I must make a long story short. Two days afterwards, I was ordered with the launch to Kingston, early in the morning, to receive twenty-five of the pirates who had been ordered for execution that morning at Gallows Point. It was little past four in the morning when we arrived at the Wherry wharf, where they were already clustered, with their hands pinioned behind their backs, silent and sad, but all of them calm, and evincing no unmanly fear of death. I don’t know if other people have noticed it, but this was one of several instances where I have seen foreigners--Frenchmen, Italians, and Spaniards, for instance--meet death, inevitable death, with greater firmness than British soldiers or sailors. Let me explain. In the field, or grappling in mortal combat, on the blood-slippery quarterdeck of an enemy’s vessel, British soldier or sailor is the bravest of the brave. No soldier or sailor of any other country, saving and excepting those damned Yankees, can stand against them--they would be utterly overpowered--their hearts would fail them--they would either be cut down thrust through, or they would turn and flee. Yet those same men who have turned and fled, will meet death, but it must be as I said, inevitable, unavoidable death, not only more firmly than their conquerors would do in their circumstances, but with an intrepidity oh, do not call it indifference!--altogether astonishing. Be it their religion, or their physical conformation, or what it may, all I have to do with, is the fact, which I record as undeniable. Out of five-and twenty individuals, in the present instance, not a sigh was heard, nor a moan, nor a querulous word. They stepped lightly into the boats, and seated themselves in silence. When told by the seamen to make room, or to shift so as not to be in the way of the oars, they did so with alacrity, and almost with an air of civility, although they knew that within half an hour their earthly career must close for ever. The young Spaniard who had stood forward so conspicuously on the trial, was in my boat; in stepping in he accidentally trod on my foot in passing forward; he turned and apologized, with much natural politeness “he hoped he had not hurt me?” I answered kindly, I presume--who could have done so harshly? This emboldened him apparently, for he stopped, and asked leave to sit by me. I consented, while an incomprehensible feeling crept over me; and when once I had time to recollect myself, I shrunk from him, as a blood stained brute, with whom even in his extremity it was unfitting for me to hold any intercourse. When he noticed my repugnance to remain near him, he addressed me hastily, as if afraid that I would destroy the opportunity he seemed to desire.