I again applied to the Governor-general, begging him to send me a doctor, and if he could not get the Portuguese doctors to visit my house, to oblige me by sending his aide-de-camp on board the French steamer of war “Mahé Le Bourdonnais,” then in harbour, and ask the doctor of that vessel to visit the sick in my house. The Governor-general was obliged to ask the French doctor to visit us, for the Portuguese had made up their mind to let us all die. His Excellency also procured a dozen leeches for me, which were immediately applied to my wife’s throat, and had the desired effect of giving her immediate relief.
When the French doctor visited us, he found my wife propped up with pillows in bed, much relieved from the application of the leeches, and engaged in making the shroud of our departed friend, Mr. Duncan. This employment he of course forbade, and it was laid aside, but only to be renewed on his departure. Mr. Hilliard was in that state that it was very doubtful if he would recover, and Rosa he found had a low, nervous fever. Poor girl, she was struggling hard to help her mistress.
That night a coffin was sent over by the Governor-general, in answer to my application, and the next morning his Excellency sent a boat to convey the remains of Mr. Duncan to their last resting-place. Previous to their leaving, I had the coffin placed under a large tamarind tree in the court-yard of my house, and, spreading over it my consular flag as a pall, I read the beautiful service for the dead of the Church of England.
Rosa, at last worn out, had taken to her bed, unable to move; and my poor dog “Belle” was the only one to mourn with me over my friend.
Having thus performed the last sad Christian rites over the remains of the noble Duncan, and wrapped them in that flag which he loved so well, I had them conveyed to the boat for interment in a grave by the side of his countrymen, Captain Dacres, R.N., and Lieutenant Loch, R.N., which the Governor-general was so considerate as to attend to. I wrote to the survivors of his crew, and my German friend, to see him laid in his grave. The sail was hoisted, and I turned from the service of the dead to endeavour to save those who were between life and death.
Mr. Hilliard I found was quite sensible, and I made known to him that the French doctor had strongly urged his removal to the hospital, as the only chance of saving his life. I pointed out to him that even poor Rosa was at last ill, and that I had no one to assist me about the house. He asked for his friend Duncan, and I answered that “he was better now,” for he was too ill to be informed of his death.
Looking at me very earnestly, he asked me to grant him one favour—to allow him to remain in my house. I explained to him that I did not know the moment when the fever might attack myself, and then there would be no one to attend to his wants; and that he would perish from neglect; that his only chance of being saved was going to the hospital, where there were plenty of attendants.
To all this he replied by asking me in a tone and with an earnestness that I could not resist, “To let him die under his own flag?” Of course he remained in my house.
In a few days Rosa was herself again, but my wife was a long and patient sufferer.
The French vessel proceeded to sea; the day after, the good young doctor of her visited us, and I was then obliged to make an urgent official application to the Governor-general for medical assistance. Dr. Fonseca, the Surgeon Major, then visited the inmates of my house. For my wife he prescribed manna, and what he called cream of tartar, and finding this had not been taken on his second visit, he asked for a cup, in which he placed the manna, and sprinkled over it the cream of tartar, instructing me to fill the cup with warm water next morning, and, after mixing it well, to insist upon my wife taking it.