The soldiers and sailors, terrified by the presence of an almost inevitable danger, gave themselves up for lost. Firmly believing that they were going to be swallowed up, they resolved to soothe their last moments by drinking till they lost the use of their reason; we had not strength to oppose this disorder; they fell upon a cask which was at the middle of the raft, made a large hole at one end, and with little tin cups which they had brought from on board the frigate, they each took a pretty large quantity, but they were soon obliged to desist, because the sea water entered by the hole which they had made.

The fumes of the wine soon disordered their brains, already affected by the presence of danger and want of food. Thus inflamed, these men, become deaf to the voice of reason, desired to implicate, in one common destruction, their companions in misfortune; they openly expressed their intention to rid themselves of the officers, who they said, wished to oppose their design, and then to destroy the raft by cutting the ropes which united the different parts that composed it. A moment after, they were proceeding to put this plan in execution. One of them advanced to the edge of the raft with a boarding-axe, and began to strike the cords: this was the signal for revolt: we advanced in order to stop these madmen: he who was armed with the axe, with which he even threatened an officer, was the first victim: a blow with a sabre put an end to his existence. This man was an Asiatic, and soldier in a colonial regiment: a colossal stature, short curled hair, an extremely large nose, an enormous mouth, a sallow complexion, gave him a hideous air. He had placed himself, at first, in the middle of the raft, and at every blow of his fist he overthrew those who stood in his way; he inspired the greatest terror, and nobody dared to approach him. If there had been half-a-dozen like him, our destruction would have been inevitable.

Some persons, desirous of prolonging their existence, joined those who wished to preserve the raft, and armed themselves: of this number were some subaltern officers and many passengers. The mutineers drew their sabres, and those who had none, armed themselves with knives: they advanced resolutely against us; we put ourselves on our defence: the attack was going to begin. Animated by despair, one of the mutineers lifted his sabre against an officer; he immediately fell, pierced with wounds. This firmness awed them a moment; but did not at all diminish their rage. They ceased to threaten us, and presenting a front bristling with sabres and bayonets, they retired to the back part, to execute their plan. One of them pretended to rest himself on the little railing which formed the sides of the raft, and with a knife began to cut the cords. Being informed by a servant, we rushed upon him—a soldier attempted to defend him—threatened an officer with his knife, and in attempting to strike him, only pierced his coat—the officer turned round—overpowered his adversary, and threw both him and his comrade into the sea!

After this there were no more partial affairs: the combat became general. Some cried lower the sail; a crowd of madmen instantly threw themselves on the yards and the shrouds, and cut the stays, and let the mast fall, and nearly broke the thigh of a captain of foot, who fell senseless. He was seized by the soldiers, who threw him into the sea: we perceived it—saved him, and placed him on a barrel, from which he was taken by the seditious; who were going to cut out his eyes with a penknife. Exasperated by so many cruelties, we no longer kept any measures, and charged them furiously. With our sabres drawn we traversed the lines which the soldiers formed, and many atoned with their lives for a moment of delusion. Several passengers displayed much courage and coolness in these cruel moments.

Mr. Correard was fallen into a kind of trance, but hearing every moment cries of "To arms! To us, comrades! We are undone!" joined to the cries and imprecations of the wounded and the dying, he was soon roused from his lethargy. The increasing confusion made him sensible that it was necessary to be upon his guard. Armed with his sabre, he assembled some of his workmen on the front of the raft, and forbid them to hurt any one unless they were attacked. He remained almost always with them, and they had several times to defend themselves against the attacks of the mutineers; who falling into the sea, returned by the front of the raft; which placed Mr. Correard and his little troop between two dangers, and rendered their position very difficult to be defended. Every moment men presented themselves, armed with knives, sabres and bayonets; many had carbines, which they used as clubs. The workmen did their utmost to stop them, by presenting the point of their sabres; and, notwithstanding the repugnance they felt to combat their unhappy countrymen, they were however obliged to use their arms without reserve; because many of the mutineers attacked them with fury, it was necessary to repulse them in the same manner. In this action some of the workmen received large wounds; he who commanded them reckons a great number, which he received in the various combats they had to maintain. At last their united efforts succeeded in dispersing the masses that advanced furiously against them.

During this combat, Mr. Correard was informed, by one of his workmen who 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. Correard, 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. Correard, 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. Correard, 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. Correard, 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 Rhe. 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, Correard, 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. Correard 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. Correard 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. Correard 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. Correard) 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.

Some Spaniards, Italians, and Negroes, who had remained neuter in the first mutiny, and some of whom had even ranged themselves on our side,[26] formed a plot to throw us all into the sea, hoping to execute their design by falling on us by surprise. These wretches suffered themselves to be persuaded by the negroes, who assured them that the coast was extremely near, and promised, that when they were once on shore, they would enable them to traverse Africa without danger. The desire of saving themselves, or perhaps the wish to seize on the money and valuables, which had been put into a bag, hung to the mast,[27] had inflamed the imagination of these unfortunate wretches. We were obliged to take our arms again; but how were we to discover the guilty? they were pointed out to us, by our sailors, who remained faithful, and ranged themselves near us; one of them had refused to engage in the plot. The first signal, for combat, was given by a Spaniard, who, placing himself behind the mast, laid fast hold of it, made the sign of the Cross with one hand, invoking the name of God, and held a knife in the other: the sailors seized him, and threw him into the sea. The servant of an officer of the troops on board was in the plot. He was an Italian from the light artillery of the Ex-King of his country. When he perceived that the plot was discovered, he armed himself with the last boarding-axe that there was on the raft, wrapped himself in a piece of drapery, which he wore folded over his breast, and, of his own accord, threw himself into the sea. The mutineers rushed forward to avenge their comrades, a terrible combat again ensued, and both sides fought with desperate fury. Soon the fatal raft was covered with dead bodies, and flowing with blood which, ought to have been shed in another cause, and by other hands. In this tumult cries, with which we were familiar, were renewed, and we heard the imprecations of the horrid rage which demanded the head of Lieutenant Danglas! Our readers know that we could not satisfy this mad rage, because the victim, demanded, had fled the dangers to which we were exposed; but even if this officer had remained among us, we should most certainly have defended his life at the expence of our own, as we did that of Lieutenant Lozach. But it was not for him that we were reduced to exert, against these madmen, all the courage we possessed.

We again replied to the cries of the assailants, that he whom they demanded was not with us; but we had no more success in persuading them; nothing could make them recollect themselves; we were obliged to continue to combat them, and to oppose force to those over whom reason had lost all its influence. In this confusion the unfortunate woman was, a second time, thrown into the sea. We perceived it, and Mr. Coudin, assisted by some workmen, took her up again, to prolong, for a few moments, her torments and her existence.

In this horrible night, Lavillette gave further proofs of the rarest intrepidity. It was to him, and to some of those who have escaped the consequences of our misfortunes, that we are indebted for our safety. At length, after unheard-of efforts, the mutineers were again repulsed, and tranquillity restored. After we had escaped this new danger, we endeavoured to take some moment's repose. The day at length rose on us for the fifth time. We were now only thirty left; we had lost four or five of our faithful sailors; those who survived were in the most deplorable state; the sea-water had almost entirely excoriated our lower extremities; we were covered with contusions or wounds, which, irritated by the salt-water, made us utter every moment piercing cries; so that there were not above twenty of us who were able to stand upright or walk. Almost our whole stock was exhausted; we had no more wine than was sufficient for four days, and we had not above a dozen fish left. In four days, said we, we shall be in want of every thing, and death will be unavoidable. Thus arrived the seventh day since we had been abandoned; we calculated that, in case the boats had not stranded on the coast, they would want, at least, three or four times twenty-four hours to reach St. Louis. Time was further required to equip ships, and for these ships to find us; we resolved to hold out as long as possible. In the course of the day, two soldiers slipped behind the only barrel of wine we had left; they had bored a hole in it, and were drinking by means of a reed; we had all sworn, that he who should employ such means should be punished with death. This law was instantly put in execution, and the two trespassers were thrown into the sea.[28]

This same day terminated the existence of a child, twelve years of age, named Leon; he died away like a lamp which ceases to burn for want of aliment. Every thing spoke in favor of this amiable young creature, who merited a better fate. His angelic countenance, his melodious voice, the interest inspired by his youth, which was increased by the courage he had shown, and the services he had performed, for he had already made, in the preceding year, a campaign in the East Indies, all this filled us with the tenderest interest for this young victim, devoted to a death so dreadful and premature. Our old soldiers, and our people in general, bestowed upon him all the care which they thought calculated to prolong his existence. It was in vain; his strength, at last, forsook him. Neither the wine, which we gave him without regret, nor all the means which could be employed, could rescue him from his sad fate; he expired in the arms of Mr. Coudin, who had not ceased to shew him the kindest attention. As long as the strength of this young marine had allowed him to move, he ran continually from one side to the other, calling, with loud cries, for his unhappy mother, water, and food. He walked, without discrimination, over the feet and legs of his companions in misfortune, who, in their turn, uttered cries of anguish, which were every moment repeated. But their complaints were very seldom accompanied by menaces; they pardoned every thing in the poor youth, who had caused them. Besides, he was, in fact, in a state of mental derangement, and in his uninterrupted alienation he could not be expected to behave, as if he had still retained some use of reason.

We were now only twenty-seven remaining; of this number but fifteen seemed likely to live some days: all the rest, covered with large wounds, had almost entirely lost their reason; yet they had a share in the distribution of provisions, and might, before their death, consume thirty or forty bottles of wine, which were of inestimable value to us. We deliberated thus: to put the sick on half allowance would have been killing them by inches. So after a debate, at which the most dreadful despair presided, it was resolved to throw them into the sea. This measure, however repugnant it was to ourselves, procured the survivors wine for six days; when the decision was made, who would dare to execute it? The habit of seeing death ready to pounce upon us as his prey, the certainly of our infallible destruction, without this fatal expedient, every thing in a word, had hardened our hearts, and rendered them callous to all feeling except that of self preservation. Three sailors and a soldier took on themselves this cruel execution: we turned our faces aside, and wept tears of blood over the fate of these unhappy men. Among them were the unfortunate woman and her husband. Both of them had been severely wounded in the various combats: the woman had a thigh broken between the pieces of wood composing the raft, and her husband had received a deep wound with a sabre on his head. Every thing announced their speedy dissolution. We must seek to console ourselves, by the belief, that our cruel resolution shortened, but for a few moments only, the measure of their existence.

This French woman, to whom soldiers and Frenchmen gave the sea for a tomb, had partaken for twenty years in the glorious fatigues of our armies; for twenty years she had afforded to the brave, on the field of battle, either the assistance which they needed, or soothing consolations ... It is in the midst of her friends; it is by the hands of her friends ... Readers, who shudder at the cry of outraged humanity, recollect at least, that it was other men, fellow countrymen, comrades, who had placed us in this horrible situation.

This dreadful expedient saved the fifteen who remained; for, when we were found by the Argus, we had very little wine left, and it was the sixth day after the cruel sacrifice which we have just described: the victims, we repeat it, had not above forty-eight hours to live, and by keeping them on the raft, we should absolutely have been destitute of the means of existence two days before we were found. Weak as we were, we considered it as certain that it would have been impossible for us to hold out, even twenty-four hours, without taking some food. After this catastrophe, which inspired us with a degree of horror not to be overcome, we threw the arms into the sea; we reserved, however, one sabre in case it should be wanted to cut a rope or piece of wood.

After all this, we had scarcely sufficient food on the raft, to last for the six days, and they were the most wretched immaginable. Our dispositions had become soured: even in sleep, we figured to ourselves the sad end of all our unhappy companions, and we loudly invoked death.

A new event, for every thing was an event for wretches for whom the universe was reduced to a flooring of a few toises in extent, who were the sport of the winds and waves, as they hung suspended over the abyss; an event then happened which happily diverted our attention from the horrors of our situation. All at once a white butterfly, of the species so common in France, appeared fluttering over our heads, and settled on our sail. The first idea which, as it were, inspired each of us made us consider this little animal as the harbinger, which brought us the news of a speedy approach to land, and we snatched at this hope with a kind of delirium of joy. But it was the ninth day that we passed upon the raft; the torments of hunger consumed our entrails; already some of the soldiers and sailors devoured, with haggard eyes, this wretched prey, and seemed ready to dispute it with each other. Others considered this butterfly as a messenger of heaven, declared that they took the poor insect under their protection, and hindered any injury being done to it. We turned our wishes and our eyes towards the land, which we so ardently longed for, and which we every moment fancied we saw rise before us. It is certain that we could not be far from it: for the butterflies continued, on the following days, to come and flutter about our sail, and the same day we had another sign equally positive: for we saw a (goeland) flying over our raft. This second visitor did not allow us to doubt of our being very near to the African shore, and we persuaded ourselves that we should soon be thrown upon the coast by the force of the currents. How often did we then, and in the following days, invoke a tempest to throw us on the coast, which, it seemed to us, we were on the point of touching.

The hope which had just penetrated the inmost recesses of our souls, revived our enfeebled strength, and inspired us with an ardour, an activity, of which we should not have thought ourselves capable. We again had recourse to all the means which we had before employed, to catch fish. Above all, we eagerly longed for the (goeland), which appeared several times tempted to settle on the end of our machine. The impatience of our desire increased, when we saw several of its companions join it, and keep following us till our deliverance; but all attempts to draw them to us were in vain; not one of them suffered itself to be taken by the snares we had laid for them. Thus our destiny, on the fatal raft, was to be incessantly tossed between transitory illusions and continued torments, and we never experienced an agreeable sensation without being, in a manner, condemned to atone for it, by the anguish of some new suffering, by the irritating pangs of hope always deceived.

Another care employed us this day; as soon as we were reduced to a small number, we collected the little strength we had remaining; we loosened some planks on the front of the raft, and with some pretty long pieces of wood, raised in the center a kind of platform, on which we reposed: all the effects which we had been able to collect, were placed upon it, and served to render it less hard; besides, they hindered the sea from passing with so much facility through the intervals between the different pieces of the raft; but the waves came across, and sometimes covered us entirely.

It was on this new theatre that we resolved to await death in a manner worthy of Frenchmen, and with perfect resignation. The most adroit among us, to divert our thoughts, and to make the time pass with more rapidity, got their comrades to relate to us their passed triumphs, and sometimes, to draw comparisons between the hardships they had undergone in their glorious campaigns, and the distresses we endured upon our raft. The following is what Lavillette the serjeant of artillery told us: "I have experienced, in my various naval campaigns, all the fatigues, all the privations and all the dangers, which it is possible to meet with at sea, but none of my past sufferings, is comparable to the extreme pain and privations which I endure here. In my last campaigns in 1813 and 1814, in Germany and France, I shared all the fatigues which were alternately caused us by victory and retreat, I was at the glorious days of Lutzen, Bautzen, Dresden, Leipzig, Hanau, Montmirail, Champaubert, Montereau," &c. "Yes," continued he, "all that I suffered in so many forced marches, and in the midst of the privations which were the consequences of them, was nothing in comparison with what I endure on this frightful machine. In those days, when the French valour shewed itself in all its lustre, and always worthy of a free people, I had hardly anything to fear, but during the battle; but here, I often have the same dangers, and what is more dreadful, I have to combat Frenchmen and comrades. I have to contend, besides, with hunger and thirst, with a tempestuous sea, full of dangerous monsters, and with the ardour of a burning sun, which is not the least of our enemies. Covered with ancient scars and fresh wounds, which I have no means of dressing, it is physically impossible for me to save myself from this extreme danger, if it should be prolonged for a few days."

The sad remembrance of the critical situation of our country also mingled with our grief; and certainly, of all the afflictions we experienced, this was not the least, to us, who had almost all of us left it, only that we might no longer be witnesses of the hard laws, of the afflicting dependence, under which, it is bowed down by enemies jealous of our glory and of our power. These thoughts, we do not fear to say so, and to boast of it, afflicted us still more than the inevitable death which we were almost certain of meeting on our raft. Several of us regretted not having fallen in the defence of France. At least, said they, if it had been possible for us to measure our strength once more, with the enemies of our independence, and our liberty! Others found some consolation in the death which awaited us, because we should no longer have to groan under the shameful yoke which oppresses the country. Thus passed the last days of our abode on the raft. Our time was almost wholly employed in speaking of our unhappy country: all our wishes, our last prayers were for the happiness of France.

During the first days and nights of our being abandoned, the weather was very cold, but we bore the immersion pretty well; and during the last nights that we passed on the raft, every time that a wave rolled over us, it produced a very disagreeable sensation, and made us utter plaintive cries, so that each of us employed means to avoid it: some raised their heads, by means of pieces of wood, and made with whatever they could find a kind of parapet, against which the wave broke: others sheltered themselves behind empty casks which were placed across, along side each other; but these means often proved insufficient; it was only when the sea was very calm that it did not break over us.

A raging thirst, which was redoubled in the daytime by the beams of a burning sun, consumed us: it was such, that we eagerly moistened our parched lips with urine, which we cooled in little tin cups. We put the cup in a place where there was a little water, that the urine might cool the sooner; it often happened that these cups were stolen from those who had thus prepared them. The cup was returned, indeed, to him to whom it belonged, but not till the liquid which it contained was drank. Mr. Savigny observed that the urine of sum of us was more agreeable than that of others. There was a passenger who could never prevail on himself to swallow it: in reality, it had not a disagreeable taste; but in some of us it became thick, and extraordinarily acrid: it produced an effect truly worthy of remark: namely, that it was scarcely swallowed, when it excited an inclination to urine anew. We also tried to quench our thirst by drinking sea-water. Mr. Griffon, the governor's secretary, used it continually, he drank ten or twelve glasses in succession. But all these means only diminished our thirst to render it more severe a moment afterwards.

An officer of the army, found by chance, a little lemon, and it may be imagined how valuable this fruit must be to him; he, in fact, reserved it entirely for himself; his comrades, notwithstanding the most pressing entreaties, could not obtain any of it; already emotions of rage were rising in every heart, and if he had not partly yielded to those who surrounded him, they would certainly have taken it from him by force, and he would have perished, the victim of his selfishness. We also disputed for about thirty cloves of garlic, which had been found accidentally in a little bag: all these disputes were generally accompanied with violent threats, and if they had been protracted we should, perhaps, have come to the last extremities.

We had found, also, two little phials which contained a spirituous liquor to clean the teeth; he who possessed them, kept them carefully, and made many difficulties to give one or two drops of this liquid in the hollow of the hand. This liquor, which we believe was an essence of guiacum, cinnamon, cloves, and other aromatic substances, produced on our tongues a delightful sensation, and removed for a few moments the thirst which consumed us. Some of us found pieces of pewter, which, being put into the mouth produced a kind of coolness.

One of the means generally employed, was to put some sea-water into a hat, with which we washed our faces for some time, recurring to it at intervals; we also moistened our hair with it, and held our hands plunged in the water.[29] Misfortune rendered us ingenious, and every one thought of a thousand means to alleviate his sufferings; extenuated by the most cruel privations, the smallest agreeable sensation was to us a supreme happiness; thus we eagerly sought a little empty phial, which one of us possessed, and which had formerly contained essence of roses: as soon as we could get hold of it we inhaled, with delight, the perfume which issued from it, and which communicated to our senses the most soothing impressions. Some of us reserved our portion of wine in little tin cups, and sucked up the wine with a quill; this manner of taking it was very beneficial to us, and quenched our thirst much more than if we had drunk it off at once. Even the smell of this liquor was extremely agreeable to us. Mr. Savigny observed that many of us, after having taken their small portion, fell into a state approaching to intoxication, and that there was always more discord among us after the distribution had been made.

The following is one instance, among many, which we could adduce. The tenth day of our being on the raft, after a distribution of wine, Messrs. Clairet, Coudin, Charlot, and one or two of our sailors, conceived the strange idea of destroying themselves, first intoxicating themselves with what remained in our barrel. In vain Captain Dupont, seconded by Messrs. Lavillette, Savigny, Lheureux, and all the others, opposed their purpose by urgent remonstrances, and by all the firmness of which they were capable—their disordered brains persisted in the mad idea which governed them, and a new combat was on the point of commencing; however, after infinite trouble, we were beginning to bring back Messrs. Clairet and Coudin to the use of their reason; or rather he who watched over us dispelled this fatal quarrel, by turning our attention to the new danger which threatened us, at the moment when cruel discord was, perhaps, about to break out among wretches already a prey to so many other evils—it was a number of sharks which came and surrounded our raft. They approached so near, that we were able to strike them with our sabre, but we could not subdue one of them, notwithstanding the goodness of the weapon we possessed, and the ardour with which the brave Lavillette made use of it. The blows which he struck these monsters, made them replunge into the sea; but a few seconds after, they re-appeared upon the surface, and did not seem at all alarmed at our presence. Their backs rose about 30 centimetres above the water: several of them appeared to us to be at least 10 metres in length.

Three days passed in inexpressible anguish; we despised life to such a degree that many of us did not fear to bathe in sight of the sharks which surrounded our raft; others placed themselves naked on the front part of our machine which was still submerged: these means diminished, a little, their burning thirst. A kind of polypus (mollusques),[30] known by seamen under the name of galere, was frequently driven in great numbers on our raft, and when their long arms clung to our naked bodies, they caused us the most cruel sufferings. Will it be believed, that amidst these dreadful scenes, struggling with inevitable death, some of us indulged in pleasantries which excited a smile, notwithstanding the horror of our situation? One, among others said, joking, "If the brig is sent to look for us, let us pray to God that she may have the eyes of Argus," alluding to the name of the vessel, which we presumed would be sent after us. This consolatory idea did not quit us an instant, and we spoke of it frequently.

During the day of the 16th, reckoning ourselves to be very near land, eight of the most determined of us, resolved to try to reach the coast: we unfastened a strong fish of a mast,[31] which made part of the little parapet of which we have spoken, we fixed boards to it at intervals, transversely, by means of great nails, to hinder it from upsetting; a little mast and sail were fixed in the front; we intended to provide ourselves with oars made of barrel staves, cut out with the only sabre we had remaining: we cut pieces of rope, we split them, and made smaller ropes, that were more easy to manage: a hammock cloth, which was by chance on the raft, served for a sail; the dimensions of which, might be about 130 centimetres in breadth and 160 in length: the transverse diameter of the fish was 60 or 70 centimetres, and its length about 12 metres. A certain portion of wine was assigned to us, and our departure fixed for the next day, the 17th. When our machine was finished, it remained to make a trial of it: a sailor wanting to pass from the front to the back of it, finding the mast in his way, set his foot on one of the cross boards; the weight of his body made it upset, and this accident proved to us the temerity of our enterprise. It was then resolved that we should all await death in our present situation; the cable winch fastened the machine to our raft, was made loose, and it drifted away. It is very certain that if we had ventured upon this second raft, weak as we were, we should not have been able to hold out six hours, with our legs in the water, and thus obliged continually to row.

Mean time the night came, and its gloomy shades revived in our minds the most afflicting thoughts; we were convinced that there were not above twelve or fifteen bottles of wine left in our barrel. We began to feel an invincible disgust at the flesh which had till then, scarcely supported us; and we may say that the sight of it inspired us with a sentiment of terror, which was doubtless produced by the idea of approaching destruction.

On the 17th, in the morning, the sun appeared entirely free from clouds; 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. Correard, 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. Correard, 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, eleve 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. Francois, Hospital Keeper; In the Indies. Jean Charles, black Soldier; Dead. Correard, 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, eleve of the marine: and in the captain's barge, Mr. Rang,[32] also an eleve 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.

During their progress, they had to struggle with the most dreadful extremes of hunger and thirst; the latter was such, that the first time that several of them discovered water in the desert, such selfishness was manifested that those who had found these beneficent springs, knelt down four or five together, near the hole which they had just dug, and there, with their eyes fixed on the water, made signs to their comrades not to approach them; that they had found the springs, and that they alone had a right to drink at them; it was not till after the most urgent supplications that they granted a little water to their wretched companions, who were consumed by a raging thirst. When they met with any Moors, they obtained some assistance from them; but these barbarians carried their inhumanity so far as to refuse to shew them the springs which are scattered along the shore: sordid avarice made them act in this manner to these unhappy people; for when the latter had passed a well, the Moors drew water from it, which they sold to them at a gourd for a glass; they exacted the same price for a small handful of millet. When the brig approached the coast, to assist these unfortunate men, a great many of the natives of the country immediately crowned the heights; their number was so great, that it caused some fear in the French, who immediately formed, in order of battle, under the command of a captain of infantry. Two officers went to ask the chiefs of the Moors what were their intentions? whether they desired peace or war? They gave the officers to understand that far from wishing to act as enemies, they were willing to afford the shipwrecked people all the assistance in their power; but these barbarians shewed, on all occasions, a perfidiousness which is peculiar to the inhabitants of these climates; when the brig had sent biscuit on shore, they seized the half of it, and a few moments after, sold it at an exorbitant price, to those from whom they had stolen it. If they met with any soldiers or sailors who had had the imprudence to stray from the main body, they stripped them entirely, and then ill treated them; it was only numbers united, which, inspiring them with fear, that did not receive any insult from them; besides, there exists between the chiefs of these tribes and the government of the Isle of St. Louis, a treaty, in which it is stipulated that a large reward shall be given to the Moors, who meet in the desert with persons that have been shipwrecked, and bring them to the European factory: these barbarians were therefore induced by their interest, and if they brought back those who went astray, it was only in hope of obtaining a reward.

The women and young children inspired the greatest pity. These feeble beings could not put their delicate feet on the burning sands, and were besides incapable of walking for any length of time. The officers themselves assisted the children, and carried them in turn: their example induced others to imitate them; but having met with some Moors, who never travel in these deserts without having their camels and their asses with them, all that were not able to walk, mounted these animals: to obtain this indulgence, it was necessary to pay two gourds for a day; so that it was impossible for Mr. Picard, who had a numerous family, to bear so great an expence: his respectable young ladies were therefore obliged to walk.

One day at noon, which was the hour for halting, the eldest of these young ladies, exhausted with fatigue, withdrew to a solitary place to take some moments rest. She fell asleep upon the beach; to guard herself from the mosquitoes, she had covered her breast and face with a large shawl. While every body was sleeping, one of the Moors who served as guides, either from curiosity, or some other motive, approached her softly, attentively examined her appearance, and not content with this, lifting up the shawl, looked at her with fixed eyes, remained for a few moments like one profoundly astonished, approached her then very near, but did not venture to touch her. After having looked at her for some time, he let fall the veil, and returned to his place, where he joyfully related to his comrades what he had just seen. Several Frenchmen who had perceived the Moor, informed Mr. Picard, who resolved, on the obliging offers of the officers, to dress these ladies in a military dress, which, for the future, prevented all attempts of the inhabitants of the desert.

Before they arrived at the Senegal, the Irish officer, of whom we have already spoken, bought an ox: it was immediately killed; they collected such combustibles as they could find, and when the animal was divided into as many portions as there were persons, each fixed his portion to the end of his sabre or bayonet, and thus they prepared a repast which they found delicious.

During the whole time they remained in the desert, biscuit, wine and brandy, in very small quantities, had been their principal nourishment; sometimes they procured by money, from the Moors, milk and millet; but what most distressed them was, that in the midst of these sandy plains, it was absolutely impossible for them to shelter themselves from the rays of a burning sun, which inflames the atmosphere of these desert regions. Scorched by insupportable heat, almost destitute of the first necessaries of life, some of them partly lost their senses; a spirit of mutiny even shewed itself for some moments, and two officers, whose conduct is, however, irreproachable, were marked as the first victims: happily they did not proceed to open violence. Many of those who crossed the desert, have assured us that there were moments when they were quite beside themselves.

An officer of the army in particular, gave signs of the most violent despair; he rolled himself in the sand, begging his comrades to kill him, because he could no longer bear up against so many sufferings. They succeeded in calming him; he arrived at St. Louis with the caravan.[B10]

The sixty-three who embarked near the Moles of Angel, had a longer series of fatigue to endure: they had to go between eighty and ninety leagues, in the immense desert of Zaara. After their landing, they had to cross downs that were extremely elevated, in order to reach the plain, in which they had the good fortune to meet with a vast pond of fresh water, where they quenched their thirst, and near which they lay down to rest. Having met with some Moors, they took them for guides, and after long marches, and the most cruel privations, they arrived at the Senegal, on the 23d of July, in the evening. Some of them perished for want: among this number was an unhappy gardener, and the wife of a soldier: this poor woman, exhausted with fatigue, told her husband to abandon her, for, that it was impossible for her to proceed; the soldier in despair, said to her in a rage: "well, since you cannot walk, to hinder you from being devoured alive by wild beasts, or carried into captivity among the Moors, I will run you through the body with my sabre;" he did not execute this threat, which he had probably conceived in a moment of despair; but the poor woman fell, and died under the most cruel sufferings.

Some persons having strayed from the main body, were taken by the natives of the country, and carried into the camp of the Moors; an officer remained above a month with them, and was afterwards brought to the Isle of St. Louis. The naturalist, Kummer, and Mr. Rogery, having separated from the troops, were forced to wander from one horde to another, and were at last conducted to Senegal. Their story, which we are now going to give, will complete the narrative of the adventures of our shipwrecked companions who traversed the desert.

After the stranding of the long-boat, Mr. Kummer quitted the caravan, formed by the persons wrecked, and proceeded in an easterly direction, in the hope of meeting with some Moors, who would give him food, to appease the hunger and thirst which he had endured for two days. Shortly after his departure, Mr. Rogery took the same resolution as our naturalist, and followed a route parallel to that taken by Mr. Kummer. This latter walked the whole day without meeting with any body; towards the evening he perceived, at a distance, some fires on the heights which generally lie round the ponds. This sight filled him with joy, and with hopes of meeting, at length, with some Moors who would conduct him to the Isle of St. Louis, and give him food of which he was much in need; he advanced with a firm and rapid step, went up to the Moors, who were under their tents, with much assurance, pronouncing as well as he could, a few words in Arabic, in which language he had taken some lessons while in France, and which he accompanied with profound salutations: "Receive," said he, "in your tents, the son of an unfortunate Mahometan woman, whom I am going to join in Upper Egypt; a shipwreck has thrown me on your coast, and I come in the name of the great prophet, to ask you for hospitality and assistance." At the name of the great prophet, Mr. Kummer bowed his face to the earth, and made the customary salutation: the Moors did the same, and doubted not but that they saw, before them, a follower of Mahomet.

They received him with joy, asked him to enter their tents, and to give a short account of his adventures. Milk, and flour of millet, were given him, and this food revived his strength. Then the Moors made him promise to conduct them to the place where the long-boat had stranded; they hoped to get possessions of the numerous effects, which they supposed the persons shipwrecked to have abandoned on the shore. Having made this promise, Mr. Kummer went to examine the tents, and the flocks of the chief of this tribe who conducted him himself, and boasted of his wealth and his dignity: he told him that he was the Prince Fune Fahdime Muhammed, son of Liralie Zaide, King of the Moors, called Trazas, and that, when he returned from the sea coast, he would take him to the King, his father, and that he would see there, his numerous slaves, and his innumerable flocks. While they were walking about the camp, Prince Muhammed perceived that Mr. Kummer had a watch: he desired to see it; of course, he could not refuse to shew it; the prince took it, and told Mr. Kummer that he would return it him when they should arrive at Andar, which promise he punctually performed. They arrived at last at the head of the flock, and our naturalist was astonished at the extraordinary care which these people take of their beasts. The horses and camels were in a separate place, and the whole flock was on the border of a large salt pond; behind them, the slaves had formed a line of fires of great extent, to drive away the mosquitoes and other insects, which torment these animals: they were all remarkably beautiful. While traversing, with the chief, the various quarters of the camp, Mr. Kummer beheld with surprise, their manner of cleaning their beasts. Upon an order of the Prince, the men, charged with this employment, take the strongest oxen by the horns, and throw them down on the sand with astonishing ease; the slaves then take the animal, and clear its whole body from the insects, which, notwithstanding the fires that surround the flocks, get among the hair of the cattle, which they torment cruelly. After this first operation, they are washed with care, particularly the cows, which are then milked. These various operations generally employ the slaves, and even the masters, till eleven o'clock at night. Mr. Kummer was afterwards invited to repose in the Prince's tent; but before, he could go to sleep, he was assailed with a multitude of questions. The history of the French Revolution has penetrated to these people; and they put questions to our naturalist which surprised him much; they afterwards asked him why our vessels no longer came to Portendick and the Isles of Arguin; after this, they allowed him to take a few moments' repose; but the poor Toubabe, (the name which the Moors give to the whites) did not dare to indulge himself in sleep; he feared the perfidy of the Moors, and their rapacious spirit; however, exhausted by three days incessant fatigue, he fell asleep for a few moments; he had but a very disturbed slumber; during which, the barbarians took away his purse, which still contained thirty pieces of 20 francs each, his cravat, pocket handkerchief, great-coat, shoes, waistcoat, and some other things which he carried in his pockets: he had nothing left but a bad pair of pantaloons and a hunting jacket; his shoes were, however, returned to him.

The next morning, at sun-rise, the Moors made their salam, (a Mahometan prayer): then about eight o'clock, the Prince, four of his subjects, Mr. Kummer, and a slave, set out for the sea-coast, in order to look for the wreck of the long-boat. They proceeded first towards the South, then to the West, then to the North, which made Mr. Kummer imagine that they were conducting him to Morocco. The Moors have no other method of finding their way, than to go from one eminence to another, which obliges them to take all sorts of directions; after they had proceeded five or six leagues to the East, they again turned to the West, then to the South West. After walking a considerable time longer, they arrived at the shore, where they found but few things. What particularly attracted their attention, was pieces of copper: they took them away, resolving to return and fetch the fragments of the long-boat, and several barrel, which the currents had driven on the coast. After taking whatever they could carry away, they set out towards the East, and at the end of about two leagues, they met some other Moors, also subjects of Prince Muhammed; they stopped and lay down under their tents: the Prince lay down under the finest, and ordered refreshments to be given to the Toubabe, who was worn out with fatigue and want of nourishment. Here Mr. Kummer was tormented by the women and children, who came every moment to touch and feel the fineness of his skin, and to take away some fragments of his shirt, and the few things which he had left. During the evening, fresh questions were put to him respecting the cruel wars which desolated France; he was obliged to trace the account of them, on the sand in Arabic letters. It was this extreme complaisance, and his pretended quality of the son of a Christian and of a Mahometan woman, which caused him to be upon very good terms with Prince Muhammed, and in general, with all the Moors whom he met with, on his journey. Every moment of the day, the Prince begged Mr. Kummer, to make the wheels of his watch go, the motions of which, much astonished the Moors; our traveller was on his side equally surprised, to see among the hordes, children five or six years of age, who wrote Arabic perfectly well.

The next day, July 8, at day-break, the Moors went and stationed themselves on the summit of a hill. There, prostrated with their faces turned towards the East, they waited for the rising of the sun, to perform their salam, which they begin the moment he appears in the horizon. Mr. Kummer followed them, imitated them in all their ceremonies, and never failed in the sequel, to perform his devotions at the same time as they did. The ceremony being over, the prince and his suite, continued their route in the direction of the South East, which again frightened the poor Toubabe; he thought that the Moors were going to resume their course to the North, and that in the end they would take him to Morocco; then he endeavoured to impart his uneasiness to Prince Muhammed, who at last comprehended him; but to make it quite clear, Mr. Kummer drew upon the sand, a part of the map of Africa; mean time, he heard them continually pronounce the word Andar, which did not at all diminish his alarms; but by the lines which he traced, he soon understood that the Moors meant the Isle of St. Louis; of which he was convinced when he had written the name of the European factory, by the side of that of Andar. The Moors let him know that they had comprehended him; and shewed great joy that a white could understand their language.

At noon, they stopped on the side of a great pond or lake. Mr. Kummer, who was extremely fatigued, lay down on the sand, and fell asleep immediately. During his sleep, the Moors went to look for a fruit, produced by a tree which generally grows on the sides of these lakes (marigots). They are bunches of little red berries, and very refreshing: the Moors are very fond of them, and make great use of them.[34]

During this time, chance ordered it, that Mr. Rogery, who had also been taken by the Moors, stopped at the same place: he was brought by some of the natives, who were taking him also to their sovereign Zaide: he soon perceived Mr. Kummer lying with his face to the earth, and thought he was dead; at this sight, a mortal chillness pervaded all the limbs of the unfortunate Rogery; he deplored the loss of a friend, of a companion in misfortune: he approached him trembling; but his grief was soon changed into joy, when he perceived that his friend still breathed; he took hold of him, and embraced him eagerly. These two unfortunate men were transported with mutual joy, at meeting in the midst of their distress, with a fellow countryman. Mr. Rogery had lost every thing; they had taken from him about forty pieces of 20 francs each, his watch, and all his effects: he had nothing left but his shirt, a very bad pair of pantaloons, and a hat. The wives of the Moors, and still more the children, had greatly tormented him; the latter, continually pinched him, and hindered him from taking a moment's sleep. His character was remarkably soured by this treatment, and his faculties rather impaired. These two unfortunate men, after having related their distresses to each other, fell asleep close together; some hours after, the Moors returned, and gave them some of the berries we have before mentioned. The caravan soon set forward again, and took a South West direction, which led to the camp of King Zaide: they reached it in the evening, but the monarch was absent; the report of our shipwreck had reached his camp, and Zaide, who desires to see every thing himself, had gone to the sea-shore to have assistance given to such of the persons shipwrecked, as he should meet with. The King did not return till twenty-four hours after, which gave time for our travellers to repose, and for Prince Muhammed to make a bargain with the two whites: to conduct them to the Isle of St. Louis; the Prince demanded for his trouble, including the expences of provisions and travelling, 800 gourdes for each, and obliged them before they set out, to sign an agreement in the Arabic language: Mr. Kummer consented to it, and said to Mr. Rogery, when we have once got to St. Louis, we will give them what we please. The latter hesitated, being much more scrupulous on that point, he would not at first accede to an agreement which he feared he should not be able to perform; but seeing that the Moors were resolved to keep him among them, he consented to accept the absolute proposal of the Prince, and the conventions were signed.