The Loss of the Kent, East Indiaman, in the Bay of Biscay: Narrated in a Letter to a FriendMcGregor, Duncan
History
The Loss of the Kent, East Indiaman, in the Bay of Biscay: Narrated in a Letter to a Friend
McGregor, Duncan
Shipwrecks
Some time after the shades of night had enveloped us, I descended to the
cuddy, in quest of a blanket to shelter me from the increasing cold; and
the scene of desolation that there presented itself was melancholy in
the extreme. The place which, only a few short hours before, had been
the seat of kindly intercourse and of social gaiety, was now entirely
deserted, save by a few miserable wretches, who were either stretched in
irrecoverable intoxication on the floor, or prowling about, like beasts
of prey, in search of plunder. The sofas, drawers, and other articles
of furniture, the due arrangement of which had cost so much thought and
pains, were now broken into a thousand pieces, and scattered in
confusion around me. Some of the geese and other poultry, escaped from
their confinement, were cackling in the cuddy; while a solitary pig,
wandering from its sty in the forecastle, was ranging at large in
undisturbed possession of the Brussels carpet that covered one of the
cabins. Glad to retire from a scene so cheerless and affecting, and
rendered more dismal by the smoke which was oozing up from below, I
returned to the poop, where I again found, amongst the few officers that
remained, Capt. Cobb, Colonel Fearon, Lieuts. Ruxton, Booth, and Evans,
superintending, with unabated zeal, the removal of the rapidly
diminishing sufferers, as the boats successively arrived to carry them
off.
The alarm and impatience of the people increased in a high ratio as the
night advanced; and our fears, amid the surrounding darkness, were fed
as much by the groundless or exaggerated reports of the timid as by the
real and evident approach of the fatal crisis itself. With a view to
ensure a greater probability of being discovered by those in the boats,
some of the more collected and hardy soldiers (for I think almost all
the sailors had already effected their escape) took the precaution to
tie towels and such like articles round their heads, previously to their
committing themselves to the water.
As the boats were nearly three-quarters of an hour absent between each
trip--which period was necessarily spent by those in the wreck in a
state of fearful inactivity--abundant opportunity was afforded for
collecting the sentiments of many of the unhappy men around me; some of
whom, after remaining perhaps for a while in silent abstraction, would
suddenly burst forth, as if awakened from some terrible dream to a still
more frightful reality, into a long train of loud and desponding
lamentation, that gradually subsided into its former stillness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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