St. Louis is a bank of scorching sand, without drinkable water or verdure, with a few tolerable houses towards the South, and a great number of low smoky straw huts, which, occupy almost all the North part. The houses are of brick, made of a salt clay, (argile salée) which the wind reduces to powder, unless they are carefully covered with a layer of chalk or lime, which it is difficult to procure, and the dazzling whiteness of which injures the eyes.
Towards the middle of this town, if it may be so called, is a large manufactory in ruins, which is honored with the name of a fort, and of which the English have sacrificed a part, in order to make apartments for the governor, and to make the ground floor more airy, to quarter troops in it.
Opposite is a battery of heavy cannon, the parapet of which covers the square, on which are some trees, planted in strait lines for ornament. These trees are oleaginous Benjamins (Bens Olefères) which give no shade, and ought to be replaced by tamarinds, or sycamores, which are common in this neighbourhood, and would thrive well on this spot. None but people uncertain of their privilege to trade on this river, merchants who came merely to make a short stay, and indolent speculators would have contented themselves with this bank of burning sand, and not have been tempted by the cool shades and more fertile lands, which are within a hundred toises, but which, indeed, labour alone could render productive. Every thing is wretched in this situation.
Saint Louis is but a halting place in the middle of the river, where merchants who were going up it to seek slaves and gum, moored their vessels, and deposited their provisions, and the goods they had brought with them to barter.
What is said in the narrative of the means of attacking this port, is correct. When the enemy have appeared, the Negroes have always been those who have defended it with the most effect. But unhappily, there, as in the Antilles, persons are already to be found, who are inclined to hold out their hands to the English.
At Louis there are some palm-trees, and the lantara flabelliformis. Some little gardens have been made; but a cabbage, or a salad, are still of some value. Want, the mother of industry, obliged some of the inhabitants, during the war, to turn their thoughts to cultivation, and it should be the object of the government to encourage them.
[A15] XXIV.—On the Islands of Goree and Cape Verd.
At the distance of 1200 toises from the Peninsula of Cape Verd, a large black rock rises abruptly, from the surface of the sea. It is cut perpendicularly on one side, inaccessible in two-thirds of its circumference, and terminates, towards the south, in a low beach which it commands, and which is edged with large stones, against which the sea dashes violently. This beach, which is the prolongation of the base of the rock, bends in an arch, and forms a recess, where people land as they can. At the extremity of this beach is a battery of two or three guns; on the beach of the landing-place, is an epaulement, with embrasures which commands it. The town stands on this sand bank, and a little fort, built on the ridge of the rock, commands and defends it. In its present state, Goree could not resist a ship of the line. Its road, which is only an anchoring place in the open sea, is safe in the most stormy weather; but it is exposed to all winds except those that blow from the island, which then serves to shelter it.
The Europeans who desire to carry on the slave trade, have preferred this arid rock, placed in the middle of a raging sea, to the neighbouring continent, where they would find water, wood, vegetables, and in short, the necessaries of life. The same reason which has caused the preference to be given to a narrow and barren sand bank, in the middle of the Senegal to build St. Louis, has also decided in favor of Goree: it is, that both of them are but dens, or prisons, intended as a temporary confinement for wretches who, in any other situation, would find means to escape. To deal in men, nothing is wanting but fetters and jails, but as this kind of gain no longer exists, if it is wished to derive other productions from these possessions, and not to lose them entirely, it will be necessary to change the nature of our speculations, and to direct our views and our efforts to the continent, where industry and agriculture promise riches, the production of which humanity will applaud.
The point which seems most proper for an agricultural establishment, is Cape Belair, a league and a half to the leward of Goree: its soil is a rich black mould, lying on a bed of Lava, which seems to come from the Mamelles. It is there that other large vegetables, besides the Baobabs, begin to be more numerous, and which, farther on, towards Cape Rouge, cover, like a forest, all the shores. The wells of Ben, which supply Goree with water, are but a short distance from it, and the lake of Tinguage, begins in the neighbourhood. This lake, which is formed, in a great measure, by the rain water of the Peninsula, contains a brackish water, which it is easy to render potable; it is inhabited by the Guésiks, or Guia-Sicks of the Yoloffes, or Black Crocodiles of Senegal; but it would be easy to destroy these animals. In September, this lake seems wholly covered with white nymphaea, or water-lilly, and in winter time it is frequented by a multitude of waterfowl, among which, are distinguished by their large size, die great pelican, the fine crested crane, which has received the name of the royal-bird, the gigantic heron, known in Senegambia by the venerable name of Marabou, on account of its bald head, with a few scattered white hairs, its lofty stature, and its dignified gait.