pretty near to the shore, and though dying of famine, each got a
tranquil sleep. On the morning of the 8th of July, at break of day, we
took the route for Senegal. A short while after the wind fell, and we
had a dead calm.--We endeavored to row, but our strength was
exhausted. A fourth and last distribution was made, and in the
twinkling of an eye, our last resources were consumed. We were
forty-two people who had to feed upon six biscuits and about four
pints of water, with no hope of a farther supply. Then came the moment
for deciding whether we were to perish among the breakers, which
defended the approach to the shores of the Desert, or to die of famine
in continuing our route.--The majority preferred the last species of
misery. We continued our progress along the shore, painfully pulling
our oars. Upon the beach were distinguished several downs of white
sand and some small trees. We were thus creeping along the coast,
observing a mournful silence, when a sailor suddenly exclaimed, behold
the Moors! We did, in fact, see various individuals upon the rising
ground, walking at a quick pace, and whom we took to be the Arabs of
the Desert. As we were very near the shore, we stood farther out to
sea, fearing that these pretended Moors, or Arabs, would throw
themselves into the sea, swim out, and take us. Some hours after, we
observed several people upon an eminence, who seemed to make signals
for us.
We examined them attentively, and soon recognized them to be our
companions in misfortune. We replied to them by attaching a white
handkerchief to the top of our mast. Then we resolved to land at the
risk of perishing among the breakers, which were very strong towards
the shore, although the sea was calm. On approaching the beach, we
went towards the right, where the waves seemed less agitated, and
endeavored to reach it, with the hope of being able more easily to
land. Scarcely had we directed our course to that point, when we
perceived a great number of people standing near to a little wood
surrounding the sand-hills. We recognized them to be the passengers of
that boat, which, like ourselves, were deprived of provisions.
Meanwhile we approached the shore, and already the foaming surge
filled us with terror. Each wave that came from the open sea, each
billow that swept beneath our boat, made us bound into the air; so we
were sometimes thrown from the poop to the prow, and from the prow to
the poop. Then, if our pilot had missed the sea, we would have been
sunk; the waves would have thrown us aground, and we would have been
buried among the breakers. The helm of the boat was again given to the
old pilot, who had already so happily steered us through the dangers
of the storm. He instantly threw into the sea the mast, the sails, and
everything that could impede our proceedings. When we came to the
first landing point, several of our shipwrecked companions, who had
reached the shore, ran and hid themselves behind the hills, not to see
us perish; others made signs not to approach at that place, some
covered their eyes with their hands; others, at last despising the
danger, precipitated themselves into the waves to receive us in their
arms. We then saw a spectacle that made us shudder. We had already
doubled two ranges of breakers; but those which we had still to cross
raised their foaming waves to a prodigious height, then sunk with a
hollow and monstrous sound, sweeping along a long line of the
coast.--Our boat sometimes greatly elevated, and sometimes engulfed
between the waves, seemed, at the moment, of utter ruin. Bruised,
battered and tossed about on all hands, it turned of itself, and
refused to obey the kind hand which directed it.--At that instant a
huge wave rushed from the open sea, and dashed against the poop; the
boat plunged, disappeared, and we were all among the waves. Our
sailors, whose strength had returned at the presence of danger,
redoubled their efforts, uttering mournful sounds. Our bark groaned,
the oars were broken; it was thought aground, but it was stranded; it
was upon its side. The last sea rushed upon us with the impetuosity
of a torrent. We were all up to the neck in water; the bitter
sea-froth choked us. The grapnel was thrown out.--The sailors threw
themselves into the sea; they took the children in their arms;
returned, and took us upon their shoulders; and I found myself seated
upon the sand on the shore, by the side of my step-mother, my brothers
and sisters, almost dead. Every one was upon the beach except my
father and some sailors; but that good man arrived at last, to mingle
his tears with those of his family and friends.
Instantly our hearts joined in addressing our prayers and praises to
God. I raised my hands to heaven, and remained sometime immoveable
upon the beach. Every one also hastened to testify his gratitude to
our old pilot, who next to God, justly merited the title of our
preserver. M. Dumege, a naval surgeon, gave him an elegant gold watch,
the only thing he had saved from the Medusa.
Let the reader now recollect all the perils to which we had been
exposed in escaping from the wreck of the frigate to the shores of the
Desert--all that we had suffered during our four days' voyage--and he
will perhaps have a just notion of the various sensations we felt on
getting on shore on that strange and savage land. Doubtless the joy we
experienced at having escaped, as by a miracle, the fury of the
floods, was very great; but how much was it lessened by the feelings
of our horrible situation! Without water, provisions, and the majority
of us nearly naked, was it to be wondered at that we should be seized
with terror on thinking of the obstacles which we had to surmount, the
fatigues, the privations, the pains and sufferings we had to endure,
with the dangers we had to encounter in the immense and frightful
Desert we had to traverse before we could arrive at our destination?
Almighty Providence! it was in Thee alone I put my trust.
After we had a little recovered from the fainting and fatigue of our
getting on shore, our fellow-sufferers told us they had landed in the
forenoon, and cleared the breakers by the strength of their oars and
sails; but they had not all been so lucky as we were. One unfortunate
person, too desirous of getting quickly on shore, had his legs broken
under the shallop, and was taken and laid on the beach, and left to
the care of Providence. M. Espiau, commander of the shallop,
reproached us for having doubted him when he wished to board us to
take our family along with him. It was most true he had landed
sixty-three people that day. A short while after our refusal, he took
the passengers of the yawl, who would infallibly have perished in the
stormy nights of the 6th and 7th. The boat named the Senegal,
commanded by M. Maudet, had made the shore at the same time with
M. Espiau. The boats of MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys were the only
ones which continued the route for Senegal, while nine-tenths of the
Frenchmen intrusted to these gentlemen were butchering each other on
the raft, or dying of hunger on the burning sands of Sahara.
About seven in the morning, a caravan was formed to penetrate into the
interior, for the purpose of finding some fresh water. We did
accordingly find some at a little distance from the sea, by digging
among the sand. Every one instantly flocked round the little wells,
which furnished enough to quench our thirst. This brackish water was
found to be delicious, although it had a sulphurous taste: its color
was that of whey. As all our clothes were wet and in tatters, and as
we had nothing to change them, some generous officers offered theirs.
My step-mother, my cousin, and my sister, were dressed in them; for
myself, I preferred keeping my own. We remained nearly an hour beside
our beneficent fountain, then took the route for Senegal; that is, a
southerly direction, for we did not know exactly where that country
lay. It was agreed that the females and children should walk before
the caravan, that they might not be left behind. The sailors
voluntarily carried the youngest on their shoulders, and every one
took the route along the coast. Notwithstanding it was nearly seven
o'clock, the sand was quite burning, and we suffered severely, walking
without shoes, having lost them while landing. As soon as we arrived
on the shore, we went to walk on the wet sand, to cool us a little.
Thus we traveled during all the night, without encountering anything
but shells, which wounded our feet.
On the morning of the 9th, we saw an antelope on the top of a little
hill, which instantly disappeared, before we had time to shoot it. The
Desert seemed to our view one immense plain of sand, on which was seen
not one blade of verdure. However, we still found water by digging in
the sand. In the forenoon, two officers of marine complained that our
family incommoded the progress of the caravan. It is true, the females
and the children could not walk so quickly as the men. We walked as
fast as it was possible for us, nevertheless, we often fell behind,
which obliged them to halt till we came up. These officers, joined
with other individuals, considered among themselves whether they would
wait for us, or to abandon us in the Desert. I will be bold to say,
however, that but few were of the latter opinion. My father being
informed of what was plotting against us, stepped up to the chiefs of
the conspiracy, and reproached them in the bitterest terms for their
selfishness and brutality. The dispute waxed hot. Those who were
desirous of leaving us drew their swords, and my father put his hand
upon a poignard, with which he had provided himself on quitting the
frigate. At this scene, we threw ourselves in between them, conjuring
him rather to remain in the Desert with his family, than seek the
assistance of those who were, perhaps, less human than the Moors
themselves. Several people took our part, particularly M. Begnere,
captain of infantry, who quieted the dispute by saying to his
soldiers, 'My friends, you are Frenchmen, and I have the honor of
being your commander; let us never abandon an unfortunate family in
the Desert, so long as we are able to be of use to them.' This brief,
but energetic speech, caused those to blush who wished to leave us.
All then joined with the old captain saying they would not leave us on
condition we would walk quicker. M. Begnere and his soldiers replied,
they did not wish to impose conditions on those to whom they were
desirous of doing a favor; and the unfortunate family of Picard were
again on the road with the whole caravan.
About noon hunger was felt so powerfully among us, that it was agreed
upon to go to the small hills of sand which were near the coast, to
see if any herbs could be found fit for eating; but we only got
poisonous plants, among which were various kinds of euphorbium.
Convolvaluses of a bright green carpeted the downs; but on tasting
their leaves we found them as bitter as gall. The caravan rested in
this place, while several officers went farther into the interior.
They came back in about an hour, loaded with wild purslain, which they
distributed to each of us. Every one instantly devoured his bunch of
herbage, without leaving the smallest branch: but as our hunger was
far from being satisfied with this small allowance, the soldiers and
sailors betook themselves to look for more. They soon brought back a
sufficient quantity, which was equally distributed, and devoured upon
the spot, so delicious had hunger made that food to us. For myself, I
declare I never eat anything with so much appetite in all my life.
Water was also found in this place, but it was of an abominable taste.
After this truly frugal repast, we continued our route. The heat was
insupportable in the last degree. The sands on which we trod were
burning, nevertheless several of us walked on these scorching coals
without shoes; and the females had nothing but their hair for a cap.
When we reached the sea-shore, we all ran and lay down among the
waves. After remaining there some time, we took our route along the
wet beach. On our journey we met with several large crabs, which were
of considerable service to us. Every now and then we endeavored to
slake our thirst by sucking their crooked claws. About nine at night
we halted between two pretty high sand hills. After a short talk
concerning our misfortunes, all seemed desirous of passing the night
in this place, notwithstanding we heard on every side the roaring of
leopards. We deliberated on the means of securing ourselves, but sleep
soon put an end to our fears. Scarcely had we slumbered a few hours
when a terrible roaring of wild beasts awoke us, and made us stand on
our defence. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and in spite of my
fears and the horrible aspect of the place, nature never appeared so
sublime to me before. Instantly something was announced that resembled
a lion. This information was listened to with the greatest emotion.
Every one being desirous of verifying the truth, fixed upon something
he thought to be the object: one believed he saw the long teeth of the
king of the forest; another was convinced his mouth was already open
to devour us: several, armed with muskets, aimed at the animal, and
advancing a few steps, discovered the pretended lion to be nothing
more than a shrub fluctuating in the breeze. However, the howlings of
ferocious beasts had so frightened us, being yet heard at intervals
that we again sought the sea-shore, on purpose to continue our route
towards the south.
Some of our companions were desirous of making observations in the
interior, and they did not go in vain. They instantly returned, and
told us they had seen two Arab tents upon a slight rising ground. We
instantly directed our steps thither. We had to pass great downs of
sand very slippery, and arrived in a large plain streaked here and
there with verdure; but the turf was so hard and piercing, we could
scarcely walk over it without wounding our feet. Our presence in these
frightful solitudes put to flight three or four Moorish shepherds, who
herded a small flock of sheep and goats in an oasis. At last we
arrived at the tents after which we were searching, and found in them
three Mooresses and two little children, who did not seem in the least
frightened by our visit. A negro servant, belonging to an officer of
marine, interpreted between us; and the good women, who, when they had
heard of our misfortunes, offered us millet and water for payment. We
bought a little of that grain at the rate of thirty pence a handful;
the water was got for three francs a glass; it was very good, and none
grudged the money it cost. As a glass of water, with a handful of
millet, was but a poor dinner for famished people, my father bought
two kids, which they would not give him under twenty piastres. We
immediately killed them, and our Mooresses boiled them in a large
kettle. While our repast was preparing, my father, who could not
afford the whole of the expense, got others to contribute to it, but
an old officer of marine, who was to have been captain of the port of
Senegal, was the only person who refused, notwithstanding he had about
him nearly three thousand francs which he boasted of in the end.
Several soldiers and sailors had seen him count it in round pieces of
gold, on coming ashore on the Desert, and reproached him for his
sordid avarice; but he seemed insensible to their reproaches, nor eat
the less of his portion of the kid with his companions in misfortune.
When about to resume our journey, we saw several Moors approaching us
armed with lances. Our people instantly seized their arms, and put
themselves in readiness to defend us in case of an attack. Two
officers, followed by several soldiers and sailors, with our
interpreter, advanced to discover their intentions. They instantly
returned with the Moors, who said, that far from wishing to do us
harm, they had come to offer us their assistance, and to conduct us to
Senegal. This offer being accepted of with gratitude by all of us, the
Moors, of whom we had been so afraid, became our protectors and
friends, verifying the old proverb, there are good people everywhere!
As the camp of the Moors was at some considerable distance from where
we were, we set off altogether to reach it before night. After having
walked about two leagues through the burning sands, we found ourselves
again upon the shore. Towards night, our conductors made us strike
again into the interior, saying we were near their camp which is
called in their language Berkelet. But the short distance of the Moors
was found very long by the females and the children, on account of the
downs of sand which we had to ascend and descend every instant, also
of prickly shrubs over which we were frequently obliged to walk. Those
who were barefooted, felt most severely at this time the want of their
shoes. I myself lost among the bushes various shreds of my dress, and
my feet and legs were all streaming with blood. At length, after two
long hours of walking and suffering, we arrived at the camp of that
tribe to which belonged our Arab conductors. We had scarcely got into
the camp, when the dogs, the children, and the Moorish women, began to
annoy us. Some of them threw sand in our eyes, others amused
themselves by snatching at our hair, on pretence of wishing to examine
it. This pinched us, that spit upon us; the dogs bit our legs, whilst
the old harpies cut the buttons from the officers coats, or endeavored
to take away the lace. Our conductors, however, had pity on us, and
chased away the dogs and the curious crowd, who had already made us
suffer as much as the thorns which had torn our feet. The chiefs of
the camp, our guides, and some good women, at last set about getting
us some supper. Water in abundance was given us without payment, and
they sold us fish dried in the sun, and some bowlsful of sour milk, at
a reasonable price.
We found a Moor in the camp who had previously known my father at
Senegal, and who spoke a little French. As soon as he recognised him,
he cried, 'Tiens toi Picard! ni a pas conneitre moi Amet?' Hark ye,
Picard, know you not Amet? We were all struck with astonishment at
these French words coming from the mouth of a Moor. My father
recollected having employed long ago a young goldsmith at Senegal, and
discovering the Moor Amet to be the same person, shook him by the
hand. After that good fellow had been made acquainted with our
shipwreck, and to what extremities our unfortunate family had been
reduced, he could not refrain from tears; and this perhaps was the
first time a Mussulman had ever wept over the misfortunes of a
Christian. Amet was not satisfied with deploring our hard fate; he was
desirous of proving that he was generous and humane, and instantly
distributed among us a large quantity of milk and water free of any
charge. He also raised for our family a large tent of the skins of
camels, cattle and sheep, because his religion would not allow him to
lodge with Christians under the same roof. The place appeared very
dark, and the obscurity made us uneasy. Amet and our conductors
lighted a large fire to quiet us; and at last, bidding us good night,
and retiring to his tent, said, 'Sleep in peace; the God of the
Christians is also the God of the Mussulman.'
We had resolved to quit this truly hospitable place early in the
morning; but during the night, some people who had probably too much
money, imagined the Moors had taken us to their camp to plunder us.
They communicated their fears to others, and pretending that the
Moors, who walked up and down among their flocks, and cried from time
to time to keep away the ferocious beasts, had already given the
signal for pursuing and murdering us. Instantly a general panic seized
all our people, and they wished to set off forthwith. My father,
although he well knew the perfidy of the inhabitants of the Desert,
endeavored to assure them we had nothing to fear, because the Arabs
were too frightened for the people of Senegal, who would not fail to
avenge us if we were insulted; but nothing could quiet their
apprehensions, and we had to take the route during the middle of the
night. The Moors being soon acquainted with our fears, made us all
kinds of protestations; and seeing we persisted in quitting the camp,
offered us asses to carry us as far as the Senegal. These beasts of
burden were hired at the rate of 12 francs a day, for each head, and
we took our departure under the guidance of those Moors who had before
conducted us to the camp. Amet's wife being unwell, he could not
accompany us, but recommended us strongly to our guides. My father was
able to hire only two asses for the whole of our family; and as it was
numerous, my sister Caroline, my cousin, and myself, were obliged to
crawl along, whilst my unfortunate father followed in the suite of the
caravan, which in truth went much quicker than we did.
A short distance from the camp, the brave and compassionate Capt.
Begnere, seeing we still walked, obliged us to accept of the ass he
had hired for himself, saying he would not ride when young ladies
exhausted with fatigue, followed on foot. The King afterwards
honorably recompensed this worthy officer, who ceased not to regard
our unfortunate family with a care and attention I will never forget.
During the remainder of the night, we travelled in a manner
sufficiently agreeable, mounting alternately the ass of Captain
Begnere.
At five in the morning of the 11th of July we regained the sea-shore.
Our asses, fatigued with the long journey among the sand, ran
instantly and lay down among the breakers, in spite of our utmost
exertions to prevent them. This caused several of us to take a bath we
wished not; I was myself held under my ass in the water, and had great
difficulty in saving one of my young brothers who was floating away.
But, in the end as this incident had no unfortunate issue, we laughed,
and continued our route, some on foot and some on the capricious
asses. Towards ten o'clock, perceiving a ship out at sea, we attached
a white handkerchief to the muzzle of a gun, waiving it in the air,
and soon had the satisfaction of seeing it was noticed. The ship
having approached sufficiently near the coast, the Moors who were
with us threw themselves into the sea and swam to it. It must be said
we had very wrongfully supposed that these people had had a design
against us, for their devotion could not appear greater than when five
of them darted through the waves to endeavor to communicate between us
and the ship, notwithstanding it was still a good quarter of a league
distant from where we stood on the beach. In about half an hour we saw
these good Moors returning, making float before them three small
barrels. Arrived on shore, one of them gave a letter to M. Espiau from
M. Parnajon. This gentleman was the captain of the Argus brig, sent to
seek after the raft, and to give us provisions. This letter announced
a small barrel of biscuit, a tierce of wine, a half tierce of brandy,
and a Dutch cheese. O fortunate event! We were very desirous of
testifying our gratitude to the generous commander of the brig, but he
instantly set out and left us. We staved the barrels which held our
small stock of provisions, and made a distribution.--Each of us had a
biscuit, about a glass of wine, a half glass of brandy, and a small
morsel of cheese. Each drank his allowance of wine at one gulp; the
brandy was not even despised by the ladies. I however preferred
quantity to quality, and exchanged my ration of brandy for that of
wine. To describe our joy, while taking this repast, is impossible.
Exposed to the fierce rays of a vertical sun; exhausted by a long
train of suffering; deprived for a long while, the use of any kind of
spirituous liquors, when our portions of water, wine and brandy
mingled in our stomachs we became like insane people.
Life, which had lately been a great burden, now became precious to us.
Foreheads, lowering and sulky, began to unwrinkle; enemies became most
brotherly; the avaricious endeavored to forget their selfishness and
cupidity; the children smiled for the first time since our shipwreck;
in a word, every one seemed to be born again from a condition,
melancholy and dejected. I even believe the sailors sung the praises
of their mistresses.
This journey was the most fortunate for us. Some short while after our
delicious meal, we saw several Moors approaching, who brought milk and
butter, so that we had refreshments in abundance. It is true we paid a
little dear for them; the glass of milk cost not less than three
francs. After reposing about three hours, our caravan proceeded on its
route.