My emotion on leaving France under such circumstances will be readily understood. My old aide de-camp Hernoux, and Bruat, escorted me outside the entrance to the port, and returned in the pilot's boat. The last link with the soil of the mother-country was broken, Forward then, my boy!
In a few days we were before Cadiz, that lovely Andalusian city. An African sun had come to heighten its beauty, and it looked like some exquisite carving in the whitest marble, rising fairylike out of a sapphire sea. My landing in the evening was just as full of charm. I hurried to the Alameda, the public promenade, where the silence was unbroken, save by the plash of the waves breaking at the foot of the ramparts, or the whisper of the breeze amongst the palm-trees. I caught sight of mysterious couples sitting in the shadows of the alamos, black dresses and mantillas blending with the men's "capas," and from these formless groups a stifled murmur rose, with the noise of fans, like the beating wings of an imprisoned bird. I wandered through the streets and the Plazo Santo Antonio. I saw delightful balconies and glistening eyes that shone behind the lattices; exquisite forms glided over the white flags on which the moonlight fell. I saw, in fine, a city, a whole population, instinct with the breath of love, and I caught the complaint myself. I dreamt of scaling balconies, and of kisses and tender words, jealous rivals draped in black cloaks, and knife-thrusts at street corners under the lamps, and all the struggle and danger and triumph without which life is not life at all.
There happened to be a bull-fight, during our short stay in this port, at the Puerto de Santa Maria—one of those bull-fights celebrated in that famous song that every Spaniard hums even nowadays, "Los Toros del Puerto." I took good care not to miss it, and I will take still better care not to describe it, although the chief "espada" was Chiclanero, the handsomest of all those handsome fellows, and the one who was said to have roused the most violently passionate fondness in the fair sex. Fifty years ago there were no railroads in Andalusia, nor carriages either. Majos and Majas (Goya's Majos and Majas still existed in those days) arrived on horseback from all quarters under the burning September sun, and no words of mine can give any idea of the motley crowd in the most brilliant costumes, the perfect orgie of colour presented by the neighbourhood of the plaza, on which, as a finishing touch to the quaintness of the scene, a squadron of yellow dragoons did duty as police! From Cadiz we sailed in company with the frigates La Gloire and La Medee and two steam corvettes which we had found there, and reached Cape Saint Antonio, the most westerly point of Cuba, after a thirty-six days' passage. Once there, the admiral took all the water and provisions out of the Gloire and the Creole, and sent us to revictual at Havana, while he went on his way to Mexico and Vera Cruz. With my habitual extreme indifference to politics (having, in fact, always hated them), I have forgotten to say WHY we were going to Mexico. It was the eternal old story. Demands timidly made and then spurned, insufficient force for action merely increasing the insolence of our opponents, and then the necessity for sending a large and expensive expedition to finish up with. A score of war-vessels, including four frigates and two bomb-vessels, were soon to be collected before Vera Cruz, with a certain number of troops to be landed, and to deal authoritatively with the Mexican Government. Meanwhile we were to go, Captain Laine and I, to Havana, to lay in provisions, take everything we could to the squadron on board, and also, so the admiral had told me confidentially, I was to endeavour personally to get together all the plans and information possible concerning the towns on the Mexican coast and the fort of Saint Juan d'Ulloa, which had all once been Spanish. Nothing could have suited me better than this run to Havana, where we anchored four days later, and of which place I had carried away such pleasant memories seven months before. And as soon as I had paid and returned my official visits, I hurried to the Tacon Theatre, where, in a stage box that I knew right well, I beheld the charming woman who had begun my education as a smoker so prettily during my first visit.
We got the worst of news from Mexico. While Admiral Baudin was hurrying thither by forced marches, as it were, the ships that had got there before us had well-nigh raised the blockade. The frigate Herminie had started for France, which she never was to reach. She was wrecked at the Bermudas. The Iphigenie, which Captain de Parseval still commanded had been obliged to depart too, with nothing but a remnant of her crew, the yellow fever, which was then raging, having made terrible ravages on board. I heard of the death of many a good friend. Captain de Parseval had only one officer left (Kerjegu, who in later days was my colleague in the National Assembly) and one cadet, to help him to get his frigate away. There had been a tempest too, which had done a great deal of damage to our cruisers. I saw two come in, the Eclipse, Commander Jame de Bellecroix, and the Laurier, Captain Duquesne, which had been dismasted in the gale, and which had rigged up temporary spars, by means of which they had contrived to crawl into port. All the sails of the Laurier had been carried away, and she was quite helpless in the storm, so her captain, Duquesne, and his second officer, Mazeres, lashed themselves on deck, after having sent the crew below. The violence of the wind laid the ship so completely over on her beam ends that Lieutenant Mazeres, who was carried overboard by a wave, caught hold of the maintop and managed to get back on deck. A moment later the two masts of the brig were broken by the fury of the sea, and thus she regained her balance and was saved.
Leaving all these cripples to patch themselves up as best they could, Captain Laine set sail with his frigate and gave me orders to follow. We reached Sacrificios, the nearest anchorage to Vera Cruz, after a rapid passage. Here we learnt that the captain of the Medee, M. Leray, had been sent on a mission to Mexico. Then the admiral himself went off to Xalapa, to confer with the Mexican ministers. Meanwhile the blockade went on, enlivened by privations of every kind, short rations of water, yellow fever, and so forth. Our water was brought from Havana; it came in barrels, and was frequently black and nauseous when it came out of them. Yellow fever stalked abroad. I lingered one night, fishing over the side of the ship, until eleven o'clock, with a strong, healthy, first-class cadet, who had been under me in the watch on board the Didon. A foreboding of some sort seemed to weigh on his mind. I tried to cheer him up, but all in vain. By six o'clock next morning the terrible "vomito" had carried him off. Poor Gouin! I was very fond of him. We buried him on the Sacrificios islet, that gloomy cemetery which later on the Zouaves christened the "Jardin d'Acclimatation."
But little happened to vary the monotony of those weeks of waiting. I had gone in my boat one day to take soundings in shore, along the coast stretching from Vera Cruz to Anton Lizardo, when I saw a squadron of Mexican Lancers in their great white hats, looking like a squadron of picadors from a bull-ring, come galloping over the sand-hills. It was more than likely these gentry might fire their carbines at us, and we had no arms to reply with. So I bethought me of an expedient, which turned out quite successful. Instead of retiring as fast as we could row, I ordered my crew to lie motionless on their oars, while with the help of two men I made as though I were carefully preparing, loading, and laying a heavy gun, which was nothing more than a large-sized telescope with which I happened to be provided. The effect was electric. We saw the Mexican squadron make off full tear in every direction, to the delight of my crew. One night we had another adventure. The admiral sent me, with Messrs. Desfosses and Doret, and two engineer officers, Commandant Mangin-Lecreux and Captain Chauchard, to make rather an odd sort of reconnaissance. To understand its nature, my readers must know that the fort of Saint Juan d'Ulloa is set on a great reef, separated from Vera Cruz by a narrow arm of the sea. On the edge of the reef looking towards the town, the walls of the fort, into which huge iron rings for mooring big ships are built, go perpendicularly down into the sea. On the opposite side the glacis runs into a sort of large lake formed by two arms of the reef, level with the surface of the sea. The admiral wanted to know whether the bed of this lake was level, whether it was fordable, and whether, in case of necessity, the glacis and the walls of the fort could be reached from it, after they had been gutted by the big guns.
We started, then, one fine night, reached the belt of reef far away from the fort, landed, and walking through the water, which was half way up to our thighs at the start, we bent our course towards the fort, taking soundings before us, as we went, with long sticks. We found much the same depth everywhere, and a sandy bed covered with short seaweed. The sea had doubtless cast all the sand by degrees over the coral reef, and the currents had levelled it. After a long and tiring march through the water, during which we had to stop and take breath every now and again, whispering to each other, like Raffet's engraving of a similar reconnaissance, "Smoking is forbidden, but you can sit down if you like," we had got quite close to the glacis when we heard a shout of "Alerta!" from the sentries. Commandant Mangin, who was determined to touch the glacis with his hand, was a few steps ahead of us. Suddenly a noise arose within the fort, and in the twinkling of an eye we saw about fifty soldiers appear on the crest of the glacis, with their musket barrels glancing. They rushed down at full speed and sprang into the water after us. We of course made off as fast as ever we could. For some minutes it was a downright trial of speed, and Commandant Mangin was all but caught. But though hostilities were imminent, they had not yet actually begun. So the soldiers did not fire, and they soon tired of pursuing us. We got back without any difficulty, except that great fishes, whose every movement was visible in the phosphorescent water, would rush between our legs. Sharks, perhaps! There were numbers of them in those parts.
The admiral had learnt what he wanted to know. A few days more and the ball opened. The admiral brought the three frigates, Nereide, Gloire, and Iphigenie (this last came back from Havana with her crew completed by that of Duquesne's brig), and the two bomb-vessels, broadside on, and attacked the fort. I had asked leave to share in the fun, and, to my great grief, he had refused it. He considered my ship too small and insignificant. "I can't possibly take you. I have put the frigate Medee aside too, for I don't consider her guns heavy enough." He sent me to watch the firing of the bomb-vessels, and rectify it if necessary.
Before the firing began an incident occurred in which I was directly concerned. As the attack appeared imminent, the ships anchored or moored close to the fort hastened away, and they all passed close to the point where I was posted. At that moment the admiral signalled to me, "Ship in sight looks suspicious; stop her" Ambiguous as our signalling code is, this order seemed evidently to point to seizing one or several of the vessels just leaving the port. Of these there were four, to wit, a Belgian ship, chartered by the admiral to take off the French subjects resident at Vera Cruz if they should be threatened. It could not be that one. Then there was an American vessel, a quasi warship, flying a pennant and armed, what is called a revenue schooner. Thirdly, the British steam-packet Express, also armed and flying a pennant, commanded by a lieutenant in the British Navy, and borne on the Navy List as a ship of war. It could be neither of these two, to my thinking. There only remained a Hamburg vessel, which I ordered to go and anchor under the guns of the corvette Naiade. But at this instant a lieutenant in one of the Nereide's boats came to me and shouted, "The admiral desires you will take the Mexican pilots off all ships going out of port."
"Off the English packet too?" I inquired.