Memoirs of the Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp: Late a Lieut. in His Majesty's 87th RegimentShipp, John
History
Memoirs of the Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp: Late a Lieut. in His Majesty's 87th Regiment
Shipp, John
India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Biography; Shipp, John, 1784-1834
Every assistance and attention that humanity or generosity could
dictate, was freely and liberally bestowed by the officers on board, who
cheerfully gave up their fresh meat and many other comforts, for the
benefit of the distressed; but the pestilence baffled the aid of
medicine and the skill of the medical attendants. My poor legs were as
big as drums; my gums swollen to an enormous size; my tongue too big for
my mouth; and all I could eat was raw potatoes and vinegar. But my kind
and affectionate officers sometimes brought me some tea and coffee, at
which the languid eye would brighten, and the tear of gratitude would
intuitively fall, in spite of my efforts to repress what was thought
unmanly. Our spirits were so subdued by suffering, and our frames so
much reduced and emaciated, that I have seen poor men weep bitterly,
they knew not why. Thus passed the time; men dying in dozens, and, ere
their blood was cold, hurled into the briny deep, there to become a prey
to sharks. It was a dreadful sight to see the bodies of our comrades the
bone of disputation with these voracious natives of the dreary deep; and
the reflection that such might soon be our own fate would crush our best
feelings, and with horror drive the eye from such a sight. Our
muster-rolls were dreadfully thinned: indeed, almost every fourth man
amongst the Europeans, and more than two-thirds of the natives, had
fallen victims to the diseases on board; and it was by the mercy of
Providence only, that the ship ever reached its destination, for we had
scarcely a seaman fit for duty to work her. Never shall I forget the
morning I saw the land. In the moment of joy I forgot all my miseries,
and cast them into the deep, in the hope of future happiness. This is
mortal man's career. Past scenes are drowned and forgotten, in the
anticipation of happier events to come; and, by a cherished delusion,
we allow ourselves to be transported into the fairy land of imagination,
in quest of future joys--never, perhaps, to be realized, but the
contemplation of which, in the distance, serves at least to soothe us
under present suffering.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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