The part of the coast beginning at Cape Blanco, and extending to the arm of the river Senegal, called the Marigot of the Maringouins; is so very arid, that it is not fit for any kind of cultivation; but from that Marigot, to the mouth of the river Gambia, a space, which may be about a hundred leagues, in length, with a depth of about two hundred, we meet with a vast country, which geographers call Senegambia.

Let us remark, however, before we go any further, that, notwithstanding the sterility of this part of the coast; it is not without importance, on account of the rich produce of the sea which bathes it. The agriculture of the waters as a celebrated naturalist has said, offers too many advantages, for the places that are adapted to it, to pass unobserved: this part of the sea, known by the name of the Gulph of Arguin, is especially remarkable for the immense quantity of fish which visit it, at different seasons, or which continually frequent these shores. This gulph, included between Capes Blanco and Merick and the coast of Zaara, on which, besides the isle of Arguin which was formerly occupied, there are several others at the mouth of what is called the river St. John, is as it were closed towards the west, in its whole extent, by the bank which bears its name. This bank, by breaking the fury of the waves, raised by the winds of the ocean, contributes by securing the usual tranquillity of its waters, to render it a retreat for the fish, at the same time that it also favors the fishermen. In fact, it is from this gulph, that all the fish are procured which are salted by the inhabitants of the Canaries, and which constitute their principal food. They come hither every spring in vessels of about 100 tons burden, manned by 30 or 40 men, and they complete their operations with such rapidity, that they seldom employ more than a month. The fishermen of Marseilles and Bayonne might attempt this fishery. In short, whatever advantage may be sought to be derived from this gulph, so rich in fish, it may be considered as the African Bank of Newfoundland, which may one day contribute to supply the settlements of Senegambia, if the Europeans should ever succeed in establishing them to any extent. Among the species of fish found in this gulph, there is one, which seems peculiar to itself; it is that, which was caught on board the Medusa, and is the principal object of the fishery in these seas. An accurate description had been made of it, and Mr. Kummer made an exact drawing of it; but all was lost with the frigate. All that can be recollected of this description, is, that these fish which are from two to three feet long, are of the genus Gade or Morue (cod); that they do not appertain to any of the species mentioned by Mr. Lacepede, and that they belong to the section in which the Merlan is placed.

Whence comes the name of Arguin? who gave it to this gulph? If we consider the heat of the sun which is experienced here, and the sparkling of the sandy downs which compose the coast, we cannot help remarking that Arguia in Phenician means what is luminous and brilliant, and that in Celtic, Guin signifies ardent. If this name comes from the Carthaginians, who may have frequented these coasts, they must have been particularly struck with their resemblance to the famous Syrtes in their own neighbourhood, which mariners took so much care to avoid.

Exercitas aut petit Syrtes Noto.

Some division of territory, or of pasturage among the hordes of the desert, was doubtless the cause, that the Europeans, who desired to carry on the gum trade, formerly chose the dangerous bay of Portendic, surrounded by a vast amphitheatre of burning sands, in preference to Cape Merick. Perhaps, the Trasas of the west, could not advance to the north of this bay, without quarrelling with the other Moors, who frequent Cape Blanco. This Cape Merick seems preferrable for commerce, either as a factory, to trade with the Moors, or as a place of protection for the traders, and the fishery. Its elevation and nature, afford a facility of defence, which is not found at Portendic; where there is not at present the smallest appearance of vegetation.

The Estuary of the river, St. John, at the back of this Cape, is now entirely destitute of verdure, and humidity, and salt is abundant in the neighbourhood.

But, as we have said above, it is when we penetrate a little into the interior, that an immense country, rich in the gifts of nature, invites European cultivation, and offers the fairest prospect of success for the colonial productions.

The soil is in general good, and all colonists from the Antilles, who have visited these countries, think that they are well adapted to the cultivation of all kinds of colonial produce. This immense country is watered by the Senegal and the Gambia, which bound it to the north and south. The river Faleme crosses it in the eastern part, as well as many other less considerable rivers, which, flowing in different directions, water principally that part covered with mountains which is called the high country, or the country of Galam. All these little rivers fall at length into the two large ones, of which we have spoken above.

These countries are very thickly peopled, and are in general mild and hospitable. Their villages are so numerous, that it is almost impossible to go two leagues without meeting with some, that are very extensive and very populous. Nevertheless, we have no more than two settlements; those of St. Louis and Goree; the others, which were seven or eight in number, have been abandoned; either, because the French and the English, who have occupied them in turn, have wished to concentrate the trade in the two settlements which still exist; or because the natives no longer found the same advantage in bringing their goods and slaves. It is, however, true, (as we have been assured) that in consequence of the abolition of those factories, the considerable commerce which France carried on upon this coast before the revolution, has been reduced to one fourth of its former extent.[A14]

The town of St. Louis, the seat of the general government, is situated in longitude 18 deg. 48' 15" and in latitude 16 deg. 4' 10". It is built on a little island formed by the river Senegal, and is only two leagues distant from the new bar formed by the inundation of 1812. Its situation in a military point of view, is pretty advantageous, and if art added something to nature, there is no doubt, but this town might be rendered almost impregnable; but in its present state, it can hardly be considered as any thing more than an open town, which four hundred resolute men, well commanded, might easily carry. At the mouth of the river is a bar, which is its strongest bulwark. It may even be said, that it would be impossible to pass it, if it were well guarded; but the coast of the point of Barbary, which separates the river from the sea is accessible; it would be even possible, without meeting with many obstacles, and with the help of flat bottomed boats, to land troops and artillery upon it. When this landing is once made, the place may be attacked on the side of the north, which is entirely destitute of fortifications. There is no doubt, but that, if it were attacked in this manner, it would be forced to surrender at the first summons. However, many have hitherto considered it as impregnable, believing that it was impossible to make a landing on the coast of Barbary. but as we are convinced of the contrary, because the English already executed this manoeuvre at the last capture of this place, we venture to call the attention of the government to the situation of St. Louis, which would certainly become impregnable if some new works were erected on different points.

This town has, in other respects, nothing very interesting in it, only the streets are strait, and pretty broad, the houses tolerably well built and airy. The soil is a burning sand, which produces but few vegetables: there are only eight or ten little gardens, containing from two to four ares of ground at the most, all cultivated, and in which, within these few years orange and lemon trees have been planted, so that there is reason to suppose, that, with some care, these trees would thrive perfectly well. Mr. Correard saw a fig-tree and an European vine, which are magnificent, and bear a large quantity of fruit. Since the colony has been restored to the French several kinds of fruit-trees have been planted, which thrive in an extraordinary manner. Five or six palatuviers, and a dozen palm trees are dispersed about the town.

The parade is tolerably handsome; it is situated opposite the castle, and what is called the fort and the barracks. On the west it is covered by a battery of ten or twelve twenty-four pounders, and two mortars; this is the principal strength of the island. On the east is the port, where vessels lie in great safety. The population of the town amounts to 10,000 souls, as the Mayor told Mr. Correard. The inhabitants of the island are both Catholics and Mahometans; but the latter are the most numerous, notwithstanding this, all the inhabitants live in peace and the most perfect harmony. There are no dissentions about religious opinions: every one prays to God in his own manner; but it is observed, that the men who have abjured Mahometanism, still retain the custom of having several wives. We think that it would not be very difficult to abolish it among the blacks, who are struck with the pomp of our religious ceremonies: they would be much more inclined to the Catholic religion, if it tolerated polygamy, a habit which will inevitably render all the efforts of the Missionaries abortive, as long as they commence their instruction by requiring its abolition.

The isle of St. Louis, by its important position, may command the whole river, being placed at the head of an Archipelago of pretty considerable islands: its extent is however small. Its length is 2,500 metres from north to south; and its breadth from east to west is, at the north part, 370 metres; in the middle of its length 28 metres; and at the south only 170 metres. The elevation of its soil is not more than 50 centimetres above the level of the river: in the middle it is however a little higher, which facilitates the running of the waters. The river dividing to form the isle of St. Louis has two arms, which reunite below the island: the principal situated on the east is about 1000 metres in breadth, and that on the west about 600. The currents are very rapid, and carry with them quantities of sand, which the sea throws back towards the coast; this it is that forms a bar at the mouth of the river; but the currents have opened themselves a passage, which is called the pass of the bar. This pass is about 200 metres broad and five or six metres in depth. Very often these dimensions are less; but at all times only such vessels can pass over it as draw four metres water at the utmost: the overplus is very necessary for the pitching of the vessel, which is always very considerable upon this bar. The waves which cover it are very large and short; when the weather is bad, they break furiously, and intimidate the most intrepid mariners.

The western arm of the river is separated from the sea by a point called the Point of Barbary. It is inconceivable how this slip of land, which is not above 250 metres in its greatest breadth, and is formed only of sand, should be able to resist the efforts of the river, which always tends to destroy it; and those of the sea, which breaks upon it sometimes with such fury, that it covers it entirely, and even crossing the arm of the river, comes and breaks on the shore of the island of St. Louis. Almost opposite the chateau and on the Point of Barbary, is a little battery of six guns at the most, which is called the Fort of Guetander; it is on the summit of a hill of sand which has been formed by the wind, and increases daily; it is even already pretty high, and is surrounded by a great number of huts of the blacks, which form a pretty extensive village: these buts tend to hold the sand together, and to prevent its sinking. The inhabitants of this village are very superstitious, as the following anecdote will prove.

In the course of the month of September, Messrs. Kummer and Correard crossed the arm of the river, to visit the coast of Barbary and the village of Guetander; when they landed on the point, they proceeded towards the north, and having gone three or four hundred paces along the shore, they found a turtle, the diameter of which was a metre at the least; it was turned upon its back and covered with a prodigious quantity of crabs, (toulouroux)[61] which are found along the sea-coast. Mr. Correard stopped a moment, and remarked that, when he had wounded one of these animals with his cane, the others devoured it instantly. While he was looking at these crabs feeding on the turtle, Mr. Kummer went on towards the south, and visited the burying-places of the blacks. Mr. Correard joined him, and they saw that the natives erect over the tombs of their fathers, their relations and friends, little sepulchres, some made of straw, some of slight pieces of wood, and even of bones. All these frail monuments are consecrated much more by gratitude than by vanity. The blacks prohibit all approach to them in the strictest manner. Mr. Kummer, whom his companion had left to return to the shore, was examining very tranquilly these rustic tombs, when suddenly one of the Africans armed with a sabre, advanced towards him, crouching and endeavouring to surprise him; Mr. Kummer had no doubt but this man had a design upon his life, and retired towards Mr. Correard, whom he found again observing the crabs and the turtle. On relating to him what had just passed, as they were unarmed, they resolved immediately to pass the river, by throwing themselves into a boat; they had soon reason to congratulate themselves on having done so, for they perceived several men who had collected at the cries of the black, and, if they had not taken flight, it is probable that their innocent curiosity would have cost them their lives.

The left bank of the river, which is called Grande Terre, is covered with perpetual verdure, the soil is fertile, and wants only hands to cultivate it.

Opposite, and to the east of St. Louis, is the isle of Sor, which is four or five leagues in circumference; it is of a long and almost triangular form: there are two extensive plains in it, where habitations might be erected. They are covered with grass two metres in height, a certain proof of the advantages that might be derived from the cultivation of this island. Cotton and indigo grow there naturally, the ground is in some parts low and damp, which gives reason to suppose that the sugar-cane would succeed. It might be secured against the inundations which take place in the rainy season, by erecting little causeways a metre in height, at the most. There are in this island, principally on the east side, mangoes, palatuviers, a great quantity of gum trees, or mimosas, and magnificent Baobabs[62].

Let us stop for a moment before this colossus, which, by the enormous diameter to which it attains, has acquired the title of the Elephant of the vegetable kingdom. The Baobab often serves the negroes for a dwelling, the construction of which costs no further trouble than cutting an opening in the side to serve as a door, and taking out the very soft pith which fills the inside of the trunk. The tree, far from being injured by this operation, seems even to derive more vigour from the fire which is lighted in it for the purpose of drying the sap, by carbonising it. In this state it almost always happens, that the bark, instead of forming a ridge at the edge of the wound, as happens with some trees in Europe, continues to grow, and at length covers the whole inside of the tree, generally without any wrinkles, and thus presents the astonishing spectacle of an immense tree recompleated in its organisation, but having the form of an enormous hollow cylinder, or rather of a vast arborescent wall bent into a circular form, and having its sides sufficiently wide asunder to let you enter into the space which it encloses. If casting our eyes on the immense dome of verdure which forms the summit of this rural palace, we see a swarm of birds adorned with the richest colours, sporting in its foliage, such as rollers with a sky-blue plumage, senegallis, of a crimson colour, soui-mangas shining with gold and azure; if, advancing under the vault we find flowers of dazzling whiteness hanging on every side, and if, in the center of this retreat, an old man and his family, a young mother and her children meet the eye, what a crowd of delicious ideas is aroused in this moment? Who would not be astonished at the generous fore-sight of nature? and where is the man who would not be transported with indignation if, while he was contemplating this charming scene, he beheld a party of ferocious Moors violate this peaceful asylum, and carry off some of the members of a family, to deliver them up to slavery? It would require the pencil of the author of the Indian Cottage, to do justice to such a picture.

This is not the only service which the blacks, who inhabit Senegambia, derive from the Adansonia or Baobab. They convert its leaves, when dried, into a powder which they call Lalo, and use it as seasoning to almost all their food. They employ the roots as a purgative; they drink the warm infusion of its gummy bark, as a remedy for disorders in the breast; they lessen the inflamation of the cutaneous eruptions, to which they are subject by applying to the diseased parts cataplasms made of the parenchyma of the trunk: they make an astringent beverage of the pulp of its fruit; they regale themselves with its almonds, they smoke the calyx of its flowers instead of tobacco; and often by dividing into two parts the globulous capsules, and leaving the long woody stalk fixed to one of the halves, which become dry and hard, they make a large spoon or ladle.

It has been found that the substance, called very improperly, terra sigillata of lemnos, is nothing more than the powder made of the pulp of the fruit of the Baobab. The Mandingians and the Moors carry this fruit as an article of commerce into various parts of Africa, particularly Egypt; hence, it finds its way to the Levant. There it is that this pulp is reduced to powder, and reaches us by the way of trade. Its nature was long mistaken: Prosper Alpinus was the first who discovered that it was a vegetable substance.

After the Isle of Sor, towards the South is that of Babague, separated from the former and that of Safal, by two small arms of the river; this island, in an agricultural point of view, already affords a happy result to the colonists, who have renounced the inhuman traffic in slaves, to become peaceable planters. Many have already made plantations of cotton, which they call lougans. Mr. Artique, a merchant, has hitherto been the most successful. His little plantation brought him in 2400 fr. in 1814, which has excited in many inhabitants of St. Louis a desire to cultivate pieces of land there. After his example, we now see every where beginnings of plantations, which already promise valuable crops to those who have undertaken the cultivation of these colonial productions. The soil of Babague is more elevated than that of the surrounding islands. At its southern extremity, which is precisely opposite the new bar of the river, there is a very great number of huts of the blacks, a military post with an observatory, and two or three country houses.

The Isle of Safal, belonging to Mr. Picard, offers the same advantages. Its soil is fertile as that of the islands of which we have just spoken. No drinkable water is found in any of them; but it would be easy to procure excellent water by digging wells about two metres in depth.

Cotton and indigo grow every where spontaneously; what then is wanting, to these countries, to obtain in them what the other colonies produce? Nothing but some men, capable of directing the natives in their labours, and of procuring them the agricultural implements, and the plants of which they stand in need. When these men are found, we shall soon see numerous habitations arise on the banks of this river, which will rival those in the Antilles. The blacks love the French nation more than any other, and it would be easy to direct their minds to agriculture. A little adventure, which happened to Mr. Correard, will shew to what a degree they love the French.

In the course of the month of September, his fever having left him for some days, he was invited by Mr. Francois Valentin, to join a hunting party in the environs of the village of Gandiolle, situated six leagues to the South, South East of St. Louis. Mr. Dupin, supercargo of a vessel from Bordeaux, who was then at Senegal, and Mr. Yonne brother of Mr. Valentin, were of the party. Their intention was to prolong the pleasures of the chace, for several days; in consequence, they borrowed a tent of the worthy Major Peddy, and fixed themselves on the banks of the gulph which the Senegal forms, since its ancient mouth is entirely stopped up, and a new one formed, three or four leagues higher up than the former. There they were only a short league from the village of Gandiolle. Mr. Correard directed his course, or rather his reconnaissances, a little into the interior, for he had conceived the idea of taking a plan of the coast, and of the islands formed by the Senegal. He was soon near to Gandiolle, and stopped some moments at the sight of an enormous Baobob tree, the whiteness of which much surprised him: he perceived it was covered with a cloud of the birds called aigrettes.[63] He advanced across the village to the foot of this tree, and fired two shot successively, supposing he should kill at least twenty of these birds. Curiosity induced him to measure the prodigious tree, on which they were perched, and he found that its circumference was 28 metres. While he was examining this monstrous production of the vegetable kingdom, the report of his piece had caused a great many blacks to come out of their huts, who advanced towards Mr. Correard, doubtless, with the hope of obtaining from him some powder, ball, or tobacco. While he was loading his piece, he fixed his eyes upon an old man, whose respectable look announced a good disposition; his beard and hair were white, and his stature colossal; he called himself Sambadurand. When he saw Mr. Correard looking at him attentively, he advanced towards him, and asked him if he was an Englishman? No, replied he, I am a Frenchman.—How, my friend, you are a Frenchman! that gives me pleasure.—Yes, good old man, I am.—Then the black tried to put on a certain air of dignity to pronounce the word Frenchman, and said, "Your nation is the most powerful in Europe, by its courage and the superiority of its genius, is it not?"—Yes.—It is true that you Frenchmen are not like the white men of other nations of Europe whom I have seen; that does not surprise me; and then, you are all fire, and as good tempered as we blacks. I think you resemble Durand in vivacity and stature; you must be as good as he was; are you his relation?—No, good old man, I am not his relation; but I have often heard speak of him.—Ah? you do not know him as I do: it is now thirty years since he came into this country with his friend Rubault, who was going to Galam. This Frenchman, whose language I learned at St. Louis, loaded us all with presents; I still keep a little dagger which he gave me, and I assure you that my son will keep it as long as I have done. We always remember those white men who have done us good, particularly the French whom we love very much.—"Well," answered Mr. Correard, "I am sorry I have nothing which can suit you, and be kept for a long time, or I would offer it you with pleasure, and you would join the remembrance of me with that of the philanthropic Durand, who had conceived plans which, if they had been executed, would, perhaps, have been the glory of my country, and the happiness of yours; but here, take my powder and ball, if that can do you pleasure."—Ah! good Frenchman, I would willingly take them, for I know that you have as much as you please in your own country;[64] but at this moment it would deprive you of the pleasure of the chace.—No, take it all.—Take my advice Toubabe: let us divide it, that will be better. In fact, they divided. The black invited Mr. Correard to enter his hut to refresh himself. "Come Toubabe," said he, "come, my women shall give you some milk and millet flour, and you shall smoke a pipe with me."

Mr. Correard refused, in order to continue his sport, which was interrupted by the cries of the blacks, who pursued a young lion, which came from the village of Mouit, and attempted to enter that of Gandiolle; this animal had done no harm, but the natives pursued him in the hopes of killing him, and to sell his skin. Dinnertime being come, all the white hunters returned to their tent. A few moments after, they saw a young negro, twelve years of age at the most, whose mild and pleasant countenance was far from indicating the courage and the strength which he had just displayed; he held in his hands an enormous lizard quite alive, at least a metre and eighty centimetres in length. These gentlemen were astonished to see this child holding such a terrible animal, which opened a frightful pair of jaws. Mr. Correard begged Mr. Valentin to ask him how he had been able to take, and pinion it in this manner. The child answered as follows in the Yoloffe language: "I saw this lizard come out of a hedge, I immediately seized it by the tail and hind feet: I raised it from the ground, and with my left hand took it by the neck; and holding it very fast, and at a distance from my body, I carried it in this manner to the village of Gandiolle, where I met one of my companions, who tied his legs, and persuaded me to come and present it to the Toubabes who are in the tent; he told me also that they were Frenchmen, and as we love them much, I have come to see them, and offer them this lizard." After these details, Mr. Correard presented the but end of his piece to the animal, which made a deep indenture with its teeth; having then presented it the end of the barrel, it immediately seized it furiously, and broke all its teeth, which made it bleed very much; nevertheless, it made no effort to disengage itself from its bonds.[65]

The environs of Gandiolle appear to be extremely fertile; we find there grass two metres in height, fields of maize and millet. This country is full of large pieces of water, which the natives call marigots; the major part of which cover an immense space; but it would be easy to drain them by means of some little canals, particularly in the part near the coast. These lands would be very productive, and proper for the culture of the sugar cane: the soil is mud mixed with very fine sand.[A15]

After having examined the environs of St. Louis, let us cast a glance upon the rock called the Island of Goree, and its environs. This isle is nothing of itself; but its position renders it of the greatest importance: it is situated in longitude 19 deg. 5', and in latitude 14 deg. 40' 10", half a league from the main land, and thirty-six leagues from the mouth of the Senegal. The Cape de Verd Islands, are eighty leagues to the West. It is this position that renders it mistress of all the commerce of these countries. Its port is excellent; and so great a number of ships and boats are seen there that its road is continually covered; there is so much activity that some persons have said the Island of Goree was, perhaps, the point in the world, where there was most bustle and population. The number of its inhabitants is estimated at 5000 souls, which is by no means in proportion with its confined surface, which is not above 910 metres in length, and 245 in breadth. Its circumference is not above 2000 metres. It is only a very high rock, the access to the coasts, of which is very difficult. The numerous rocks, which surround it on all sides, have made some navigators give it the name of Little Gibraltar; and if nature were seconded by art, there is no doubt but like that, it would become impregnable. It was first taken possession of by Admiral d'Estrees, about the end of the year 1677. This isle lies in the direction of S.S.E and N.N.W. and is only about 2600 metres distant from Cape Verd. It is defended by a fort, and by some small batteries in very bad condition; but it is, nevertheless, impregnable by its position. In fact, it is not accessible, except on the E.N.E. where there is a pretty large and deep bay, capable of receiving the largest ships. Its road is immense; vessels are safe in it, and tolerably well sheltered. At two leagues from Goree is the bay of Ben, which affords the greatest facilities for the careening of vessels, and for the repairs of which they may stand in need.

The Island of Goree is cool during the evening, the night and the morning; but during the day, there prevails in the island an unsupportable heat, produced by the reflection of the sun's rays, which fall perpendicularly on the Basalt rocks which surround it. If we add to this the stagnation of the air, the circulation of which is interrupted by the houses, being very closely built, a considerable population, which continually fills the streets, and is beyond all proportion with the extent of the town, it will be readily conceived that all these reasons, powerfully contribute to concentrate here such insupportable heat, that one can scarcely breathe at noon day. The blacks too, who certainly know what hot countries are, find the heat excessive, and prefer living at St. Louis.

The Island of Goree may become of the greatest importance if the government should ever think proper to establish a powerful colony, from Cape Verd to the river Gambia; then this isle would be the bulwark of the settlements on the coast of Africa. But it will be objected that Goree is very small, and that great establishments can never be formed there; we think, only, that it is proper to be the central point, till a greater colony shall be established on Cape Verd, which nature seems to have intended for it, and the advantages of which, in a military and maritime point of view, are of the highest importance. Men of sound judgment who have examined it, have considered it calculated to become one day a second Cape of Good Hope. It is certain that, with time and by means of some works, this Cape would become highly interesting, and would serve as a depot, to accustom to the climate, such Europeans, as might wish to settle either in the projected colonies, or on those which might be founded, between this Cape and the Gambia, or on the islands of Todde, Reffo, Morphil, Bilbas, and even in the kingdom of Galam.

The position and figure of Cape Verd are such, that it would be easy to form there an excellent port at a small expense; perhaps it would not be impossible to make some use of the Lake or Marigot of Ben, which is but a short distance from the sea. Its road, which is the same as that of Goree, might almost serve as a port, even in its present state. The following is an extract from a Letter, written to Mr. Correard by a Physician, who has carefully examined Cape Verd.

"This Cape is very different from what we thought. Its surface is not above six or eight square leagues; its population is very numerous, and by no means in proportion with the part of this peninsula, proper for cultivation, which is not above one-third of its surface. Another third serves for pasture for the flocks of the blacks; and the other part is too much vulcanised, too full of rocks, to afford any hope of advantage in an agricultural view. But its military position is admirable; all seems to concur to render it impregnable, and it would even be easy to insulate it entirely from the Continent, and to form upon it several ports, which nature seems to have already prepared."

This letter likewise speaks of the advantages offered by the environs of Rufisque, which are so well known, that we may dispense with speaking of them here. We shall only mention as among the principal points to be occupied, with the mornes of Cape Rouge, Portudal, Joal, and Cahone, this last on the river Salum near the Gambia; they are large villages, the environs of which are covered with magnificent forests, and the soil of which is perhaps the most fertile of any in Africa. For more ample accounts of these countries, we refer to the excellent works of Messrs. Durand and Geoffroy de Villeneuve, who have examined them like enlightened observers, and perfectly well described them in their travels, only that they have too much exaggerated the agricultural advantages of Cape Verd.

We shall not have the presumption to lay down plans, to propose systems, to enforce such or such means for putting them in execution. We shall merely terminate our task by some general considerations calculated to confirm what numerous and able observers have already thought, of the importance of the establishments in Africa, and of the necessity of adopting some general plan of colonisation for these countries.

However pride, prejudice and personal interest, may deceive themselves respecting the re-establishment of our Western Colonies, nobody will be able longer to dissemble the inutility of attempts to persevere in a false route. Calculation will at length triumph over blind obstinacy and false reasonings. There is already a certain number of incontestable data, the consequences of which must be one day admitted. And first, though some persons who fancy that, like them the whole world have been asleep for these twenty-five or thirty years, still dream of the submission of St. Domingo, reasonably persons now acknowledge, that even were the final success of such an enterprise possible, its real result would be, to have expended, in order to conquer a desert, and ruins drenched in blood, ten times more men and money than would be sufficient to colonise Africa. It is well known, also, that the soil of Martinique is exhausted, and that its productions will diminish more and more; that the small extent of Guadaloupe confines its culture to a very narrow circle, and does not permit it to offer a mass of produce sufficient to add much to the force of the impulse, which a country like France, must give to all parts of its agricultural and commercial industry. It is not to be doubted, but that nature has given to French Guiyana the elements of great prosperity; but this establishment requires to be entirely created; every thing has hitherto concurred to prolong its infancy. There are not sufficient hands: and how will you convey thither the requisite number of cultivators, when you have proclaimed the abolition of the slave trade.

The Abolition of the Slave Trade: this is the principle, pregnant with consequences, which should induce every enlightened government speedily to change its whole colonial system. It would be in vain to attempt to prolong this odious trade by smuggling, and thus still to draw from it some precarious resources. This sad advantage would but keep open the wound which has struck the western colonies, without being able to effect their recovery, as is desired by those who seek to found their prosperity on the regular farming out of one of the races of mankind. The slave trade is abolished not only by religion, by treaties, by the consent of some powers, by the calculations and interest of some others, which will not permit it to be re-established; but it is abolished also by the light of the age, by the wish of all civilised nations; by opinion, that sovereign of the world, which triumphs over every obstacle, and subdues all that resist her laws. Without the slave trade, you cannot transport to the West Indies those throngs of men whose sweat and blood are the manure of your lands: on the other hand, you see the Genius of Independence hover over the New World, which will soon force you to seek friends and allies where you have hitherto reckoned only slaves. Why then do you hesitate to prepare a new order of things, to anticipate events, which time, whose march you cannot arrest, brings every day nearer and nearer? Reason, your own interest, the force of circumstances, the advantages of nature, the richness of the soil, every thing tells you that it is to Africa, that you must carry culture and civilization.

Without entering into the question, whether the Government should reserve to itself, exclusively, the right of founding colonies on that continent, or whether it ought to encourage colonial companies, and depend on the efforts of private interest suitably directed, let us be permitted to offer some views, on the prudent and temperate course which ought to be laid down, to arrive at a satisfactory result, not only in respect to the civilization of the blacks, but even relatively to the commercial advantages which the colonist must naturally have in view.

Though the abolition of the slave trade has been proclaimed, yet the present slaves must be led to liberty only in a progressive manner. The whites who are possessed of negroes, should not be allowed to prolong their possession and their dominion over them, beyond the space of ten years, and without being permitted to resell them during that period. During these ten years, the negroes should be prepared for their new condition as well by instruction as by the successive amelioration of their situation; it would be necessary gradually to relax the chain of slavery; and by affording them means to lay up a part of the produce of their labour, inspire them with the desire, and the necessity of possessing something of their own.

After these ten years, which may be called a Noviciate, it is to be presumed, that if lands were granted to them upon advantageous conditions, fixed before hand, if they were furnished in case of need, with the agricultural instruments, the use of which they would have learned, they would become excellent cultivators: it is needless to remark that the man who cultivates the soil, and whose labour the soil rewards, by its produce, becomes strongly attached to the land, which supplies both his wants and his enjoyments, and is soon led by family affections to the love of social order, and to the sentiments which constitute a good citizen.

The blacks have been too long encouraged to sell their fellow-creatures, for us to depend upon their soon forgetting this deplorable traffic. But doubtless we ought to begin by renouncing the perfidious means of inflaming their cupidity and their passions. The articles which they are the most desirous to obtain from us, ought to be the price of the produce of the soil, and no longer the means of exchange, and the aliment of this dreadful traffic in human flesh. It would, however, be proper that, as long as slaves should continue to arrive from the interior, the whites might buy them. This permission should be granted for a time, and in a certain extent of country. Their slavery should also be limited to ten years, as we have said above, and their moral and physical improvement, should be directed in such a manner as to attach them to the soil by exciting in them the love of property.

The laws and institutions which govern the mother country, would incontrovertibly be applicable to the new establishments. It would certainly be presumable, that on account of particular considerations of moral and political order, it would be proper to allow local regulations, in forming which, all proprietors enjoying the rights of citizenship, ought to participate, without any distinction of colour. It would especially be highly important, that the regulations for the government of the slaves, should be founded on mildness and humanity, that prudent and enlightened persons should superintend the execution of them, and have the necessary authority to prevent abuses, and to secure to the slave the protection of the law.

In order to obtain these results, it is evident that it would be no less essential to preserve the colonies from the scourge of arbitrary authority, from the excesses of power, which always accompany abuses, injustice, and corruption. When favor and caprice are the only laws that are attended to; when intrigue supplies the place of merit; when cupidity succeeds to honorable industry; when vice and meanness are titles to distinctions, and the true means of making a fortune; when honours are no longer synonimous with honour; then society presents only disorder and anarchy, then people renounce obscure virtue, and laborious acquisition to follow the easy ways of corruption; then enlightened men, for whom public esteem is a sterile recommendation, the true servants of the king, the faithful friends of their country, are forced to disappear, to withdraw from employments, and the interest of the public, as well as that of humanity, is miserably sacrificed to the basest calculations, to the most guilty passions.

He who desires the end, desires the means of attaining it. The end at present, should be to prepare every thing beforehand, and rather sooner than later, in order to repair in Africa the past losses and disasters, which irremediable events have caused in the Western Colonies, and to substitute for their riches their prosperity, the progressive decline of which is henceforward inevitable, new elements of wealth and prosperity: the means will be to carry into these countries, so long desolated by our relentless avarice, knowledge, cultivation, and industry. By these means we shall see in that vast continent numerous colonies arise, which will restore to the mother country all the splendour, all the advantages of her ancient commerce, and repay her with interest for the sacrifices she may have made in the new world. But to effect this, let there be no more secret enterprises; no more connivance at fraudulent traffic, no more unhappy negroes snatched away from their families; no more tears shed on that sad African soil, so long the witness of so many afflictions; no more human victims, dragged to the altars of the shameful, and insatiable divinities, which have already devoured such numbers: consequently, let there be no more grounds for hearing in the English Parliament, voices boldly impeaching our good faith, attacking the national honour, and positively asserting that France maintains in her African possessions, the system of the slave trade in the same manner as she did before she consented to its abolition.

Africa offers to our speculators, to the enterprises of our industry, a virgin soil, and an inexhaustible population peculiarly fitted to render it productive. It must be our business to form them according to our views, by associating them in these by a common interest. In conquering them by benefits, instead of subjugating them by crimes, or degrading them by corruption, let us lead them to social order and to happiness, by our moral superiority, instead of dragging them under scourges and chains to misery and death, we shall then have accomplished a useful and a glorious enterprise; we shall have raised our commercial prosperity on the greatest interest of those who have been the voluntary instruments of it, and above all, we shall have expiated, by an immense benefit, this immense crime of the outrages, with which we so long afflicted humanity.



INTRODUCTION

[Transcriber's Note: These notes are put in the text with the numbering Axx or Bxx]

The following Notes were communicated to the Authors, when the second edition was already so far advanced, as to render it impracticable to incorporate them with the body of the work, and they are therefore placed at the end. Some of them are extracted from the Journal of Mr. Bredif, who belonged to the expedition, and were communicated by his uncle, Mr. Landry; the others are by an officer of merit, whose modesty prevents the publication of his name.

The Translator has thought it would be more convenient to place these notes in one series, referring to the pages to which they belong. Those of Mr. Bredif, are signed (B) the others (A).



NOTES.

[A1] I.—On the Route to Africa.

In going from Europe to the western coasts of Africa, situated to the north of the line, it is better still, to pass between the Azores and Madeira, and not to come within sight of the coast, till you have nearly reached the latitude of the point where you desire to land. Nothing but the necessity of procuring refreshments can authorise vessels, bound to the Cape of Good Hope, or to the south of America, to touch at the Canaries, or at the Cape Verd Islands. Notwithstanding the depth of the channels between the first of these islands, these seas, which are subject both to calms and hurricanes are not without danger. By keeping at a distance, there is also the advantage of avoiding the current of Gibraltar, and of not running the risk of meeting with the north west winds, which generally prevail along the desert, (and hitherto insufficiently known.) Coasts of Zaara, along which the Medusa sailed to no purpose, and which winds also tend to impel vessels upon the dangerous bank of Arguin. (A)

[A2] II.—On the Manoeuvres before Funchal.

The usual indecision, which the commander of the frigate displayed in all his resolutions, joined to a little accident, made him change the intention which he had expressed of presenting himself before Funchal. From a singularity which nothing justified, he appeared to have more confidence in one of the passengers, who had indeed, frequented these seas, than in any of his officers, in respect to the management of the vessel. As they approached Madeira, the vessel was worked almost entirely according to the advice of this passenger; but suddenly the breeze, which is always strong in the neighbourhood of these mountainous countries, fell when they got too near it, the sails flagged, the current seemed rapid; but after some hesitation in the manoeuvring of the vessel, which the officers soon put into proper order, they recovered the wind, and it was resolved to steer for Teneriffe. (A)

[A3] III.—On the Islands of Madeira and Teneriffe.

Madeira and Teneriffe seen on the side where their capital cities lie, have a very different appearance. The first is smiling with cultivation from its shores, almost to the summit of the mountains. Every where the eye discovers only little habitations surrounded by vineyards and orchards of the most delightful verdure: these modest dwellings surrounded by all the luxuriance of vegetation, placed under an azure sky, which is seldom obscured by clouds, seem to be the abode of happiness, and the navigator, long wearied by the monotonous prospect of the sea, cheerfully hailed this delightful prospect. Teneriffe, on the contrary, shews itself with every mark of the cause by which it was formed. The whole south east side is composed of black sterile rocks, which are piled together in an extraordinary confusion; even to the environs of the town of Saint Croix, scarcely any thing is seen, on the greater part of these dry and burnt lands, but low plants, the higher of which are probably Euphorbia, or thorny Cereus; and those which cover the ground, the hairy lichen, Crocella tinctoria, which is employed in dying, and which this island furnishes in abundance. Seen from the sea, the town, which is in the form of an amphitheatre, appears to be situated in the recess, formed by two distinct branches of mountains, of which the one towards the south, forms the Peak properly so called; it is particularly remarkable at a distance for its slender towers, and for the steeples of its churches, the construction of which, calls to mind the arabic architecture. (A)

[A4] IV.—On the Mouth of the River St. John.

There is probably an error in this account: the river St. John, is much more to the south, and on the north side of Cape Meric. The inlet, which was perceived during the ceremony of the tropic, which was a little tardy, is the gulf of St. Cyprian, into which the currents appear to set. Early in the morning, and to the north of this gulph, they passed a little island, very near the coast, and the black colour of which, owing doubtless to the marine plants that cover it, made a striking contrast with the whiteness of the sandy downs of the great desert, the abode of the Moors, and of wild beasts.—Tellus leonum arida nutrix. (A)

[A5] V.—On the reconnaissance of Cape Blanco.

Mr. de Chaumareys gave notice in the course of this day, that he had a mind to anchor at a cable's length from Cape Blanco. He talked of it till the evening, but on going to bed he thought no more about it; however, he continually repeated that the minister had ordered him to make that Cape; and therefore, when somebody said the next morning, that this Cape was supposed to have been seen at eight o'clock the preceding evening, it was from that time forbidden to doubt of it; and either from deference or persuasion it was agreed, but not without laughing, that the Cape had been seen at the hour mentioned. It was from the course of the vessel at this moment that the route was calculated till an observation was made at noon. (A)

[A6] VI.—On the Refusal to answer the Signals of the Echo.

It would probably have been of no use to inform Mr. de Chaumarey's of the signals of the Echo. The commander of the Medusa, the chief of the division, had declared already in the roads of the island of Aix, his intention to abandon his vessels, and to proceed alone in all haste to the Senegal. Though he spoke of strictly following the pretended instructions of the minister respecting the route to be followed, it was, however, violating the principle one, since it is useless to form a division if it is not to go together. The corvette, commanded by Mr. Venancourt succeeded, it is true, several times in joining the commander; but soon, by the superior sailing of the Medusa, they lost sight of him again, and every time they rejoiced at it. This resolution, not to sail in company, was the chief cause of the loss of the principal vessel. The Echo having determined, as was proper, to follow its commander, alone passed to the north west of the bank. The two other vessels which had remained long behind and were much more at liberty, passed more than thirty leagues to the west of it, and thus proved that it was the safest and shortest rout. (A)

[A7] VII.—On the Stranding of the Medusa.

From ten o'clock in the morning the colour of the water visibly changed, and the head pilot, calculating after his sea-torch before mentioned, declared, at half past eleven, that they were at the edge of the bank, and this was probable. From that moment the sailors were entirely employed in drawing up the lines thrown out alongside of the vessel, and the astonishing quantity of fish, all of the cod species, which were drawn on board, added to the weeds that floated on every side, were more than sufficient to make it believed that they were sailing upon a shoal. We shall speak below of the species of this fish; but as for the weeds, which were perceived on every side, besides that they gave reason to suppose that we were approaching the land, their appearance in this gulph, also gives ground to presume, that the currents of these seas, at this season, set north, since the plants, with exception of some Zosteres, were nothing but long stalks of grasses; most of them still furnished with their roots, and many even with their ears, belonging to the tall grasses of the banks of the Senegal, and the Gambia, which these rivers bring away at the time of the inundations. All those which could be observed were Panios or millets. (A)

[B1] VIII.—Moment of the Stranding of the Frigate.

The officers wanted to tack about, as the water became shallower every moment: but Mr. Richefort,(who enjoyed the confidence of Mr. de Chaumarey's,) declaring that there was no reason to be alarmed, the captain ordered more sail to be spread. Soon we had only fifteen fathoms, then nine, then six. By promptitude the danger might still have been avoided. They hesitated: two minutes afterwards a shock informed us that we had struck; the officers, at first astonished, gave their orders with a voice that shewed their agitation: the captain was wholly deprived of his; terror was painted on the countenances of all those who were capable of appreciating the danger: I thought it imminent, and expected to see the frigate bilge. I confess that I was not satisfied with myself, at this first moment, I could not help trembling, but afterwards, my courage did not any more forsake me. (B)

[B2] IX.—Confusion on Board the Frigate.

The frigate having stranded, the same thing happened, which usually does happen in critical circumstances, no decisive measures were taken: to increase our misfortunes the obedience of the crew to the officers was diminished for want of confidence. There was no concert. A great deal of time was spent, and the second day was lost without having done any thing.

On the third, preparations were made to quit the frigate, and the efforts made the day before to get her afloat, were renewed, but only half measures were taken. The other preparations to insure our safety were not carried on with any activity. Every thing went wrong. A list of the people was made, and they were distributed between the boats and the raft, in order that they might hold themselves ready to embark when it should be time. I was set down for the long boat. Our mode of living, during all this time, was extremely singular. We all worked either at the pump or at the capstern. There was no fixed time for meals, we eat just as we could snatch an opportunity. The greatest confusion prevailed, the sailors already attempted to plunder the trunks. (B)

[B3] X.—The Frigate lost.

On the fourth the weather being fine, and the wind favourable to the motion which we wished to give to the vessel, we succeeded in it. The most ardent hope was excited among all the crew, we even supped very cheerfully; we flattered ourselves that we should free the vessel and sail the next day. A beautiful evening encouraged our hopes, we slept upon deck by moonlight; but at midnight the sky was overclouded, the wind rose, the sea swelled, the frigate began to be shaken. These shocks were much more dangerous than those in the night of the third. At three o'clock in the morning the master-caulker came to tell the captain that the vessel had sprung a leak and was filling; we immediately flew to the pumps, but in vain, the hull was split, all endeavours to save the frigate were given up, and nothing thought of but how to save the people. (B)

[B4] XI.—Embarkment of the Crew.

On the 5th, about seven o'clock in the morning, all the soldiers were first embarked on board the raft, which was not quite finished, these unfortunate men crowded together upon pieces of wood, were in water up to the middle.

Mrs. and Miss Schmalz went on board their boat. Mr. Schmalz, notwithstanding the entreaties of every body, would not yet quit the vessel.

The people embarked in disorder, every body was in a hurry, I advised them to wait patiently till every one's turn came. I gave the example, and was near being the victim of it. All the boats, carried away by the current, withdrew and dragged the raft with them: there still remained sixty of us on board. Some sailors, thinking that the others were going to abandon them, loaded their muskets, and were going to fire upon the boats, and particularly upon the boat of the captain, who had already gone on board. It was with the greatest difficulty that I dissuaded them from it. I had need of all my strength, and all the arguments I could think of. I succeeded in seizing some loaded muskets and threw them into the sea.

When I was preparing to quit the frigate, I had contented myself with a small parcel of things which were indispensable; all the rest had been already pillaged. I had divided, with a comrade, eight hundred livres in gold, which I had still in my possession; this proved very fortunate for me in the sequel. This comrade had embarked on board one of the boats, (B)

[A8] XII.—On Mr. Espiau.

The name of this officer cannot be mentioned, in this memoir, without acknowledging the services which he performed on this occasion. To him we owe the lives of several sailors and soldiers who had remained on board. It is he who, notwithstanding the various dangers with which he was surrounded, following only the impulse of his courage, succeeded in saving them. In giving him a command, the minister has paid the debt which the State had contracted towards this officer for his honorable conduct.(A)

[B5] XIII.—Embarkation of the Men who remained on Board the Frigate.

I began to believe that we were abandoned, and that the boats, being too full, could take no more people on board. The frigate was quite full of water. Being convinced that she touched the bottom, and that she could not sink, we did not lose courage. Without fearing death it was proper to do every thing we could to save ourselves: we joined all together, officers, sailors and soldiers. We appointed a master-pilot for our leader, we pledged our honour, either to save ourselves, or to perish all together; an officer and myself promised to remain to the last.

We thought of making another raft. We made the necessary preparations to cut away one of the masts, in order to ease the frigate. Exhausted by fatigue, it was necessary to think of taking some food; the gally was not under water; we lighted a fire; the pot was already boiling, when we thought we saw the long-boat returning to us; it was towed by two other lighter-boats, we all renewed the oath, either all to embark, or all to remain. It appeared to us that our weight would sink the long-boat.

Mr. Espiau, who commanded it, came on board the frigate, he said that he would take every body on board. First, two women and a child were let down; the most fearful followed. I embarked immediately before Mr. Espiau. Some men preferred remaining on board the frigate to sinking, as they said, with the long-boat. In fact, we were crowded in it to the number of ninety persons; we were obliged to throw into the sea our little parcels, the only things we had left. We did not dare to make the least motion for fear of upsetting our frail vessel.

I had had some water-casks and a great many bottles of wine put on board: I had got all these things ready before hand. The sailors concealed in the long-boat what ought to have been for every body; they drank the whole the first night, which exposed us to the danger of perishing with thirst in the sequel.(B)

[A9] XIV.—Occurrences which took place after the Raft was abandoned.

About half-past six in the evening, and just at sun-set, the people in the boats descried the land: that is to say, the high downs of sand of the Zaara, which appeared quite brilliant and like heaps of gold and silver. The sea, between the frigate and the coast, appeared to have some depth; the waves were longer and more hollow, as if the bank of Arguin rose towards the West. But as they approached the land, the water suddenly became shallow, and finding only a depth of three or four feet, they resolved to cast anchor till day-break. Several scattered hills, a few rocky shoals nearly dry, made them presume that they were in the Lagunes, formed by the River St. John; this opinion was verified by the sight of Cape Meric, which appears like the continuation of a high hill coming from the interior, but suddenly rising at its approach to the sea, like the torrents of Volcanic matter. In passing before this cape, out at sea and towards the West, the sea appeared to break over some shoals, which are suspected to be the Southern end of the bank of Arguin, which, according to some persons at Senegal, is dry at low water. (A)

[B6] XV.—Forsaking the Raft.

When we had overtaken the raft, towed by the other boats, we asked the latter to take from us at least twenty men, or otherwise we should sink. They answered that they were already too much loaded. One of our movements, towards the boats, made them fancy that despair had inspired us with the idea of sinking them and ourselves at the same time.

How could the officers imagine that such a design was entertained by Mr. Espiau, who had just before displayed such a noble desire to assist his comrades? The boats, in order to avoid us, cut the ropes which united them together, and made all the sail they could from us. In the midst of this confusion, the rope which towed the raft, broke also, and a hundred and fifty men were abandoned in the midst of the ocean, without any hope of relief.

This moment was horrible. Mr. Espiau, to induce his comrades to make a last effort, tacked and made a motion to rejoin the raft. The sailors endeavoured to oppose it, saying that the men on the raft would fall upon us, and cause us all to perish. "I know it, my friends," said he, "but I will not approach so near as to incur any danger; if the other vessels do not follow me, I will think only on your preservation, I cannot do impossibilities." In fact, seeing that he was not seconded, he resumed his route. The other boats were already far off. "We shall sink," cried Mr. Espiau, let us shew courage to the very last. Let us do what we can: vive le roi! This cry a thousand times repeated rises from the bosom of the waters which are to serve us for a grave. The boats also repeated it, we were near enough to hear this cry of vive le roi! Some of us thought that this enthusiasm was madness: was it the fulness of despair which made them speak so, or was it the expression of the soul broken by misfortune? I know not, but for my part, this moment appeared to me sublime: this cry was a rallying cry, a cry of encouragement and resignation. (B)

[A10] XVI.—On the sudden Gale experienced by the Raft.

This strong gale was the same North West wind which in this season, as has been said before, blows every day with great violence after sun-set; but which, that day, began sooner, and continued till 4 o'clock the next morning, when it was succeeded by a calm. The two boats which resisted it, were several times on the point of being wrecked. The whole time that this gale lasted, the sea was covered with a remarkable quantity of galeres or physalides, (physalis pelasgica) which arranged, for the most part, in straight lines, and in two or three files, cut at an angle the direction of the waves, and seemed at the same time to present their crest or sail to the wind, in an oblique manner, as if to be less exposed to its impulse. It is probable that these animals have the faculty of sailing two or three abreast, and of ranging themselves in a regular or symetrical order; but had the wind surprised these, so arranged on the surface of the sea, and before they had time to sink, and shelter themselves at the bottom, or did the sea, agitated on these shores, to a greater depth than is supposed, make them fear, in this situation, to be thrown upon the coast? However it be, the orders of their march; their disposition, in respect to the force which impelled them, and which they strove to resist; the apparent stiffness of the sail seemed equally admirable and surprising. Mr. Rang, who has been mentioned with praise in this work, having had the curiosity to catch one of these singular animals, soon felt a tingling in his hand, and a burning heat, which made him feel much pain till the next day. Bones of seche gigantesque (sepia, cuttle-fish) already whitened by the sun, passed rapidly along the side of the ship, and almost always with some insects, which having, imprudently ventured too far from the land, had taken refuge on these floating islands. As soon as the sea grew calm, they perceived some large pelicans, gently rocking themselves on the bosom of the waves. (A)

[B7] XVII.—Landing of the Sixty-three Men of the Long-Boat.

The sea was within two fingers breadth of the gunnale of the boat: the slightest wave entered; besides, it had a leak; it was necessary to empty it continually: a service which the soldiers and sailors, who were with me, refused. Happily the sea was pretty calm.

On the same evening, the 5th, we saw the land, and the cry of "land, land," was repeated by every body. We were sailing rapidly towards the coast of Africa, when we felt that we had struck upon the bottom. We were again in distress: we had but three feet water; but would it be possible for us to get the boat afloat again, and put out into the open sea? There was no more hope of being able to reach the shore. As for myself, I saw nothing but danger on the coast of Africa, and I preferred drowning to being made a slave, and conducted to Morocco or Algiers. But the long-boat grounded only once; we proceeded on our route, and by frequent soundings we got into the open sea towards night.

Providence had decided that we should experience fears of every kind, and that we should not perish. What a night indeed was this! The sea ran very high, the ability of our pilot saved us. A single false manoeuvre, and we must all have perished. We, however, partly shipped two or three waves which we were obliged to empty immediately. Any other boat, in the same circumstances, would have been lost. This long and dreadful night was at length succeeded by day.

At day break we found ourselves in sight of land. The sea became a little calm. Hope revived in the souls of the desponding sailors, almost every body desired to go on shore. The officer, in spite of himself, yielded to their wishes. We approached the coast and threw out a little anchor that we might not run aground. We were so happy as to come near the shore, where there was only two feet water. Sixty-three men threw themselves into the water and reached the shore, which is only a dry and burning sand, it must have been a few leagues above Portendic. I took care not to imitate them. I remained with about twenty-six others in the long-boat, all determined to endeavour to reach the Senegal with our vessel, which was lightened of above two-thirds of its burden. It was the 6th of July. (B)

[B8] XVIII.—The Fifteen Persons in the Yawl taken into the Long-Boat; sequel of the day of the 6th.

An hour after landing the sixty-three men, we perceived behind us four of our boats. Mr. Espiau, notwithstanding the cries of his crew who opposed it, lowered his sails and lay-to, in order to wait for them. "They have refused to take any people from us, let us do better now we are lightened, let us offer to take some from them." In fact, he made them this offer when they were within hail; but instead of approaching boldly, they kept at a distance. The smallest of the boats (a yawl) went from one to the other to consult them. This distrust came from their thinking, that, by a stratagem, we had concealed all our people under the benches, to rush upon them when they should be near enough, and so great was this distrust that they resolved to fly us like enemies. They feared every thing from our crew, whom they thought to be in a state of mutiny: however, we proposed no other condition on receiving some people, than to take in some water, of which we began to be in want, as for biscuit we had a sufficient stock.

Above an hour had passed after this accident, when the sea ran very high. The yawl could not hold out against it: being obliged to ask assistance, it came up to us. My comrade de Chasteluz was one of the fifteen men on board of her. We thought first of his safety, he leaped into our boat, I caught him by the arm to hinder his falling into the sea, we pressed each others hands, what language.

Singular concatenation of events! If our sixty-three men had not absolutely insisted upon landing, we could not have saved the fifteen men in the yawl; we should have had the grief of seeing them perish before our eyes, without being able to afford them any assistance: this is not all, the following is what relates to myself personally. A few minutes before we took in the people of the yawl, I had undressed myself in order to dry my clothes, which had been wet for forty-eight hours, from my having assisted in lading the water out of the long-boat. Before I took off my pantaloons I felt my purse, which contained the four hundred francs; a moment after I had lost it; this was the completion of all my misfortunes. What a happy thought was it to have divided my eight hundred francs with Mr. de Chasteluz who now had the other four hundred.

The heat was very violent on the sixth. We were reduced to an allowance of one glass of dirty or corrupted water: and therefore to check our thirst, we put a piece of lead into our mouths; a melancholy expedient!

The night returned; it was the most terrible of all: the light of the moon shewed us a raging sea: long and hollow waves threatened twenty times to swallow us up. The pilot did not believe it possible to avoid all those which came upon us; if we had shipped a single one it would have been all over with us. The pilot must have let the helm go, and the boat would have sunk. Was it not in fact better to disappear at once than to die slowly?

Towards the morning the moon having set, exhausted by distress, fatigue, and want of sleep I could not hold out any longer and fell asleep; notwithstanding the waves which were ready to swallow me up. The Alps and their picturesque scenery rose before my imagination. I enjoyed the freshness of their shades, I renewed the delicious moments which I have passed there, and as if to enhance my present happiness by the idea of past evils, the remembrance of my good sister flying with me into the woods of Kaiserslautern to escape the Cossacks, is present to my fancy. My head hung over the sea; the noise of the waves dashing against our frail bark, produced on my senses the effect of a torrent falling from the summit of a mountain. I thought I was going to plunge into it. This pleasing illusion was not complete; I awoke, and in what a state! I raised my head with pain; I open my ulcerated lips, and my parched tongue finds on them only a bitter crust of salt, instead of a little of that water which I had seen in my dream. The moment was dreadful, and my despair was extreme. I thought of throwing myself into the sea, to terminate at once all my sufferings. This despair was of short duration, there was more courage in suffering.

A hollow noise, which we heard in the distance, increased the horrors of this night. Our fears, that it might be the bar of the Senegal, hindered us from making so much way as we might have done. This was a great error: the noise proceeded from the breakers which are met with on all the coasts of Africa. We found afterwards, that we were above sixty leagues from the Senegal. (B)

[B9] XIX.—Page 162.—Stranding of the Long-Boat, and Two other Boats.

Our situation did not change till the eighth; we suffered more and more from thirst. The officer desired me to make a list, and to call the people to distribute the allowance of water; every one came and drank what was given him. I held my list under the tin cap, to catch the drops which fell, and moisten my lips with them. Some persons attempted to drink sea water; I am of opinion that they did but hasten the moment of their destruction.

About the middle of the day, on the 8th of July, one of our boats sailed in company with the long-boat. The people on board suffered more than we, and resolved to go on shore and get water if possible; but the sailors mutinied and insisted on being landed at once: they had drank nothing for two days. The officers wished to oppose it; the sailors were armed with their sabres. A dreadful butchery was on the point of taking place on board this unfortunate boat. The two sails were hoisted in order to strand more speedily upon the coast, every body reached the shore, the boat filled with water and was abandoned.

This example, fatal to us, gave our sailors an inclination to do the same. Mr. Espiau consented to land them; he hoped to be able afterwards with the little water that remained, and by working the vessel ourselves, to reach the Senegal. We therefore placed ourselves round this little water, and took our swords to defend it. We advanced near to the breakers, the anchor was got up, and the officer gave orders to let the boat's painter go gently, the sailors on the contrary, either let the rope go at once, or cut it. Our boat being no longer checked, was carried into the first breaker. The water passed over our heads, and three quarters filled the boat: it did not sink. Immediately we hoisted a sail which carried us through the other breakers. The boat entirely filled and sunk, but there was only four feet water; every body leaped into the sea, and no one perished.

Before we thought of landing I had undressed myself, in order to dry my clothes; I might have put them on again, but the resolution to land having been taken, I thought that without clothes, I should be more able to swim in case of need. Mr. de Chasteluz could not swim: he fastened a rope round his middle, of which I took one end, and by means of which, I was to draw him to me as soon as I got on shore. When the boat sunk I threw myself into the water, I was very glad that I touched the bottom, for I was uneasy about my comrade. I returned to the boat to look for my clothes and my sword. A part of them had been already stolen, I found only my coat and one of the two pair of pantaloons which I had with me. A negro offered to sell me an old pair of shoes for eight francs, for I wanted a pair of shoes to walk in.

The sailors had saved the barrel of water; and as soon as we were on shore they fought for the drinking of it. I rushed in among them, and made my way to him who had got the barrel at his mouth. I snatched it from him and contrived to swallow two mouthfuls, the barrel was afterwards taken from me, but these two mouthfuls did me as much good as two bottles; but for them I could not have lived longer than a few hours.

Thus I found myself on the coast of Africa wet to the skin, with nothing in my pockets except a few biscuits, steeped in salt water, to support me for several days: without water, amidst a sandy desert inhabited by a ferocious race of men: thus we had left one danger to plunge into a greater.

We resolved to proceed along the sea coast, because the breeze cooled us a little, and besides the moist sand was softer than the fine moveable sand in the interior. Before we proceeded on our march, we waited for the crew of the other boat which had stranded before us.

We had proceeded about half an hour, when we perceived another boat advancing with full sail, and came with such violence on the beach that it stranded: it contained all the family of Mr. Picard, consisting of himself and his wife, three daughters grown up, and four young children, one of whom was at the breast. I threw myself into the sea to assist this unhappy family; I contributed to get Mr. Picard on shore, every body was saved. I went to look for my clothes, but could not find them; I fell into a violent passion, and expressed in strong terms, the infamy of stealing in such circumstances. I was reduced to my shirt and my trowsers. I know not whether my cries, and my complaints, excited remorse in the robber, but I found my coat and pantaloons again, a little further off upon the sand. (B)

[B10] XX.—March in the Desert and Arrival at St. Louis.

We proceeded on our journey for the rest of the day on the 8th of July; many of us were overcome by thirst. Many with haggard eyes awaited only death. We dug in the sand, but found only water more salt than that of the sea.

At last we resolved to pass the sandy downs along the sea coast; we afterwards met with a sandy plain almost as low as the ocean. On this sand there was a little long and hard grass. We dug a hole three or four feet deep, and found water which was whitish and had a bad smell. I tasted it and finding it sweet, cried out "we are saved!" These words were repeated by the whole caravan who collected round this water, which everyone devoured with his eyes. Fire or six holes were soon made and every one took his fill of this muddy beverage. We remained two hours at this place, and endeavoured to eat a little biscuit in order to keep up our strength.

Towards evening we returned to the sea shore. The coolness of the night permitted us to walk, but Mr. Picard's family could not follow us. The children were carried, the officers setting the example, in order to induce the sailors to carry them by turns. The situation of Mr. Picard was cruel; his young ladies and his wife displayed great courage; they dressed themselves in mens clothes. After an hours march Mr. Picard desired that we might stop, he spoke in the tone of a man who would not be refused; we consented, though the least delay might endanger the safety of all. We stretched ourselves upon the sand, and slept till three o'clock in the morning.

We immediately resumed our march. It was the 9th of July. We still proceeded along the sea shore, the wet sand was more easy to walk upon; we rested every half hour on account of the ladies.

About eight o'clock in the morning we went a little from the coast to reconnoitre some Moors who had shewn themselves. We found two or three wretched tents, in which there were some Mooresses almost all naked, they were as ugly and frightful as the sands they inhabit. They came to our aid, offering us water, goat's milk, and millet, which are their only food. They would have appeared to us handsome, if it had been for the pleasure of obliging us, but these rapacious creatures wanted us to give them every thing we had. The sailors, who were loaded with what they had pillaged from us, were more fortunate than we, a handkerchief procured them a glass of water or milk, or a handful of millet. They had more money than we, and gave pieces of five or ten francs for things, for which we offered twenty sous. These Mooresses, however, did not know the value of money, and delivered more to a person who gave them two or three little pieces of ten sous, than to him who offered them a crown of six livres. Unhappily we had no small money, and I drank more than one glass of milk at the rate of six livres per glass.

We bought, at a dearer price than we could have bought gold, two goats which we boiled by turns in a little metal kettle belonging to the Mooresses. We took out the pieces half boiled, and devoured them like savages. The sailors, for whom we had bought these goats, scarcely left the officers their share, but seized what they could, and still complained of having had too little. I could not help speaking to them as they deserved. They consequently had a spite against me and threatened me more than once.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, after we had passed the greatest heat of the day in the disgusting tents of the Mooresses, stretched by their side, we heard a cry of "To arms, to arms!" I had none; I took a large knife which I had preserved, and which was as good as a sword. We advanced towards some Moors and Negroes, who had already disarmed several of our people whom they had found reposing on the sea shore. The two parties were on the point of coming to blows, when we understood that these men came to offer to conduct us to Senegal.

Some timid persons distrusted their intentions. For myself, as well as the most prudent among us, I thought that we should trust entirely to men who came in a small number, and who, in fact, confided their own safety to us; though it would have been so easy for them, to come in sufficiently large numbers to overwhelm us. We did so, and experience proved that we did well.

We set off with our Moors who were very well made and fine men of their race; a Negro, their slave was one of the handsomest men I have ever seen. His body of a fine black, was clothed in a blue dress which he had received as a present. This dress became him admirably, his gait was proud and his air inspired confidence. The distrust of some of our Negroes, who had their arms unsheathed, and fear painted on the countenances of some made him laugh. He put himself in the middle of them, and placing the point of the weapons upon his breast, opened his arms, to make them comprehend that he was not afraid, and that they also ought not to fear him.

After we had proceeded some time, night being come, our guides conducted us a little inland, behind the downs where there were some tents inhabited by a pretty considerable number of Moors. Many persons in our caravan cried out, that they were going to be led to death. But we did not listen to them, persuaded that in every way we were undone, if the Moors were resolved on our destruction, that besides, it was their true interest to conduct us to Senegal, and that in short, confidence was the only means of safety.

Fear caused every body to follow us. We found in the camp, water, camels' milk, and dry, or rather rotten fish. Though all these things were enormously dear, we were happy to meet with them. I bought for ten francs one of these fish which stunk terribly. I wrapt it up in the only handkerchief I had left, to carry it with me. We were not sure of always finding such a good inn upon the road. We slept in our usual bed, that is to say stretched upon the sand. We had rested till midnight: we took some asses for Mr. Picard's family, and for some men whom fatigue had rendered incapable of going any further.

I observed that the men who were most overcome by fatigue were presisely those who were the most robust. From their look and their apparent strength they might have been judged indefatigable, but they wanted mental strength, and this alone supports man in such a crisis. For my part I was astonished at bearing so well so many fatigues and privations. I suffered, but with courage; my stomach, to my great satisfaction did not suffer at all. I bore every thing in the same manner till the last.

Sleep alone, but the most distressing sleep possible, had nearly caused my destruction. It was at two or three o'clock in the morning that it seized me, I slept as I walked. As soon as they cried halt I let myself fall upon the sand and was plunged into the most profound lethergy. Nothing gave me more pain than to hear at the expiration of a quarter of an hour "up, march."

I was once so overcome that I heard nothing, I remained stretched upon the ground while the whole caravan passed by me. It was already at a great distance when a straggler happily perceived me; he pushed me, and at last succeeded in awaking me. But for him I should doubtless have slept several hours. If I had awoke alone in the middle of the desert, either despair would have terminated my sufferings, or I should have been made a slave by the Moors, which I could not have borne. To avoid this misfortune I begged one of my friends to watch over me, and to waken me at every stage, which be did.