after having put up our prayers to the Almighty, we divided among us, a
part of our wine; every one was taking with delight his small portion, when
a captain of infantry looking towards the horizon, descried a ship, and
announced it to us by an exclamation of joy: we perceived that it was a
brig; but it was at a very great distance; we could distinguish only the
tops of the masts. The sight of this vessel excited in us a transport of
joy which it would be difficult to describe; each of us believed his
deliverance certain, and we gave a thousand thanks to God; yet, fears
mingled with our hopes: we straitened some hoops of casks, to the end of
which we tied handkerchiefs of different colours. A man, assisted by us all
together, mounted to the top of the mast and waved these little flags.
For above half an hour, we were suspended between hope and fear; some
thought they saw the ship become larger, and others affirmed that its
course carried it from us: these latter were the only ones whose eyes were
not fascinated by hope, for the brig disappeared. From the delirium of joy,
we fell into profound despondency and grief; we envied the fate of those
whom we had seen perish at our side, and we said to ourselves, when we
shall be destitute of every thing, and our strength begins to forsake us,
we will wrap ourselves up as well as we can, we will lay ourselves down on
this platform, the scene of so many sufferings, and there we will await
death with resignation. At last, to calm our despair, we wished to seek
some consolation in the arms of sleep; the day before we had been consumed
by the fire of a burning sun; this day, to avoid the fierceness of his
beams, we made a tent with the sails of the frigate: as soon as it was put
up, we all lay down under it, so that we could not perceive what was
passing around us. We then proposed to inscribe upon a board an account of
our adventures, to write all our names at the bottom of the narrative, and
to fasten it to the upper part of the mast, in the hope that it would reach
the government and our families.
After we had passed two hours, absorbed in the most cruel reflections, the
master gunner of the frigate wishing to go to the front of the raft, went
out of our tent; scarcely had he put his head out, when he turned towards
us, uttering a loud cry; joy was painted on his countenance, his hands were
stretched towards the sea, he scarcely breathed: all that he could say,
was, "_Saved! see the brig close upon us_." And in fact, it was, at the
most, half a league distant, carrying a press of sail, and steering so as
to come extremely close to us; we precipitately left the tent: even those
whom enormous wounds, in the lower extremities, had confined for some days
past, always to lie down, crawled to the back part of the raft, to enjoy
the sight of this vessel, which was coming to deliver us from certain
death. We all embraced each other with transports that looked like
delirium, and tears of joy rolled down our cheeks, shrunk by the most cruel
privations. Every one seized handkerchiefs, or pieces of linen to make
signals to the brig, which was approaching rapidly. Others prostrating
themselves, fervently thanked Providence for our miraculous preservation.
Our joy redoubled when we perceived a great white flag at the foremast
head, and we exclaimed "It is then to Frenchmen that we shall owe our
deliverance." We almost immediately recognised the brig to be the Argus: it
was then within two musket shot: we were extremely impatient to see her
clue up her sails; she lowered them at length, and fresh cries of joy rose
from our raft. The Argus came and lay-to on our starboard, within half a
pistol shot. The crew, ranged on the deck and in the shrouds, shewed, by
waving their hats and handkerchiefs, the pleasure they felt at coming to
the assistance of their unhappy countrymen. A boat was immediately hoisted
out; an officer belonging to the brig, whose name was Mr. Lemaigre, had
embarked in it, in order to have the pleasure of taking us himself from
this fatal machine. This officer, full of humanity and zeal, acquitted
himself of his mission in the kindest manner, and took himself, those that
were the weakest, to convey them into the boat. After all the others were
placed in it, Mr. Lemaigre came and took in his arms Mr. Corréard, whose
health was the worst, and who was the most excoriated: he placed him at his
side in the boat, bestowed on him all imaginable cares, and spoke to him in
the most consoling terms.
In a short time we were all removed on board the Argus, where we met with
the lieutenant of the frigate, and some others of those who had been
shipwrecked. Pity was painted on every face, and compassion drew tears from
all who cast their eyes on us.
Let the reader imagine fifteen unfortunate men, almost naked; their bodies
and faces disfigured by the scorching beams of the sun; ten of the fifteen
were hardly able to move; our limbs were excoriated, our sufferings were
deeply imprinted on our features, our eyes were hollow, and almost wild,
and our long beards rendered our appearance still more frightful; we were
but the shadows of ourselves. We found on board the brig some very good
broth, which had been got ready; as soon as they perceived us, they added
some excellent wine to it; thus they restored our almost exhausted
strength; they bestowed on us the most generous care and attention; our
wounds were dressed, and the next day several of our sick began to recover;
however, some of us had a great deal to suffer; for they were placed
between decks, very near the kitchen, which augmented the almost
insupportable heat of these countries; the want of room in a small vessel,
was the cause of this inconvenience. The number of the shipwrecked was
indeed too great. Those who did not belong to the marine, were laid upon
cables, wrapped in some flags, and placed under the kitchen fire, which
exposed them to perish in the night; fire having broken out between decks,
about ten o'clock, which had like to have reduced the vessel to ashes; but
timely assistance was afforded, and we were saved for the second time. We
had scarcely escaped when some of us again become delirious: an officer of
the army wanted to throw himself into the sea, to go and look for his
pocket book; which he would have done had he not been prevented; others
were seized in a manner equally striking.
The commander and officers of the brig were eager to serve us, and kindly
anticipated our wants. They had just snatched us from death, by rescuing us
from our raft; their reiterated care rekindled in us the flame of life. Mr.
Renaud, the surgeon, distinguished himself by indefatigable zeal; he passed
the whole day in dressing our wounds; and during the two days that we
remained on board the brig, he exerted all the resources of his art, with a
degree of attention and gentleness which merit our eternal gratitude.
It was, in truth, time that our sufferings should have an end: they had
already lasted thirteen days; the strongest among us might, at the most,
have lived forty-eight hours more. Mr. Corréard, felt that he must die in
the course of the day; yet he had a foreboding that we should be saved; he
said that a series of events so extraordinary was not destined to be buried
in oblivion: that providence would preserve some of us at least, to present
to mankind the affecting picture of our unhappy adventures.
Through how many terrible trials have we past! Where are the men who can
say that they have been more unfortunate than we have?
The manner in which we were saved is truly miraculous: the finger of heaven
is conspicuous in this event.
The Argus had been dispatched, from Senegal, to assist the shipwrecked
people belonging to the boats, and to look for the raft; for several days
it sailed along the coast without meeting us, and gave provisions to the
people from the boats who were crossing the great desert of Zaara; the
captain, thinking that it would be useless to look for our raft any longer,
steered his course towards the harbour from which he had been dispatched,
in order to announce that his search had been fruitless; it was when he was
running towards Senegal that we perceived him. In the morning he was not
above forty leagues from the mouth of the river, when the wind veered to
the South West; the captain, as by a kind of inspiration, said that they
ought to go about, the winds blew towards the frigate; after they had run
two hours on this tack, the man at the mast head, announced a vessel: when
the brig was nearer to us, by the aid of glasses, they perceived that it
was our raft. When we were taken up by the Argus, we asked this question:
Gentlemen have you been long looking for us? We were answered yes; but
that, however, the captain had not received any positive orders on the
subject; and that we were indebted to chance alone, for the good fortune of
having been met with. We repeat with pleasure the expression of Mr.
Parnajon, addressed to one of us. "If they were to give me the rank of
captain of a frigate, I should feel a less lively pleasure, than that which
I experienced when I met your raft." Some persons said to us without
reserve, "We thought you were all dead a week ago." We say that the
commander of the brig had not received positive orders to look for us. The
following were his instructions: "Mr. de Parnajon, commanding the brig
Argus, will proceed to the side of the desert with his vessel, will employ
every means to assist the shipwrecked persons, who must have reached the
coast; and will supply them with such provisions and ammunition as they may
want; after having assured himself of the fate of these unfortunate
persons, he will endeavour to continue his course to the Medusa, to see
whether the currents have carried the raft towards her." This is all that
was said of our wretched machine. It is very certain, that, at the Island
of St. Louis, we were given up; our friends believed we had perished: this
is so true, that some, who were going to send letters to Europe, wrote that
one hundred and fifty unfortunate people had been placed on a raft, and
that it was impossible they should have escaped. It will not, perhaps, be
out of place, to mention here a conversation which took place respecting
us. In a pretty large company, some persons said: "It is a pity that the
raft was abandoned; for there were many brave fellows on board; but their
sufferings are over; they are happier than we, for who knows how all this
will end." In short, as we were now found, the frigate steered again for
Senegal, and the next day we saw the land, for which we had been longing
for thirteen days: we cast anchor in the evening off the coast, and in the
morning, the winds being favorable, we directed our course to the road of
St. Louis, where we cast anchor on the 19th of July, about three o'clock in
the afternoon.
Such is the faithful history of one hundred and fifty persons, who were
left upon the raft; only fifteen of whom were saved; and five of that
number were so reduced, that they died of fatigue, shortly after arriving
at St. Louis; those who still exist are covered with scars, and the cruel
sufferings which they have endured have greatly impaired their
constitution.
In terminating this recital of the unparalelled sufferings, to which we
were a prey for thirteen days, we beg leave to name those who shared them
with us:
_Alive when we were saved._ _Notice of their subsequent fate_.
Messrs.
Dupont, Captain of Foot; In Senegal.
L'Heureux, Lieutenant; In Senegal.
Lozach, Sub-Lieutenant; Dead.
Clairet, Sub-Lieutenant; Dead.
Griffon du Bellay, Ex-Clerk of the Navy; Out of employment.
Coudin, _élève de marine_; Midshipman.
Charlot, Serjeant Major (of Toulon); In Senegal.
Courtade, Master Gunner; Dead.
Lavillette. In France.
Coste, Sailor; In France.
Thomas, Pilot; In France.
François, Hospital Keeper; In the Indies.
Jean Charles, black Soldier; Dead.
Corréard, Engineer Geographer; Without employment.
Savigny, Surgeon. Resigned.
The governor having been apprised of our arrival, sent a large-decked
vessel to convey us ashore. This vessel also brought us wine and some
refreshments; the master, thinking the tide sufficiently high to enable him
to pass the bar of sand, which lies at the mouth of the river, resolved to
land us at once upon the island. Those who were the most feeble among us,
were placed below deck, together with a few of the least skilful of the
negroes, who composed the crew, and the hatches closed upon us, to prevent
the sea from coming in between decks, while the dangers occasioned by the
surf running over the bar, was passed. The wretched condition to which we
were reduced, was such as to awaken a feeling of sympathy, even among the
blacks, who shed tears of compassion for our misfortunes; during this time,
the most profound silence reigned on board; the voice of the master alone
was heard; as soon as we were out of danger, the negroes recommenced their
songs, which did not cease till we arrived at St. Louis.
We were received in the most brilliant manner; the governor, several
officers, both English and French, came to meet us, and one of the officers
in this numerous train, held out to us a hand, which a fortnight before,
had, as it were, plunged us in the depth of despair by loosening the
tow-rope which made our raft fast to the boat. But such is the effect
produced by the sight of wretches who have just been miraculously
delivered, that there was not a single person, either English or French,
who did not shed tears of compassion on seeing the deplorable condition to
which we were reduced; all seemed truly affected by our distress, and by
the intrepidity which we had shewn on the raft. Yet we could not contain
our indignation, at the sight of some persons in this train.
Some of us were received by two French merchants, who bestowed on us every
attention, and rendered every assistance in their power. Messrs. Valentin
and Lasalle stimulated by that natural impulse which incites man to assist
a fellow creature in distress, is, on that account, entitled to the highest
praise. We are extremely sorry to say that they were the only colonists who
gave assistance to the shipwrecked people belonging to the raft.
Before we proceed to the second part of our work, in which we shall include
the history of the Camp of Daccard and of the unfortunate persons
shipwrecked in the Medusa, who remained in the hospitals of St. Louis, let
us cast our eyes back, and examine what were the operations of the boats
after the tow-lines had been loosened, and the raft abandoned.
The long-boat was the last which we lost sight of. It descried the land and
the Isles of Arguin, the same evening before sun-set: the other boats must,
therefore, necessarily, have seen it some time before, which proves, we
think, that when we were abandoned, we were at a very small distance from
the coast. Two boats succeeded in reaching Senegal without accident; they
were those in; which were the governor and the commander of the frigate.
During the bad weather, which forced the other boats to make the land,
these two had a great deal of difficulty to resist a heavy sea and an
extremely high wind. Two young seamen gave proofs of courage and coolness
in these critical moments, in the barge. Mr. Barbotin, _élève_ of the
marine: and in the captain's barge, Mr. Rang,[32] also an _élève_ of the
marine, as deserving of praise for his knowledge, as for the courage he
displayed on this occasion; both of them, as long as the bad weather
lasted, remained at the helm, and guided the boats. One Thomas, steersman,
and one Lange, the boatswain's mate, also shewed great courage, and all the
experience of old seamen. These two boats, reached the _Echo_ corvette, on
the 9th, at 10 o'clock in the evening, which had been at anchor for some
days, in the road of St. Louis. A council was held, and the most prompt and
certain measures adopted to assist those who were left on board the boats
and the raft.
The Argus brig was appointed for this mission. The commander of this
vessel, burning with eagerness to fly to the assistance of his unfortunate
countrymen, wanted to set sail that very moment; but causes, respecting
which we shall be silent, fettered his zeal; however, this distinguished
officer executed the orders which he received with uncommon activity.
Let us return to the history of the four other boats; and first, that of
the principal, which was the long-boat. As soon as it descried the land, it
tacked and stood out in the open sea; because it was on the shallows, and
it would have been imprudent to pass the night in one metre, or one metre
30 centimetres of water; it had already grounded two or three times. On the
6th, about four o'clock in the morning, finding itself too far from the
coast, and the sea very hollow, it tacked, and in a few hours saw the coast
for the second time. At eight o'clock, they were extremely near, and the
men ardently desiring to get on shore, sixty-three of the most resolute
were landed; arms were given them, and as much biscuit as could be spared;
they set out in search of Senegal, following the sea-coast. This landing
was effected to the North of Cape Meric, eighty or ninety leagues from the
Isle of St. Louis.[B7] This vessel then stood out to sea. We will leave,
for the present, these sixty-three poor people who have been landed on the
sands of Cape Meric; and shall return to them in the sequel.
We will now proceed to describe the motions and fate of the other vessels.
At noon, after having proceeded some miles, the long-boat saw the other
vessels, and endeavoured to fall in with them; but every one distrusted the
other: the long-boat did its utmost to rally them; but they employed all
the means they could to avoid the meeting; even the officers assisted in
working them, because some persons had asserted that the crew of the
long-boat had mutinied, and had even threatened to fire on the other
boats.[33] The long-boat, on the other hand, which had just landed a part
of its people, advanced to inform the other boats that it was able to
relieve them, in case they were too much loaded. The captain's boat and the
_pirogue_, were the only ones that came within hail: at five o'clock in the
afternoon the sea became hollow, and the wind very high, when the pirogue,
unable to hold out against it, asked the assistance of the long-boat, which
tacked and took on board the fifteen persons which that frail boat
contained. At two o'clock in the afternoon, of the 8th,[B8] the men,
tormented by a burning thirst, and a violent hunger which they could not
appease, obliged the officer, by their reiterated importunities, to make
the land, which was done the same evening. His intention was to proceed to
Senegal: he would doubtless have succeeded; but the cries of the soldiers
and sailors, who murmured loudly, induced the measure that was taken, and
the crew landed about forty leagues from the Island of St. Louis. The
great-boat, which had approached very near the coast, and had not been able
to resist the violence of the weather, being besides, destitute of
provisions, had also been obliged to make the land on the 8th: the first,
at five in the afternoon; the second, at eleven in the morning.[B9] The
officers joined their crews, ranged them in order, and proceeded towards
Senegal; but they were in distress, destitute of resources of every kind:
without a guide, on a coast inhabited by barbarians: hunger and thirst
cruelly tormented them; the beams of a scorching sun, reflected from the
immense sandy plains, aggravated their sufferings. In the day, oppressed by
excessive heat, they could scarcely move a step: it was only in the cool of
the morning and the evening, that they could pursue their painful march.
Having, after infinite pains, crossed the downs, they met with vast plains,
where they had the good fortune to find water, by digging holes in the
sand: this refreshing beverage gave them fresh life and hope.
This manner of procuring water is mentioned by many travellers, and
practised in various countries. All along the coasts of Senegambia, and for
some distance in land, they find, by digging in the sand to the depth of
five or six feet, a white and brackish water, which is exclusively used in
these countries, both for the ordinary beverage and domestic purposes; the
water of the Senegal, may, however, be used at St. Louis at the time of the
rise or inundation.
The Moors have signs, which they have agreed upon among themselves, to
inform each other at a distance when they have found water. As the sands of
the desert lie in undulations, and the surface of these plains has the
appearance of a sea, broken in large waves, which, by some sudden
enchantment, had been fixed and suspended before they could fall back; it
is on the ridges of these motionless waves, that the Moors in general
travel, unless they run in a direction too different from that of their
intended route, in which case they are obliged to traverse them; but
besides, as these ridges themselves are not always ranged parallel to each
other, but frequently cross each other, the Moors always have some of their
party before, to serve as guides, and to point out by signs with their
hands, at every crossing, on which side they ought to go; and also every
thing which prudence requires they should know before hand, as well as the
water, or rather the moisture and verdure which are to be perceived. In
general, these people who approach the sea-coast during the winds and
hurricanes of the summer solstice, rarely keep on the breach properly so
called, because they and their cattle are too much tormented by myriads of
flies which never quit the sea-coast. In this same season the appearance of
the gnats, or mosquitoes, induces them to remove from the Senegal, for
their cattle being incessantly stung by these animals, become mad and sick.
Our people met with some of these Moors, and in some measure forced them to
serve as guides; after continuing their march along the sea-coast, they
perceived on the morning of the 11th, the Argus brig, which was cruising to
assist those who had landed; as soon as the brig perceived them, it
approached very near to the coast, lay-to, and sent a boat on shore with
biscuit and wine.
On the 11th, in the evening, they met with more of the natives, and an
Irish captain of a merchant ship, who, of his own accord, had come from St.
Louis with the intention of assisting the sufferers: he spoke the language
of the country, and had put on the same dress as the Moors. We are sorry
that we cannot recollect the name of this foreign officer, which we should
take particular pleasure in publishing; but since time has effaced it from
our memory, we will at least publish his zeal and noble efforts, which are
an unquestionable title to the gratitude of every man of feeling. At last,
after the most cruel sufferings and privations, the unfortunate men who
composed the crews of the great-boat, and of that which we called the
Senegal boat, twenty-five men from the long-boat, and fifteen persons from
the pirogue, arrived at Saint Louis, on the 13th of July, at seven o'clock
in the evening, after having wandered above five whole days, in the midst
of these frightful deserts, which on all sides presented to their eyes only
the most profound solitude, and the prospect of inevitable destruction.