De Petit Thouars to The Captain, March 10, 1868
Mr. Petit Thouars to the captain commanding ad interim the squadron in the China Seas.
Sir: The four wounded who survived the murder of Sakai being convalescent to-day, I questioned them more particularly, and I have collected information, which enables me more correctly to represent the facts in that case; the quartermaster, Durel, from whom I obtained most of my previous information, only knew from hearsay what had taken place in the boat, because he only got into it again after the departure of the Japanese, who must have thought that all had been killed.
Not only were the people of Sakai free from ill feeling, but they were so good natured that more than once fruit and cakes had been brought to our sailors; those men, therefore, were without the slightest mistrust in the launch and on the wharf, joking with the Japanese, by whom they were surrounded; when suddenly Quartermaster Lemeur, who had just come on shore with, Durel, came back running, saying: “Shove off, we are lost, the guards are coming;” then Midshipman Guillon, standing behind, ordered: “Cut the ropes—start the engine,” and at the same moment from sixty to seventy men, armed with carbines, followed by others carrying sticks and hooks, came down to the wharf, pushing back the crowd, which ran away frightened, and then began firing on the launch close by.
Lemeur and the fireman were killed at once; several men wounded dropped in the boat, others overboard, and those who had not been hit at the first fire, finding themselves so suddenly attacked, also jumped overboard on the other side, hoping in that manner to escape being butchered.
But as soon as a Japanese had fired his musket, he went under cover to reload, then fired again on those who, in the water or overboard, still gave signs of life, while others, armed with hooks, went along the wharf, seized the unfortunate men who were swimming, to knock their brains out. Mr. Guillon, first wounded in the hand, appears to have been shot in the head while he was swimming away; and the escape of the four survivors is owing to the two men, who, dangerously wounded at the first fire, fell senseless in the bottom of the boat, and to those others who managed to keep their heads above water without being perceived between the launch and a junk close by.
There, also, Quartermaster Durel, who could not swim, in a truly providential manner made his reappearance after he threw himself into the water. As for the seventh man, he was supposed to be dead, and left on the wharf, where he had been knocked down with hooks; but the people of Sakai, who returned as soon as the soldiers had left, still perceiving that his eyes were moving, made signs to him to get into the boat, which sufficiently proves that the people had nothing to do with this abominable crime.
When the firing ceased, Durel, seeing the soldiers go away, got into the boat again, hoping to find the engine in working order, and to take her away at once, but the steampipes were broken; then assisting the wounded to get aboard, and encouraging them by his example with those six men so seriously wounded that two of them died since and that two others still cause us the deepest anxiety, he succeeded in getting under way, to man two oars, and to reach the end of the jetties, when hoisting sail he made for the ship.
It is thus owing to the coolness, courage, and determination of this non-commissioned officer that the entire crew were not lost, and the launch itself saved, because the Japanese, as has been ascertained afterwards, only went away for a moment, for the purpose of fetching the necessary instruments to destroy the boat.
I have therefore to request, sir, that you will authorize me to recommend this noncommissioned officer for the cross of the Legion of Honor, as also the man Gomor, who, though wounded already, saved Durel by supporting him behind the boat, when half-drowned from being under water some seconds he had nearly fainted.
I would also request to recommend for the military medal those wounded who so bravely brought us back our boat; the spirit of those men is beyond praise; and the remembrance of what I have witnessed and heard in the boat, when I joined her towards half-pastseven in the evening, can never be forgotten. Not a sound—no complaint. Here is the captain; no one had hurt them—certainly not; we were all very quiet, hoping that the captain of the Venus may not have met those men. I jumped on board with the surgeon, ordering Mr. Paris to tow us on board with the whale-boat; a rope was to be fastened and the sail to be set, which had come down when I boarded. I told a man to do so: “Both of my arms are broken, sir.” To another man in the bottom of the boat: “Both of my legs are broken, sir.” This man had been shot through the body. With a third it was the foot; and so forth with the others. I repeat, Durel was the only able-bodied man left, and those six men, two of whom were dying, and two others, who are in the most dangerous condition, who assisted him in saving the boat.
I should also wish to recommend Mr. Ensign Paris for the cross of the Legion of Honor. This officer, who hastened to come up as soon as he heard the first shots fired, and reached in sight of the launch to see the last man fall, being unarmed, he remained ready to pick up those who might still be alive, and he did not leave to report to me what had taken place until signs of life were no longer visible, when the man with the lead had been hit twice, and the whale-boat received several bullets.
I have the honor to be, sir, your obedient servant,
The Captain commanding ad interim the squadron in the China Seas, Venus.