After the explosion of her boilers, and the rapid spread of the flames,
the burning mass of what had been the fine steamer Sultana, floated
slowly down with the current until within a few hundred yards of Mr.
Fogleman's residence, when it grounded on the Arkansas shore. We visited
the wreck about 10 o'clock. It had sunk in twenty feet of water, and the
jackstaff was standing up before the black mass, as though mutely
mourning over the terrible scene, a silent witness of which it had been.
The boat was almost entirely consumed. The charred remains of several
human bodies were found, crisped and blackened by the fiery element. The
scene was sad to contemplate, and those who witnessed it can never
forget it. The Rose Hamilton, Pocahontas, Jenny Lind and Bostona were
cruising around the place ever and anon picking up the breathless body
of some unfortunate one, who "slept the sleep of death;" or some more
fortunate, who had escaped a watery grave, though exhausted by a fearful
night of agony and struggle for life.