Extract from the Letter of a Friend Homeward-bound.
June.—“After leaving the Sandheads we were obliged to put into Trincomalee, Ceylon, in consequence of an accident to the chain-cable, and having sprung a leak. We put to sea again, but the leak was as bad as before whenever the sea made the vessel pitch; fortunately, we reached the Isle of France, March 19th, and were in quarantine three days and a half. On landing I thought I had never seen a dirtier place nor filthier people than Port Louis and its inhabitants. And now I will tell you an odd story.
“There is an old French soldier living on this island, who has the power of seeing in the clouds the reflections of approaching ships, and this when the ships are at the distance of 300 or 400 miles. Three days before we came in, he made his public report at the proper office that five ships and three brigs were approaching the island, pointing out the different directions in which they lay. The exact number and description of vessels, of which our ship, the Lady Flora, was one, came in; we were the first at anchor, and the others came in during the day of our arrival and the next. At the time he reported seeing us, we must have been at least 350 miles from the island. The old man died suddenly the day after our arrival. He was an European, born in France, and had been thirty-six years on this island. Buonaparte made him liberal offers to go home to France, but he would not—as he said that it was only in a particular atmosphere, such as that round this island, that he could exert his singular faculty. The old man used to lie or sit nearly all day, with a telescope in his hand, looking at the clouds all round the island. He foretold the number and description of ships when the British expedition to this island was approaching, and, as I understand, quite correctly.
“Once he reported that there were either two brigs lashed together, or a four-masted ship coming to the island; and this turned out to be a large 1200 ton ship, which had lost all her masts in a storm, and had put up four temporary spars to supply the place of masts. The reflection, therefore, in the clouds must have been very correct. And surely the power of seeing these reflections is not confined to one individual, but many have the power of vision equal to this man’s, if they had the patience and time to make the trial.”
My friend spoke with great pleasure of the kindness he received from the governor of the island, during his stay at Reduit; and in raptures of a most beautiful waterfall. The thermometer at Reduit was only 75°, the elevation above the sea being 1200 feet. He says; “The island is an unhealthy place for animals; out of 212 Java ponies that arrived here two months before, fifty or sixty are dead.”
How much I like the description of the visionary life the old man led, lying idly on the shore and gazing on the clouds! It brought to memory the happy days I formerly passed on the western shore of Hampshire, seeing or fancying the most beautiful visions in the clouds, whilst I listened to the sweet monotony of the waves—
“I may not muse—I must not dream—
Too beautiful those visions seem