remained faithful, that one of their comrades, named Dominique, had taken
part with the mutineers, and that he had just been thrown into the sea.
Immediately forgetting the fault and the treachery of this man, he threw
himself in after him, at the place where the voice of the wretch had just
been heard calling for assistance; he seized him by the hair, and had the
good fortune to get him on board. Dominique had received, in a charge,
several sabre wounds, one of which had laid open his head. Notwithstanding
the darkness we found the wound, which appeared to us to be very
considerable. One of the workmen gave his handkerchief to bind it up and
stanch the blood. Our care revived this wretch; but as soon as he recovered
his strength, the ungrateful Dominique, again forgetting his duty and the
signal service that he had just received from us, went to rejoin the
mutineers. So much baseness and fury did not go unpunished; and soon
afterwards, while combating us anew, he met with his death, from which he,
in fact, did not merit to be rescued, but which he would probably have
avoided, if faithful to honor and to gratitude, he had remained among us.
Just when we had almost finished applying a kind of dressing to the wounds
of Dominique, another voice was heard; it was that of the unfortunate woman
who was on the raft with us, and whom the madmen had thrown into the sea,
as well as her husband, who defended her with courage. Mr. Corréard, in
despair at seeing two poor wretches perish, whose lamentable cries,
especially those of the woman, pierced his heart, seized a large rope which
was on the front of the raft, which he fastened round the middle of his
body, and threw himself, a second time, into the sea, whence he was so
happy as to rescue the woman, who invoked, with all her might, the aid of
Our Lady of Laux, while her husband was likewise saved by the chief
workman, Lavillette. We seated these two poor people upon dead bodies, with
their backs leaning against a barrel. In a few minutes they had recovered
their senses. The first thought of the woman was to enquire the name of him
who had saved her, and to testify to him the warmest gratitude. Thinking,
doubtless, that her words did not sufficiently express her sentiments, she
recollected that she had, in her pocket, a little snuff, and immediately
offered it to him--it was all she possessed. Touched by this present, but
not making use of this antiscorbutic, Mr. Corréard, in turn, made a present
of it to a poor sailor, who used it three or four days. But a more
affecting scene, which it is impossible for us to describe, is the joy
which this unfortunate couple displayed when they had sufficiently
recovered their senses to see that they were saved.
The mutineers being repulsed, as we have said above, left us at this moment
a little repose. The moon with her sad beams, illumined this fatal raft,
this narrow space, in which were united so many heart-rending afflictions,
so many cruel distresses, a fury so insensate, a courage so heroic, the
most pleasing and generous sentiments of nature and humanity.
The man and his wife, who just before had seen themselves attacked with
sabres and bayonets, and thrown at the same moment into the waves of a
stormy sea, could hardly believe their senses when they found themselves in
each others arms. They felt, they expressed, so fervently, the happiness
which they were alas, to enjoy for so short a time, that this affecting
sight might have drawn tears from the most insensible heart; but in this
terrible moment, when we were but just breathing after the most furious
attack, when we were forced to be constantly on our guard, not only against
the attacks of the men, but also against the fury of the waves: few of us
had time, if we may say so, to suffer ourselves to be moved by this scene
of conjugal friendship.
Mr. Corréard, one of those whom it had most agreeably affected, hearing the
woman still recommend herself, as she had done when in the sea, to our Lady
of Laux, exclaiming every instant, "our good Lady of Laux do not forsake
us," recollected that there was, in fact, in the Department of the Upper
Alps, a place of devotion so called,[23] and asked her if she came from
that country. She replied in the affirmative, and said she had quitted it
24 years before, and that since that time she had been in the Campaigns in
Italy, &c. as a sutler; that she had never quitted our armies. "Therefore,"
said she, "preserve my life, you see that I am a useful woman." "Oh! if you
knew how often I also have braved death on the field of battle, to carry
assistance to our brave men." Then she amused herself with giving some
account of her campaigns. She mentioned those she had assisted, the
provisions which she had provided them, the brandy with which she had
treated them. "Whether they had money or not," said she, "I always let them
have my goods. Sometimes a battle made me lose some of my poor debtors; but
then, after the victory, others paid me double or triple the value of the
provisions which they had consumed before the battle. Thus I had a share in
their victory." The idea of owing her life to Frenchmen, at this moment,
seemed still to add to her happiness. Unfortunate woman! she did not
foresee the dreadful fate that awaited her among us! Let us return to our
raft.
After this second check, the fury of the soldiers suddenly abated, and gave
place to extreme cowardice: many of them fell at our feet and asked pardon,
which was instantly granted them. It is here, the place to observe and to
proclaim aloud for the honour of the French army, which has shewn itself as
great, as courageous, under reverses, as formidable in battle, that most of
these wretches were not worthy to wear its uniform. They were the scum of
all countries, the refuse of the prisons, where they had been collected to
make up the force charged with the defence and the protection of the
colony. When, for the sake of health, they were made to bathe in the sea, a
ceremony from which some of them had the modesty to endeavour to excuse
themselves, the whole crew had ocular demonstration that it was not upon
the _breast_ that these heroes wore the insignia of the exploits, which had
led them to serve the state in the Ports of Toulon, Brest or Rochefort.
This is not the moment, and perhaps we are not competent to examine whether
the penalty of branding, as it is re-established in our present code, is
compatible with the true object of all good legislation, that of correcting
while punishing, of striking only as far as is necessary to prevent and
preserve; in short, of producing the greatest good to all with the least
possible evil to individuals. Reason at least seems to demonstrate, and
what has passed before our own eyes authorises us to believe that it is as
dangerous, as inconsistent, to entrust arms for the protection of society,
to the hands of those whom society has itself rejected from its bosom; that
it implies a contradiction to require courage, generosity, and that
devotedness which commands a noble heart to sacrifice itself for its
country and fellow creatures, from wretches branded, degraded by
corruption, in whom every moral energy is destroyed, or eternally
compressed by the weight of the indelible opprobrium which renders them
aliens to their country, which separates them for ever from the rest of
mankind.
We soon had on board our raft a fresh proof of the impossibility of
depending on the permanence of any honorable sentiment in the hearts of
beings of this description.
Thinking that order was restored, we had returned to our post at the center
of the raft, only we took the precaution to retain our arms. It was nearly
midnight: after an hours apparent tranquillity, the soldiers rose again:
their senses were entirely deranged; they rushed upon us like madmen, with
their knives or sabres in their hands. As they were in full possession of
their bodily strength, and were also armed, we were forced again to put
ourselves on our defence. Their revolt was the more dangerous, as in their
delirium they were entirely deaf to the cries of reason. They attacked us;
we charged them in our turn, and soon the raft was covered with their dead
bodies. Those among our adversaries who had no arms, attempted to tear us
with their teeth; several of us were cruelly bitten; Mr. Savigny was
himself bitten in the legs and the shoulder; he received also a wound with
a knife in his right arm which deprived him, for a long time, of the use of
the fourth and little fingers of that hand; many others were wounded; our
clothes were pierced in many places by knives and sabres. One of our
workmen was also seized by four of the mutineers, who were going to throw
him into the sea. One of them had seized him by the right leg, and was
biting him cruelly in the sinew above the heel. The others were beating him
severely with their sabres and the but end of their carbines; his cries
made us fly to his aid. On this occasion, the brave Lavillette, ex-serjeant
of the artillery on foot, of the old guard, behaved with courage worthy of
the highest praise: we rushed on these desperadoes, after the example of
Mr. Corréard, and soon rescued the workman from the danger which threatened
him. A few moments after, the mutineers, in another charge, seized on the
sub-lieutenant Lozach, whom they took, in their delirium, for Lieutenant
Danglas, of whom we have spoken above, and who had abandoned the raft when
we were on the point of putting off from the frigate. The soldiers, in
general, bore much ill will to this officer, who had seen little service,
and whom they reproached with having treated them harshly while they were
in garrison in the Isle of Rhé. It would have been a favorable opportunity
for them to satiate their rage upon him, and the thirst of vengeance and
destruction which animated them to fancy that they had found him in the
person of Mr. Lozach, they were going to throw him into the sea. In truth,
the soldiers almost equally disliked the latter, who had served only in the
Vendean bands of Saint Pol de Leon. We believed this officer lost, when his
voice being heard, informed us that it was still possible to save him.
Immediately Messrs. Clairet, Savigny, l'Heureux, Lavillette, Coudin,
Corréard, and some workmen, having formed themselves into little parties,
fell upon the insurgents with so much impetuosity that they overthrew all
who opposed them, recovered Mr. Lozach, and brought him back to the center
of the raft.
The preservation of this officer cost us infinite trouble. Every moment the
soldiers demanded that he should be given up to them, always calling him by
the name of Danglas. It was in vain we attempted to make them sensible of
their mistake, and to recal to their memory, that he, whom they demanded,
had returned on board the frigate, as they had themselves seen; their cries
drowned the voice of reason; every thing was in their eyes Danglas; they
saw him every where, they furiously and unceasingly demanded his head, and
it was only by force of arms, that we succeeded in repressing their rage,
and in silencing their frightful cries.
On this occasion we had also reason to be alarmed for the safety of Mr.
Coudin. Wounded and fatigued by the attacks which we had sustained with the
disaffected, and in which he had displayed the most dauntless courage, he
was reposing on a barrel, holding in his arms a sailor boy, of twelve years
of age, to whom he had attached himself. The mutineers seized him with his
barrel, and threw him into the sea with the boy, whom he still held fast;
notwithstanding this burden, he had the presence of mind to catch hold of
the raft, and to save himself from this extreme danger. Dreadful night! thy
gloomy veil covered these cruel combats, instigated by the most terrible
despair.
We cannot conceive how a handful of individuals could resist such a
considerable number of madmen. There were, certainly, not more than twenty
of us to resist all these furious wretches. Let it, however, not be
imagined, that we preserved our reason unimpaired amidst all this disorder;
terror, alarm, the most cruel privations had greatly affected our
intellectual faculties; but being a little less deranged than the
unfortunate soldiers, we energetically opposed their determination to cut
the cords of the raft. Let us be allowed to make some reflections on the
various sensations with which we were affected.
The very first day, Mr. Griffon lost his senses so entirely, that he threw
himself into the sea, intending to drown himself. Mr. Savigny saved him
with his own hand. His discourse was vague and unconnected. He threw
himself into the water a second time, but by a kind of instinct he kept
hold of one of the cross pieces of the raft: and was again rescued.
The following is an account of what Mr. Savigny experienced in the
beginning of the night. His eyes closed in spite of himself, and he felt a
general lethargy; in this situation the most agreeable images played before
his fancy; he saw around him, a country covered with fine plantations, and
he found himself in the presence of objects which delighted all his senses;
yet he reasoned on his situation, and felt that courage alone would recover
him from this species of trance; he asked the master gunner of the frigate
for some wine: who procured him a little; and he recovered in a degree from
this state of torpor. If the unfortunate men, when they were attacked by
these first symptoms, had not had resolution to struggle against them,
their death was certain. Some became furious; others threw themselves into
the sea, taking leave of their comrades with great coolness; some said
"Fear nothing, I am going to fetch you assistance: in a short time you will
see me again." In the midst of this general madness, some unfortunate
wretches were seen to rush upon their comrades with their sabres drawn,
demanding the _wing of a chicken_, or _bread_ to appease the hunger which
devoured them; others called for their hammocks, "_to go_," they said,
"_between the decks of the frigate and take some moments' repose_." Many
fancied themselves still on board the Medusa, surrounded with the same
objects which they saw there every day. Some saw ships, and called them to
their assistance, or a harbour, in the back ground of which there was a
magnificent city.
Mr. Corréard fancied he was travelling through the fine plains of Italy;
one of the officers said to him, gravely, "_I remember that we have been
deserted by the boats; but fear nothing; I have just written to the
governor, and in a few hours we shall be saved._" Mr. Corréard replied in
the same tone, and as if he had been in an ordinary situation, "_Have you a
pigeon to carry your orders with as much celerity?_" The cries and the
tumult soon roused us from the state in which we were plunged; but scarcely
was tranquillity restored, when we sunk back into the same species of
trance: so that the next day we seemed to awake from a painful dream, and
asked our companions if, during their sleep, they had seen combats and
heard cries of despair. Some of them replied that they had been continually
disturbed by the same visions, and that they were exhausted with fatigue:
all thought themselves deceived by the illusions of a frightful dream.
When we recal to our minds those terrible scenes, they present themselves
to our imagination like those frightful dreams which sometimes make a
profound impression on us; so that, when we awake, we remember the
different circumstances which rendered our sleep so agitated. All these
horrible events, from which we have escaped by a miracle, appear to us like
a point in our existence: we compare them with the fits of a burning fever,
which has been accompanied by a delirium: a thousand objects appear before
the imagination of the patient: when restored to health, he sometimes
recollects the visions that have tormented him during the fever which
consumed him, and exalted his imagination. We were really seized with a
fever on the brain, the consequence of a mental exaltation carried to the
extreme. As soon as daylight beamed upon us, we were much more calm:
darkness brought with it a renewal of the disorder in our weakened
intellects. We observed in ourselves that the natural terror, inspired by
the cruel situation in which we were, greatly increased in the silence of
the night: then all objects seemed to us much more terrible.
After these different combats, worn out with fatigue, want of food and of
sleep, we endeavoured to take a few moments' repose, at length daylight
came, and disclosed all the horrors of the scene. A great number had, in
their delirium, thrown themselves into the sea: we found that between sixty
and sixty-five men had perished during the night; we calculated that, at
least, a fourth part had drowned themselves in despair. We had lost only
two on our side, neither of whom was an officer. The deepest despondency
was painted on every face; every one, now that he was come to himself, was
sensible of his situation; some of us, shedding tears of despair, bitterly
deplored the rigour of our fate.
We soon discovered a new misfortune; the rebels, during the tumult, had
thrown into the sea two barrels of wine, and the only two casks of water
that we had on the raft.[24] As soon as Mr. Corréard perceived that they
were going to throw the wine into the sea, and that the barrels were almost
entirely made loose, he resolved to place himself on one of them; where he
was continually thrown to and fro by the impulse of the waves; but he did
not let go his hold. His example was followed by some others, who seized
the second cask, and remained some hours at that dangerous post. After much
trouble they had succeeded in saving these two casks; which being every
moment violently driven against their legs had bruised them severely. Being
unable to hold out any longer, they made some representations to those who,
with Mr. Savigny, employed all their efforts to maintain order and preserve
the raft. One of them took his (Mr. Corréard) place; others relieved the
rest: but finding this service too difficult, and being assaulted by the
mutineers, they forsook this post. Then the barrels were thrown into the
sea.
Two casks of wine had been consumed the preceding day; we had only one
left, and we were above sixty in number; so that it was necessary to put
ourselves on half allowance.
At daybreak the sea grew calm, which enabled us to put up our mast again;
we then did our utmost to direct our course towards the coast. Whether it
were an illusion or reality we thought we saw it, and that we distinguished
the burning air of the Zaara Desert. It is, in fact, very probable that we
were not very distant from it, for we had had winds from the sea which had
blown violently. In the sequel we spread the sail indifferently to every
wind that blew, so that one day we approached the coast, on the next ran
into the open sea.
As soon as our mast was replaced, we made a distribution of wine; the
unhappy soldiers murmured and accused us for privations, which we bore as
well as they: they fell down with fatigue. For forty-eight hours we had
taken nothing, and had been obliged to struggle incessantly against a
stormy sea; like them we could hardly support ourselves; courage alone
still made us act. We resolved to employ all possible means to procure
fish. We collected all the tags from the soldiers, and made little hooks of
them; we bent a bayonet to catch sharks: all this availed us nothing; the
currents carried our hooks under the raft, where they got entangled. A
shark bit at the bayonet, and straightened it. We gave up our project. But
an extreme resource was necessary to preserve our wretched existence. We
tremble with horror at being obliged to mention that which we made use of!
we feel our pen drop from our hand; a deathlike chill pervades all our
limbs; our hair stands erect on our heads!--Reader, we beseech you, do not
feel indignation towards men who are already too unfortunate; but have
compassion on them, and shed some tears of pity on their unhappy fate.
Those whom death had spared in the disastrous night which we have just
described, fell upon the dead bodies with which the raft was covered, and
cut off pieces, which some instantly devoured. Many did not touch them;
almost all the officers were of this number. Seeing that this horrid
nourishment had given strength to those who had made use of it, it was
proposed to dry it, in order to render it a little less disgusting. Those
who had firmness enough to abstain from it took a larger quantity of wine.
We tried to eat sword-belts and cartouch-boxes. We succeeded in swallowing
some little morsels. Some eat linen. Others pieces of leather from the
hats, on which there was a little grease, or rather dirt. We were obliged
to give up these last means. A sailor attempted to eat excrements, but he
could not succeed.
The day was calm and fine: a ray of hope allayed our uneasiness for a
moment. We still expected to see the boats or some vessels; we addressed
our prayers to the Eternal, and placed our confidence in him. The half of
our men were very weak, and bore on all their features the stamp of
approaching dissolution. The evening passed over, and no assistance came.
The darkness of this third night increased our alarm; but the wind was
slight, and the sea less agitated. We took some moment's repose: a repose
which was still more terrible than our situation the preceding day; cruel
dreams added to the horrors of our situation. Tormented by hunger and
thirst, our plaintive cries sometimes awakened from his sleep, the wretch
who was reposing close to us. We were even now up to our knees in the
water, so that we could only repose standing, pressed against each other to
form a solid mass. The fourth morning's sun, after our departure, at length
rose on our disaster, and shewed us ten or twelve of our companions
extended lifeless on the rail. This sight affected us the more as it
announced to us that our bodies, deprived of existence, would soon be
stretched on the same place. We gave their bodies to the sea for a grave;
reserving only one, destined to feed those who, the day before, had clasped
his trembling hands, vowing him an eternal friendship. This day was fine;
our minds, longing for more agreeable sensations, were harmonized by the
soothing aspect of nature, and admitted a ray of hope. About four in the
afternoon a circumstance occurred which afforded us some consolation: a
shoal of flying fish passed under the raft, and as the extremities left an
infinite number of vacancies between the pieces which composed it, the fish
got entangled in great numbers. We threw ourselves upon them, and caught a
considerable quantity: we took near two hundred and put them in an empty
cask;[25] as we caught them we opened them to take out what is called the
milt. This food seemed delicious to us; but one man would have wanted a
thousand. Our first impulse was to address new thanksgivings to God for
this unexpected benefit.
An ounce of gunpowder had been found in the morning, and dried in the sun,
during the day, which was very fine; a steel, some gun-flints and tinder
were also found in the same parcel. After infinite trouble we succeeded in
setting fire to some pieces of dry linen. We made a large hole in one side
of an empty cask, and placed at the bottom of it several things which we
wetted, and on this kind of scaffolding we made our fire: we placed it on a
barrel that the seawater might not put out our fire. We dressed some fish,
which we devoured with extreme avidity; but our hunger was so great and our
portion of fish so small, that we added to it some human flesh, which
dressing rendered less disgusting; it was this which the officers touched,
for the first time. From this day we continued to use it; but we could not
dress it any more, as we were entirely deprived of the means; our barrel
catching fire we extinguished it without being able to save any thing
whereby to light it again next day. The powder and the tinder were entirely
consumed. This repast gave us all fresh strength to bear new fatigues. The
night was tolerable, and would have appeared happy had it not been
signalised by a new massacre.