THE CHIEFS OF THE EXPEDITION ORDER THE BOATS TO TAKE THE ROUTE
FOR SENEGAL--OBJECTIONS OF SOME GENEROUS OFFICERS--THE SHORES OF
THE DESERT OF SAHARA ARE DISCOVERED--IT IS DEFENDED--THE SAILORS
OF THE PINNACE ARE DESIROUS OF LANDING--THE BOAT IN WHICH THE
PICARD FAMILY IS LEAKS MUCH--UNHEARD-OF SUFFERINGS--TERRIBLE
SITUATION OF THE FAMILY--FRIGHTFUL TEMPEST--DESPAIR OF THE
PASSENGERS.
On the 5th of July, at ten in the morning, one hour after abandoning the
raft, and three after quitting the Medusa, M. Laperere, the officer of
our boat, made the first distribution of provisions. Each passenger had
a small glass of water and nearly the fourth of a biscuit. Each drank
his allowance of water at one draught, but it was found impossible to
swallow one morsel of our biscuit, it being so impregnated with
sea-water. It happened, however, that some was found not quite so
saturated. Of these we eat a small portion, and put back the remainder
for a future day. Our voyage would have been sufficiently agreeable, if
the beams of the sun had not been so fierce. On the evening we perceived
the shores of the Desert; but as the two chiefs (MM. Schmaltz and
Lachaumareys) wished to go right for Senegal, notwithstanding we were
still one hundred leagues from it, we were not allowed to land. Several
officers remonstrated, both on account of our want of provisions and the
crowded condition of the boats, for undertaking so dangerous a voyage.
Others urged with equal force, that it would be dishonouring the French
name, if we were to neglect the unfortunate people on the raft, and
insisted we should be set on shore, and whilst we waited there, three
boats should return to look after the raft, and three to the wrecks of
the frigate, to take up the seventeen who were left there, as well as a
sufficient quantity of provisions to enable us to go to Senegal by the
way of Barbary. But MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys, whose boats were
sufficiently well provisioned, scouted the advice of their subalterns,
and ordered them to cast anchor till the following morning. They were
obliged to obey these orders, and to relinquish their designs. During
the night, a certain passenger, who was doubtless no doctor, and who
believed in ghosts and witches, was suddenly frightened by the
appearance of flames, which he thought he saw in the waters of the sea,
a little way from where our boat was anchored. My father, and some
others, who were aware that the sea is sometimes phosphorated, confirmed
the poor credulous man in his belief, and added several circumstances
which fairly turned his brain. They persuaded him the Arabic sorcerers
had fired the sea to prevent us from travelling along their deserts.
On the morning of the 6th of July, at five o'clock, all the boats were
under way on the route to Senegal. The boats of MM. Schmaltz and
Lachaumareys took the lead along the coast, and all the expedition
followed. About eight, several sailors in our boat, with threats,
demanded to be set on shore; but M. Laperere, not acceding to their
request, the whole were about to revolt and seize the command; but the
firmness of this officer quelled the mutineers. In a spring which he
made to seize a firelock which a sailor persisted in keeping in his
possession, he almost tumbled into the sea. My father fortunately was
near him, and held him by his clothes, but he had instantly to quit him,
for fear of losing his hat, which the waves were floating away. A short
while after this slight accident, the shallop, which we had lost sight
of since the morning, appeared desirous of rejoining us. We plied all
hands to avoid her, for we were afraid of one another, and thought that
that boat, encumbered with so many people, wished to board us to oblige
us to take some of its passengers, as M. Espiau would not suffer them to
be abandoned like those upon the raft. That officer hailed us at a
distance, offering to take our family on board, adding, he was anxious
to take about sixty people to the Desert. The officer of our boat,
thinking that this was a pretence, replied, we preferred suffering where
we were. It even appeared to us that M. Espiau had hid some of his
people under the benches of the shallop. But, alas! in the end we deeply
deplored being so suspicious, and of having so outraged the devotion of
the most generous officer of the Medusa.
Our boat began to leak considerably, but we prevented it as well as we
could, by stuffing the largest holes with oakum, which an old sailor
had had the precaution to take before quitting the frigate. At noon the
heat became so strong--so intolerable, that several of us believed we
had reached our last moments. The hot winds of the Desert even reached
us; and the fine sand with which they were loaded, had completely
obscured the clearness of the atmosphere. The sun presented a reddish
disk; the whole surface of the ocean became nebulous, and the air which
we breathed, depositing a fine sand, an impalpable powder, penetrated to
our lungs, already parched with a burning thirst. In this state of
torment we remained till four in the afternoon, when a breeze from the
north-west brought us some relief. Notwithstanding the privations we
felt, and especially the burning thirst which had become intolerable,
the cool air which we now began to breath, made us in part forget our
sufferings. The heavens began again to resume the usual serenity of
those latitudes, and we hoped to have passed a good night. A second
distribution of provisions was made; each received a small glass of
water, and about the eighth part of a biscuit. Notwithstanding our
meagre fare, every one seemed content, in the persuasion we would reach
Senegal by the morrow. But how vain were all our hopes, and what
sufferings had we yet to endure!
At half past seven, the sky was covered with stormy clouds. The serenity
we had admired a little while before, entirely disappeared, and gave
place to the most gloomy obscurity. The surface of the ocean presented
all the signs of a coming tempest. The horizon on the side of the Desert
had the appearance of a long hideous chain of mountains piled on one
another, the summits of which seemed to vomit fire and smoke. Bluish
clouds, streaked with a dark copper colour, detached themselves from
that shapeless heap, and came and joined with those which floated over
our heads. In less than half an hour the ocean seemed confounded with
the terrible sky which canopied us. The stars were hid. Suddenly a
frightful noise was heard from the west, and all the waves of the sea
rushed to founder our frail bark. A fearful silence succeeded to the
general consternation. Every tongue was mute; and none durst communicate
to his neighbour the horror with which his mind was impressed. At
intervals the cries of the children rent our hearts. At that instant a
weeping and agonized mother bared her breast to her dying child, but it
yielded nothing to appease the thirst of the little innocent who pressed
it in vain. O night of horrors! what pen is capable to paint thy
terrible picture! How describe the agonizing fears of a father and
mother, at the sight of their children tossed about and expiring of
hunger in a small boat, which the winds and waves threatened to ingulf
at every instant! Having full before our eyes the prospect of inevitable
death, we gave ourselves up to our unfortunate condition, and addressed
our prayers to Heaven. The winds growled with the utmost fury; the
tempestuous waves arose exasperated. In their terrific encounter a
mountain of water was precipitated into our boat, carrying away one of
the sails, and the greater part of the effects which the sailors had
saved from the Medusa. Our bark was nearly sunk; the females and the
children lay rolling in its bottom, drinking the waters of bitterness;
and their cries, mixed with the roaring of the waves and the furious
north wind, increased the horrors of the scene. My unfortunate father
then experienced the most excruciating agony of mind. The idea of the
loss which the shipwreck had occasioned to him, and the danger which
still menaced all he held dearest in the world, plunged him into a deep
swoon. The tenderness of his wife and children recovered him; but alas!
his recovery was to still more bitterly to deplore the wretched
situation of his family. He clasped us to his bosom; he bathed us with
his tears, and seemed as if he was regarding us with his last looks of
love.
Every soul in the boat were seized with the same perturbation, but it
manifested itself in different ways. One part of the sailors remained
motionless, in a bewildered state; the other cheered and encouraged one
another; the children, locked in the arms of their parents, wept
incessantly. Some demanded drink, vomiting the salt water which choked
them; others, in short, embraced as for the last time, intertwining
their arms, and vowing to die together.
In the meanwhile the sea became rougher and rougher. The whole surface
of the ocean seemed a vast plain furrowed with huge blackish waves
fringed with white foam. The thunder growled around us, and the
lightning discovered to our eyes all that our imagination could conceive
most horrible. Our boat, beset on all sides by the winds, and at every
instant tossed on the summit of mountains of water, was very nearly sunk
in spite of our every effort in baling it, when we discovered a large
hole in its poop. It was instantly stuffed with every thing we could
find;--old clothes, sleeves of shirts, shreds of coats, shawls, useless
bonnets, every thing was employed, and secured us as far as it was
possible. During the space of six hours, we rowed suspended alternately
between hope and fear, between life and death. At last towards the
middle of the night, Heaven, which had seen our resignation, commanded
the floods to be still. Instantly the sea became less rough, the veil
which covered the sky became less obscure, the stars again shone out,
and the tempest seemed to withdraw. A general exclamation of joy and
thankfulness issued at one instant from every mouth. The winds calmed,
and each of us sought a little sleep, whilst our good and generous pilot
steered our boat on a still very stormy sea.
The day at last, the day so desired, entirely restored the calm; but it
brought no other consolation. During the night, the currents, the waves,
and the winds had taken us so far out to sea, that, on the dawning of
the 7th of July, we saw nothing but sky and water, without knowing
whether to direct our course; for our compass had been broken during the
tempest. In this hopeless condition, we continued to steer sometimes to
the right and sometimes to the left, until the sun arose, and at last
showed us the east.