A voyage to Senegal : $b or, Historical, philosophical, and political memoirs, relative to the discoveries, establishments and commerce of Europeans in the Atlantic Ocean, from Cape Blanco to the river of Sierra LeoneDurand, Jean Baptiste Léonard
History
A voyage to Senegal : $b or, Historical, philosophical, and political memoirs, relative to the discoveries, establishments and commerce of Europeans in the Atlantic Ocean, from Cape Blanco to the river of Sierra Leone
Durand, Jean Baptiste Léonard
Africa, Northwest; Senegal -- Description and travel
About three o’clock the storm began to subside, and the waves
broke with less violence against our vessel. We then perceived
that it was low water; but the darkness of the night prevented
us from distinguishing where we were, or ascertaining the place
of our shipwreck; nevertheless, without knowing what distance we
were from land, we thought it probable that we might get to it,
and resolved to make the attempt. A small canoe was therefore let
down, and I was the first who got into it: Longer and the lieutenant
followed me, but we did not find sufficient water to work the boat;
we therefore got out of it, and walked for about an hour in the sea,
preceded by two sailors, who sounded at every step, and served as
guides. After passing through different depths of water, but not
sufficient to stop us, we at length landed, and sent back the two
sailors to inform our companions that we were safe, and invite them
to follow the route we had taken.
On quitting the vessel we left all our clothes, which might have
prevented us from swimming, if necessary: I had nothing on but
a pair of trowsers, in one of the pockets of which I had put a
letter with my address, in order that my family might be informed
of my fate, if I should be drowned, and cast on shore. This was the
only precaution which I thought it necessary to take. We therefore
found ourselves on an unknown spot, four in number, almost naked,
and without the means of subsistence.
The night continued to be very dark, and the rain poured down in
torrents. We, however, continued to walk for two hours, without
knowing whither we were proceeding: at length we reached a mansion,
which we walked round several times, but could not find any door
open, or a place in which we could obtain shelter, though we made
noise enough to be heard, if the inhabitants had not all been in a
sound sleep. At length, after much trouble, I discovered a little
gate, which led into the park. I raised the latch, the gate opened,
and we found ourselves, with inexpressible pleasure, in a large
walk, which led to the vestibule of the mansion. I knocked at the
door with all my strength, and we heard the barking of dogs inside;
we also soon found that the domestics were stirring: they appeared
to be running to the chamber of the master, doubtless to inform
him that the house was infested by banditti; as they only spoke
to us through a garret window. They asked us first in English,
and then in bad French, for what reason we had entered the park at
such an hour? I answered in a feeble voice, and lamentable accent,
that we were unfortunate Frenchmen, whose ship had been wrecked,
and that we requested an asylum.
If that is the case, answered the person who first spoke, you may
be easy; I will order my doors to be open, and you shall receive
all the assistance that you may be in want of.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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