“About four o’clock in the afternoon,” says Mr. Correard, “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 Montereau; 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.