Read the chapter
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
Chapter 43. FROM LATITUDE 47 24' TO LONGITUDE 17 28'
Because of the storm, we had been thrown eastward once more.
All hope of escape on the shores of New York or St. Lawrence had faded away.
Poor Ned, in despair, had isolated himself like Captain Nemo.
Conseil and I, however, never left each other.
I said that the Nautilus had gone aside to the east.
To be more exact, I should have said the north-east.
For some days, it wandered first on the surface, and then beneath it, among those fogs so dreaded by sailors.
What accidents are caused by these thick fogs!
What shocks upon these reefs when the wind drowns the breaking of the waves!
What collisions between ships, in spite of their warning lights, whistles, and alarm bells!
And the bottoms of these seas look like a field of battle, where all the conquered of the ocean still lie.
Some are old and already covered with growth.
Others are fresh and reflect the brightness of our lantern from their iron bands and copper plates.
On the 15th of May we were at the extreme south of the Bank of Newfoundland.
This bank consists of alluvia, or large heaps of organic matter.
They're brought either from the Equator by the Gulf Stream, or from the North Pole by the counter-current of cold water which skirts the American coast.
There also are heaped up those erratic blocks which are carried along by the broken ice.
And close by is a vast charnel-house of molluscs, which die here by millions.
The depth of the sea isn't great at Newfoundland.
It isn't more than some hundreds of fathoms.
But towards the south there's a depression of 1,500 fathoms.
There the Gulf Stream widens, it loses some of its speed and some of its temperature, but it becomes a sea.
On the 17th of May, about 500 miles from Heart's Content, we were at a depth of more than 1,400 fathoms.
There I saw the electric cable lying on the bottom.
Conseil, to whom I hadn't mentioned it, thought at first that it was a gigantic sea-serpent.
But I told the worthy fellow the truth.
And by way of consolation I related several details about the laying of this cable.
The first one was laid in the years 1857 and 1858.
But after transmitting about 400 telegrams, it wouldn't work any longer.
In 1863 the engineers constructed another one.
It measured 2,000 miles in length and weighed 4,500 tons.
It was put on the Great Eastern, this attempt also failed.
On 25 May Nautilus, at a depth over 1,918 fathoms, was on the exact spot where the rupture that ruined the enterprise occurred.
It was within 638 miles of the coast of Ireland.
And at half-past two in the afternoon they discovered that communication with Europe had stopped.
The electricians on board decided to cut the cable before fishing it up.
At eleven o'clock at night they had recovered the damaged part.
They made another point and spliced it, and it was once more put underwater.
But some days after it broke again, and in the depths of the ocean it couldn't be recaptured.
The Americans, however, weren't discouraged, Cyrus Field, the bold promoter of the enterprise, had sunk all his own fortune.
He set a new subscription on foot, which was at once answered.
And another cable was constructed on better principles.
The bundles of conducting wires were each wrapped in gutta-percha, and protected by a wadding of hemp, contained in a metallic covering.
The Great Eastern sailed on the 13th of July, 1866.
The operation worked well, but one incident occurred.
Several times in unrolling the cable they observed that nails had recently been forced into it, clearly with the motive of destroying it.
Captain Anderson, the officers, and engineers consulted together.
They had it posted up that if the offender was surprised on board, he'd be thrown without further trial into the sea.
From that time the criminal attempt was never repeated.
On the 23rd of July the Great Eastern wasn't more than 500 miles from Newfoundland.
They telegraphed from Ireland the news of the armistice concluded between Prussia and Austria after Sadowa.
On the 27th, in the middle of heavy fogs, they reached the port of Heart's Content, the enterprise was successfully finished.
And for its first message, young America addressed old Europe in these words of wisdom, so rarely understood,
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill towards men."
I didn't expect to find the electric cable in its original state, such as it was on leaving the factory.
The long serpent, covered with the remains of shells and covered with foraminiferae, was encrusted with a strong coating.
This served as a protection against all boring molluscs.
It lay quietly sheltered from the motions of the sea.
And it was under a favorable pressure for the transmission of the electric spark which passes from Europe to America in .32 of a second.
Doubtless this cable will last for a great length of time.
They find that the gutta-percha covering is improved by the sea-water.
Besides, on this level, so well chosen, the cable is never so deeply submerged as to cause it to break.
The Nautilus followed it to the lowest depth, which was more than 2,212 fathoms.
And there it lay without any anchorage.
Then we reached the spot where the accident had taken place in 1863.
The bottom of the ocean then formed a valley about 100 miles broad.
In it Mont Blanc could have been placed without its summit appearing above the waves.
This valley is closed at the east by a perpendicular wall more than 2,000 yards high.
We arrived there on the 28th of May.
And the Nautilus was then not more than 120 miles from Ireland.
Was Captain Nemo going to land on the British Isles?
No, To my great surprise he made for the south, once more coming back towards European seas.
In rounding the Emerald Isle, for one instant I caught sight of Cape Clear.
I also saw the light which guides the thousands of ships leaving Glasgow or Liverpool.
An important question then arose in my mind.
Did the Nautilus dare to enter the English Channel?
Ned Land, who had reappeared since we had been nearing land, didn't stop asking me questions.
How could I answer? Captain Nemo remained invisible.
After having shown the Canadian a glimpse of American shores, was he going to show me the coast of France?
But the Nautilus was still going southward.
On 30th May it passed Land's End, between England's extreme point and the Scilly Isles, left to starboard.
If we wished to enter the English Channel, he must go straight to the east, he didn't do so.
During the whole of the 31st of May, the Nautilus described a series of circles on the water.
This greatly interested me, it seemed to be seeking a spot it had some trouble in finding.
At noon, Captain Nemo himself came to work the ship's log.
He spoke no word to me, but seemed gloomier than ever.
What could sadden him like this? Was it his nearness to European shores?
Did he have some memories of his abandoned country?
If not, what did he feel? Remorse or regret?
For a long while this thought haunted my mind.
And I had a kind of feeling that before long chance would betray the captain's secrets.
The next day, the 1st of June, the Nautilus continued the same process.
It was clearly seeking some particular spot in the ocean.
Captain Nemo took the sun's altitude as he had done the day before.
The sea was beautiful, the sky clear.
About eight miles to the east, a large steam ship could be seen on the horizon.
No flag flew from its mast, and I couldn't discover its nationality.
Some minutes before the sun passed the meridian, Captain Nemo took his sextant, and watched with great attention.
The perfect stillness of the water greatly helped the operation.
The Nautilus was motionless, it didn't roll or pitch.
I was on the platform when the altitude was taken.
And the Captain said these words, "It's here."
He turned and went below, Had he seen the ship which was changing its course and seemed to be nearing us?
I couldn't tell, I returned to the saloon.
The panels closed, I heard the hissing of the water in the reservoirs.
The Nautilus began to sink, following a vertical line, for its screw gave no motion to it.
Some minutes later it stopped at a depth of more than 420 fathoms, resting on the ground.
The luminous ceiling was darkened, then the panels were opened.
And through the glass I saw the sea brilliantly lit by the rays of our lantern for at least half a mile around us.
I looked to the port side, and saw nothing but an immensity of quiet waters.
But to starboard, on the bottom appeared a large protuberance, which at once attracted my attention.
One would have thought it a ruin buried under a coating of white shells, much like a covering of snow.
Upon examining the mass carefully, I could recognize the ever-thickening form of a ship without its masts, which must have sunk.
It certainly belonged to past times, its timbers softened and encrusted by long years.
This wreck, thus covered with the lime of the water, must have spent many years on the bottom of the ocean.
What was this ship? Why did the Nautilus visit its tomb?
Could it have been anything but a shipwreck which had drawn it under the water?
I didn't know what to think, then near me in a slow voice I heard Captain Nemo say,
"At one time this ship was called the Marseillais."
"It carried seventy-four guns, and was launched in 1762."
"In 1778, on the 13th of August, commanded by La Poype-Vertrieux, it fought boldly against the Preston."
"In 1779, on the 4th of July, it was at the taking of Grenada, with the squadron of Admiral Estaing."
"In 1781, on the 5th of September, it took part in the battle of Comte de Grasse, in Chesapeake Bay."
"In 1794, the French Republic changed its name."
"On the 16th of April, in the same year, it joined the squadron of Villaret Joyeuse, at Brest."
"It was entrusted with the escort of a cargo of corn coming from America, under the command of Admiral Van Stebel."
"On the 11th and 12th Prairal of the second year, this squadron met an English ship."
"Sir, today is the 13th Prairal, the first of June, 1868."
"It's now seventy-four years ago, day for day on this very spot."
"The ship was at latitude 47 24', longitude 17 28'."
"After fighting heroically, it lost its three masts."
"Water filled its hold, and a third of its crew was disabled."
"The ship preferred sinking with its 356 sailors to surrendering."
"And, nailing its colors to the poop, it disappeared under the waves to the cry of 'Long live the Republic!'"
"The Avenger!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, sir, the Avenger! A good name!" Captain Nemo muttered, crossing his arms.