Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea
“Sir, if you have no objection, we will go back to 1702. You cannot be
ignorant that your king, Louis XIV, thinking that the gesture of a
potentate was sufficient to bring the Pyrenees under his yoke, had
imposed the Duke of Anjou, his grandson, on the Spaniards. This prince
reigned more or less badly under the name of Philip V, and had a strong
party against him abroad. Indeed, the preceding year, the royal houses
of Holland, Austria, and England had concluded a treaty of alliance at
the Hague, with the intention of plucking the crown of Spain from the
head of Philip V, and placing it on that of an archduke to whom they
prematurely gave the title of Charles III.
“Spain must resist this coalition; but she was almost entirely
unprovided with either soldiers or sailors. However, money would not
fail them, provided that their galleons, laden with gold and silver
from America, once entered their ports. And about the end of 1702 they
expected a rich convoy which France was escorting with a fleet of
twenty-three vessels, commanded by Admiral Chateau-Renaud, for the
ships of the coalition were already beating the Atlantic. This convoy
was to go to Cadiz, but the Admiral, hearing that an English fleet was
cruising in those waters, resolved to make for a French port.
“The Spanish commanders of the convoy objected to this decision. They
wanted to be taken to a Spanish port, and, if not to Cadiz, into Vigo
Bay, situated on the northwest coast of Spain, and which was not
blocked.
“Admiral Chateau-Renaud had the rashness to obey this injunction, and
the galleons entered Vigo Bay.
“Unfortunately, it formed an open road which could not be defended in
any way. They must therefore hasten to unload the galleons before the
arrival of the combined fleet; and time would not have failed them had
not a miserable question of rivalry suddenly arisen.
“You are following the chain of events?” asked Captain Nemo.
“Perfectly,” said I, not knowing the end proposed by this historical
lesson.
“I will continue. This is what passed. The merchants of Cadiz had a
privilege by which they had the right of receiving all merchandise
coming from the West Indies. Now, to disembark these ingots at the port
of Vigo was depriving them of their rights. They complained at Madrid,
and obtained the consent of the weak-minded Philip that the convoy,
without discharging its cargo, should remain sequestered in the roads
of Vigo until the enemy had disappeared.
“But whilst coming to this decision, on the 22nd of October, 1702, the
English vessels arrived in Vigo Bay, when Admiral Chateau-Renaud, in
spite of inferior forces, fought bravely. But, seeing that the treasure
must fall into the enemy’s hands, he burnt and scuttled every galleon,
which went to the bottom with their immense riches.”
Captain Nemo stopped. I admit I could not see yet why this history
should interest me.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well, M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, “we are in that Vigo Bay; and
it rests with yourself whether you will penetrate its mysteries.”
The Captain rose, telling me to follow him. I had had time to recover.
I obeyed. The saloon was dark, but through the transparent glass the
waves were sparkling. I looked.
For half a mile around the _Nautilus_, the waters seemed bathed in
electric light. The sandy bottom was clean and bright. Some of the
ship’s crew in their diving-dresses were clearing away half-rotten
barrels and empty cases from the midst of the blackened wrecks. From
these cases and from these barrels escaped ingots of gold and silver,
cascades of piastres and jewels. The sand was heaped up with them.
Laden with their precious booty, the men returned to the _Nautilus_,
disposed of their burden, and went back to this inexhaustible fishery
of gold and silver.
I understood now. This was the scene of the battle of the 22nd of
October, 1702. Here on this very spot the galleons laden for the
Spanish Government had sunk. Here Captain Nemo came, according to his
wants, to pack up those millions with which he burdened the _Nautilus_.
It was for him and him alone America had given up her precious metals.
He was heir direct, without anyone to share, in those treasures torn
from the Incas and from the conquered of Ferdinand Cortez.
“Did you know, sir,” he asked, smiling, “that the sea contained such
riches?”
“I knew,” I answered, “that they value money held in suspension in
these waters at two millions.”
“Doubtless; but to extract this money the expense would be greater than
the profit. Here, on the contrary, I have but to pick up what man has
lost—and not only in Vigo Bay, but in a thousand other ports where
shipwrecks have happened, and which are marked on my submarine map. Can
you understand now the source of the millions I am worth?”
“I understand, Captain. But allow me to tell you that in exploring Vigo
Bay you have only been beforehand with a rival society.”
“And which?”
“A society which has received from the Spanish Government the privilege
of seeking those buried galleons. The shareholders are led on by the
allurement of an enormous bounty, for they value these rich shipwrecks
at five hundred millions.”
“Five hundred millions they were,” answered Captain Nemo, “but they are
so no longer.”
“Just so,” said I; “and a warning to those shareholders would be an act
of charity. But who knows if it would be well received? What gamblers
usually regret above all is less the loss of their money than of their
foolish hopes. After all, I pity them less than the thousands of
unfortunates to whom so much riches well-distributed would have been
profitable, whilst for them they will be for ever barren.”
I had no sooner expressed this regret than I felt that it must have
wounded Captain Nemo.
“Barren!” he exclaimed, with animation. “Do you think then, sir, that
these riches are lost because I gather them? Is it for myself alone,
according to your idea, that I take the trouble to collect these
treasures? Who told you that I did not make a good use of it? Do you
think I am ignorant that there are suffering beings and oppressed races
on this earth, miserable creatures to console, victims to avenge? Do
you not understand?”
Captain Nemo stopped at these last words, regretting perhaps that he
had spoken so much. But I had guessed that, whatever the motive which
had forced him to seek independence under the sea, it had left him
still a man, that his heart still beat for the sufferings of humanity,
and that his immense charity was for oppressed races as well as
individuals. And I then understood for whom those millions were
destined which were forwarded by Captain Nemo when the _Nautilus_ was
cruising in the waters of Crete.
CHAPTER IX
A VANISHED CONTINENT
The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my
room. I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed.
“Well, sir?” said he.
“Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday.”
“Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended
leaving his vessel.”
“Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers.”
“His bankers!”
“Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean, where his
riches are safer than in the chests of the State.”
I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night,
hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain; but
my recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret
from Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of
Vigo on his own account.
“However,” said he, “all is not ended. It is only a blow of the harpoon
lost. Another time we must succeed; and to-night, if necessary——”
“In what direction is the _Nautilus_ going?” I asked.
“I do not know,” replied Ned.
“Well, at noon we shall see the point.”
The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed, I went into
the saloon. The compass was not reassuring. The course of the
_Nautilus_ was S.S.W. We were turning our backs on Europe.
I waited with some impatience till the ship’s place was pricked on the
chart. At about half-past eleven the reservoirs were emptied, and our
vessel rose to the surface of the ocean. I rushed towards the platform.
Ned Land had preceded me. No more land in sight. Nothing but an immense
sea. Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going to San Roque in
search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of Good Hope. The
weather was cloudy. A gale of wind was preparing. Ned raved, and tried
to pierce the cloudy horizon. He still hoped that behind all that fog
stretched the land he so longed for.
At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second profited by
this brightness to take its height. Then, the sea becoming more
billowy, we descended, and the panel closed.
An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position of the
_Nautilus_ was marked at 16° 17′ long., and 33° 22′ lat., at 150
leagues from the nearest coast. There was no means of flight, and I
leave you to imagine the rage of the Canadian when I informed him of
our situation.
For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened of the load
which had oppressed me, and was able to return with some degree of
calmness to my accustomed work.
That night, about eleven o’clock, I received a most unexpected visit
from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously if I felt fatigued from
my watch of the preceding night. I answered in the negative.
“Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion.”
“Propose, Captain?”
“You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight, under
the brightness of the sun. Would it suit you to see them in the
darkness of the night?”
“Most willingly.”
“I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk, and
must climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept.”
“What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity; I am ready to
follow you.”
“Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses.”
Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions nor any
of the ship’s crew were to follow us on this excursion. Captain Nemo
had not even proposed my taking with me either Ned or Conseil.
In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed on our
backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air, but no electric lamps
were prepared. I called the Captain’s attention to the fact.
“They will be useless,” he replied.
I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my
observation, for the Captain’s head had already disappeared in its
metal case. I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an
iron-pointed stick into my hand, and some minutes later, after going
through the usual form, we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a
depth of 150 fathoms. Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly
dark, but Captain Nemo pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a
sort of large light shining brilliantly about two miles from the
_Nautilus_. What this fire might be, what could feed it, why and how it
lit up the liquid mass, I could not say. In any case, it did light our
way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon accustomed myself to the peculiar
darkness, and I understood, under such circumstances, the uselessness
of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.
As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head. The noise
redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower, I soon understood
the cause. It was rain falling violently, and crisping the surface of
the waves. Instinctively the thought flashed across my mind that I
should be wet through! By the water! in the midst of the water! I could
not help laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick
diving-dress, the liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems