CHAPTER IV

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Our arrival at Verdun—A joyful reception—General Wirion—His indulgence towards the prisoners—The meetings of old shipmates and friends—Mental employment the best antidote against ennui and dissipation—Restiveness at confinement—Anxiety to be again in the active service of Old England—Meditations upon an escape—Contrivances to avoid a breach of parole or any breach of honour—Three comrades, or compagnons de voyage—Scaling ramparts—A descent of seventy-two feet—The open country—The march commences—Flying by night, and hiding in woods by day—Heavy rains, dismal roads, and swampy beds, with bad fare and good hearts—Leaping a moat—A dislocated knee—The march resumed, and pursued lamely—The town of Neuville—Extreme sufferings from thirst—Water at length procured, anguish allayed, and the escape proceeded upon with renewed spirits.

On the 16th of July 1804 we arrived early at Fumez. Here an old woman doing the duty of crier attracted my notice. At a corner of one of the streets she began her preamble. She had a small bar of iron in one hand and a large key in the other, as a substitute for a bell. We were allowed to do as we pleased on our arrival, and to go to any inn we liked. Our guard informed us that the commandant of Givet had inserted in our feuille de route that we should be considered as officers on parole and be treated accordingly.

From Fumez we were marched to MeziÈres, and put up at a tavern, being now officers of rank, which our landlady appeared to have been informed of. This old lady was, if possible, more extortionate than any we had yet met with. We found that, unless we previously made an agreement, particularly specifying what we wished, and regulating the price of every article, we should be liable to the greatest imposition; and this, indeed, is pretty generally the case throughout France. From MeziÈres we passed through Sedan, Stenay, and a small village, Sivry; and on the 23rd arrived at Verdun, the long-wished-for place of our ultimate destination.

We were received by Captain Brenton, our officers, and countrymen in the most joyful and cordial manner. For two nights, until we could procure lodgings, we were billeted at the inn Les Trois Maures, at which the Emperor Napoleon put up on his return after his splendid campaign in Germany and the Treaty of Tilsit. Two or three days after our arrival, Mr. Pridham introduced us to General Wirion, who gave us permission to walk in the suburbs, provided our commanding officer became responsible for our conduct, corps pour corps; which Lieutenant Pridham had done. In the course of a few days I procured lodgings, recently vacated by a dÉtenu, Sir James de Bathe, with Mr. Ashworth, a midshipman, who had been one of my messmates in our late ship, the Hussar. He afterwards died at Minorca, in consequence of wounds he had received off Tarragona, when a lieutenant of H.M.S. Centaur, while in the act of snatching from destruction the unfortunate Spaniards who were being sabred by the French cavalry when rushing into the sea to our boats for protection.[9]

As soon as I found myself a little settled, in conjunction with my much-esteemed friend Ashworth I employed a French master, and pursued my studies with the utmost assiduity. I never left the town, except occasionally on race-days or days of other public amusements. It should be remarked that races, and all species of amusements that can deprive an Englishman of his property, or divert his attention for a moment, were allowed by the general who commanded the prisoners. I have been informed that there were fixed prices for all these indulgences. The hazard-table and rouge et noir have been the destruction of many of our countrymen. Every kind of debauchery and libertinism, I am sorry to add, was permitted and practised in this town. Latterly, from the principal people of fashion and men of property being dispersed, horse-racing ceased, and gambling also, in a great degree.

We likewise engaged a fencing-master, and, as soon as we were tolerably advanced in the French language, we procured an Italian master, and applied ourselves to study under him with the greatest diligence. These literary pursuits were of incalculable advantage to us; for, whilst they strengthened the mind, and spread over it the charms inseparable from the acquisition of useful knowledge, they fortified us against the allurements of dissipation, lightened the weight of our captivity, and saved us from that moral disease ennui, with all its train of passions and disordered appetites which people are prone to inflict upon themselves by an indulgence in habits of idleness. We were stimulated in our zeal for our studies by reflecting that we were acquiring that which would make us more useful to our country in our profession. However, what we witnessed and what we experienced convinced us of the inestimable benefits of mental pursuits in mitigating the sufferings of captivity, as well as of the extent to which those sufferings are aggravated by a want of intellectual employment.

In a few months after my arrival, a Mr. M’Grath, a relation of mine, was escorted to this depot, with Mr. Wills, master’s mate, and a boat’s crew of the frigate Acasta. Mr. M’Grath was surgeon’s assistant. They had been made prisoners on the island of Beniget, near Brest. Mr. Wills had been ordered early in the morning to land on that island and load his boat with sand for scouring the decks; and Mr. M’Grath had received permission to accompany him, merely for the purpose of taking a walk and amusing himself while the men were loading the boat; but they had no sooner landed than they were surrounded by a number of French troops that were lying in ambush for them, and had been disembarked the night before for the express purpose of surprising some of the English boats which were daily in the habit of coming on shore. Our poor fellows were immediately secured, embarked, and conducted to the Continent. From the cruel treatment which they experienced on their march, they were so exhausted on their arrival at Verdun that both the officers were seized with a violent fever. Mr. Thos. George Wills, an excellent officer, now a post-captain, recovered in a short time; but his companion lost the use of his limbs, and was confined to his bed, with little or no intermission, until July 1808, when he burst a blood-vessel and expired without a groan. He lived with me the greater part of that time.

But to return to the thread of my own narrative. We continued at Verdun from July 1804, amusing ourselves by study, and in the winter by skating, etc., until August 1807, when I began to consider my situation minutely and to deliberate upon my unfortunate captivity. Those deliberations had the effect of making me very uncomfortable and dissatisfied; nor could I afterwards reconcile myself to study or to any amusement whatever. I reasoned with myself that I was losing the prime of my youth in captivity. I saw no prospect of peace or an exchange of prisoners; no hope or possibility of being promoted in my present state, nor of recommending myself, through any personal exertions, to the notice of the Admiralty. I was deprived, while in France, of being able to afford my country, my friends, or myself the least assistance. The youthful visions of the glories of the naval service again came over me; but sadly were my spirits broken when I reflected that my hopes of joining others in the strife of honour and patriotism were destroyed, unless I could rescue myself from bondage.

In this horrible state, almost of stupefaction, I remained for some days; when my poor friend Ashworth observed to me, that he and Mr. Tuthill, a particular friend, a midshipman also, had been canvassing the cruelty and hardships they laboured under, and had, in consequence, formed the intention, if I would join them, of transgressing, and getting deprived of their permission to go out of town (what the French deemed parole), and making their escape to their native country. This was to me the most flattering intelligence—it was what I had been revolving in my brain for some days. We accordingly met at an appointed place to deliberate on the best method of putting in execution the exploit we were about to commence, and agreed that it was necessary to procure knapsacks, provisions, bladders to contain water, etc., prior to our getting closely confined, as we should be under the necessity of travelling by night, and of concealing ourselves in the woods during the daytime.

Having, therefore, provided all the requisite materials—viz., files, gimlets, saws, and other articles which are needless to mention,—that, in case of being taken, we might be able to break our fetters and escape from the slavery and punishment we were well aware would await us; and Mr. Ashworth and I having waited upon Lieutenant Pridham, to request he would withdraw his responsibility for us, which he accordingly did,—we commenced by missing one appel; but, to our great astonishment, this breach of conduct was overlooked and forgiven.[10] We next remained out of town very late. This was also forgiven, though we even got into the guard-house. In short, it was several days before we succeeded in being deprived of our passports, or “permissions”; and we suspected, or rather felt confident, from the lenity shown to us, that our design of escape was suspected. Our personal honour, as well as that of the navy,—and, indeed, of the English nation in general,—had precluded the possibility of our attempting to escape whilst we were upon what was deemed, by the French commandant, parole; but now we were literally under close confinement; and with the reflection that, perhaps, so favourable an opportunity of getting away might never again be afforded to us, we were not slow in forming our resolutions.

It was on the night of the 28th of August 1807 that we determined to take French-leave of our “prison-house”; and we had provided an excellent rope to enable us to scale the ramparts. Each had procured his portion, or quantum, of between three and four fathoms; but that which Tuthill had obtained was merely thumb-line. This, of course, was tailed on, or put at the bottom of the rope, in order that if it gave way we should have the less distance to fall.

It may be imagined that our hearts beat high with conflicting emotions. That great sufferings were to be endured, and great dangers encountered, but little interested spirits so young and ardent as ours; or they were rather overwhelmed by that love of daring and honourable enterprise which often stimulates youth as well as manhood to the greatest and best exertions. On one side we had to reflect upon the mortification of capture, with an increased severity, and, what to us seemed infinitely worse, a prolonged duration of confinement; whilst, on the other, should success crown our determined efforts, our hearts thrilled with the thoughts of once more walking the deck of a British ship-of-war, in all the elation of a confidence that we were serving our king and our country in a righteous cause.

I returned to my lodgings; but it is necessary for me to observe that on my way I happened to meet with a friend, a Lieutenant Essel of the navy, who, with the greatest frankness, communicated to me that he had come to a resolution to attempt his escape from France, and he expressed how much he wished that I would accompany him. This singular coincidence naturally excited in my mind a suspicion that he had arrived at a knowledge of our secret, and I declined giving him a direct answer for the present; but I reflected that as he did not mention either of my companions, it was a proof that he did not know of our design, or that he exercised a prudence which might render him worthy of confidence. I quitted him, repaired to my comrades, and communicated to them all that had passed. After a consultation, upon a point to us so momentous, we agreed that he might join our perilous expedition, provided that he was not in debt, and that he could otherwise escape from the town without dishonour. Very high feelings and scrupulous notions of honour pervaded our naval officers. Our new comrade satisfied us upon all these points. He assured us that he had been deprived of his passport, or “permission”; that he had settled all his affairs; and that he had a surplus of £50 to join with our funds in meeting the difficulties we were but too sure to encounter. Under these circumstances we all cordially shook hands; and never did four young adventurers attempt an exploit under a more friendly and gallant resolution to share a common fate.

The time so long expected arrived; and at the hour before midnight we met at the appointed spot. How much were we chagrined and vexed to find that not only at this late hour were the sentinels unusually on the alert, but that—what seemed more extraordinary—great numbers of people were passing to and fro. We were obliged to defer our escape to the night following.

I confess I felt the greatest regret at quitting my poor sick relative, our only other comrade, M’Grath; nor could I make him acquainted with the step I was about to take without experiencing an emotion impossible to be described. His feelings at our separation were as acute as my own.

The sea-coast, of course, was the point fixed upon for our destination; and we agreed that about Étaples was the most likely part to procure a boat.

The anxiety and uneasiness which we felt the next day were beyond description. Some of our countrymen who called to see us, en passant, threw out such insinuations, and made such remarks upon our conduct of late, that we were under the most serious apprehensions of being shackled, and on the road to Bitche, before the much-desired hour, eleven at night. “The ——,” says Shakespeare, “fears each bush an officer.” We were well aware that there were several Englishmen employed and paid regularly for conveying the most trivial occurrence that might take place amongst the prisoners to the French general. I have frequently known prisoners of war, through malice, to be taken out of their beds in the night, fettered, and conducted, under an escort of gendarmes, to the depots of punishment, without ever being informed of the crime or fault of which they had been accused; and merely from some of those miscreants giving false information, in order to be revenged for any private animosity they might have had against the person so treated.

The long-wished-for moment at length arrived: the intermediate time had passed in great excitement. We met. Everything seemed quiet, and favourable to our escape. We were in the spirit to take every advantage of circumstances, or to create circumstances, if creating them were possible. In a few seconds, by the aid of our rope, and by the assistance of a friend, Alexander Donaldson, many years back my shipmate, a master in the navy, and afterwards a prisoner of war,—he was a native of Portsoy, in Banffshire, but is now no more,—we got down these most formidable ramparts of between seventy and eighty feet high. We descended, to our surprise, with little damage, except the loss of some of the skin from my hands. This was caused by the whipcord part of the line, which we were not able to grasp firmly, and it brought my companions altogether on my back and shoulders, in the ditch, before I could move or extricate myself. Happy were we to find ourselves, so far at least, at liberty. Our course was N.W. Each man buckled on his knapsack, arranged his implements and weapons of defence, and, full of the spirit of determined adventure and of resolute suffering, we started upon our course.

The next morning, the 30th August 1807, at about three o’clock the day began to dawn, and as we had run during most of the time since we had quitted our miserable imprisonment, we conjectured that we were at least five British leagues from Verdun. We determined not to approach any houses, nor to expose ourselves during the daytime, except in a case of the greatest necessity.

We were, fortunately, close to the very wood which we had pricked off upon our map for our first halt: it was in the vicinity of Varennes, where Louis XVI., his queen, sister, and two children were arrested in their flight from the Tuileries in 1791, and were conducted back to Paris. We instantly entered this wood, and, after a long search, we succeeded in finding a thick part, though, unfortunately, it was contiguous to a footpath. However, we hid ourselves so well, that, unless information had been spread of our flight, and people came purposely in search of us, we had no apprehension of being discovered. In this our lair we lay with tolerable comfort and security, until about nine o’clock, when our confidence vanished, and we were greatly annoyed; for we found the pathway to be much frequented, and the voices of passengers, and of children who came to enjoy their Sunday morning in nutting and sporting in the wood, greatly distressed the whole of us. Fortunately none of the nut-trees or bushes were very close to us, and at noon we had the happiness of seeing the intruders hurry home to their dinners. We likewise took our refreshments, and thought it wise to destroy our hats, and to supply their places with white beaver caps, À la FranÇaise, with which we had provided ourselves.

At seven in the evening it was tolerably dusk, and, having shouldered our knapsacks and made all other arrangements, we left the wood, and recommenced our march, making a direct N.W. course through the country, over hill and dale, mountain and plain; traversing ploughed fields, wading through bogs and marshes, leaping ditches, and clearing all enclosures with a buoyancy of spirit that gave us astonishing strength and vigour: nothing could intercept or retard our progress. The happiness we felt was inexpressible. The freshness of the open air, the active use of our unconfined limbs, and the hope of ultimate triumph and liberty, made us consider ourselves as regenerated creatures.

But before daylight (on 31st August) it began to rain heavily. We discovered a wood convenient for our concealment, except that it was contiguous to a farmhouse. After much of anxious deliberation, we resolved, however, to secrete ourselves in it; for we reflected that it might not be possible for us to reach another, before daylight might betray us to the stirring peasantry, compared to which any less chance of danger was preferable. I at this moment perfectly recollect the spot in which we placed ourselves, and even at this distance of time I seem to behold all that passed around us.

We provided ourselves, after a long search—the wood being excessively thin—with a tolerably good sort of hiding-place; but we could distinctly hear the people in the farmyard conversing, which, I need scarcely say, caused us great alarm. Our situation all this day was very deplorable. On entering our hiding-place we were wet to the skin, and it continued raining without ceasing until late in the evening: the wet we received from the branches and leaves was much worse than if we had been in an open field without a tree. Our chief employment was squeezing the water out of our clothes and stockings. Our store of provisions, which principally consisted of light biscuits and sausages, was very much damaged. At dusk, about the usual hour—seven,—after taking a little refreshment, we bundled on our knapsacks and accoutrements, and proceeded on the old course, N.W. We walked a good distance this night, the weather being more favourable.

Just before daylight on the next morning (1st Sept.) we entered a most excellent thick wood, admirably well calculated for night-walkers. We took some refreshment, and endeavoured to sleep a little after the fatigues of the night, and after congratulating one another at being thus far successful. At about ten we were alarmed by the voices of people apparently close to us. We found that they were passing on an adjacent pathway, which we had not before perceived; but we were too well placed to be under any dread of being discovered. The number of squirrels, rats, mice, and vermin about us this day was very great. Having made our customary preparations, at seven we got out of our lurking-hole, and proceeded to the border of the wood, on the side towards which we had to direct our course. On our arrival we discovered some labourers still at work in a field close to the outside of the wood, which obliged us to halt until they disappeared. We then proceeded with some anxiety, as we saw a village exactly in our track, and which we could not avoid without making a very great circuit. In about two hours after we had quitted the wood we found our course suddenly impeded by a ditch or moat, and, upon sounding it with our clubs (which, by the bye, were of a tolerably good length), we found it very deep; in fact, its depth by far exceeded anything we could have anticipated. We surveyed this formidable obstruction or barrier, marching first in one direction, and then in another, without being able to come to any resolution, although we all knew and felt that, by some means or other, cross it we must, or submit to be recaptured.

At length I discovered one part which was, or seemed to be, narrower than the rest, and in this case of no alternative, which was becoming more desperate every minute, I resolved to make one great effort and to try to leap over. I accordingly gave myself space for a good run opposite the narrowest spot, and, leaping with all my force, I landed on the opposite bank some feet beyond the margin. The channel turned out not to be so broad as it had appeared, and, knowing that it was exceedingly deep, I had been the more anxious to secure a good landing, lest I should fall back into the stream. The event, however, was like escaping from Scylla to be lost in Charybdis—or rather the reverse; for, in avoiding the water, I had to find my injury on the land. The consequence of the great impetus I had given to my leap was, that, the opposite bank being gravelly and hard, and my knapsack lifting and coming down with a sudden jerk immediately my feet touched the ground, I was thrown on my side, and my right knee was twisted in the joint to such a degree that I absolutely thought it was snapped in two.

In this condition I remained extended on the ground; and, whilst in the most excruciating pain, I kept cautioning my companions to be more careful and to guide themselves by my experience. They at last effected the leap, and joined me without injury or inconvenience. They examined the joint, and found, to my inexpressible joy, that the knee was not broken; but so unfortunate an accident, at such a critical moment, deprived me of every hope of being able to prosecute the long and difficult journey that we had to accomplish. These reflections distressed me to such a degree that my ideas became distracted. I could not, of course, expect my comrades to remain with me; and I had the wretched prospect of being abandoned by them, and left either to suffer and perish in the open field, or to be captured, and my recovery to be succeeded by the gaol. Instant death I thought by far preferable; but Divine Providence deigned to interpose its clemency, and taught me the useful lesson—to prefer to despair a confidence in its wisdom and mercy.

My comrades paid every attention to my injury. They chafed the joint, and rubbed it with the small portion of spirits with which each of us was provided. I found great relief from this application, and in a short time, with their assistance, I was able to get up and put my foot to the ground.

I made an effort to step out, but was under the necessity of requesting that one would assist me on each side, which they did. Thus we moved on slowly, and passed the village about which we had been so anxious. My knee, I was happy to feel, was gradually getting better; and we managed to proceed in this state about three leagues, when we discovered a very fine, commodious wood.

It was about two o’clock on the 2nd, when my comrades proposed that we should rest in this wood during the ensuing day: they would not, on my account, proceed farther. No determination could be more congenial to my feelings than this. I was excessively dejected and fatigued. Having, at length, found a proper part of the wood, each took his position and enjoyed a little refreshment, and then endeavoured to take rest; but so violently did my knee pain me that I was obliged to have two of my friends lying with their whole weight on my leg, thigh, and right side. They fell fast asleep in a very short time, yet I could not close an eye. The distressing and melancholy reflection of being left behind, in consequence of my illness, still recurred. The thought of being picked up and conducted to some dreadful dungeon, or some other ignominious habitation, was constantly present; and while agitated with such ideas, what mortal could think of sleeping? Thus occupied in thought, wavering between hope and despair, I remained nearly two hours, my friends in a sound sleep the whole time. At last, finding their weight on my side troublesome, I extricated myself from them without awaking them or causing them the least disturbance.

I now imagined that I had an excellent opportunity of trying whether I could rise and walk by myself, and I accordingly made an effort to stand, which I accomplished with some difficulty; but on attempting to walk, so great was the pain, and so excessive the weakness of the knee, that I immediately fell backwards on the earth. The necessity of proceeding was so urgent that during the ensuing day I availed myself of the opportunity of my companions being asleep to repeat the experiment, but with no better success. In order, however, to encourage my kind and brave associates, I kept answering all their inquiries with assurances that I felt much better.

At the usual hour of the evening, all arrangements being made for pursuing our march, we stole to the edge of the wood, which I never expected to be able to leave. I was supported by a friend on each side, as I had been the night before, and most burdensome must I have been to them. On arriving at the outskirts, we found it too early to leave the wood. There was a very high tree at the point to which we came, and it was proposed that Mr. Tuthill should climb up it to discover the nature of the country that lay before us in our course. This he immediately did in good style, being intrepid and active; and, to our great satisfaction, reported it to be a beautiful plain, without wood, river, or anything to impede our progress. From the excessive height of the tree, we had no doubt that he could extend his view over several leagues.

We at length proceeded, and I insisted that my friends should leave me in the rear, to hobble on and struggle for myself. I felt, I confess, extremely dejected, but was determined not to expose my feelings. At first the pain I endured was terrible; however, confident that there was no fracture, though with excruciating agony, I at length firmly brought my leg to the ground, and contrived to limp with the assistance of my club. We had not advanced above a league when we perceived a beautiful vineyard right before us. We halted to taste the grapes, which were a heavenly relief to me, as I was almost exhausted. The grapes, though sour, revived our spirits amazingly. After eating a great many, we amply filled our pockets. In a short time I found my knee become more easy, and the gloom that had so very much depressed me was rapidly disappearing, until I at length proceeded in excellent spirits. Indeed, I never was more surprised than at the sudden change in my frame altogether, my knee improving every mile I walked.

At daylight, on the 3rd (of Sept.), we were much alarmed, not being able to make out a wood in any direction. At last, to our unspeakable delight, we perceived at a small distance a copse or kind of little forest, not more than three or four acres in circumference. We repaired to it without hesitation, and found it thick and well adapted for our concealment. Having pitched upon a convenient spot, we deposited our knapsacks, disburdened ourselves of our apples, etc., and, after being refreshed with a little biscuit and sausage, together with a dessert of fruit, which we could now afford, we betook ourselves to rest. I had not closed an eye since I had received the hurt; but at this moment I no sooner extended my weary limbs upon the ground than I was in a profound sleep; nor did I awake until roused by my comrades, who were alarmed by the voices of two men who came to work close to our hiding-place. We could hear them so very distinctly that we were of opinion they could not be distant more than fifty paces. Their conversation was chiefly respecting the towns of Charleville and MeziÈres. They continued their work until sunset.

From hearing them mention those towns so repeatedly, in addition to other parts of the conversation, we were convinced of our being too far to the northward of our proper course. Travelling by nights, frequently extremely dark, though we had an excellent compass, it was impossible to avoid sometimes erring a little, more especially whenever a river turned us out of our proper direction. Those labourers being gone, which we did not regret, as the reader may suppose, we commenced our preparations, as we were accustomed, and, at the usual time of the evening, proceeded on our march towards the coast. My knee, when we started, was painful and stiff, but it gradually grew better by exercise.

At midnight we came suddenly upon a small town situated in a valley; nor did we perceive our error until it was too late to retrace our steps to avoid it. However, as it was an open town, we trusted that at so late an hour of the night we might escape through it without danger. We accordingly advanced as quickly as possible; nor did we meet a single soul until we got into the opposite fauxbourg, when we had to encounter a peasant on horseback. Mr. Ashworth asked him the name of the town we had just passed, and he informed us it was Neuville. We thanked him, continued our route, and that night travelled a considerable distance. In our journey we had often experienced a dreadful scarcity or total absence of water; and this night our thirst was very great, but we were able to allay it by the fruit we gathered in the orchards.

At about three o’clock on the morning of the 4th of September we entered a very convenient wood; and here we resolved to lie concealed for that day. We refreshed ourselves with a very small quantity of our biscuit and sausages, and had occasion to remark that our stock was getting very low, notwithstanding we had been so abstinent that strength for our journey could scarcely be supported. The dew was extremely heavy, and the ground very wet; so, making our beds of heath, leafy branches, and grass, we sank quietly to sleep. I found myself happy beyond expression, in consequence of my knee daily getting better.

The next evening, at the usual hour, we quitted our covert, but under distressing circumstances, for our fruit was exhausted, we had not a drop of water, and our thirst was excessive. We moved forward, almost perishing for want of moisture for our parched mouths and throats, and gasping lungs; and in vain we endeavoured to console ourselves by the hope of finding some brook or rivulet to relieve our anguish.

We travelled nearly seven hours in this horrible condition, without being able to discover a drop of water, except at one place, where there was a large ditch in which flax was steeped or deposited. I flew to it for relief, and, though its stench was abominable, I might have drunk copiously, had not my companions assured me that the consequence would be an immediate death. So raging was my thirst that I had still great difficulty in restraining myself; but at last I proceeded without tasting it.

I have been in all climates, almost in all parts of the universe; have endured excessive thirst at different periods of my life; have drunk vinegar, salt water, and even sucked the tarred sails on board a ship to endeavour to assuage that agony; but I solemnly declare that I never felt anything equal to what I suffered from thirst during this night.

Finding no chance of obtaining water, at least in our direct course, we unanimously agreed to approach the first village we should discover, for the purpose of procuring a supply from some of the inhabitants’ wells. An opportunity soon occurred, and we directed our steps with the greatest eagerness to this much-desired spot; but previously to our arrival at the village we descried a small orchard. My friend Tuthill, always on the alert, and naturally, as I before observed, active and expert, scaled the orchard wall in a very short time, notwithstanding the constant barking of a dog on the premises, and he returned with a supply of apples. They were very small, and of the wilding kind; but they answered our purpose, and alleviated our distressed state. We passed through one extremity of the village, got a supply of what we stood so much in need of, and proceeded; keeping more to the westward than we had lately done, in consequence of our discovery concerning Charleville. Having plenty of water, we now got on apace, with lighter hearts and brighter spirits.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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