When the raft had received the miserable remnant, one hundred and fifty in number, for whom the boats had no room, or would make no room, it was found, when it was too late to correct the evil, that this last refuge of a despairing and disorderly multitude had been put together with so little care and skill, and was so ill provided with necessaries, that the planking was insecure; there was not space enough for protection from the waves, and charts, instruments, spars, sails, and stores were all deficient.  A few casks of wine and some biscuits, enough for a single meal only, were all the provision made for their sustenance.  The rush and scramble from the wreck had been accomplished with so little attention to discipline, that the raft had not a single naval officer to take charge of her.  At first, the boats took the raft in tow, but in a short time, though the sea was calm and the coast was known to be within fifteen leagues, the boats cast off the tow-lines:  and in not one of the six was there a sufficient sense of duty, or of humanity left, to induce the crew to remain by the floating planks—­the forlorn hope of one hundred and fifty of their comrades and fellow-countrymen!  Nay, it is related by the narrators of the wreck of the Medusa, that the atrocious cry resounded from one boat to another, ’Nous les abandonnons!’—­’we leave them to their fate,’—­until one by one all the tow-lines were cast off.  During the long interval of seventeen days, the raft struggled with the waves.  A small pocket compass was the only guide of the unhappy men, who lost even this in one of the reckless quarrels, which ensued every hour for a better place on the raft or a morsel of biscuit.  On the first night twelve men were jammed between the timbers, and died under the agonies of crushed and mangled limbs.  On the second night more were drowned, and some were smothered by the pressure towards the centre of the raft.  Common suffering, instead of softening, hardened the hearts of the survivors against each other.  Some of them drank wine till they were in a frenzy of intoxication, and attempted to cut the ropes which kept the raft together.  A general fight ensued, many were killed, and many were cast into the sea during the struggle; and thus perished from sixty to sixty-five.  On the third day portions of the bodies of the dead were devoured by some of the survivors.  On the fourth night another quarrel and another fight, with more bloodshed, broke out.  On the fifth morning, thirty only out of the one hundred and fifty were alive.  Two of these were flung to the waves for stealing wine:  a boy died, and twenty-seven remained, not to comfort and to assist each other, but to hold a council of destruction, and to determine who should be victims for the preservation of the rest.  At this hideous council twelve were pronounced too weak to outlive much more suffering, and that they might not needlessly consume any part of the remaining stock of provisions,