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 OLDEST 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.
We however continued sowing; and more than twenty-four thousand feet of
cotton had already been added to the plantation, when our labours were
stopped by war suddenly breaking out between the colony and the Moors.
We learned that a part of their troops were in the island of Bokos,
situated but a short distance from our own. It was said that the Arab
merchants and the Marabouts, (priests of the Musulmen), who usually
travel to Senegal on affairs of commerce, had been arrested by the
French soldiers. In the fear that the Moors would come to our island and
make us prisoners, we resolved to go to the head-quarters of the
colony, and stay there till the war had ceased. My father caused all his
effects to be transported to the house of the resident at Babaguey,
after which we left our cottage and the island of Safal. Whilst Etienne
slowly rowed the canoe which contained our family, I ran my eye over the
places we were leaving, as if wishing them an eternal adieu. In
contemplating our poor cottage, which we had built with such difficulty,
I could not suppress my tears. All our plantations, thought I, will be
ravaged during our absence; our home will be burned; and we will lose in
an instant that which cost us two years of pain and fatigue. I was
diverted from these reflections by our canoe striking against the shore
of Babaguey. We landed there, and instantly set off to the residence of
M. Lerouge; but he was already at Senegal. We found his house filled
with soldiers, which the governor had sent to defend that position
against the Moors. My father then borrowed a little shallop to take us
to Senegal. Whilst the boat was preparing, we eat a morsel of
millet-bread I had had the precaution to make before we left Safal; at
last, at six in the evening, we embarked for St Louis, leaving our
negroes at Babaguey. My father promised to Etienne to go and rejoin him
to continue the work, if it was possible, as soon as we were in safety.
It was very late before we reached Senegal. As we had no lodgings, a
friend of my father, (M. Thomas) admitted us, his worthy wife loading us
with kindness. During our stay in the island of Safal, my father had
made various trips to Senegal; but as my sister and myself had not
quitted it for a long time, we found ourselves in another world. The
isolated manner in which we had lived, and the misfortunes we had
endured, contributed in no small degree to give us a savage and
embarrassed appearance. Caroline especially had become so timid, she
could not be persuaded to appear in company. It is true the nakedness to
which we were reduced, a good deal caused the repugnance we felt at
seeing company. Having no cap but our hair, no clothes but a half-worn
robe of coarse silk, without stockings and shoes, we felt very
distressed in appearing thus habited before a society among whom we had
formerly held a certain rank. The good lady Thomas seeing our
embarrassment, kindly dispensed with our appearance at table, as they
had strangers in the house. She caused supper to be brought to our
chamber, under the pretext that we were indisposed. In this manner we
escaped the curious and imprudent regards of various young people, who
had not yet been tutored by the hand of misfortune. We learned that we
were known at Senegal by different names, some calling us _The Hermits
of the Isle of Safal_, others _The Exiles in Africa_.
On the morrow, my father hired an apartment in the house of one of his
old friends (M. Valentin.) After breakfast we thanked our hosts, and
went to our new lodging. It consisted of a large chamber, the windows of
which were under ground, filled with broken panes; thus, in the first
night, we had such a quantity of musquitoes, that we thought we were yet
in the island of Safal. On the following day, my father was desirous of
returning to his plantation. We in vain represented to him the dangers
to which he exposed himself; nothing would divert him from his design.
He promised, however, to go to Safal only during the day, and to sleep
at the house of the resident at Babaguey. He told us that it was not the
war with the Moors alone which caused him to bring us to Senegal, but
also the state of suffering in which the whole family was. It is true
our strength was considerably diminished; the youngest of my brothers
had been for several days attacked with a strong fever; and we were all
slightly seized with the same disease. My father, taking our oldest
brother with him, left us for the isle of Safal, promising to come and
see us every Sunday. I went with him to the court-gate, conjuring him,
above all things, not to expose himself, and to take care of his health,
which was so precious to us. That worthy man embraced me, and bade me
fear nothing on that head, for he too well felt how necessary his life
was to his children, to expose it imprudently. "For my health," added
he, "I hope to preserve it long, unless Heaven has decided otherwise."
With these words he bid adieu, and went away; I returned to the house
and gave free vent to my tears. I know not what presentiment then seized
me, for I felt as if I had seen my father for the last time; and it was
only at the end of the third day, on receiving a letter written with his
own hand, that I could divest myself of these gloomy ideas. He told us
he was very well, and that all was quiet at Safal. On the same day I
wrote to inform him of the condition of our young brother, who was a
little better during the evening; I sent him at the same time some
loaves of new bread and three bottles of wine which a generous person
had had the goodness to give us. On the following Sunday we sat waiting
his arrival, but a frightful tempest that raged during all the day,
deprived us of that pleasure; we, however, received accounts from him
every two days, which were always satisfactory.
About the 1st of August 1819, the best friend of my father, M. Dard,
who, from the commencement of our misfortunes, had not withheld his
helping hand from us, came to announce his approaching departure for
France, and to bid us farewell. We congratulated him on the happiness of
leaving so melancholy a place as Senegal. After we had talked some time
about our unfortunate situation, and of the little hope we had of ever
getting out of it, that sensible man, feeling his tears beginning to
flow, took leave of us, promising to visit my father in passing
Babaguey. Some days after, our young sister became dangerously ill; the
fever attacked me also; and in less than forty-eight hours all our
family were seized with the same disease. Caroline, however, had still
sufficient strength to take care of us; and, but for her assistance, we
would all perhaps have become a prey to the malady which oppressed us.
That good sister durst not acquaint my father with the deplorable
condition in which we all were; but alas! she was soon obliged to tell
him the melancholy news. I know not what passed during two days after my
sister had written my father, having been seized with delirium. When the
fit had somewhat abated, and I had recovered my senses a little, I began
to recognise the people who were about me, and I saw my father weeping
near my bed. His presence revived the little strength I had still left.
I wished to speak, but my ideas were so confused that I could only
articulate a few unconnected words. I then learned, that after my father
was acquainted with our dangerous condition, he had hastened to Senegal
with my oldest brother, who also had been attacked. My father seemed to
be no better than we were; but to quiet our fears, he told us that he
attributed his indisposition to a cold he had caught from sleeping on a
bank of sand at Safal. We soon perceived that his disease was more of
the mind than of the body. I often observed him thoughtful, with a wild
and disquieted look. This good man, who had resisted with such courage
all his indignities and misfortunes, wept like a child at the sight of
his dying family.
Meanwhile the sickness increased every day in our family; my young
sister was worst. Dr Quincey saw her, and prescribed every remedy he
thought necessary to soothe her sufferings. During the middle of the
night she complained of a great pain in her abdomen, but, after taking
the medicine ordered her, she fell quiet, and we believed she was
asleep. Caroline, who watched us during the night in spite of her
weakness, took advantage of this supposed slumber to take a little
repose. A short while after, wishing to see if little Laura still slept,
she raised the quilt which covered her, and uttered a piercing shriek. I
awoke, and heard her say in a tremulous voice, Alas! Laura is dead. Our
weeping soon awoke our unhappy father. He rose, and, seeing the face of
the dead child, cried in wild despair: "It is then all over; my cruel
enemies have gained their victory! They have taken from me the bread
which I earned with the sweat of my brow to support my children; they
have sacrificed my family to their implacable hate; let them now come
and enjoy the fruit of their malice with a sight of the victim they have
immolated! let them come to satiate their fury with the scene of misery
in which they have plunged us! O cruel S----, thy barbarous heart cannot
be that of a Frenchman!" On uttering these words, he rushed out, and
seated himself under a gallery which was at the door of the house in
which we lived. He there remained a long while buried in profound
meditation, during which time we could not get him to utter one word. At
last, about six o'clock in the morning the physician came, and was
surprised on hearing of the death of Laura; then went to my father, who
seemed to be insensible to every thing around him, and inquired at him
concerning his health. "I am very well," replied he, "and I am going to
return to Safal; for I always find myself best there." The Doctor told
him his own condition, as well as that of his family, would not allow
him to leave Senegal; but he was inflexible. Seeing nothing would induce
him to remain at St Louis, I arose, weak as I was, and went to search
for a negro and a canoe to carry us to Safal. In the meanwhile a friend
of ours took the charge of burying the body of my sister; but my father
wished to inter it beside the others in his island, and determined to
take it thither along with us. Not to have, however, such a melancholy
sight before our eyes during our journey, I hired a second canoe to
carry the corpse of poor Laura; and attaching it to the one in which we
were, we took our young brothers in our arms and set off. Having
arrived opposite the house possessed by M. Thomas, my father felt
himself greatly indisposed. I profited by the circumstance, by getting
him to go to the house of his friend; hoping we would persuade him
against returning to Safal. He consented without difficulty; but we had
scarcely entered the house, when he was again taken very ill. We
instantly called a physician, who found in him the seeds of a most
malignant fever. We laid him down, and all the family wept around his
bed, whilst the canoe which carried the remains of our young sister
proceeded to Safal. M. Thomas undertook to procure us a house more
healthy than that we had quitted; but the condition of my father was
such, that he found it impossible to walk, and we had to put him in a
litter to take him to our new habitation. All the worthy people of
Senegal could not contain their indignation against governor S----,
whose inhuman conduct towards our family had been the principal cause of
all our misfortunes. They went to his house, and boldly told him it was
a shame for the Chief of the colony thus to allow an unfortunate family
entirely to perish. M. S----, either touched with these reproaches, or
at last being moved by more friendly feelings towards us, caused
provisions secretly to be sent to our house. We received them under the
persuasion they had been sent by some friend of my father; but having at
last learned they had come from the governor, my father bid me return
them to him. I did not know what to do, for a part of the provisions had
already been consumed; and, besides, the distressed condition to which
we were reduced, made me flatter myself with the thought, that the
governor wished at last to make amends for the wrongs he had done us.
But alas! his assistance was too late; the fatal moment was fast
approaching when my father had to bend under the pressure of his
intolerable sufferings.