various effects. These two officers approached, with an air of kindness,
the mournful and motionless Corréard, "Accept," said they, "these trifling
presents, they are sent to you by Major Peddy, and Captain Cambpell: we,
sir, have desired the happiness of bringing you this first assistance; we
were commissioned by all our comrades, to obtain from you accurate
information respecting your wants; you are, besides, invited to partake of
our table, all the time we shall pass together: the Major, and all the
officers, beg you to remain here, and not to go to the pestilential camp at
Deccard, where a mortal distemper would carry you off in a few days." It
would be ungrateful not to name these two young officers: one bears the
name of Beurthonne, without being a relation of the Governors; the name of
the other is Adam.

While these generous officers were fulfilling, with so much politeness and
kindness, these acts of humanity, Major Peddy entered the room, followed by
other slaves, also loaded with things, which he came to offer to the friend
of the naturalist, Kummer, by whom he was accompanied. The Major approached
the unfortunate Corréard, who seemed as if awaking from a dream; he
embraced him, shedding tears, and vowing to him a friendship which never
abated during the whole time that he remained with him. What a sublime
image is a fine man, almost two metres in height, who sheds tears of pity
at the sight of an unfortunate man, who was not less affected, and, shed
them in abundance, penetrated with the most delicious feelings of gratitude
and admiration. After he had recovered from the emotion excited in him by
the sight of the melancholy situation of the stranger, whom he had just
snatched from misery, the Major made him the most obliging offers: and that
Mr. Corréard might not decline them, he assured him, beforehand, that he
himself and many of his comrades had received similar assistance from
Frenchmen; and that their countrymen ought to allow him the honour of
discharging, if it were possible, his debt to their nation, for the
generous treatment which he had received from them.[46] Offers so nobly
made, could not but be accepted by Mr. Corréard, who expressed to his
benefactor, how happy he should esteem himself to be able to merit the
friendship that he had just offered him, and that he wished nothing so much
as to be able, one day, to shew his gratitude in a manner worthy of
himself, and of a Frenchman. From that time Mr. Corréard received all
imaginable assistance from the Major and his officers, and it may be said
with truth, that he owes them his life, as do the four French officers who
were with him.

On the 24th of August, Mr. Clairet paid the debt of nature. It was
thirty-four days after our arrival at St, Louis. Mr. Corréard had the grief
to see him die at his side, and to hear him say before his death, that he
died satisfied, since he had had time to recommend to his father a natural
son whom he loved. At this time Major Peddy had not yet relieved Mr.
Corréard; he was without clothes, so that he could not attend the funeral
of his comrade, who had just expired, worn out by the sufferings which he
had experienced on the raft.

The remains of this young officer received the honours due to them. The
English officers, and especially Major Peddy, acted on this occasion in a
manner worthy of praise.

Perhaps our readers will not be sorry to be made acquainted with some of
the details of this mournful ceremony. They are drawn up by Mr. Corréard,
who still feels a sad pleasure in calling to mind the moments which
necessarily made upon him so great an impression.

The body of the unfortunate Clairet was laid out in a subterraneous
apartment of the hospital, whither immense crowds repaired to see once more
the mortal remains of one who was almost regarded as an extraordinary man;
and who, at this moment, owed to his cruel adventures, the powerful
interest, which the public favor attached to him and to those, who had so
miraculously escaped from all the combined afflictions sustained on the
fatal raft.

"About four o'clock in the afternoon," says Mr. Corréard, "I heard the
mournful sounds of martial instruments under the windows of the hospital.
This was a dreadful blow to me, not so much because it warned me of the
speedy fate which infallibly awaited me, as because this funeral signal
announced to me the moment of eternal separation from the companion of my
sufferings: from the friend, whom our common misfortunes had given me, when
I passed with him the most dreadful moments of my life. At this sound I
wrapped myself in my sheet, and crawled to the balcony of my window, to bid
him the last farewell, and to follow him with my eyes as far as possible. I
know not what effect the sight of me may have produced, but when I now
reflect upon it myself; I imagine that the people must have believed it was
a spectre welcoming a corpse to the abode of the grave."

"As for me, notwithstanding my emotion, the sacrifice which I supposed I
had made of my life, permitted me to contemplate and to follow in detail
the sad spectacle on which my almost extinguished eyes eagerly dwelt. I
distinguished a crowd of slaves who had obtained permission from their
masters to be present at the ceremony. A body of English soldiers was
placed in a line; after them came two lines of French soldiers and sailors.
Immediately after, four soldiers bore the coffin on their shoulders, after
the manner of the ancients. A national flag covered it, and hung down to
the ground; four officers, two French and two English, were placed at the
angles, diagonally opposite, and supported the corners; on the coffin were
laid the uniform and the arms of the young soldier, and the distinctive
marks of his rank. On the right and left French officers of the army and
navy, and all the officers of the administration, ranged in two files,
formed the procession. The band of music was at their head: afterwards,
came the English staff with the respectable Major Peddy at its head, and
the corps of citizens, led by the mayor of the town; lastly, the officers
of the regiment, and a detachment, commanded by one of them, closed the
procession. Thus was conducted to his last repose, this other victim of the
fatal raft, snatched in the flower of his age, from his friends and his
country, by the most fatal death, and whose fine qualities and courage
rendered him worthy of a less deplorable fate."

This brave officer, who was only twenty-eight years of age, had been eight
years in the service; he had received the cross of the Legion of Honor at
the _Champ de Mai_, as a reward for the services which be had performed at
Talavera de la Reina, Sierra Morena, Saragossa, Montmiraill, Champaubert,
and Montéreau; he was present, also, at the too deplorable day of Waterloo;
he was then ensign-bearer of his regiment.

Such were the events that passed in the isle of St. Louis. The bad season,
which, in these countries is so fatal to the Europeans, began to spread
those numerous and dreadful maladies, which are so frequently accompanied
by death. Let us now turn to the unhappy persons assembled in the camp at
Daccard, not far from the village of that name, situated on the Peninsula
of Cape Verd.

The French Governor, as we have already observed, being unable to enter
into the possession of the colony, resolved to go and remain upon Cape
Verd, which had been recognized to be the property of France. On the 26th
of July the Argus brig, and a three-roasted vessel belonging to Messrs.
Potin and Durécur, took on board the remains of the crew of the Medusa,
that is, the men who had landed near Portendick, and some persons from the
raft: those whose health were the most impaired remained in the hospital at
St. Louis. These two vessels set sail; the Governor embarked on board that
with three masts, and they arrived in the Goree Roads at nightfall. The
next day the men were removed to Cape Verd: several soldiers and sailors
had already repaired to it; these were those who had first crossed the
desert: the flute, _la Loire_, had conveyed them thither some days before,
with the commander of the frigate. It had also landed the troops it had on
board, consisting of a company of colonial soldiers. The command of the
camp was confided to Mr. de Fonsain, a respectable old man, who died there
the victim of his zeal. What procured him this fatal distinction was the
resolution taken by the Governor to go and reside in the island of Goree,
to be able to superintend the camp, and the ships, and doubtless for the
sake of his health.[47]

The shipwreck of the frigate having much reduced the number of the
garrison, and occasioned the loss of a great quantity of provisions which
she had on board, it was necessary to dispatch a vessel to France, to
obtain assistance and fresh orders, on account of the difficulties that had
been raised by the English Governor. The _Echo_ corvette was chosen for
this purpose, which sailed on the 29th of July, in the evening. She had on
board fifty-five of those who had been shipwrecked, three of whom were
officers of the navy, the head surgeon, the accountant, three _élèves_ of
the marine, and an under surgeon. After a passage of thirty-four days, this
corvette anchored in Brest Roads. Mr. Savigny says, that during the six
years he has been in the navy, he has never seen a vessel so well kept, and
where the duty was done with so much regularity as on board the Echo. Let
us return to the new establishment, which collected the remnant of us on
Cape Verd.

A camp was formed there to receive them near a village inhabited by
negroes, and called Daccard, as has been stated above. The natives of the
country appeared to be pleased at seeing the French found an establishment
on their coast. A few days after, the soldiers and sailors having had some
misunderstanding, the latter were removed, and distributed between the
Loire and the Argus.

The men who formed this camp were soon attacked with the diseases of the
country. They were ill fed, and many of them had just endured long
fatigues. Some fish, very bad rum, a little bread, or rice, such were their
provisions. The chace also contributed to supply their wants; but the
excursions which they made to procure game, frequently impaired their
health. It was in the beginning of July that the bad season began to be
felt. Cruel diseases attacked the unhappy French; who being exhausted by
long privations, these terrible maladies spread with dreadful rapidity. Two
thirds of them were attacked by putrid fevers, the rapid progress of which
hardly allowed the physicians time, to administer that precious remedy, the
produce of Peru, of which, by some mismanagement, the hospitals were nearly
destitute.[A12] It was in these distressing circumstances that Mr. de
Chaumareys came to take the command of the camp. Other measures were taken,
and the hospitals were no longer in want of bark; but dysenteries, which
frequently proved mortal, spread every where. On all sides there were none
but unhappy men who gave themselves up to despair, and who sighed after
their country: it was scarcely possible to find men enough for the duty of
the camp. It is remarkable, that the crews of the vessels, which were in
the roads of Goree, were hardly sensible of the influence of the bad
season: it is true these crews were better fed, better clothed, and
sheltered from the inclemency of the air; it is, besides, pretty certain,
that this road is healthy, while the maladies of the country prevail on
shore. Such was the situation of the camp of Daccard, when, on the 20th of
November, the French Governor, was authorized, by Mr. Macarty, Governor
General of the English settlements, to inhabit, on the former coast of the
French possessions, the place which should suit him the best. Mr. Schmalz
chose St. Louis.[48]

As we were neither of us at the camp of Daccard we have not been able to
detail all that passed there, and to speak only of things, with which we
are perfectly acquainted, we have been obliged to pass over this part of
our narrative rather slightly.

Mr. Corréard, who had remained at the isle of St. Louis, hastened to pay
his respects to the governor, when he came, in consequence of the
permission of Mr. Macarty to inhabit that town. He relates, that on this
occasion, the governor received him very well, pitied him much, and
protested that if he had not been taken better care of, it was not his
fault: Mr. Schmalz, allowed, that he had been the worst treated of all the
shipwrecked persons, a thing which he had long known; "But, added he, your
misfortunes are terminated, and henceforward you will want for nothing. I
will send you, every day, very good rations of rice, meat, good wine, and
excellent bread; besides, in a short time, I will put you to board with Mr.
Monbrun, where you will be extremely well off." These last promises were as
unavailing as the first had been. One day, however, in a fit of the fever,
Mr. Corréard sent his servant to the governor with a note, in which he
asked for a bottle of wine, and one of brandy; he, in fact, received what
he had asked for; but when he was recovered from his delirium, he was going
to send back these two bottles; however, on reflection, he thought it would
not be proper, and he resolved to keep them. This is all that he was able
to obtain from the French authorities, during five month's time that he
remained at Saint Louis. It is even probable that he would have returned to
France without having cost his government the smallest trifle, but for that
fit of the fever, which deprived him of his reason, and during which, be
made the request which he afterwards thought to be indiscreet and improper.

On the 23rd, or 24th of November, he again saw his two benefactors Major
Peddy and Captain Campbell, who were about to depart on their great
expedition to the interior of Africa.

At the moment of their separation, Major Peddy was eager to give to Mr.
Corréard the last marks of true friendship, not only by his inexhaustible
generosity, but also by good advice, which the event has rendered very
remarkable, and which, for this reason, we think it necessary to mention
here. The following is pretty nearly the discourse which the good Major
addressed to Mr. Corréard at their last interview: "Since your intention,"
said he, "is to return to France, allow me, first of all, to give you some
advice; I am persuaded that, if you will follow it, you will one day have
reason to congratulate yourself on it. I know mankind, and without
pretending exactly to guess how your Minister of the Marine will act
towards you, I, nevertheless, think myself justified in presuming that you
will obtain no relief from him; for, remember that a minister, who has
committed a fault, never will suffer it to be mentioned to him, nor the
persons or things presented to him, that might remind him of his want of
ability;[49] therefore, believe me, my friend; instead of taking the road
to Paris, take that to London; there you will find a number of
philanthropits, who will assist you, and I can assure you that
henceforward, you will want for nothing. Your misfortunes have been so very
great that there is no Englishman who will not feel a pleasure in assisting
you. Here, Sir, are 300 francs, which will suffice for the expences of your
voyage, whether you go to Paris or to London. Reflect a moment on what I
propose to you, and if your resolution is such as I wish you to take, let
me know it immediately, that I may give you letters of recommendation to
all my friends, as well as to my patrons, who will be truly happy to serve
you."

Mr. Corréard was deeply affected by what he had just heard; the noble
generosity of the excellent man to whom he already owed his life, and who
entered with such perfect readiness, into all the details which he thought
the most proper to finish his work, and insure the happiness of his poor
friend, filled the heart of the latter with emotion and gratitude; yet,
shall we say it? The advice to go to London, which the Major had just given
him, had in it something that distressed him; he had not heard it without
recollecting that he was a Frenchman, and some secret suggestions of
self-love and national pride, told him that a Frenchman who had served his
country, and to whom unparalleled misfortunes had given so many claims to
the justice, as well as to the kindness of his own government, could not,
without offering a kind of insult to his fellow countrymen, begin by going
to England, and there throwing himself on the public compassion. These
sentiments, therefore, suggested much more by his heart than by his
understanding, dictated his answer to the Major.

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

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

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

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

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

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

On the 28th of November, in the morning, he embarked on board of a coasting
vessel, which conveyed him first on board the _Loire_, which was bound for
France: he was no sooner embarked, than the fever seized him, as it did
almost every day; he was in a dreadful situation, weakened by five months'
illness, consumed by a burning fever, added to the heat of the noon-day
sun, which struck perpendicularly on his head; he thought he was going to
die; he had, besides, painful vomitings, produced by the heat, and by an
indisposition caused by the fish on which he had breakfasted before his
departure. The little vessel crossed the bar; but it falling a dead calm,
it could not proceed: they perceived this on board the _Loire_, and
immediately dispatched a large boat to fetch the passengers out of the heat
of the sun. While this boat was coming, Mr. Corréard fell asleep upon a
coil of cables that were on the deck of the little vessel; but before he
fell quite asleep, he heard some one say, "_There's one who will never get
to France_." The boat came in less than a quarter of an hour; all those who
were about my sick friend, embarked on board the boat, without any one's
having the generosity to awaken him; they left him asleep, exposed to the
beams of the sun; he passed five hours in this situation, after the
departure of the boat. In his life he had never suffered so much, except
during the thirteen days on the raft. When he asked, on awaking, what was
become of the other gentlemen, he was told that they were gone, and that
not one of them had shewed any intention of taking him with them. A breeze
springing up, his vessel at last reached the _Loire_, and there on the
deck, in the presence of the sailors, he reproached in the bitterest
manner, those who had abandoned him, and even said offensive things to
them. These sallies, the consequence of his exasperation, caused him to be
looked upon as out of his mind, and nobody troubled himself about the
severe truths which he had thus publicly uttered. The _Loire_ sailed on the
1st of December, and arrived in France on the 27th of the same month.

When Mr. Corréard got to Rochefort, he waited on the Intendant of the
Marine, who received him kindly, and authorised him to remain in the
hospital as long as he should think necessary for his recovery. He was
placed in the officers' ward, where he received the utmost attention from
the medical gentlemen, who besides the aid of their art, shewed him the
greatest regard and mitigated his misfortunes by kind consolations. Mr.
Savigny saw every day his companion in misfortune, and he often repeated,
"I am happy, I have at length met with men sensible to my misfortunes."
After having passed thirty-three days in this fine hospital, he judged his
health sufficiently recovered, and desired to leave it, in order to go to
his family.

We shall here conclude the nautical part of our history; but as, since our
return to France, particular circumstances and a series of events, which we
were far from foreseeing, have, as it were prolonged the chain of our
adventures, we think it will not be amiss to add another article,
respecting what has happened to us since we have returned to our country.

Mr. Savigny thought, that after having undergone unexampled misfortunes, he
had a right to describe all the sufferings to which he and his companions
in misfortune had been exposed for thirteen days. Was it ever heard that
the unhappy were forbidden to complain? Well, the fresh misfortunes which
have befallen him, and which he is going to lay before our readers, have
arisen, from his not having buried in silence these disastrous events.

During his passage on board the _Echo_, he wrote the account of our unhappy
adventures; his intention was to deliver his narrative to the Minister of
the Marine. When he arrived in France, in the month of September, some
persons advised him to go to Paris, where, said they, "_Your misfortunes
will procure you the favor of the Ministry_," and it was considered as an
absolute certainty, that some recompense would make him forget the
considerable losses which he had sustained, the dangers which he had just
escaped; and the pain arising from his wounds, for at that time he still
wore his right arm in a sling. He listened to the advice which was given
him, because it came from very sensible persons, and set out for the
capital, carrying his manuscript with him. He arrived at Paris on the 11th
of September: his first care was to go to the office of the Minister (of
the Marine), where he deposited all the papers which he had drawn up
respecting the shipwreck of the Medusa. But what was his astonishment to
see the day after, the _Journal des Débats_ of the 13th of September, an
extract from his narrative, copied almost literally: he then endeavoured to
discover whence the editors could have obtained these details; it cost him
but little time to solve the riddle.

We shall not here explain by what means his manuscript became known to the
editor of the _Journal_. We shall here content ourselves with saying, that
while Mr. Savigny was still at Brest, a person, who has connexions with the
officer of the marine, with the intention of serving him, asked him for a
copy of his memoir, saying, that by the medium of a person in office, he
could get it conveyed to the minister of the marine. This copy of our
adventures was entrusted to this person, and by him sent to Paris. Mr.
Savigny had acted in this manner, because his intention, at that time, was
to go to his family, without passing through the capital. It appears that
this copy was not discreetly kept, since it reached the editor of the
_Journal des Débats_: certainly, he who received it from Brest, was very
far from wishing to injure the author of the memoir. If he had had the
smallest idea of all the disagreeable consequences arising from the
publicity which he gave to the narrative, by shewing it to several persons,
he would have kept it more carefully, or at least, he would have delivered
it immediately to the minister of the marine for whom it was intended. This
publicity, by means of the _Journal_, drew upon Mr. Savigny the most
serious remonstrances. The very same day he was sent for to the office; he
was told that his excellency was discontented, and that, he must
immediately prove, that he was innocent of the publication of our
misfortunes, which affected all France, and excited a lively interest in
the fate of the victims. But for Mr. Savigny, every thing was changed;
instead of the interest, which his situation ought to inspire, he had
called down upon himself the severity of the minister, and was to justify
himself, for having dared to write that he had been very unfortunate, by
the fault of others. The reception he met with at the office affected him
so much, that but, for the advice of some persons, he would have resigned
his commission at once. There was but one means to prove, that it was not
he, who had given his narrative to the editor of the _Journal des Débats_:
this was to obtain the certificate of the editor himself. Conscious of the
truth, he went to him, and that honorable writer, without hesitation, did
homage to the truth, by the following certificate.

"I certify that it is not from Mr. Savigny, that I have the details of the
shipwreck of the Medusa inserted in the journal of the 13th of September,
1816."

(Signed)--The Editor of the _Journal des Débats_.

This certificate was put into the hands of M. ---- and by him presented to
his excellency, who, however, did not appear satisfied, because this
certificate, though it proved, that Mr. Savigny was not the person who had
rendered public the history of our adventures, threw no light on the means
by which the manuscript had become known to the editor. One of the
principal persons in the office, having signified to him the opinion of his
excellency, who found this justification insufficient, Mr. Savigny again
had recourse to the editor of the journal, who gave a second certificate as
follows.

"I certify, that it is not from Mr. Savigny, that I have the details
inserted in the Number of the 13th of September, but from the office of the
Minister of the Police." After this new proof, it was no longer doubted,
but that Mr. Savigny had been the victim of an indiscretion, and he was
told that he might return to his post. He therefore left the capital, after
having experienced many vexations; but those, which the publication of our
misfortunes was to cause him, were not yet at an end.

The English translated the details contained in the Journal of the 13th of
September, and inserted them in one of their Journals which reached
Senegal. In this amplified translation, there were some pretty strong
passages, which were far from pleasing the governor, and M. ------, one of
the officers of the frigate. They perceived that there was but one means to
combat the narrative; this was to endeavour to make it believed, that it
was false in many particulars. A report was therefore drawn up at St Louis;
it was brought to Mr. Corréard to be signed, who, after perusing it,
refused, because he found it contrary to the truth. The governor's
secretary came several times to the hospital, to urge him for his
signature; but he persisted in his refusal: the governor himself pressed
him very earnestly one day that he went to solicit leave to depart; he
answered, that he would never consent to sign a paper quite at variance
with the truth, and returned to his hospital. The next day, his friend, Mr.
Kummer, went to him, and invited him to return to the governor's, in order,
at length, to sign this paper, because he had been informed, that if he
persisted in his refusal, he should not return to France. These gentlemen,
must therefore, have felt themselves deeply interested, to be reduced to
employ such measures towards an unfortunate man, exhausted by a long
sickness, and whose recovery depended on his return to Europe, which they
thought not to grant him, except on condition of his signing a false
narrative, contrary to what he had himself seen; for one paragraph was
employed to prove that the towrope had _broken_; could he sign it, who was
himself an eye witness, and who had been assured by more than twenty
persons, that it had been _made loose_. Besides this falsehood, it was
stated one passage, that, when the raft was left, the words _we abandon
them_, were not pronounced; in another passage, that Mr. Savigny, in
publishing his account, had shewn himself ungrateful to his officers, who
had done every thing to serve him personally; there were, besides, some
improper personalities: he was in particular much surprised to see at the
bottom of this paper, the signature of a man, whose life Mr. Savigny had
saved with his own hand.[51] Mr. Corréard's perseverance in withholding his
signature, triumphed over injustice, and his return to Europe was no longer
retarded. But the same manoeuvres had more success in another quarter, and
Messrs. Dupont, Lheureux, Charlot, Jean Charles, and Touche-Lavilette could
not escape the snare which was laid for them. They were labouring under
that terrible fever which carried off the French with so much rapidity,
when they were invited by the governor to sign this narrative. Some yielded
to the fear of displeasing his excellency; others conceived hopes of
obtaining his protection, which, in the colonies is no trifling advantage;
others again were so weak, that they were not even able to make themselves
acquainted with the paper to which they were desired to put their names. It
was thus, that our companions were induced to give testimony against
themselves, to certify the contrary of what they had seen respecting all
that had been done, to bring about our destruction. Our readers have just
seen the noble disavowal of Mr. Griffon, of the false impressions which had
deceived him in respect to us: in order that the reader may be able to form
a just opinion of the report directed against us, we insert here a document
equally precise and decisive: it is a declaration of Mr. Touche-Lavillette,
who acknowledges, that he signed in confidence, a paper, the contents of
which were unknown to him, as well as the purpose for which it was drawn
up.[53]

Thus supported by authorities, the value of which any body can now
appreciate, this tardy and inexact report was addressed to the minister of
the marine. Mr. Corréard, when he landed at Rochefort, informed Mr. Savigny
of it, and gave him a certificate of what has been just related. The latter
procured two others, which were delivered to him, by those of his
companions in misfortune, who were in France. These certificates will be
found in the notes (54) (55) (56).

Provided with these three certificates, Mr. Savigny solicited permission to
go to Paris, in order to be able to let his excellency see, that they were
seeking to deceive him. Two months passed without information. Mean time,
Mr. Corréard departed for the capital, taking a letter from his comrade,
for a person in the office, to whom it was delivered, and who did not give
a decisive answer to what was asked of him. At length, Mr. Savigny received
a letter from Paris, in which he was informed, "That not only he would not
receive the permission which he solicited, but that, as long as the present
minister was at the head of affairs, he would have no promotion." This
letter, which he had so long expected, was dated May 10, 1817. Mr. Savigny
disgusted by all that he had just experienced, gave in his resignation,
after having served six years, and made as many expeditions by sea. On
leaving the service, this medical officer, who had several times narrowly
escaped perishing in the waves, was honored by the regret of the superiors
under whom he has been employed, as may be judged by the copy of the [57]
certificate, which they gave him when he resigned his situation. Fresh
misfortunes have also befallen Mr. Corréard, from the time that he left
Rochefort, till the moment that he was able to join his companion in
misfortune, to write together the account of their shipwreck.

On the 4th of February 1817, thinking himself entirely recovered, he
resolved to set out for Paris, where business rendered his presence
necessary; but as his pecuniary resources were slender, and he had been at
considerable expence to clothe himself, (for he was almost naked when he
landed from the _Loire_) he thought he could make the journey on foot. On
the first day he felt only a slight pain, on the second it increased, and
on the third, the fever seized him. He was then three leagues from
Poitiers, near a very little village: exhausted with fatigue, and weakened
by the fever, he resolved to go to the mayor, and ask him for a billet;
this functionary was from home, but his wife said, that at all events, it
would be necessary first to obtain the consent of Monsieur the Marquis de
------ Colonel of the National Guard. The weary traveller thought there
could be no impropriety in waiting on the Marquis: he was deceived in his
expectation; the Colonel gave him a very bad reception, and was insensible
to his entreaties; it was in vain that he shewed him his certificates, his
pass, his wounds, and even his arms which shook with the fever: nothing
could move him. The unfortunate invalid, in despair, retired, cursing the
inhumanity, which he had not expected to find in an officer of the National
Guard, promising in his own mind, never to forget his illustrious name, and
the unfeeling manner in which he had answered to his requests. Exhausted as
he was, he was obliged to drag on another weary league on foot, in order to
reach a public house where he might rest himself. The next day, with much
difficulty, he got to Poitiers. He had the happiness to find a man of
feeling in the Mayor, who was much affected by his melancholy situation; it
was, indeed, calculated to excite interest; for a few minutes before he
entered the town-hall, he fainted, but the most charitable assistance was
bestowed on him by a respectable lady, and he soon recovered from this
swoon. One of the clerks soon gave him a billet, assuring him that it was
upon one of the best houses in the town; which was true; and the poor
invalid owns, that in his life, he never has received more affectionate
care than that which he met with in the house of Mr. Maury, proprietor of
the hotel of the Roman Antiquities. Poitiers was therefore a place of
happiness for him. It was soon known in the town, that one of the
shipwrecked persons from the raft, was within its walls; and during the
whole day nothing was spoken of but that melancholy event. Two persons,
well known for their talents, and the high offices which they have filled,
came to the relief of Mr. Corréard: both had been formerly exiled; they
knew what misfortune was, and knew how to pity that of an unhappy man, who
had just experienced such extraordinary hardships; they invited him to
spend the whole of the fine season at their country houses; but desiring to
reach Paris as soon as possible, he refused the generous offer that was
made him, and after having rested three days at Poitiers, he left it by the
diligence, and at last arrived in the capital.

On his arrival, his first step was directed by gratitude; he recollected
the signal services which he had received from the English officers, during
his abode at Saint Louis; and his heart urged him to enquire of the
ambassador of that nation, if he had not received any intelligence
respecting his benefactors.[58]

After he had thus discharged the duty which was imposed on him by their
beneficence, he made all the necessary applications to the office of the
Marine to obtain an employment in the capital. He was answered that it was
impossible, advising him to make an application for a situation in the
colonies, particularly Cayenne. Three months passed in useless
solicitations to obtain this employment, as well as the decoration of the
legion of honour, which he had been led to hope for.

During this time he neglected nothing which he thought might conduce to
enable him to attain the object which he thought he might propose to
himself without being accused of extravagant pretensions. Excited by the
advice of a great many persons, whose judgment, as well as their noble and
generous sentiments, commanded implicit confidence, he resolved to go to
the very fountain of favors, to carry into the royal palace the sight of
his strange misfortune, to invoke that hereditary goodness, the bright
patrimony of the Bourbons, which so many other unfortunate persons have not
solicited in vain. But the malignant influence of the adverse star, which
so long persecuted Mr. Corréard, doubtless continued to manifest itself
here. Neither he nor any other person will accuse the heart of the august
personages to whom he addressed his petition; but whether timidity, the
natural concomitant of misfortune, or a certain delicacy, hindered him from
renewing his applications, for fear of seeming importunate, whether, as in
the crowd of solicitors who surround princes, it is morally impossible that
some should not be forgotten or less remarked, Mr. Corréard's ill-fortune
placed him among this less favored number, or whether it be the effect of
some other unknown adverse cause, he obtained on this side only vain hopes,
as well as a just idea of the obstacles of every kind, with which the best
princes are, as it were, surrounded without being conscious of it, and
which keep back or turn aside the favor, which is always granted in their
heart, just at the moment that it is on the point of being declared.

He first presented a petition to His Royal Highness Monsieur. He solicited
the insignia of that order which was instituted to recompence all kinds of
civil and military merit, to spread among all classes of society, the noble
flame of emulation, of that order which was offered to Goffin, whose
firmness forced his desponding companions, to hope for the assistance that
was preparing for them: which has just been given to several of the
shipwrecked crew of _La Caravane_,[59] who in their disaster, shewed
themselves equally generous and intrepid; but who, however, had nothing to
complain of but the elements, nothing to combat but the tempest.

He has every reason to believe that Monsieur had the goodness to sign his
petition; but he has not been able to discover where, or how it has been
lost on the way without reaching its destination. In the inquiries which he
made at the office of the Prince's Secretary, he met with a young man
eighteen or 20 twenty years of age, who already wore the same mark of merit
which Mr. Corréard desired, and who only expressed an astonishment which
was more than disobliging, at the subject of his demand, asking him if he
had been twenty-five years in the service. Mr. Corréard, feeling on his
side something more than surprise, thought it best to withdraw, but not
till he had observed to this very young man, that he who appeared so
difficult about the claims of others must, according to appearance, in
order to obtain the cross of the legion of honor, have got the years of his
ancestors services counted instead of his own.

His friends again persuaded him to petition the Duke d'Angouleme, from
whom, as High-Admiral of France, these friends thought that Mr. Corréard
might expect an intervention more likely to promote the success of his
application to the Minister of the Marine. He therefore went to the
Tuileries on the 8th of May, and though his wounds still rendered walking
painful to him, he had the good fortune to meet with the Prince as he was
coming from a review, and to present him a memorial as he passed. His Royal
Highness received him graciously, expressed his satisfaction at seeing one
of the persons who had escaped from the fatal raft, and pressing his hand
in the most affable manner, said to him, "My friend, you have experienced
very great misfortunes. It seems that amidst these disasters you have
behaved well." After having run over the memorial, the Prince was pleased
to add: "Thus it is that the King should be served; I will recommend you
to His Majesty, and let him know your conduct and your situation."

These marks of kindness have hitherto been all that Mr. Corréard has
obtained by this memorial. However, His Royal Highness transmitted it to
the navy-office, but there is every reason to suppose that it will remain
buried there amidst the mass of papers; from which it might be presumed
that the recommendations of princes are received with great indifference by
the clerks of ministers, and that their offices are the shoals where the
petitions of the unhappy are lost; in fact, a man of great experience, to
whom Mr. Corréard communicated this mischance, told him, that, in such an
affair, he would rather have the protection of the meanest clerk, than that
of the first prince of the blood.

We think it superfluous to detain the reader any longer, with two or three
other attempts, which were still more unfortunate, and only revived painful
recollections in the mind of Mr. Corréard.

At last he received a letter from the Minister of the Marine, dated the 4th
of June: it was a thunder-clap to him, for he was made to understand that
all his applications would probably be in vain.

However, on the 20th of July, he received a note from Mr. Jubelin, inviting
him to call at the Office of the Marine. His heart opened at this ray of
hope; it was merely to know whether it were true, that he had received a
pass to repair from Rochefort to his home. He answered in the affirmative,
which seemed to cause much surprise, for one had just been refused to Mr.
Richefort, who solicited it in vain, though he was also one of those
shipwrecked. He profited by the opportunity to inquire whether the
expedition to Cayenne was soon to depart? A vague answer being returned, he
represented how unfortunate he and his companions on the raft were, that
they could obtain nothing, while some officers of the frigate had been
appointed to commands. Mr. Jubelin answered that the minister owed them
nothing, and particularly to him: that he had gone of his own free will,
and had engaged to ask nothing of the minister, except what was stipulated
and mentioned in the treaty of May 16, 18l6, by which His Excellency made
to the explorers, numerous concessions (which it would be too long to
mention here) on condition that they should correspond with His Excellency,
through the Governor of Senegal; that they should be placed under the
orders of that governor, and that they should undertake nothing without his
approbation.

The impartial public will judge if, after such conventions, and having
allowances, and passes from the government, it was to be presumed that he,
who had been thus treated, would be told that they owed him nothing, not
even assistance.

He learned, in the office, that the counsellor of State, Baron de Portal,
had the intention to obtain for him, the decoration of the Legion of Honor,
and that, for this purpose, he had had a memorial drawn up in his favour:
but the minister had written in the margin, _"I cannot lay this request
before the King."_ Thus the voice of the unfortunate Corréard could not
reach the throne; the minister would not permit it. Doubtless if His
Majesty had been informed, that some unhappy Frenchmen, who had escaped
from the raft of the Medusa, had long and in vain solicited his minister,
his paternal goodness would have given them proofs of his justice and his
benevolence. His kind hand which is extended even to the guilty, by
conferring his favors upon us his faithful subjects, would have made us
forget our misfortunes and our wounds; but no, an unfriendly power, between
us and the throne, was an insuperable barrier, which stopped all our
supplications.

Mr. Corréard persuaded of the inutility of making fresh applications, gave
up for the present all farther solicitation for what he had so well
deserved by his courage and his services. The change in the ministry has
revived his hopes: a letter from that department informs him that his
Excellency would willingly embrace an opportunity to serve him[60].

A minister, when he is really so disposed, easily finds means to employ an
unfortunate man who asks but little.

Such are the vexations which we have experienced since our return to
France: now returned to the class of citizens, though reduced to
inactivity, after having exhausted our resources in the service, disgusted,
forgotten, we are not the less devoted to our country and our king. As
Frenchmen, we know that we owe to them our fortune and our blood. It is
with the sincere expression of these sentiments that we shall conclude the
history of our adventures.

In fine, we think that the reader will not be sorry to have some notices
concerning the French settlements on the coast of Africa. As they seemed to
us very interesting, we shall examine, but briefly, the places themselves,
and the advantages that might be derived from them.

These details will be a happy digression from the sad accounts of our
misfortunes, and as the object of them is of great public utility, they
will not be out of their place at the conclusion of a work, in which, we
have thought it our duty, less for our own interest, than that of the
public service, to employ our humble efforts for the disclosure of the
truth.

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