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For three weeks I lived with the Indian family without receiving any news from Manilla, when one morning, a letter came from the first mate who, on the death of the unfortunate Dibard, had taken the command of the Cultivateur telling me he was about to sail, and that I must go on board at once if I wished to leave a country which had been so fatal to all of us.
On the 9th October, 1819, I embarked on board the Cultivateur, an old half-rotten three-masted vessel, commanded by an equally old captain, who, long ashore, had given up navigating for many years. An old captain with an old ship! Such were the conditions in which I undertook this voyage. I ought, however, to add, that I obtained an increase of pay.
The latter, printed "Au Burcau de l'imprimerie, rue du Theatre-Francais, No. 4," is said to be by "Thomas Paine, Citoyen et cultivateur de l'Amerique septentrionale, secretaire du Congres du departement des affaires etrangeres pendant la guerre d'Amerique, et auteur des ouvrages intitules: LA SENS COMMUN et LES DROITS DE L'HOMME."
This is perhaps as impartial and judicious an account of the United States as any that has lately appeared. Lettres d'un Cultivateur Americain, 1770-86. Par M. St. John de Crevecoeur. Paris, 1787. 3 vols. 8vo. We give the French edition of this work in preference to the English, because it is much fuller.
When a French peasant becomes what in rustic phraseology is called a substantial man, owning or hiring a considerable extent of land, he ceases to be called 'paysan, and is designated 'cultivateur. The very word 'peasant, as I have shown elsewhere, will, in process of time, become a survival, so steady and sure is the social upheaval of rural France.
Poor Dibard, the captain of the Cultivateur, was one of the first victims. Almost all the French who resided at Manilla were slain, and their houses pillaged and destroyed. The carnage only ceased when there were no longer any victims. One eye-witness escaped this butchery, namely, M. Gautrin, a captain of the merchant service, who, at the moment I am writing, happens to be residing in Paris.
Il vous faudrait, dites-vous naivement, pour associe, un homme actif, exerce, connaissant bien les affaires, la culture, pour exploiter votre ferme et, plus heureux que Diogene, vous braquez votre lanterne sur un homme qui dans trois ans sera un quasi vieillard, deja valetudinaire aujourd'hui et sachant a peine distinguer le seigle du froment! Oh! l'admirable cultivateur modele que vous aurez la!
The next day I arrived at Manilla, still thinking of the cool shade of the palm and the perfumed flowers of the yang-yang. My first impulse was to go to the quay; but, alas! the Cultivateur had sailed, and I had the misery of beholding her already far away in the horizon, moving sluggishly before a gentle breeze towards the mouth of the bay.
In fact the crowd divided, and left me a free passage. I was saved, without knowing by whom, or for what reason, until the native soldier called after me: "You attended my wife who was sick, and you never asked payment of me. I now settle my debt." As Captain Drouant had doubtless gone off in the cutter, it was impossible for me to return on board the Cultivateur.
Fortunately, some soldiers happened to pass by at the time, who picked him up and carried him to a guard-house, where his wounds were quickly attended to. I myself was dodged about Cavite, but I contrived to escape, and to reach a pirogue, into which I jumped, and took refuge on board the Cultivateur.
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