er parts had been swept away for miles. Everything not built of solid
masonry had disappeared. We passed what had been a range of negro huts,
but they were levelled to the ground. The negroes were busily searching
for their property among the ruins, while the women held their infants
in their arms, and the other children by their sides. Here and there was
the mother wailing over the dead body of some poor little thing which
had been crushed to death. They took no notice of us. About half a mile
further on, to our great delight, we fell in with the crews of the other
boats, who were sitting by the side of the road. They had all escaped
unhurt; their boats, being so much more buoyant than ours, had been
thrown up high and dry. They joined us, and we proceeded on our way. On
our road we fell in with a cart blown over, under the wheel of which was
the leg of the negro who conducted it. We released the poor fellow; his
leg was fractured. We laid him by the side of the road in the shade, and
continued our march. Our whole route was one scene of desolation and
distress; but when we arrived at the town, we found that there it was
indeed accumulated. There was not one house in three standing entire--
the beach was covered with remnants of bodies and fragments of vessels,
whose masts lay forced several feet into the sand, and broken into four
or five pieces. Parties of soldiers were busy taking away the bodies,
and removing what few valuables had been saved. We turned up into the
town, for no one accosted us or even noticed us; and here the scene was
even more dreadful. In some streets they were digging out those who were
still alive, and whose cries were heard among the ruins; in others they
were carrying away the dead bodies. The lamentations of the relatives--
the howling of the negroes--the cries of the wounded--the cursing and
swearing of the French soldiers, and the orders delivered continually by
officers on horseback, with all the confusion arising from crowds of
spectators, mingling their voices together, formed a scene as dreadful
as it was novel. After surveying it for a few minutes, I went up to an
officer on horseback, and told him in French, that I wished to surrender
myself as a prisoner.

"We have no time to take prisoners now," replied he; "hundreds are
buried in the ruins, and we must try to save them. We must now attend to
the claims of humanity."

"Will you allow my men to assist you, sir?" replied I. "They ar