Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1895-10-07
SEMILLANTE'S WRECK.

night has thrown. us on the Corsical
coast, let me tell you a terrible story
of the sea, of which the fishermen o.
the place often speak at eventide, ant
about which chance has enabled me
to learn strange particulars.
1t was three years ago. was sail
ing the Sandman sea with seven Oh
eight sailors on the coast survey. Il
was rough voyage for novice; we
did not have one good day through
March. The wind was furious aud
the waves never Gained. One even
ing, as we were flying before the
tempest, our vessel came for refuge
to the mouth of the Straits of Bonita
clio, among some little islands.
Their aspect was not alluring. They
were great, bald rocks, covered with
birds, some bushes of lentisk, a few
tufts of absinthe, and here and there
in the slime, decaying pieces ofwood
But, my soul! it was better to pass the
night among these sinister rocks than
to be on a frail old bark, half decked,
where the blast came in as though it
were quite at home; SO we contented
ourselves.
No sooner had we disembarked than
the sailors lighted fire for the fish
soup, and the captain called me,
pointing to little Enclosure surround
ed by a white wall almost lost in the
81
you come to the cemetery?" said he.
GA cemetery, captain! where are
we?"
ION the Lavezzi islands, monsieur.
The six hundred men Of the frigate
Semillante are buried here at the spot
where she was lost ten years ago. Poor
fellows! AS they don't receive many
visits, the least we can do is to go and
say: Bon jour to them as long as we
are here"
"With all my heart, captain"
How sad it was, the cemetery Of
the Semillante! [ see it still, with it's
little, low wall; it's open door. rusty
and hard to open; it's silent chapel,
the hundreds of black crosses hidden
by the weeds. Not one wreath of i'm
mortelles, not one souvenir-nothing!
All, the poor, Abandoned dead! How
cold they must be in their chance
tombs.
We stayed a moment kneeling. The
captain prayed aloud. Enormous gulls,
10 1xy~ Vii Of l1n or
circled over our heads, mingling their
hoarse cries with the wailing of the
sea. The prayer finished, we came
sadly back to the corner of the island
where the bark was anchored. No
time had been lost during our alb
sence. We found a great fire flaming
in the shelter of a rock, and the soup
smoking. Sitting down in circle,
with our feet to the flames, soon each
had on his knees bowl of red pot
terry, in which were two slices of black
bread, covered plentifully with the
broth. The repast was silent one.
We were wet, we were hungry, and
then we were near the graveyard!
However, when the bowls were
we lighted our pipes and
talked Internationally Of the Semil-
lante.
"Tell me, how did it happen?" I
asked the captain, who, with his head
on his hands, stared at the flames with
a thoughtful air.
GLOW did it happen?" said the
good Lionetti with a heavy sigh. cal
as, no human being can tell. All we
know is that the Semillante, laden
with troops, left Toulon the evening
before in bad weather. During the
night it grew worse-wind, rain, and
a terrible sea, the like of which was
never seen before. In the morning
the wind fell little, but the sea was
worse, if possible, and with it the fog,
so that one could not have distinguish
ed a beacon light four feet away.
Those fogs, monsieur! You have no
idea how deceitful they are! But al
so have an idea that the Semillante
must have lost her helm in the morn
ing, for the captain, even in a heavy
fog, could hardly have made such a
mistake. He was well-tried mariner.
We all knew him. He had commanded
the Corsican station for three years,
and knew the coast as we'll as I, who
knows nothing else"
"At what time do they think that
the ship perished?'
cit must have been at noon-yes,
fully noon, but, forsooth,
with that fog, that noon was worth
no more than night as black as the
Jaws of wolf. A life-saver of the
coast told me that the same dav to-