THE MEDUSA FRIGATE RUNS AGROUND ON THE ARGUIN BANK--DESCRIPTION
OF THE SHIPWRECK--A RAFT IS CONSTRUCTED--THEY SWEAR NOT TO
ABANDON THOSE WHO WISH TO GO UPON IT.
At noon, on the 2d of July, soundings were taken. M. Maudet, ensign of
the watch, was convinced we were upon the edge of the Arguin Bank. The
Captain said to him, as well as to every one, that there was no cause of
alarm. In the mean while, the wind blowing with great violence, impelled
us nearer and nearer to the danger which menaced us. A species of stupor
overpowered all our spirits, and every one preserved a mournful silence,
as if they were persuaded we would soon touch the bank. The colour of
the water entirely changed, a circumstance even remarked by the ladies.
About three in the afternoon, being in 19 deg. 30' north latitude, and 19 deg.
45' west longitude, an universal cry was heard upon deck. All declared
they saw sand rolling among the ripple of the sea. The Captain in an
instant ordered to sound. The line gave eighteen fathoms; but on a
second sounding it only gave six. He at last saw his error, and
hesitated no longer on changing the route, but it was too late. A strong
concussion told us the frigate had struck. Terror and consternation were
instantly depicted on every face. The crew stood motionless; the
passengers in utter despair. In the midst of this general panic, cries
of vengeance were heard against the principal author of our misfortunes,
wishing to throw him overboard; but some generous persons interposed,
and endeavoured to calm their spirits, by diverting their attention to
the means of our safety. The confusion was already so great, that M.
Poinsignon, commandant of a troop, struck my sister Caroline a severe
blow, doubtless thinking it was one of his soldiers. At this crisis my
father was buried in profound sleep, but he quickly awoke, the cries and
the tumult upon deck having informed him of our misfortunes. He poured
out a thousand reproaches on those whose ignorance and boasting had been
so disastrous to us. However, they set about the means of averting our
danger. The officers, with an altered voice, issued their orders,
expecting every moment to see the ship go in pieces. They strove to
lighten her, but the sea was very rough and the current strong. Much
time was lost in doing nothing; they only pursued half measures, and all
of them unfortunately failed.
When it was discovered that the danger of the Medusa was not so great as
was at first supposed, various persons proposed to transport the troops
to the island of Arguin, which was conjectured to be not far from the
place where we lay aground. Others advised to take us all successively
to the coast of the desert of Sahara, by the means of our boats, and
with provisions sufficient to form a caravan, to reach the island of
Saint Louis, at Senegal. The events which afterwards ensued proved this
plan to have been the best, and which would have been crowned with
success; unfortunately it was not adopted. M. Schmaltz, the governor,
suggested the making of a raft of a sufficient size to carry two hundred
men, with provisions: which latter plan was seconded by the two officers
of the frigate, and put in execution.
The fatal raft was then begun to be constructed, which would, they said,
carry provisions for every one. Masts, planks, boards, cordage, were
thrown over board. Two officers were charged with the framing of these
together. Large barrels were emptied and placed at the angles of the
machine, and the workmen were taught to say, that the passengers would
be in greater security there, and more at their ease, than in the boats.
However, as it was forgotten to erect rails, every one supposed, and
with reason, that those who had given the plan of the raft, had had no
design of embarking upon it themselves.
When it was completed, the two chief officers of the frigate publicly
promised, that all the boats would tow it to the shore of the Desert;
and, when there, stores of provisions and fire-arms would be given us to
form a caravan to take us all to Senegal. Why was not this plan
executed? Why were these promises, sworn before the French flag, made in
vain? But it is necessary to draw a veil over the past. I will only add,
that if these promises had been fulfilled, every one would have been
saved, and that, in spite of the detestable egotism of certain
personages, humanity would not now have had to deplore the scenes of
horror consequent on the wreck of the Medusa!
On the 3d of July, the efforts were renewed to disengage the frigate,
but without success. We then prepared to quit her. The sea became very
rough, and the wind blew with great violence. Nothing now was heard but
the plaintive and confused cries of a multitude, consisting of more than
four hundred persons, who, seeing death before their eyes, deplored
their hard fate in bitter lamentations. On the 4th, there was a glimpse
of hope. At the hour the tide flowed, the frigate, being considerably
lightened by all that had been thrown over board, was found nearly
afloat; and it is very certain, if on that day they had thrown the
artillery into the water, the Medusa would have been saved; but M.
Lachaumareys said, he could not thus sacrifice the King's cannon, as if
the frigate did not belong to the King also. However, the sea ebbed, and
the ship sinking into the sand deeper than ever, made them relinquish
that on which depended our last ray of hope.
On the approach of night, the fury of the winds redoubled, and the sea
became very rough. The frigate then received some tremendous
concussions, and the water rushed into the hold in the most terrific
manner, but the pumps would not work. We had now no alternative but to
abandon her for the frail boats, which any single wave would overwhelm.
Frightful gulfs environed us; mountains of water raised their liquid
summits in the distance. How were we to escape so many dangers? Whither
could we go? What hospitable land would receive us on its shores? My
thoughts, then reverted to our beloved country. I did not regret Paris,
but I could have esteemed myself happy to have been yet in the marshes
on the road to Rochefort. Then starting suddenly from my reverie, I
exclaimed: "O terrible condition! that black and boundless sea resembles
the eternal night which will ingulf us! All those who surround me seem
yet tranquil; but that fatal calm will soon be succeeded by the most
frightful torments. Fools, what had we to find in Senegal, to make us
trust to the most perfidious of elements! Did France not afford every
necessary for our happiness? Happy! yes, thrice happy, they who never
set foot on a foreign soil! Great God! succour all these unfortunate
beings; save our unhappy family!"
My father perceived my distress, but how could he console me? What words
could calm my fears, and place me above the apprehension of those
dangers to which we were exposed? How, in a word, could I assume a
serene appearance, when friends, parents, and all that was most dear to
me were, in all human probability, on the very verge of destruction?
Alas! my fears were but too well founded. For I soon perceived that,
although we were the only ladies, besides the Misses Schmaltz, who
formed a part of the Governor's suit, they had the barbarity of
intending our family to embark upon the raft, where were only soldiers,
sailors, planters of Cape Verd, and some generous officers who had not
the honour (if it could be accounted one) of being considered among the
ignorant confidents of MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys. My father,
indignant at a proceeding so indecorous, swore we would not embark upon
the raft, and that, if we were not judged worthy of a place in one of
the six boats, he would himself, his wife, and children, remain on board
the wrecks of the frigate. The tone in which he spoke these words, was
that of a man resolute to avenge any insult that might be offered to
him. The governor of Senegal, doubtless fearing the world would one day
reproach him for his inhumanity, decided we should have a place in one
of the boats. This having in some measure quieted our fears concerning
our unfortunate situation, I was desirous of taking some repose, but the
uproar among the crew was so great I could not obtain it.
Towards midnight, a passenger came to inquire at my father if we were
disposed to depart; he replied, we had been forbid to go yet. However,
we were soon convinced that a great part of the crew and various
passengers were secretly preparing to set off in the boats. A conduct so
perfidious could not fail to alarm us, especially as we perceived among
those so eager to embark unknown to us, several who had promised, but a
little while before, not to go without us.
M. Schmaltz, to prevent that which was going on upon deck, instantly
rose to endeavour to quiet their minds; but the soldiers had already
assumed a threatening attitude, and, holding cheap the words of their
commander, swore they would fire upon whosoever attempted to depart in a
clandestine manner. The firmness of these brave men produced the desired
effect, and all was restored to order. The governor returned to his
cabin; and those who were desirous of departing furtively were confused
and covered with shame. The governor, however, was ill at ease; and as
he had heard very distinctly certain energetic words which had been
addressed to him, he judged it proper to assemble a council. All the
officers and passengers being collected, M. Schmaltz there solemnly
swore before them not to abandon the raft, and a second time promised,
that all the boats would tow it to the shore of the Desert, where they
would all be formed into a caravan. I confess this conduct of the
governor greatly satisfied every member of our family; for we never
dreamed he would deceive us, nor act in a manner contrary to what he had
promised.