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. Correard 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. Correard 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