DEPARTURE FROM ROCHEFORT--THE PICARD FAMILY EMBARK IN THE MEDUSA
FRIGATE--ACCOUNT OF THE VOYAGE TILL THEY REACH THE ARGUIN BANK.
Early on the morning of the 12th of June, we were on our way to the
boats that were to convey us on board the Medusa, which was riding at
anchor off the island of Aix, distant about four leagues from Rochefort.
The field through which we passed was sown with corn. Wishing, before I
left our beautiful France, to make my farewell to the flowers, and,
whilst our family went leisurely forward to the place where we were to
embark upon the Charente, I crossed the furrows, and gathered a few
blue-bottles and poppies. We soon arrived at the place of embarkation,
where we found some of our fellow-passengers, who, like myself, seemed
casting a last look to Heaven, whilst they were yet on the French soil.
We embarked, however, and left these happy shores. In descending the
tortuous course of the Charente, contrary winds so impeded our progress,
that we did not reach the Medusa till the morrow, having taken
twenty-four hours in sailing four leagues. At length we mounted the
deck of the Medusa, of painful memory. When we got on board, we found
our births not provided for us, consequently were obliged to remain
indiscriminately together till next day. Our family, which consisted of
nine persons, was placed in a birth near the main deck. As the wind was
still contrary, we lay at anchor for seventeen days.
On the 17th of June, at four in the morning, we set sail, as did the
whole expedition, which consisted of the Medusa frigate, the Loire
store-ship, the Argus brig, and the Echo corvette. The wind being very
favourable, we soon lost sight of the green fields of l'Aunis. At six in
the morning, however, the island of Rhe still appeared above the
horizon. We fixed our eyes upon it with regret, to salute for the last
time our dear country. Now, imagine the ship born aloft, and surrounded
by huge mountains of water, which at one moment tossed it in the air,
and at another plunged it into the profound abyss. The waves, raised by
a stormy north-west breeze, came dashing in a horrible manner against
the sides of our ship. I know not whether it was a presentiment of the
misfortune which menaced us that had made me pass the preceding night in
the most cruel inquietude. In my agitation, I sprang upon deck, and
contemplated with horror the frigate winging its way upon the waters.
The winds pressed against the sails with great violence, strained and
whistled among the cordage; and the great hulk of wood seemed to split
every time the surge broke upon its sides. On looking a little out to
sea I perceived, at no great distance on our right, all the other ships
of the expedition, which quieted me much. Towards ten in the morning
the wind changed; immediately an appalling cry was heard, concerning
which the passengers, as well as myself, were equally ignorant. The
whole crew were in motion. Some climbed the rope ladders, and seemed to
perch on the extremities of the yards; others mounted to the highest
parts of the mast; these bellowing and pulling certain cordages in
cadence; those crying, swearing, whistling, and filling the air with
barbarous and unknown sounds. The officer on duty, in his turn, roaring
out these words, starboard! larboard! hoist! luff! tack! which the
helmsman repeated in the same tone. All this hubbub, however, produced
its effect: the yards were turned on their pivots, the sails set, the
cordage tightened, and the unfortunate sea-boys having received their
lesson, descended to the deck. Every thing remained tranquil, except
that the waves still roared, and the masts continued their creaking.
However the sails were swelled, the winds less violent, though
favourable, and the mariner, whilst he caroled his song, said we had a
noble voyage.
During several days we did indeed enjoy a delightful passage. All the
ships of the expedition still kept together; but at length the breeze
became changeable, and they all disappeared. The Echo, however, still
kept in sight, and persisted in accompanying us, as if to guide us on
our route. The wind becoming more favourable, we held due south, sailing
at the rate of sixty-two leagues a day. The sea was so fine, and our
journey so rapid, that I began to think it nearly as agreeable to travel
by sea as by land; but my illusion was not of long duration.
On the 28th of June, at six in the morning, we discovered the Peak of
Teneriffe, towards the south, the summit of whose cone seemed lost among
the clouds. We were then distant about two leagues, which we made in
less than a quarter of an hour. At ten o'clock we brought to before the
town of St Croix. Several officers got leave to go on shore to procure
refreshments.
Whilst these gentlemen were away, a certain passenger, member of the
self-instituted Philanthropic Society of Cape Verd,[2] suggested that it
was very dangerous to remain where we were, adding that he was well
acquainted with the country, and had navigated in all these latitudes.
M. Le Roy Lachaumareys, Captain of the Medusa, believing the pretended
knowledge of the intriguing Richefort, gave him the command of the
frigate. Various officers of the navy, represented to the captain how
shameful it was to put such confidence in a stranger, and that they
would never obey a man who had no character as a commander. The captain
despised these wise remonstrances; and, using his authority, commanded
the pilots, and all the crew, to obey Richefort; saying he was king,
since the orders of the king were, that they should obey him.
Immediately the impostor, desirous of displaying his great skill in
navigation, made them change the route for no purpose but that of
showing his skill in manoeuvring a ship. Every instant he changed the
tack, went, came, and returned, and approached the very reefs, as if to
brave them. In short, he beat about so much, that the sailors at length
refused to obey him, saying boldly that he was a vile impostor. But it
was done. The man had gained the confidence of Captain Lachaumareys,
who, ignorant of navigation himself, was doubtless glad to get some one
to undertake his duty. But it must be told, and told, too, in the face
of all Europe, that this blind and inept confidence was the sole cause
of the loss of the Medusa frigate, as well as of all the crimes
consequent upon it.
[Footnote 2: This Society, which was so ill named _Philanthropic_,
was composed of sixty individuals of all nations, among whom
figured Hebrard, Correard,[3] Richefort, &c. They had obtained
from government a free passage, and authority to go and cultivate
the peninsula of Cape Verd; but that new colony afterwards ended
like that of Champ-d'Asile.]
[Footnote 3: Not that Correard, the coadjutor of Savigny,
mentioned in the Author's preface. _Trans._]
Towards three in the afternoon, those officers who had gone on shore in
the morning, returned on board loaded with vegetables, fruits, and
flowers. They laughed heartily at the manoeuvres that had been going on
during their absence, which doubtless did not please the captain, who
flattered himself he had already found in his pilot Richefort _a good
and able seaman_: such were his words. At four in the afternoon we took
a southerly direction. M. Richefort then beaming with exultation for
having, as he said, saved the Medusa from certain shipwreck, continued
to give his pernicious counsels to Captain Lachaumareys, persuading him
he had been often employed to explore the shores of Africa, and that he
was perfectly well acquainted with the Arguin Bank. The journals of the
29th and 30th afford nothing very remarkable.
The hot winds from the desert of Sahara began to be felt, which told us
we approached the tropic; indeed, the sun at noon seemed suspended
perpendicularly above our heads, a phenomenon which few among us had
ever seen.
On the 1st of July, we recognised Cape Bojador, and then saw the shores
of Sahara. Towards ten in the morning, they set about the frivolous
ceremony which the sailors have invented for the purpose of exacting
something from those passengers who have never crossed the line. During
the ceremony, the frigate doubled Cape Barbas, hastening to its
destruction. Captain Lachaumareys very good humouredly presided at this
species of baptism, whilst his dear Richefort promenaded the forecastle,
and looked with indifference upon a shore bristling with dangers.
However that may be, all passed on well; nay, it may be even said that
the farce was well played off. But the route which we pursued soon made
us forget the short-lived happiness we had experienced. Every one began
to observe the sudden change which had taken place in the colour of the
sea, as we ran upon the bank in shallow water. A general murmur rose
among the passengers and officers of the navy;--they were far from
partaking in the blind confidence of the captain.
On the 2d of July, at five in the morning, the captain was persuaded
that a large cloud, which was discovered in the direction of Cape
Blanco, was that Cape itself. After this pretended discovery, they ought
to have steered to the west, for about fifty leagues, to have gained sea
room to double with certainty the Arguin Bank; moreover, they ought to
have conformed to the instructions which the Minister of Marine had
given to the ships which set out for Senegal. The other part of the
expedition, from having followed these instructions arrived in safety at
their destination. During the preceding night, the Echo, which had
hitherto accompanied the Medusa, made several signals, but being replied
to with contempt, abandoned us. Towards ten in the morning, the danger
which threatened us was again represented to the Captain, and he was
strongly urged, if he wished to avoid the Arguin Bank, to take a
westerly course; but the advice was again neglected, and he despised the
predictions. One of the officers of the frigate, from having wished to
expose the intriguing Richefort, was put under arrest. My father, who
had already twice made the voyage to Senegal, and who with various
persons was persuaded they were going right upon the bank, also made his
observations to the unfortunate pilot. His advice was no better received
than those of Messrs Reynaud, Espiau, Maudet, &c. Richefort, in the
sweetest tone, replied, "My dear, we know our business; attend to yours,
and be quiet. I have already twice passed the Arguin Bank; I have sailed
upon the Red Sea, and you see I am not drowned." What reply could be
made to such a preposterous speech? My father, seeing it was impossible
to get our route changed, resolved to trust to Providence to free us
from our danger, and descended to our cabin, where he sought to
dissipate his fears in the oblivion of sleep.