We stationed our men under the bomb proofs, it being the general opinion of the engineer officers that when the magazine did blow up the greatest explosion would be towards the sea, where the wall of the magazine was weakest, and that under the bomb proof the men would be comparatively safe; and as these desperate fellows had declared, that if when St. John’s clock should strike the hour of nine in the evening, their terms, free pardon and safe conduct back to their own country, were not complied with, they would set fire to the train and blow themselves and the fortress up, we awaited the event with much anxiety. A strong suspicion existing that they had undermined the garrison, and had made a passage out for themselves at the back of it, I was sent to row guard to intercept any attempt they might make to escape by water. At about nine, off went the train, and a most awful explosion took place; the whole sea wall was blown to atoms, and the shock like that of an earthquake was felt far and near, some fish in the harbour made a spring out of the water, which showed they also were sensible of the vibration. Three of the 44th Regiment who were posted sentinels were killed by the falling stones, and a few more were hurt. I immediately pulled on shore and had communication with the fort, and then went and made my report to the senior naval officer. These desperate wretches, at first, were considered to have perished, but, about a week afterwards they were brought in, nearly starved to death, having been unable to make their escape from the island. They were immediately tried by a court martial and hanged. To return to those forty-five mutineers dragged out of the fortress by the sortie. They were also brought before a military tribunal; fifteen of them were condemned to be hanged, and most of the remainder to be shot. The execution was most terribly mismanaged: it presented, indeed, a shocking spectacle. But I will say no more upon the subject, further than to the last moment these poor wretches continued to vent their abuse on the English, and the men sentenced to be hanged endeavoured to keep up the spirits of those that were about to be shot--even when the ropes were round their necks they called to them, saying, “What are you crying for? It is we that ought to bewail our fate of being hanged like dogs instead of being shot like men.” I recollect seeing a Catholic priest very busy on the scaffold, wishing to persuade the criminals to kiss the crucifix before they were launched into eternity, but they kicked him off, and spat in his face, telling him he was no better than themselves.