Having doubled a point which extends into the sea, we entered the bay, at the bottom of which is the town of St. Croix.  The appearance of Teneriffe is majestic:  the whole island is composed of mountains, which are extremely high, and crowned with rocks terrifying from their size, which on the north side, seem to rise perpendicularly above the surface of the ocean, and to threaten every moment to crush by their fall, the vessels which pass near their base.  Above them all rises the Pico, the summit of which is lost in the clouds.  We did not perceive that the Pic was constantly covered with snow as some voyagers affirm, nor that it vomits forth lava of melted metal; for when we observed it, its summit seemed intirely destitute of snow and of volcanic eruptions.  At the foot of the mountain, and up to a certain elevation excavations filled with sulphur are observed; and in its neighbourhood several of the sepulchral caverns of the Guanches, the ancient inhabitants of the island.

Towards noon the Echo corvette, which had parted company, rejoined us, and passed under the stern of the frigate:  she was ordered to imitate our manoeuvres, which she instantly did; she did not send any boat on shore.  Thus united, we lay to together in the bay of St. Croix.  About four o’clock in the afternoon, the boat having returned on board we directed our course for Senegal.  They had bought in the town some earthen jars of a large size, precious wines, oranges, lemons, banian figs, and vegetables of all kinds.

Several unfortunate Frenchmen were on the island who had been long prisoners of war; they lived upon what the Spaniards chose to give them.  They had been restored to liberty on the conclusion of peace, and waited only for a favorable opportunity to return to France.  Their entreaties to the officer who commanded the boat were useless; he had the cruelty to refuse to restore them to their country and their families.  In this boat there was another officer M. Laperere, who strongly insisted on bringing away these unfortunate persons; his entreaties could not move him who commanded the boat.

The depravity of morals at St. Croix is extreme; so much so that when the women heard that some Frenchmen were arrived in the town, they placed themselves at their doors, and when they passed, urged them to enter.  All this is usually done in the presence of the husbands, who have no right to oppose it, because the Holy Inquisition will have it so, and because the monks who are very numerous in the island take care that this custom is observed.  They possess the art of blinding the husbands, by means of the prestiges of religion, which they abuse in the highest degree; they cure them of their jealousy, to which they are much inclined, by assuring them that their passion, which they call ridiculous, or conjugal mania, is nothing but the persecution of Satan which torments them, and from which they alone are able to deliver them, by inspiring their dear consorts with some religious sentiments.  These abuses are almost inevitable in a burning climate, where the passion of love is often stronger than reason, and sometimes breaks through the barriers which religion attempts to oppose to it:  this depravity of morals must therefore be attributed to inflamed passions, and not to abuses facilitated by a religion so sublime as ours.