Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates, / on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824.

BY DANIEL COLLINS, ONE OF THE ONLY TWO SURVIVORS.
WISCASSET: PRINTED BY JOHN DORR . 1825.
DISTRICT OF MAINE, ss.
L. S.
BE IT REMEMBERED , That on this twenty-sixth day of April, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five, and the forty-ninth year of the Independence of the United States of America, Mr. John Dorr, of the District of Maine, has deposited in this Office, the title of a Book, the right whereof he claims as Proprietor, in the words following, viz:
Narrative of the Shipwreck of the Brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, and murder of five of her crew, by Pirates, on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824. By Daniel Collins, one of the only two survivors.
——quæque ipse miserrima vidi, Et quorum pars magna fui.
In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned; and also, to an act, entitled, An Act supplementary to an act, entitled, an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints.
J. MUSSEY, Clerk of the District Court of Maine.
A true copy as of record.—Attest,
J. Mussey, Clerk D. C. Maine.
On the 28th of November, 1824, I sailed from Wiscasset, (Me.) for Matanzas, in the Island of Cuba, on board the brig Betsey, laden with lumber; our officers and crew consisting of seven, viz. Ellis Hilton, of Wiscasset, master; Joshua Merry, of Edgecomb, 1st mate; Daniel Collins, of Wiscasset, 2d mate; Charles Manuel, (a Portuguese), Seth Russell, and Benj. Bridge, seamen; and Detrey Jeome, cook. On the 18th of December we passed the Berry Islands, and early next morning came to anchor within a league of Orange Key, on the Bahama Banks. It was the morning of the Sabbath, so calm and clear that even the lengthened billows of the Gulf Stream seemed sleeping around us, and the most untutored son of Neptune could not but remember that it was a holy day, consecrated to devotion and rest. Here we continued until noon, when a fresh breeze from the North invited us to weigh anchor and unfurl our sails, which, swelling with a fair wind, were as buoyant as our own spirits, at the increasing prospect of reaching our port of destination.