This whole night we contended against death, holding fast by the ropes

which were strongly fastened. Rolled by the waves from the back to the
front, and from the front to the back, and sometimes precipitated into the
sea, suspended between life and death, lamenting our misfortune, certain to
perish, yet still struggling for a fragment of existence with the cruel
element which threatened to swallow us up. Such was our situation till
day-break; every moment were heard the lamentable cries of the soldiers and
sailors; they prepared themselves for death; they bid farewell to each
other, imploring the protection of Heaven, and addressing fervent prayers
to God: all made vows to him, notwithstanding the certainty that they
should never be able to fulfil them. Dreadful situation! How is it possible
to form an idea of it, which is not below the truth!

About seven o'clock, in the morning, the sea fell a little, the wind blew
with less fury; but what a sight presented itself to our view! Ten or
twelve unhappy wretches, having their lower extremities entangled in the
openings between the pieces of the raft, had not been able to disengage
themselves, and had lost their lives; several others had been carried off
by the violence of the sea. At the hour of repast we took fresh numbers, in
order to leave no break in the series: we missed twenty men: we will not
affirm that this number is very exact, for we found that some soldiers, in
order to have more than their ration, took two, and even three numbers. We
were so many persons crowded together, that it was absolutely impossible to
prevent these abuses.

Amidst these horrors, an affecting scene of filial piety forced us to shed
tears: two young men raised and recognised, for their father, an
unfortunate man who was stretched senseless under the feet of the people;
at first, they thought he was dead, and their despair expressed itself by
the most affecting lamentations; it was perceived, however, that this
almost inanimate body still had breath; we lavished on him all the
assistance in our power; he recovered by degrees, and was restored to life
and to the prayers of his sons, who held him fast embraced in their arms.
While the rights of nature resumed their empire in this affecting episode
of our sad adventures, we had soon the afflicting sight of a melancholy
contrast. Two young lads, and a baker, did not fear to seek death, by
throwing themselves into the sea, after having taken leave of their
companions in misfortune. Already the faculties of our men were singularly
impaired; some fancied they saw the land; others, vessels which were coming
to save us; all announced to us by their cries these fallacious visions.

We deplored the loss of our unhappy companions; we did not presage, at this
moment, the still more terrible scene which was to take place the following
night; far from that, we enjoyed a degree of satisfaction, so fully were we
persuaded that the boats would come to our relief. The day was fine, and
the most perfect tranquillity prevailed on our raft. The evening came, and
the boats did not appear. Despondency began again to seize all our people,
and a mutinous spirit manifested itself by cries of fury; the voice of the
officers was wholly disregarded. When the night came, the sky was covered
with thick clouds; the wind, which during the day had been rather high, now
became furious, and agitated the sea, which, in an instant, grew very
rough.

If the preceding night had been terrible, this was still more horrible.
Mountains of water covered us every moment, and broke, with violence, in
the midst of us; very happily we had the wind behind us, and the fury of
the waves was a little checked by the rapidity of our progress; we drove
towards the land. From the violence of the sea, the men passed rapidly from
the back to the front of the raft, we were obliged to keep in the centre,
the most solid part of the raft; those who could not get there, almost all
perished. Before and behind the waves dashed with fury, and carried off the
men in spite of all their resistance. At the centre, the crowd was such
that some poor men were stifled by the weight of their comrades, who fell
upon them every moment; the officers kept themselves at the foot of the
little mast, obliged, every instant, to avoid the waves, to call to those
who surrounded them to go on the one or the other side, for the waves which
came upon us, nearly athwart, gave our raft a position almost
perpendicular, so that, in order to counterbalance it, we were obliged to
run to that side which was raised up by the sea.[A10]

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. Corréard 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. Corréard 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. Corréard 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. Corréard, 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. Corréard, 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. Corréard, 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. Corréard, 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 Rhé. 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,
Corréard, 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. Corréard 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. Corréard 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. Corréard 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. Corréard) 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.