“The popular story of the countryside also,” continued Ferry’s report, “is a tale of battle. At fifty years’ distance the recollection remains and tradition is not yet born. The discovery of the Venus Victrix, the dispute of which she was the object, the fight on the beach, the victory of the French and her final abduction violently impressed the islanders—and the impression remains.”
“The battle of the beach” is described in sensational terms. The French war-schooner “Estafette” had reached Melos in May 1820, when her commander Robert saw the Greek brig “Galaxidion” (flying the Turkish flag) anchored nearby, and to the consternation of himself and Marcellus, the secretary of the French embassy at Constantinople, there appeared on shore at the foot of the hill a crowd of Greek and Turkish sailors laboriously transporting the upper half of the statue toward that same Turkish brig. The account continues:
“The Greeks and Turks advanced slowly, changing shifts and reposing. Marcellus and Robert looked in each other’s eyes. ‘There’s just time,’ said Robert. They armed a long-boat full of marines, Marcellus and Robert with them in command, and reached the shore just as men from a Turkish long-boat came running to protect their brethren. From the hill of Castro M. Brest, the French vice-consul, was making good time to the mêlée. Cutlasses and clubs opened the dance.
“The Turks dropped the marble idol. Around Venus it was slash and parry, kick, bite, jab, gouge and roll. A cutlass takes off a Turkish ear. Enough carnage! When you fly the Turkish flag you don’t soak the sands with your life-blood for a graven image made against the law of the Prophet. The Turks pull for the brig. The French have copped the peerless one, Venus Victrix, impassive, stares past them at the white-capped sea, where she was born. Is there a faint smile of satisfaction on the lovely lips?
“The stretcher had been injured. All were excited. Hurry, the Turks may return in force! That stretcher is no good. Put rollers under the flat of the block. Pull on the ropes! Attention! The bust is slipping! Malheur, she’s on her back? Tant pis!! Now, my children, yet another effort! Good old long-boat! Embark! It was hot work, but she’s ours. Best say as little as possible about it. Monsieur le Vice-Consul, you will please to arrange the settlement of this annoying episode diplomatically!
“Negotiations lasted two days. Finally the Turkish brig ceded to the French the lower part of the statue; but when the ‘Estafette’ sailed for Piraeus. Venus bore irreparable wounds.
“So they say. Such is said to be the secret—or part of it. Among fragments of marble gathered up after the battle of the beach were debris of her arms—in particular of the beautiful left arm which MM. d’Urville and Matterer had seen entire on her shoulder, lifting the triumphal apple!”
The report of M. Ferry makes the trip from Paris to Melos worth while and may have pleased the learned president of the republic, M. Thiers. The American reporter’s account throws light on the theory suggested by the results of M. Ferry’s trip:
“Venus Victrix was received in Paris by the Count de Clarac, curator of the Louvre, then Royal Museum. Did he know of the fight? Perhaps. Was it to forestall a possible hint that a French war-ship could attack and plunder the war-ship of a friendly power in profound peace, or to prevent a dream of the impossible possibility that the marvelous statue could have been mutilated in any French hands, by accident or otherwise, that he assumes Venus to have been dug up [in its present condition]?”
The official report of Count de Clarac when the statue was received at the Louvre runs as follows: