flag flying upon the raft. The confidence of those unfortunate persons
was so great, that when they saw the first boat which had the tow
removing from them, they all cried out the rope is broken! the rope is
broken! but when no attention was paid to their observation, they
instantly perceived the treachery of the wretches who had left them so
basely.--Then the cries of Vive le Roi arose from the raft, as if the
poor fellows were calling to their father for assistance; or, as if
they had been persuaded that, at that rallying word, the officers of
the boats would return, and not abandon their countrymen. The officers
repeated the cry of Vive le Roi, without a doubt, to insult them; but,
more particularly, M. Lachaumareys who, assuming a martial attitude,
waved his hat in the air. Alas! what availed these false professions?
Frenchmen, menaced with the greatest peril, were demanding assistance
with the cries of Vive le Roi; yet none were found sufficiently
generous nor sufficiently French, to go to aid them. After a silence
of some minutes, horrible cries were heard; the air resounded with the
groans, the lamentations, the imprecations of these wretched beings,
and the echo of the sea frequently repeated, alas! how cruel you are
to abandon us!!! The raft already appeared to be buried under the
waves, and its unfortunate passengers immersed. The fatal machine was
drifted by currents far behind the wreck of the frigate; without
cable, anchor, mast, sail or oars; in a word, without the smallest
means of enabling them to save themselves. Each wave that struck it,
made them stumble in heaps on one another.--Their feet getting
entangled among the cordage, and between the planks, bereaved them of
the faculty of moving. Maddened by these misfortunes, suspended, and
adrift upon a merciless ocean, they were soon tortured between the
pieces of wood which formed the scaffold on which they floated.--The
bones of their feet and their legs were bruised and broken, every time
the fury of the waves agitated the raft; their flesh covered with
contusions and hideous wounds, dissolved, as it were, in the briny
waves, while the roaring flood around them was colored with their
blood.
As the raft, when it was abandoned, was nearly two leagues from the
frigate, it was impossible these unfortunate persons could return to
it; they were soon after far out to sea. These victims still appeared
above their floating tomb; and, stretching out their supplicating
hands towards the boats which fled from them, seemed yet to invoke,
for the last time, the names of the wretches who had deceived them. O
horrid day! a day of shame and reproach! Alas! that the hearts of
those who were so well acquainted with misfortune, should have been so
inaccessible to pity.
After witnessing that most inhuman scene, and seeing they were
insensible to the cries and lamentations of so many unhappy beings, I
felt my heart bursting with sorrow. It seemed to me that the waves
would overwhelm all these wretches, and I could not suppress my tears.
My father, exasperated to excess, and bursting with rage at seeing so
much cowardice and inhumanity among the officers of the boats, began
to regret he had not accepted the place which had been assigned for us
upon the fatal raft. 'At least,' said he, 'we would have died with the
brave, or would have returned to the wreck of the Medusa; and not have
had the disgrace of saving ourselves with cowards.' Although this
produced no effect upon the officers, it proved very fatal to us
afterwards; for, on our arrival at Senegal, it was reported to the
Governor, and very probably was the principal cause of all those evils
and vexations which we endured in that colony.
Let us now turn our attention to the several situations of all those
who were endeavoring to save themselves in the different boats, as
well as to those left upon the wreck of the Medusa.
We have already seen, that the frigate was half sunk when it was
deserted, presenting nothing but a hulk and wreck.--Nevertheless,
seventeen still remained upon it, and had food, which, although
damaged, enabled them to support themselves for a considerable time;
while the raft was abandoned to float at the mercy of the waves, upon
the vast surface of the ocean. One hundred and fifty wretches were
embarked upon it, sunk to the depth of at least three feet on its fore
part, and on its poop immersed even to the middle. What victuals they
had were soon consumed, or spoiled by the salt water; and perhaps
some, as the waves hurried them along, became food for the monsters of
the deep. Two only of all the boats which left the Medusa, and these
with very few people in them, were provisioned with every necessary;
these struck off with security and despatch. But the condition of
those who were in the shallop was but little better than those upon
the raft; their great number, their scarcity of provisions, their
great distance from the shore, gave them the most melancholy
anticipations of the future. Their worthy commander, M. Espiau, had no
other hope but of reaching the shore as soon as possible. The other
boats were less filled with people, but they were scarcely better
provisioned; and as by a species of fatality, the pinnace, in which
were our family, was destitute of everything. Our provisions consisted
of a barrel of biscuit, and a tierce of water; and, to add to our
misfortune, the biscuit being soaked in the sea, it was almost
impossible to swallow one morsel of it. Each passenger in our boat was
obliged to sustain his wretched existence with a glass of water, which
he could get only once a day. To tell how this happened, how this
boat was so poorly supplied, while there was abundance left upon the
Medusa, is far beyond my power. But it is at least certain, that the
greater part of the officers commanding the boats, the shallop, the
pinnace, the Senegal boat, and the yawl, were persuaded, when they
quitted the frigate, that they would not abandon the raft, but that
all the expedition would sail together to the coast of Sahara; that
when there, the boats would be again sent to the Medusa to take
provisions, arms, and those who were left there; but it appears the
chiefs had decided otherwise.
After abandoning the raft, although scattered, all the boats formed a
little fleet, and followed the same route. All who were sincere hoped
to arrive the same day at the coast of the Desert, and that every one
would get on shore; but MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys gave orders to
take the route for Senegal. This sudden change in the resolutions of
the chiefs was like a thunderbolt to the officers commanding the
boats. Having nothing on board but what was barely necessary to enable
us to allay the cravings of hunger for one day, we were all sensibly
affected. The other boats, which, like ourselves, hoped to have got on
shore at the nearest point, were a little better provisioned than we
were; they had at least a little wine, which supplied the place of
other necessaries. We then demanded some from them, explaining our
situation, but none would assist us, not even the captain, who,
drinking to a kept mistress, supported by two sailors, swore he had
not one drop on board. We were next desirous of addressing the boat of
the Governor of Senegal, where we were persuaded were plenty of
provisions of every kind, such as oranges, biscuit, cakes, comfits,
plums and even the finest liquors; but my father opposed it, so well
was he assured we would not obtain anything.
We will now turn to the condition of those on the raft, when the boats
left them to themselves.
If all the boats had continued dragging the raft forward, favored as
we were by the breeze from the sea, we would have been able to have
conducted them to the shore in less than two days. But an
inconceivable fatality caused the generous plan to be abandoned which
had been formed.
When the raft had lost sight of the boats, a spirit of sedition began
to manifest itself in furious cries. They then began to regard one
another with ferocious looks, and to thirst for one another's flesh.
Some one had already whispered of having recourse to that monstrous
extremity, and of commencing with the fattest and youngest. A
proposition so atrocious filled the brave Captain Dupont and his
worthy Lieutenant M. L'Heureux with horror; and that courage which had
so often supported them in the field of glory, now forsook them.
Among the first who fell under the hatchets of the assassins, was a
young woman who had been seen devouring the body of her husband. When
her turn was come, she sought a little wine as a last favor, then
rose, and without uttering a word threw herself into the sea. Captain
Dupont, being prescribed for having refused to partake of the
sacrilegious viands with which the monsters were feeding on, was saved
by a miracle from the hands of the butchers. Scarcely had they seized
him to lead him to the slaughter, when a large pole, which served in
place of a mast, fell upon his body; and believing that his legs were
broken, they contented themselves by throwing him into the sea. The
unfortunate captain plunged and disappeared, and they thought him
already in another world.
Providence, however, revived the strength of the unfortunate warrior.
He emerged under the beams of the raft, and clinging with all his
might, holding his head above water, he remained between two enormous
pieces of wood, while the rest of his body was hid in the sea. After
more than two hours of suffering, Captain Dupont spoke in a low voice
to his lieutenant, who by chance was seated near the place of his
concealment. The brave L'Heureux, with eyes glistening with tears,
believed he heard the voice, and saw the shade of his captain; and
trembling, was about to quit the place of horror; O wonderful! he saw
a head which seemed to draw its last sigh, he recognized it, he
embraced it, alas! it was his dear friend! Dupont was instantly drawn
from the water, and L'Heureux obtained for his unfortunate comrade
again a place upon the raft. Those who had been most inveterate
against him, touched at what Providence had done for him in so
miraculous a manner, decided with one accord to allow him entire
liberty upon the raft.
The sixty unfortunates who had escaped from the first massacre, were
soon reduced to fifty, then to forty, and at last to twenty-eight. The
least murmur, or the smallest complaint, at the moment of distributing
the provisions, was a crime punished with immediate death. In
consequence of such a regulation, it may easily be presumed the raft
was soon lightened. In the meanwhile the wine diminished sensibly, and
the half-rations very much displeased a certain chief of the
conspiracy. On purpose to avoid being reduced to that extremity, the
executive power decided it was much wiser to drown thirteen people,
and to get full rations, than that twenty-eight should have half
rations.
Merciful Heaven! what shame! After the last catastrophe, the chiefs of
the conspiracy, fearing, doubtless of being assassinated in their
turn, threw all the arms into the sea, and swore an inviolable
friendship with the heroes which the hatchet had spared. On the 17th
of July, in the morning, Captain Parnajon, commandant of the Argus
brig, still found fifteen men on the raft. They were immediately taken
on board, and conducted to Senegal. Four of the fifteen are yet alive,
viz. Captain Dupont, residing in the neighborhood of Maintenon,
Lieutenant L'Heureux, since Captain at Senegal, Savigny, at Rochefort,
and Correard, I know not where.
On the 5th of July, at ten in the morning, one hour after abandoning
the raft, and three after quitting the Medusa, M. Laperere, the
officer of our boat, made the first distribution of provisions. Each
passenger had a small glass of water and nearly the fourth of a
biscuit. Each drank his allowance of water at one draught, but it was
found impossible to swallow one morsel of our biscuit, it being so
impregnated with sea-water. It happened, however, that some was found
not quite so saturated. Of these we eat a small portion, and put back
the remainder for a future day. Our voyage would have been
sufficiently agreeable, if the beams of the sun had not been so
fierce. On the evening we perceived the shores of the Desert; but as
the two chiefs (MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys) wished to go right for
Senegal, notwithstanding we were still one hundred leagues from it, we
were not allowed to land. Several officers remonstrated, both on
account of our want of provisions and the crowded condition of the
boats, for undertaking so dangerous a voyage. Others urged with equal
force, that it would be dishonoring the French name if we were to
neglect the unfortunate people on the raft, and insisted we should be
set on shore, and whilst we waited there, three boats should return to
look after the raft, and three to the wreck of the frigate, to take up
the seventeen who were left there, as well as a sufficient quantity of
provisions to enable us to go to Senegal by the way of Barbary. But
MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys whose boats were sufficiently well
provisioned, scouted the advice or their subalterns, and ordered them
to cast anchor till the following morning. They were obliged to obey
these orders, and to relinquish their designs. During the night, a
certain passenger who was doubtless no doctor, and who believed in
ghosts and witches, was suddenly frightened by the appearance of
flames, which he thought he saw in the waters of the sea, a little way
from where our boat was anchored. My father, and some others, who were
aware that the sea is sometimes phosphorated, confirmed the poor
credulous man in his belief, and added several circumstances which
fairly turned his brain. They persuaded him the Arabic sorcerers had
fired the sea to prevent us from travelling along their deserts.
On the morning of the 6th of July, at five o'clock, all the boats were
under way on the route to Senegal. The boats of MM. Schmaltz and
Lachaumareys took the lead along the coast, and all the expedition
followed. About eight, several sailors in our boat, with threats,
demanded to be set on shore; but M. Laperere, not acceding to their
request, the whole were about to revolt and seize the command; but the
firmness of this officer quelled the mutineers. In a spring which he
made to seize a firelock which a sailor persisted in keeping in his
possession, he almost tumbled into the sea. My father fortunately was
near him, and held him by his clothes, but he had instantly to quit
him, for fear of losing his hat, which the waves were floating away. A
short while after this slight accident, the shallop, which we had lost
sight of since the morning, appeared desirous of rejoining us. We
plied all hands to avoid her, for we were afraid of one another, and
thought that that boat, encumbered with so many people, wished to
board us to oblige us to take some of its passengers, as M. Espiau
would not suffer them to be abandoned like those upon the raft. That
officer hailed us at a distance, offering to take our family on board,
adding, he was anxious to take about sixty people to the Desert. The
officer of our boat, thinking that this was a pretence, replied, we
preferred suffering where we were. It even appeared to us that
M. Espiau had hid some of his people under the benches of the shallop.
But alas; in the end we deeply deplored being so suspicious, and of
having so outraged the devotion of the most generous officer of the
Medusa.
Our boat began to leak considerably, but we prevented it as well as we
could, by stuffing the largest holes with oakum, which an old sailor
had had the precaution to take before quitting the frigate. At noon
the heat became so strong--so intolerable, that several of us believed
we had reached our last moments. The hot winds of the Desert even
reached us; and the fine sand with which they were loaded, had
completely obscured the clearness of the atmosphere. The sun presented
a reddish disk; the whole surface of the ocean became nebulous, and
the air which we breathed, depositing a fine sand, an impalpable
powder, penetrated to our lungs, already parched with a burning
thirst. In this state of torment we remained till four in the
afternoon, when a breeze from the northwest brought us some relief.
Notwithstanding the privations we felt, and especially the burning
thirst which had become intolerable, the cool air which we now began
to breathe, made us in part forget our sufferings. The heavens began
again to resume the usual serenity of those latitudes, and we hoped to
have passed a good night. A second distribution of provisions was
made; each received a small glass of water, and the eighth part of a
biscuit. Notwithstanding our meagre fare, every one seemed content, in
the persuasion we would reach Senegal by the morrow. But how vain were
all our hopes, and what sufferings had we yet to endure!
At half past seven, the sky was covered with stormy clouds. The
serenity we had admired a little while before, entirely disappeared,
and gave place to the most gloomy obscurity. The surface of the ocean
presented all the signs of a coming tempest. The horizon on the side
of the Desert had the appearance of a long hideous chain of mountains
piled on one another, the summits of which seemed to vomit fire and
smoke. Bluish clouds, streaked with a dark copper color, detached
themselves from that shapeless heap, and came and joined with those
which floated over our heads. In less than half an hour the ocean
seemed confounded with the terrible sky which canopied us. The stars
were hid. Suddenly a frightful noise was heard from the west, and all
the waves of the sea rushed to founder our frail bark. A fearful
silence succeeded to the general consternation. Every tongue was mute;
and none durst communicate to his neighbor the horror with which his
mind was impressed. At intervals the cries of the children rent our
hearts. At that instant a weeping and agonized mother bared her breast
to her dying child, but it yielded nothing to appease the thirst of
the little innocent who pressed it in vain. O night of horrors! what
pen is capable to paint thy terrible picture! How describe the
agonizing fears of a father and mother, at the sight of their children
tossed about and expiring of hunger in a small boat, which the winds
and waves threatened to engulf at every instant! Having full before
our eyes the prospect of inevitable death, we gave ourselves up to our
unfortunate condition, and addressed our prayers to Heaven. The winds
growled with the utmost fury; the tempestuous waves arose exasperated.
In their terrific encounter a mountain of water was precipitated into
our boat, carrying away one of the sails, and the greater part of the
effects which the sailors had saved from the Medusa. Our bark was
nearly sunk; the females and the children lay rolling in its bottom,
drinking the waters of bitterness; and their cries, mixed with the
roaring of the waves and the furious north wind, increased the horrors
of the scene. My unfortunate father then experienced the most
excruciating agony of mind. The idea of the loss which the shipwreck
had occasioned to him, and the danger which still menaced all he held
dearest in the world, plunged him into a swoon. The tenderness of his
wife and children recovered him; but alas! his recovery was to still
more bitterly deplore the wretched situation of his family. He clasped
us to his bosom; he bathed us with his tears, and seemed as if he was
regarding us with his last looks of love.
Every soul in the boat was seized with the same perturbation, but it
manifested itself in different ways. One part of the sailors remained
motionless, in a bewildered state; the other cheered and encouraged
one another; the children, locked in the arms of their parents, wept
incessantly. Some demanded drink, vomiting the salt water which choked
them; others, in short, embraced as for the last time, intertwining
their arms, and vowing to die together.
In the meanwhile the sea became rougher and rougher. The whole surface
of the ocean seemed a vast plain furrowed with huge blackish waves
fringed with white foam. The thunder growled around us, and the
lightning discovered to our eyes all that our imagination could
conceive most horrible. Our boat, beset on all sides by the winds, and
at every instant tossed on the summit of mountains of water, was very
nearly sunk in spite of our every effort in baling it, when we
discovered a large hole in its poop. It was instantly stuffed with
everything we could find:--old clothes, sleeves of shirts, shreds of
coats, shawls, useless bonnets, everything was employed, and secured
us as far as it was possible. During the space of six hours, we rowed
suspended alternately between hope and fear, between life and death.
At last towards the middle of the night, Heaven, which had seen our
resignation, commanded the floods to be still. Instantly the sea
became less rough, the veil which covered the sky became less
obscure, the stars again shone out, and the tempest seemed to
withdraw. A general exclamation of joy and thankfulness issued at one
instant from every mouth. The winds calmed, and each of us sought a
little sleep, while our good and generous pilot steered our boat on a
still very stormy sea.
The day at last, the day so desired, entirely restored the calm; but
it brought no other consolation. During the night, the currents, the
waves, and the winds had taken us so far out to sea, that, on the
dawning of the 7th of July, we saw nothing but sky and water, without
knowing whither to direct our course; for our compass had been broken
during the tempest. In this hopeless condition, we continued to steer
sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left, until the sun arose,
and at last showed us the east.
On the morning of the 7th of July, we again saw the shores of the
Desert, notwithstanding we were a great distance from it. The sailors
renewed their murmurings, wishing to get on shore, with the hope of
being able to get some wholesome plants, and some more palatable water
than that of the sea; but as we were afraid of the Moors, their
request was opposed. However, M. Laperere proposed to take them as
near as he could to the first breakers on the coast; and when there,
those who wished to go on shore should throw themselves into the sea,
and swim to land. Eleven accepted the proposal; but when we had
reached the first waves, none had the courage to brave the mountains
of water which rolled between them and the beach. Our sailors then
betook themselves to their benches and oars, and promised to be more
quiet for the future. A short while after, a third distribution was
made since our departure from the Medusa; and nothing more remained
than four pints of water, and one half dozen biscuits. What steps were
we to take in this cruel situation? We were desirous of going on
shore, but we had such dangers to encounter. However we soon came to a
decision, when we saw a caravan of Moors on the coast. We then stood a
little out to sea. According to the calculation of our commanding
officer, we would arrive at Senegal on the morrow. Deceived by that
false account, we preferred suffering one day more, rather than be
taken by the Moors of the Desert, or perish among the breakers. We had
now no more than a small half glass of water, and the seventh of a
biscuit.
Exposed as we were to the heat of the sun, which darted its rays
perpendicularly on our heads, that ration, though small would have
been a great relief to us; but the distribution was delayed to the
morrow. We were then obliged to drink the bitter sea water, ill as it
was calculated to quench our thirst. Must I tell it! thirst had so
withered the lungs of our sailors, that they drank water salter than
that of the sea. Our numbers diminished daily, and nothing but the
hope of arriving at the colony on the following day sustained our
frail existence. My young brothers and sisters wept incessantly for
water. The little Laura, aged six years lay dying at the feet of her
mother. Her mournful cries so moved the soul of my unfortunate father,
that he was on the eve of opening a vein to quench the thirst which
consumed his child; but a wise person opposed his design, observing
that all the blood in his body would not prolong the life of his
infant one moment.