In the midst of this horrid slaughter, one man among the rear prisoners, with great presence of mind and the most undaunted courage, turned and advanced to the soldiers, amidst the fire of hundreds, and while his fellow-prisoners were falling all around him, and in an humble and suppliant manner, with his hat in his hand, this resolute soul, in the face of danger and death, implored mercy of Capt. Shortland to spare his countrymen. “O! spare my countrymen!” he cried, “O! Captain, forbear, don’t kill us all.” To this supplication, this cruel, inexorable Shortland replied, “Retire, you dammed rascal; I’ll hear to nothing.” The soldiers then pricked him with their bayonets, which compelled him to retreat to the prison door, where he must wait his doom with the other unfortunate prisoners, till the soldiers, who had now entered the different prison yards, and were pursuing and firing should dispatch him with the rest. To do justice to the merits of this young man, I must inform the public that his name is Greenlow, of Virginia, and late a midshipman in the United States navy, but now a prisoner of the crew of the privateer Prince of Neufchattel. The soldiers now advanced, making a general massacre of men and boys, whom accident or impossibility had left without the doors of the prison; they advanced near to the crowded doors, and instantly discharged another volley of musketry on the backs of those farthest out, endeavoring to force their passage into the prison. This barbarous act was repeated in the presence of this inhuman monster, Shortland--and the prisoners fell, either dead or severely wounded, in all directions, before his savage sight. But his vengeance was not glutted by the cruel murder of the innocent men and boys that lay weltering and bleeding in the groans and agonies of death along the prison-doors, but turned and traversed the yard, and hunted a poor affrighted wretch, that had flew for safety close under the walls of prison No. 1, and dared not move lest he should be discovered, and immediate death be his lot. But, alas! the unhappy man was discovered by these hell-hounds, with this demon at their head, and with cool and deliberate malice, drew up their muskets to their shoulders and despatched the unhappy victim, while in the act of imploring mercy from their hands. His only crime was not being able to get into the prison without being shot before. In the yard of No. 7, they found in their hunt another hapless victim, crouching close along the wall at the far end of the yard, and fearing to breathe, lest he should share the fate of his unfortunate countrymen that had already fallen a sacrifice to the rage of this lawless banditti; when, O! cruel to relate, five of them drew up the instruments of death, and by the order of this fell murderer, discharged their contents into the body of this innocent man, while begging them to spare his life!