The only place where we heard of Pirates, during our cruise, was at a Key, thirty or forty miles Easterly of Cruz del Padre, where we fell in with a man who had been a pilot in the Colombian service. He informed us, that on the morning of that day, about forty Pirates, in three boats, came on shore, robbed him of his little all, consisting of hogs, poultry, &c.—abused his wife and daughters, and set fire to his hut, a part of which we perceived had just been burned. Although it was near night, we started in a direction for them in the launch, manned with fifteen men; but we could hear or see nothing more of them. It was extremely unfortunate, that during the whole of our cruise, the violence of the weather would not permit us to pass the Reef and visit the huts.
After my return to Matanzas, I was carried along side the Sea-Gull; and while in the barge, Manuel, who had numbered me among the murdered of the crew, accidentally approached the side!—A visit from a spectre could not have affected him more than the sight of me. After he had recovered from his surprise, as we had but a few moments to stay, he briefly informed me, that he escaped to the bushes, where he concealed himself until midnight, when he returned to the Cove, took one of the canoes, and with a paddle ventured off into the ocean, where he was taken up by a Spanish armed brig, carried into Havana, and there lodged in prison. The latter part of his story was corroborated by the commander of the Sea-Gull, who, hearing of his imprisonment, went round to Havana and released him. But I shall ever believe, that he was overtaken by the Pirates and suffered, from national partiality, to escape in the canoe, as he described.
I now went on board the Shamrock to return home, and have reason to thank God, that in addition to his other mercies toward me, I did not attempt a second cruise in the Ferret, with which ill-fated vessel, I might perhaps have perished; for it will be recollected that she was capsized, a few hours out of Matanzas, and, with part of her crew, lost.
On the second day of April, 1825, I arrived at Wiscasset; where, by the advice and aid of my friends, I have published to the world, the simple story of my sufferings, as an appeal to my country, from an humble sailor, who has been honored by fighting her battles, to avenge one of the most unnatural murders that ever darkened the pages of her history.
FINIS.
Transcriber's Note:
This text has been transcribed as typeset, barring one error of "the" duplicated in "[peeping over the tops]". All spelling and punctuation variations, oddities, and inconsistencies have been retained.