Let us here do justice to the courage of Mr. Clanet, pay-master of the

frigate, who was on board the governor's boat; if he had been listened to,

this tow-rope would not have been let go; every moment an officer who was

in the governor's boat cried out aloud, "_shall I let go?_" Mr. Clanet

opposed it, answering with firmness, "_No no_!" Some persons joined him,

but could obtain nothing, the tow-rope was let go: we considered it as

certain, that the commander of the other boats, on seeing the chief of the

expedition courageously devote himself, would have come and resumed their

posts: but it may be said that each individual boat was abandoned by all

the others: there was wanting, on this occasion, a man of great coolness:

and ought not this man to have been found among the chief officers? How

shall their conduct be justified? There are, certainly, some reasons to be

alledged. Impartial judges of events, we will describe them, not as unhappy

victims of the consequences of this desertion, but as men free from all

personal resentment, and who listen only to the voice of truth.

The raft, drawn by all the boats united, dragged them a little back; it is

true that we just had the ebb, and the currents set from shore. To be in

the open sea with undecked vessels, might well inspire some apprehensions:

but, in a few hours, the currents would change and favor us; we ought to

have waited for this moment, which would have infallibly demonstrated the

possibility of drawing us to the coast, which was not above twelve or

fifteen leagues distant: this is so true that the boats discovered the

coast, the same evening, before sunset. Perhaps they would have been forced

to forsake us the second night after our departure, if indeed more than

thirty-six hours had been required to tow us to land; for the weather was

very bad; but we should then have been very near to the coast, and it would

have been very easy to save us: at least we should have had only the

elements to accuse!--We are persuaded that a short time would have sufficed

to tow us within sight of land, for, the evening of our being deserted, the

raft was precisely in the direction which the boats had followed between

the frigates and the coast, and, at least, five leagues from the former.

The next morning, at daybreak, we could no longer see the Medusa.[A9]

At the first moment we did not really believe that we had been so cruelly

abandoned. We imagined that the boats had let loose, because they had

perceived a vessel, and hastened towards it to ask assistance. The

long-boat was pretty near us to leeward on the starboard. She lowered her

foresail half way down: her manoeuvre made us think that she was going to

take the first tow-rope: she remained so a moment, lowered her foresail

entirely, setup her main-mast, hoisted her sails, and followed the rest of

the division. Some men in this boat, seeing that the others deserted us,

threatened to fire upon them, but were stopped by Lieutenant Espiau. Many

persons have assured us that it was the intention of this officer to come

and take the tow-rope; but his crew opposed it; had he done so, he would

certainly have acted with great imprudence. His efforts would have been of

little use to us, and his devotedness would but have increased the number

of victims.[B6] As soon as this boat was gone, we had no doubt but that we

were abandoned; yet we were not fully convinced of it till the boats had

disappeared.

It was now that we had need of all our courage, which, however, forsook us

more than once: we really believed that we were sacrificed, and with one

accord, we cried that this desertion was premeditated. We all swore to

revenge ourselves if we had the good fortune to reach the shore, and there

is no doubt but that, if we could have overtaken, the next day, those who

had fled in the boats, an obstinate combat would have taken place between,

them and us.

It was then that some persons who had been marked out for the boats, deeply

regretted that they had preferred the raft, because duty and honor had

pointed out this post to them. We could mention some persons: for example,

Mr. Correard, among others, was to go in one of the boats; but twelve of

the workmen, whom we commanded, had been set down for the raft; he thought

that in his quality of commander of engineers, it was his duty not to

separate from the majority of those who had been confided to him, and who

had promised to follow him wherever the exigencies of the service might

require; from that moment his fate became inseparable from theirs, and he

exerted himself to the utmost to obtain the governor's permission to have

his men embarked in the same boat as himself; but seeing that he could

obtain nothing to ameliorate the fate of these brave men, he told the

governor that he was incapable of committing an act of baseness: that since

he would not put his workmen in the same boat with him, he begged him to

allow him to go on the raft with them, which was granted.

Several military officers imitated their example; only two of those who

were to command the troops did not think fit to place themselves upon the

raft, the equipment of which, in truth, could not inspire much confidence.

One of them, Captain Beinière, placed himself in the long-boat with 36 of

his soldiers. We had been told that these troops had been charged to

superintend the proceedings of the other boats, and to fire upon those who

should attempt to abandon the raft. It is true, as we have seen above, that

some brave soldiers listening, perhaps, more to the voice of humanity and

French honor, than to the strict maxims of discipline, were desirous of

employing their arms against those who basely abandoned us, but, that their

will and their actions were paralized by the passive obedience which they

owed to their officers, who opposed this resolution.

The other, Mr. Danglas, a lieutenant, who had lately left the

_gardes-du-corps_, had at first embarked with us upon the raft, where his

post was assigned him, but when he saw the danger which he incurred on this

unstable machine, he made haste to quit it, on the pretext that he had

forgotten something on board the frigate, and did not return. It was he

whom we saw, armed with a carbine, threaten to fire on the barge of the

governor, when it began to move from the frigate. This movement, and some

other actions which were taken for madness, nearly cost him his life; for

while he was thus giving himself up to a kind of extravagance, the captain

took flight, and abandoned him on board the frigate with the sixty-three

men whom he left there. When M. Danglas saw himself treated in this manner,

he gave marks of the most furious despair. They were obliged to hinder him

from attempting his own life. With loud cries he invoked death, which he

believed inevitable in the midst of perils so imminent. It is certain that

if Mr. Espiau, who had his long-boat already full, had not returned to take

from on board the frigate, the forty-six men, among whom, was Mr. Danglas,

he and all his companions would not, perhaps, have experienced a better

fate than the seventeen who were finally left on board the Medusa.

After the disappearance of the boats, the consternation was extreme: all

the terrors of thirst and famine arose before our imaginations, and we had

besides to contend with a perfidious element, which already covered the

half of our bodies: when recovered from their stupefaction, the sailors and

soldiers gave themselves up to despair; all saw inevitable destruction

before them, and gave vent in lamentations to the gloomy thoughts which

agitated them. All we said did not at first avail to calm their fears, in

which we however participated, but which a greater degree of strength of

mind enabled us to dissemble. At last, a firm countenance and consoling

words succeeded in calming them by degrees, but could not wholly dispel the

terror with which they were struck; for according to the judicious

reflection, made after reading our deplorable story, by Mr. Jay, whose

authority we quote with pleasure, "To support extreme misfortunes, and what

is worthy of remark, to bear great fatigues, moral energy is much more

necessary than corporeal strength, nay, than the habit of privations and

hard labour. On this narrow theatre where so many sufferings are united,

where the most cruel extremes of hunger and thirst are experienced, strong

and indefatigable men who have been brought up to the most laborious

professions, sink in succession under the weight of the common destiny,

while men of a weak constitution, and not inured to fatigue, find in their

minds the strength which their bodies want, endure with courage unheard-of

trials, and issue victorious from their struggle with the most horrible

afflictions. It is to the education they have received, to the exercise of

their intellectual faculties, that they owe this astonishing superiority

and their deliverance," When tranquillity was a little restored, we began

to look upon the raft for the charts, the compass and the anchor, which we

presumed had been placed there, from what had been said to us at the time

we quitted the frigate. These highly necessary articles had not been put

upon our machine. The want of a compass in particular, greatly alarmed us,

and we uttered cries of rage and vengeance. Mr. Correard then recollected,

that he had seen one in the hands of one of the chief workmen under his

command, and enquired of this man about it: "Yes, yes," said he, "I have it

with me." This news transported us with joy, and we thought that our safety

depended on this feeble resource. This little compass was about the size of

a crown-piece, and far from correct. He who has not been exposed to events,

in which his existence was in imminent peril, can form but a faint idea of

the value which one then sets upon the most common and simple objects, with

what avidity one seizes the slightest means, that are capable of softening

the rigour of the fate with which one has to contend. This compass was

given to the commander of the raft; but an accident deprived us of it for

ever: it fell, and was lost between the pieces of wood which composed our

machine: we had kept it only for a few hours; after this loss, we had

nothing to guide us but the rising and setting of the sun.

We had all left the frigate without taking any food: hunger began to be

severely felt; we mixed our biscuit-paste (which had fallen into the sea)

with a little wine, and we distributed it thus prepared: such was our first

meal, and the best we had the whole time we were on the raft.

An order, according to numbers, was fixed for the distribution of our

miserable provisions. The ration of wine was fixed at three quarters[21] a

day: we shall say no more of the biscuit: the first distribution consumed

it entirely. The day passed over pretty quietly: we conversed on the means

which we should employ to save ourselves; we spoke of it as a certainty,

which animated our courage: and we kept up that of the soldiers, by

cherishing the hope of being soon able to revenge ourselves upon those who

had so basely abandoned us. This hope of vengeance inspired us all equally,

and we uttered a thousand imprecations against those who had left us a prey

to so many misfortunes and dangers. The officer who commanded, the raft

being unable to move, Mr. Savigny took on himself the care of setting up

the mast; he caused the pole of one of the frigate's masts to be cut in

two; we employed the main-top-gallant sail; the mast was kept up by the

rope which had served to tow us, of which we made shrouds and stays: it was

fixed on the anterior third of the raft. The sail trimmed very well, but

the effect of it was of very little use to us; it served only when the wind

came from behind, and to make the raft preserve this direction it was

necessary to trim the sail, as if the wind came athwart. We think that the

cross position which our raft always retained, may be attributed to the too

great length of the pieces of wood which projected on each side.

In the evening, our hearts and our prayers, with the impulse natural to the

unfortunate, were directed towards heaven; we invoked it with fervour, and

we derived from our prayers the advantage of hoping in our safety: one must

have experienced cruel situations, to imagine what a soothing charm, in the

midst of misfortune, is afforded by the sublime idea of a God, the

protector of the unfortunate. One consoling idea still pleased our

imaginations; we presumed that the little division had sailed for the Isle

of Arguin, and that after having landed there a part of its people, would

return to our assistance: this idea, which we tried to inspire into our

soldiers and sailors, checked their clamours. The night came, and our hopes

were not yet fulfilled: the wind freshened, the sea rose considerably. What

a dreadful night! Nothing but the idea of seeing the boats the next day,

gave some consolation to our people; who being most of them unused to the

motion of a vessel,[22] at every shock of the sea, fell upon each other.

Mr. Savigny, assisted by some persons, who, in the midst of this disorder,

still retained their presence of mind, fastened some ropes to the pieces of

the raft: the men took hold of them, and by means of this support, were

better able to resist the force of the waves: some were obliged to fasten

themselves. In the middle of the night the weather was very bad; very heavy

waves rolled upon us, and often threw us down with great violence; the

cries of the people were mingled with the roaring of the billows; a

dreadful sea lifted us every moment from the raft, and threatened to carry

us away. This scene was rendered still more awful by the horrors of a very

dark night; for some moments we thought that we saw fires at a distance. We

had taken the precaution to hang, at the top of the mast, some gun-powder

and pistols, with which we had provided ourselves on board the frigate: we

made signals by burning a great many charges of powder; we even fired some

pistol-shot, but it seems that these fires were only an illusion of the

eyesight, or perhaps they were nothing but the dashing of the breakers.

This whole night we contended against death, holding fast by the ropes

which were strongly fastened. Rolled by the waves from the back to the

front, and from the front to the back, and sometimes precipitated into the

sea, suspended between life and death, lamenting our misfortune, certain to

perish, yet still struggling for a fragment of existence with the cruel

element which threatened to swallow us up. Such was our situation till

day-break; every moment were heard the lamentable cries of the soldiers and

sailors; they prepared themselves for death; they bid farewell to each

other, imploring the protection of Heaven, and addressing fervent prayers

to God: all made vows to him, notwithstanding the certainty that they

should never be able to fulfil them. Dreadful situation! How is it possible

to form an idea of it, which is not below the truth!

About seven o'clock, in the morning, the sea fell a little, the wind blew

with less fury; but what a sight presented itself to our view! Ten or

twelve unhappy wretches, having their lower extremities entangled in the

openings between the pieces of the raft, had not been able to disengage

themselves, and had lost their lives; several others had been carried off

by the violence of the sea. At the hour of repast we took fresh numbers, in

order to leave no break in the series: we missed twenty men: we will not

affirm that this number is very exact, for we found that some soldiers, in

order to have more than their ration, took two, and even three numbers. We

were so many persons crowded together, that it was absolutely impossible to

prevent these abuses.

Amidst these horrors, an affecting scene of filial piety forced us to shed

tears: two young men raised and recognised, for their father, an

unfortunate man who was stretched senseless under the feet of the people;

at first, they thought he was dead, and their despair expressed itself by

the most affecting lamentations; it was perceived, however, that this

almost inanimate body still had breath; we lavished on him all the

assistance in our power; he recovered by degrees, and was restored to life

and to the prayers of his sons, who held him fast embraced in their arms.

While the rights of nature resumed their empire in this affecting episode

of our sad adventures, we had soon the afflicting sight of a melancholy

contrast. Two young lads, and a baker, did not fear to seek death, by

throwing themselves into the sea, after having taken leave of their

companions in misfortune. Already the faculties of our men were singularly

impaired; some fancied they saw the land; others, vessels which were coming

to save us; all announced to us by their cries these fallacious visions.

We deplored the loss of our unhappy companions; we did not presage, at this

moment, the still more terrible scene which was to take place the following

night; far from that, we enjoyed a degree of satisfaction, so fully were we

persuaded that the boats would come to our relief. The day was fine, and

the most perfect tranquillity prevailed on our raft. The evening came, and

the boats did not appear. Despondency began again to seize all our people,

and a mutinous spirit manifested itself by cries of fury; the voice of the

officers was wholly disregarded. When the night came, the sky was covered

with thick clouds; the wind, which during the day had been rather high, now

became furious, and agitated the sea, which, in an instant, grew very

rough.

If the preceding night had been terrible, this was still more horrible.

Mountains of water covered us every moment, and broke, with violence, in

the midst of us; very happily we had the wind behind us, and the fury of

the waves was a little checked by the rapidity of our progress; we drove

towards the land. From the violence of the sea, the men passed rapidly from

the back to the front of the raft, we were obliged to keep in the centre,

the most solid part of the raft; those who could not get there, almost all

perished. Before and behind the waves dashed with fury, and carried off the

men in spite of all their resistance. At the centre, the crowd was such

that some poor men were stifled by the weight of their comrades, who fell

upon them every moment; the officers kept themselves at the foot of the

little mast, obliged, every instant, to avoid the waves, to call to those

who surrounded them to go on the one or the other side, for the waves which

came upon us, nearly athwart, gave our raft a position almost

perpendicular, so that, in order to counterbalance it, we were obliged to

run to that side which was raised up by the sea.[A10]

The soldiers and sailors, terrified by the presence of an almost inevitable

danger, gave themselves up for lost. Firmly believing that they were going

to be swallowed up, they resolved to soothe their last moments by drinking

till they lost the use of their reason; we had not strength to oppose this

disorder; they fell upon a cask which was at the middle of the raft, made a

large hole at one end, and with little tin cups which they had brought from

on board the frigate, they each took a pretty large quantity, but they were

soon obliged to desist, because the sea water entered by the hole which

they had made.

The fumes of the wine soon disordered their brains, already affected by the

presence of danger and want of food. Thus inflamed, these men, become deaf

to the voice of reason, desired to implicate, in one common destruction,

their companions in misfortune; they openly expressed their intention to

rid themselves of the officers, who they said, wished to oppose their

design, and then to destroy the raft by cutting the ropes which united the

different parts that composed it. A moment after, they were proceeding to

put this plan in execution. One of them advanced to the edge of the raft

with a boarding-axe, and began to strike the cords: this was the signal for

revolt: we advanced in order to stop these madmen: he who was armed with

the axe, with which he even threatened an officer, was the first victim: a

blow with a sabre put an end to his existence. This man was an Asiatic, and

soldier in a colonial regiment: a colossal stature, short curled hair, an

extremely large nose, an enormous mouth, a sallow complexion, gave him a

hideous air. He had placed himself, at first, in the middle of the raft,

and at every blow of his fist he overthrew those who stood in his way; he

inspired the greatest terror, and nobody dared to approach him. If there

had been half-a-dozen like him, our destruction would have been inevitable.

Some persons, desirous of prolonging their existence, joined those who

wished to preserve the raft, and armed themselves: of this number were some

subaltern officers and many passengers. The mutineers drew their sabres,

and those who had none, armed themselves with knives: they advanced

resolutely against us; we put ourselves on our defence: the attack was

going to begin. Animated by despair, one of the mutineers lifted his sabre

against an officer; he immediately fell, pierced with wounds. This firmness

awed them a moment; but did not at all diminish their rage. They ceased to

threaten us, and presenting a front bristling with sabres and bayonets,

they retired to the back part, to execute their plan. One of them pretended

to rest himself on the little railing which formed the sides of the raft,

and with a knife began to cut the cords. Being informed by a servant, we

rushed upon him--a soldier attempted to defend him--threatened an officer

with his knife, and in attempting to strike him, only pierced his coat--the

officer turned round--overpowered his adversary, and threw both him and his

comrade into the sea!

After this there were no more partial affairs: the combat became general.

Some cried lower the sail; a crowd of madmen instantly threw themselves on

the yards and the shrouds, and cut the stays, and let the mast fall, and

nearly broke the thigh of a captain of foot, who fell senseless. He was

seized by the soldiers, who threw him into the sea: we perceived it--saved

him, and placed him on a barrel, from which he was taken by the seditious;

who were going to cut out his eyes with a penknife. Exasperated by so many

cruelties, we no longer kept any measures, and charged them furiously. With

our sabres drawn we traversed the lines which the soldiers formed, and many

atoned with their lives for a moment of delusion. Several passengers

displayed much courage and coolness in these cruel moments.

Mr. Corréard was fallen into a kind of trance, but hearing every moment

cries of "_To arms! To us, comrades! We are undone_!" joined to the cries

and imprecations of the wounded and the dying, he was soon roused from his

lethargy. The increasing confusion made him sensible that it was necessary

to be upon his guard. Armed with his sabre, he assembled some of his

workmen on the front of the raft, and forbid them to hurt any one unless

they were attacked. He remained almost always with them, and they had

several times to defend themselves against the attacks of the mutineers;

who falling into the sea, returned by the front of the raft; which placed

Mr. Corréard and his little troop between two dangers, and rendered their

position very difficult to be defended. Every moment men presented

themselves, armed with knives, sabres and bayonets; many had carbines,

which they used as clubs. The workmen did their utmost to stop them, by

presenting the point of their sabres; and, notwithstanding the repugnance

they felt to combat their unhappy countrymen, they were however obliged to

use their arms without reserve; because many of the mutineers attacked them

with fury, it was necessary to repulse them in the same manner. In this

action some of the workmen received large wounds; he who commanded them

reckons a great number, which he received in the various combats they had

to maintain. At last their united efforts succeeded in dispersing the

masses that advanced furiously against them.

Narrative of a Voyage to Senegal in 1816 Undertaken by Order of the French Government, Comprising an Account of the Shipwreck of the Medusa, the Sufferings of the Crew, and the Various Occurrences on Board the Raft, in the Desert of Zaara, at St. Louis, and at the Camp of Daccard. to Which Are Subjoined Observations Respecting the Agriculture of the Western Coast of Africa, from Cape Blanco to the Mouth of the Gambia. · 第 3 / 17 段