Gass F^f) Book Tj: V INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND 'ADVENTURES OF ONE OF THOSE WHO WAS SHOT AT TAMPICO With Twenty^Seveii of* his Companions, DECEMBER 14th, 1835, WITH A LIST OF ALL THEIR NAMES, TOGETHER WITH THE LETTERS Which were Written by the Sufferers, •' The moving accident is not my trade; To freeze the blood I have no ready arts; 'Tis my delight alone in summer's shade To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts." NEW-YORK: PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR. 1836. / / 4 TO THE PUBLIC. This Pamphlet contains a short account of the life of one of those unfortunate Men who was made a prisoner by the Mexicans, with twenty-seven other deluded followers, in the rash and unfortunate expedition against Tampico, by Gen, Mexia, and were shot on the morning of the 14th December, 1835. It will no doubt be very interesting, giving a brief sketch of his own life, together with a list ot Persons that suffered with him-^and will be sold at the moderate price of ONE SHILLING. »- m LIFE AND ADVENTURES. I am an American by birth, and glory in the name; I was born in the town of E — , county of C. my Parents were in humble circumstances, but respectable, my Father was a far- mer, and had seven children, of which I was the eldest, and my Parents intended to give me as liberal an education as their means would allow, (as I was very delicate, and they were fearful in my youthful days that I was in a decline) and prepare me for the ministry ; but Providence has decreed it otherwise. I was sent to a most respectable school under the charge of Mr. E., one of the best of men, and an excellent scholar, where I remained three years, and prepared for Col- lege, but at that time I took a wild notion in my head of go- ing to sea, which almost broke the hearts of my dear Parents, and they endeavored all in their power to persuade me from such a mad career, but I would not listen to their kind and af- fectionate advice, (the Devil leading me on) and after my Par- ents found that all their entreaties were of no avail they con- sented to my going a voyage, trusting that if I was spared I •would return and relinquish such a life. My dear Alother then began to make preparations for my departure, and to get me such things as I would stand in need of for my com- fort, when I was far away from her, and toss'd about on the boisterous Ocean. After all things were ready, I left my Brothers and Sisters, and my dear Parent, with many pray- ers offered up to the throne of grace, for my safe return, and started for the city of B — , with my Father, where we arriv- ed after a few hours, and put up at the house of Mr. H y who I think was an excellent man, and who did all in his power to try and persuade me to give up the idea of going to sea, and return home. I must confess I almost began to repent, but the idea of returning and being laughed at by my young companions, made me determined to "go-ahead." After a few days my Father was successful by the letters of introduction that he brought with him, and obtained me a sitr uation as a green-hand on board of a Merchant-man bound to L — . The ship then hauled out into the stream, and after I Jiad been to the Custom-house, and received my Protection, I was taken on board, and we then laid there for three or four days ; but I must confess within my own mind, I wish- ed myself safe home again, for every thing was quite differr ent to what I had ever been accustomed to — for instance, to see the men eat out of Tubs (as I called them, but what are termed by Seamen, Kidds,) without a fork or a plate, with their tarry hands, fairly made me shudder — and therefore I lived upon the little nick-nacks, as long as any remained, but at last necessity compelled nie to have to do as they did, and in a short time I could eat my allowance as well as any on board. Whilst laying in the stream I used to cast my eyes up and think to myself I can never go aloft — the officers nev- er attempted to send me up until we reached the Gulf-stream, "we then had been at sea, I think, two or three days, and night setting in, it began to blow, and the thunder and lightning was awful, and for rain it fell in torrents, {to a per- son who has never seen a storm at sea, it is impossible to de- scribe it.) It was so dark that you could not see your hand before your face, except when a flash of lightning would come, and the sea was running mountains high, and had the appearance of being all on fire, and the thunder rolled as if it ■would shake the whole universe, when the mate ordered me to go up on the top-sail yard, and help the men reef the top- sail, I told him I could'nt, I would fall overboard, he used a tremendous oath and taking a piece of rope flogged me up. — I then wished I could have been at home, but alas ! it was too late — but I put my trust in him who was able to save me to the uttermost, and after several months voyage, I once more returned to my native land, enjoying the best of health —and was soon in the embraces of my dear Parents. I was not long on land before I was anj^ious to be again ploughing the mighty deep, and in less than six weeks from the time of my arrival at home, I again took my depar- ture for the W. I. islands. We had a very tempestuous voy- age, and had to throw over the greater part of our deck load, which consisted of lumber, and once or twice we thought that we should be buried in the bosom of the Oc(?an ; but the Lord ordered it otherwise, and we at last arrived safe into port at the Island of J — . But our troubles did not end here. The weather being extremely hot, and the Crew exposing themselves to the [night dews, and drinking new liquor, sev- eral were taken with the yellow fever, and we lost three "Whilst we were in port, and another died the second day af- ter we got to sea ; and therefore we had to make for the nearest harbor in the U. States. I then remained on shore for several months, and instructed in a Gentleman's family, but not liking confinement, I was determined to follow the bent of my inclinations, and go again to sea. I then took a voyage around the Cape of Good hope, to the East Indies, and I must say I was never more pleased wdth a voyage than I was with this. It is astonishing to behold the swell of the sea before it approaches you you will perceive it for a mile in distance coming like a high mountain to devour you, but by the time it is up with you, you can be prepared to meet it, and that is what makes those long swells (as they are called) more safe than the little crabbed seas in the Atlantic Ocean — And then when lying too off the Cape in a gale of wind, you have fine past time in catching Cape Pigeons, and a large Bird the size of a Turkey, called the Albatros. The manner of catching or fishing for these birds, are as follows : For the Pigeons you take a pin hook, and for the Albatros you have a regular fish hook, and putting a piece of pork on the hook, you let if out over the stern of the ship, and it will float on the surface of the water, and then one of the hands forward will throw over what the Sailors call slush, (or the fat taken from the Coppers after heef or pork is boiled,) and as the slush drops in the wake of the ship the birds will alight, and taking hold of the bate, they get hooked, and you haul them on board, and when once on board they canjjot rise again. I could not help smiling to myself to see the old Sai- lors take the Pigeons, which are nothing but bones covered with feathers, and make what they call a sea-pye, something similar to a pot pye at home ; but I could not eat it myself it was too rank to be good. We also had the misfortune to lose a young man overboard; we had been lying too in a gale of wind, and when the weather moderated he went aloft to lend a hand to loose the Fore-top-sail, and he being on the lee-yard-arm the ship gave a heavy lurch, and he fell over board, and he cried out for God sake save me. We did all we could — but it was in vain, he had dropt a-stern, and his spirit had taken its flight to the legions above where the wea- ry are at rest, and the wicked cease from troubling. — Poor fellow, he was the only support of an aged Mother and two Sisters. And what must have been their agonizing feelings "when they heard of the death of him whom they looked lip to in the hour of distress. We then passed the straits of Sunda, and frequently in a calm, the natives (in a state of nakedness) would come off from the shore in their Canoea with fruit, such as bananas, plantains, cocoa-nuts, oranges, lemons, &c. &c., to trade with us, for which we would give them in exchange, brass buttons, old jack-knives, brass rings, &c. &c., but we could never persuade them to come on board, they would point at our cannonades, and tell us they heard them go hang, hang, hang, as we frequently through the night would fire signals to another ship, that was in company with us going through the straits — except in one instance, one day we were entirely becalmed and a canoe came off to trade with us, and in the canoe were two old men and a little boy about twelve years old: After a great deal of persuasion they permitted the little fellow to come on board. We then took him and, as the Sailors say, rigged him out with a suit of Clothes, shoes, hat, 8fc., but he was entirely out of his element, he did not like to be so encumbered, and the old men said that as soon as they got on shore, their King would take them away from him. Nothing more occurred of any consequence, and we at last arrived safe at Canton. I cannot say much about it as I was only at the City for a day or two ; the ship Hay sixteen miles below at a place called Whampo, where all the American vessels lie — and the cargoes are brought down the river by the Chinese. The country being over populat- ed, thousands of families are born and brought up on the riv- er, and the Chinese will sell rats and puppies to make pies of, and generally speaking they are the greatest set of Thieves in the world. The Chinese Empire is very extensive, and the people in many respects are singular. The towns and cities of Chi-ia are surrounded by high walls, and none but Chinese are suffered to enter them. The people shave their hair, but let a long queue grow out behind, which is plaited, and hangs down the back. The women think small feet very beautiful, so they wear small wooden shoes, or tight band- ages which make their feet so small that they cannot walk, but waddle along like a duck. The inhabitants of China know how to build houses, and are very ingenious in their manu- factures, but they have by no means so much knowledge of the various arts which are necessary to make life comforta- ble and happy as we have. When a ship arrives here, boats will come along side with Tartar girls on board for to engage for your washing ; they will wash and mend for the Sailors all the time that the ship is in port, and when they are go- ing to sail they have to pay these girls one dollar our money, and they then present the Sailors with a pot of preserved oranges, and Ching Ching, their Josh, {as they call it, that is worship their Idol) for a fair wind to send the ship safe home. 9' After we had taken in our cargo, consisting of teas, &.c., we' sailed and passed in sight of the Island of St. Helena, which is noted as having been the place to which Napoleon Bona- parte was sent, and where he died. It is a rocky Island, far in the sea, and a lonely and desolate place. On our homeward bound passage we made the Cape of Good Hope, but it was at night, and therefore f did not get a view of it. We had a pleasant passage with only one excep- tion, that in the Gulph Stream, as we were laying too, we were struck with lightning, which injured one man consider- ably, and shattered our spars, but we soon repaired damages,^ and had all things snug once more, and in a few days was again safe in port. I now Returned home to visit my dear Parents, after an absence of one year, having made a pros- Eerous voyage, and anticipating a great deal of pleasure and appiness in their society and that of my friends ; but alas ! how vain are the things of this world — for before I had reach- ed the place of my nativity, I heard of the death of my Moth- er, who had departed this life suddenly ; but a few moments before her decease she appeared to be enjoying good health, and the prospect of many years to live in this world ; but she was too good, too kind a Parent and neighbor, and the Lord of the Vineyard thought it best to take her to himself. She was an affectionate Parent, but not foolishly so, her word was her bond, and what she said could be relied upon, and if I have ever had any good or religious principles instill- ed into me, it was my dear departed Mother that first incul- cated them, for many prayers have I heard her at the dead hour of night offer up for the welfare of her children, and to see us night and morning on our bended knees with her Twho is now gone) supplicating the Throne of Grace, would nave made a heart of stone melt. I am confident there is a reality in religion that the world knows nothing of ; but at the same time I am fearful their are many, too many who make outward professions to appear to the world as christians, but inwardly their is no sincerity — to those I would only say, beware ! the greater will be your condemnation — and to you who are sin- cere press forward, put your trust in God and fear not what man can do unto you, and although all your friends and ac- quaintances should discard you, and you should be considered as an outcast in the world, yet if you are sincere, and wear the armour of righteousness, you will finally be received into that Kingdom not made with hands but eternal in the hea- vens. I confess I have been wild and imprudent myself, and what the world may call wicked, (but I have more charity for my felloXo btings than they have for mc — but I will sou in t/i-s 2 Id icords of Stephen, " let him that never sinneth cast the first stone,^^ and I think ive should all be found wanting,) — but in my most gay moments, and after I have been with my ship- mates on shore, when I have returned and been alone and be- gan to reflect, I have thought of my departed parent's advice and the prayers and suppUcations she has offered for me, and I have wept and prayed to God to forcive me those sins that most easily beset me, and to change my heart — for what is life that we should desire to remain here, how much better I may say glorious, is it for us " to depart and be at rest" — and I think in the words of a celebrated Poet — "A cloudy day,lit up by transient g-leams, The fearful brightnsss of a shooting star; The dazzling loveliness of fleeting dreams, Which frowning phantoms in succession move — Such, such is life ! A bowl which sparkles brightly at its brim, But soon upon the sated palate falls ; A Bun-bright view, which shadows quickly dim; A strain — whose music or no echo falls : — Such, such is life ! O for a state more glorious far than this ! Where mutability no more is known ; But souls redeemed, partaking heavenly bliss, With humble gratitude and praise rny own — This, this is life !" My Father taking the death of my Mother very much to heart, was desirous that I should now stay at home with him, and I concluded that I would, and therefore commenced teach- ing in the vicinity of my native place, and in a short time I had quite a respectable school. Nothing occurred to mar my happiness for two years, and having in the course of that time become acquainted with a young lady whom I thought in ev- ery way adequate to make me a happy companion through the journey of life, I offered her my hand, which was accept- ed, and the time appointed, and every thing was nearly in readiness, when alas ! without the least excuse, she gave her hand to another — (oh ! thou false ! but fair one) — without my knowledge — which so worked upon my feelings, that I had to relinquish m.y school, and for several months my health was despaired of, as it preyed so upon me : She thought she was doing better because she was agoing to have a man that could command more property, as money seemed to be her idol ; but in less than six months she repented of 11 her rash act, as he did not prove to be the kind, indulgent hut- band she thought he would make. Every thing was done by my friends to cheer up my drooping spirits, but it was all in vain. The Physicians then recommended a change of scene as the last remedy to restore me to health. It was then con- cluded upon that I should take a voyage to sea; I therefore once more, but with different feelings to what I ever had ex- perienced before, left my feather's house. I felt I know not how, and it appeared to me as if life was a burthen, as my expectations had been blasted. I arrived at the city of B — and took passage on board of the Brig S — , bound to one of the W. I. Islands, and after a few days we set sail, and had a prosperous and pleasant passage, and my health began to be reinstated, as I did not feel so desponding, although I confess at times I could not help having a gloomy sensation pass over me. After having been absent several months, I prepared to return again to the U. States, and took passage on board of a schooner; and we had a good run, and every thing bid fair until the evening of the fifth day, when the weather began to look very squally. The Captain had every thing put in good order, the schooner was under easy sail, and made as we trusted snug for the night. But alas! how vain is the strength of man, for before the midnight watch it blew a complete hurricane, and we could not carry a stitch of canvass, and a short time after we carried av/ay our topmast, and a heavy sea struck us amidships, which carried away our galley, and with it the poor little cabin boy, and every thing that came in its way. We were then almost a complete wreck, the vessel unmanageable, being right in the trough of the sea, and we expected nothing else but to find a watery grave. Wo then got a spare spar that we had, and bending it with the small cable, we paid it out into the sea, which kept our head to the wind, and we laid the remainder of the night like a duck — and towards morning the gale abated some, but on- ly to begin fresh, for about 10 o'clock it commenced again, and blew more violent than ever, and we were compelled to cut away the foremast, and in a short time a sea struck us that laid us upon our beam ends. We then did all we could to save ourselves, and had it not have been for a ship that hove in sight we must evidently have perished, for in a short time after having been taken from the wreck she went down. — We then had to alter our course, and instead of returning home v.'e had to go to London, as the ship was bound there. London is the metropolis of England, and is an immense city, being seven miles in length and five miles in width. The IS Thames passess through it, across which is one bridge oi Iron, and several of stone — an attempt has also been made to con- struct a tunnel or road under the river, so that persons, carts, and carriages might pass beneath, while the river with its thousands of brats is flowing in its channel above their heads. This work is partly executed, but further operations are at preseut suspended. In crossing the ocean we must expect to meet with our share of adventures. Taking leave of our friends we again departed-^-the sails filled — and we leave Lon- don bound to Lisbon, the Capital of Portugal : it has a fine bar bor, and is one of the most commercial cities in Europe, it has a great trade in wines and fruits with the U. States and Eng- land. But previous to leaving Lisbon I became acquainted with an American family, that put me in mind " of days gone by," and I quote these verses as appropriate to one of that much beloved circle of friends — " Forget thee, Mary ! — no, not yet, Too pleasing is the pensive debt Which memory owes to thee ; Not out of mind, though out of sight, While retrospection claims her right, And friendship can afford delight, From all such fears be free. For whom would mero.ory's magic art, Wish to enshrine within the heart ? Oh, would it not be one Simple, ingenuous, modest, meek ; Whose praise we scarcely dare to speak, So much her eye, and changing cheek, Each plaudit seems to shun 1 Whose gentle manners, void of art, Can cheer, and charm that wounded heart, Which beauty could not bow : Such live in memory's ear and eye, Endeared by many a tender tie, * And though remote, are very nigh, And such, dear friend, art thou. Yet lovely as thou art, not thine The praise alone : for this one line I know thou'lt not reprove me ; Young as thou art, thou know'st from wlienc», Thy brighter charms of soul and sense ; Be he who gave them, their defence, -^nd all who know must love thee. 13 We having now our cargo on board, once nmore set sail with a fair wind, for our native land, and in a gale of wind fifteen .days out, one of the seamen fell from aloft, (it blowing fresh,) and dislocated his arm, and two days afterwards another man, who had been at the helm during a severe thunder gust, whilst the remainder of the watch were sheltered from the storm, {being an infidel) cursed the thunder and lightning and them that sent it, when in an instant a thunder bolt struck him speechless ; he was immediately taken into the Cabin, and being bled he soon came too, but was for several days unable to do his duty, and what was more remarkable, his breath was so strong of sulphur, that it was almost impos- sible to approach him. This awakened him to a sense of his duty, and made him acknowledge that their was a Su- preme Being, and it was a judgement inflicted upon him for jiis blasphemous language. Nothing more occurred of any consequence during our passage, except that we caught a Shark about fourteen feet in length, which, when we got on board and opened, we found a part of a Man's arm in him. After having thrown over the carcase, we caused the arm to be sown up in a piece of canvass and committed to the deep. Having again reached the place of my nativity, what were my feelings to find that my Father had also paid the last debt, and had gone " to that bourne from whence no traveller re- turns.'''' He departed as he had lived, a Christian, and prov- ed to the world that nothing could soothe the pangs of death Jike pure and undefiled religion, and a firm belief in the aton- jng blood of Jesus— and to use the words of a celebrated Poet: " Thou art gone to the land of the leal, and the bell Is mournfully tolling thy funeral knell ; Within the dark coffin is pillow'd thy head, And without it the pall for a covering spread ; From the home which tliy presence so long has endear'd Where thy smiles were beloved, and thy worth was revered To the last earthly home, where thy reliques shall rest, Thou art journeying in peace ! Be thy memory blest !" r now remained at home, with the intention of settling my father's business, and seeing my brothers and sisters provided for, my eldest sister having got married, (a short time previ- ous to the death of our beloved father,) and to a very respec- table mechanic ; she took possession of our domicil, and is not only a sister, but a mother to the younger children. Having been at home now some length of time, and still feeling rather 14 melancholy, I concluded I would go to New Orleani. After having been there sometime, I embarked, on the 6th Novem^ ber last, with about 130 men, composed of Americans, French and Germans, two-thirds of which were of the first n.imed class, (including three who were natives of foreign nations, but naturalized,) on board of the American shooner Mary Jane, Capt. Hall, said to have been chartered or employed by a committee, of which Mr. WiUiam Christy of New Or- leans, was agent, to convey emigrants to Texas, but what were my feelings I cannot describe when after having been at sea a few days, I found it was not the intention of taking us to Texas, but we had to go to Tampico, and there against our own will, take up arms against the Mexicans, and hav- ing been made prisoners, w-e have now to suffer the penalties of the Law. From a Declaration which has been signed by us nine hours previous to the time at which we are to meet our unhappy fate, we prove to the world, that we die inno- cent — and trust our Country will avenge our wrongs. — I hope my dear Relatives and friends when they hear of my untimely fate will not weep with sorrow, for I go rejoicing as I have nothing in this world that I have a desire to remain for " it is better to depar't and be at rest. I pray the Lord will have mercy upon me, (and my unfortunate Companions) and support us in the trying moment, and that our spirits will as- cend into Heaven, and at the sound of the last trump we shall meet with those that are near and dear unto us, never to tie separated again. Declaration. The following declaration was signed by the unfortunate Victims who were recently shot at Tampico, as their farewell address to their friends in the United States : " We, the undersigned, prisoners of war, condenmed to be shot on Monday next, at 7 P. M. by a nnilitary court martial, conformable to the established customs of the country, and composed of officers of the Mexican army, the sentence being read and interpreted to us on Saturday at 4 P. M. by Captain Alexander Faulac of said army, as our last dying words, do declare ourselves innocent of the charge of either participa- ting or colleaguing with any person or party, having for its object the revolutionizing or disturbing in any manner the tranquility of the government of Mexico, and that the testi- mony given before the honorable court of enquiry will cor- roborate this declaration, the facts and circumstances being briefly as follows : This opportunity afforded many in low pecuniary circum- stances a passage free, which was readily embraced and ac- cepted of. The terms agreed upon were, that it was option- al whether the party took up arms in defence of Texas or not ; that they were at full liberty to act as they pleased when landed on the Texian shore. That taking advantage of this favorable opportunity they accordingly embarked — the vessel proceeded on the voyage, and nothing transpired to indicate that all was not right as it should be, until the 6th day we were o-ut from Balize, although it had been previous- ly understood that a general, with his officers cr stafl^ was on board the vessel, whose design it was to act in concert with the Texians, and induce us to join him. Of this however we received no certain assent, but the truth is — Tampico was our destination and an attack on the city, the design, which was now evident, and not before — the land being in sight and the vessel standing in, it was announced that it Tampico ; that the steamboat then also in sight would have us in tow, and Tampico would be in our possession. Elated with this harrangue proceeding from the authority (through the instru- mental, ty of captain Hawkins, one of the aids) of general Mehia, some were induced to join his standard, but of these the number could not have exceeded fiftv, thirty-five of whom- 16 were French and Creoles, of New Orleans, who doubtless had a previous understanding, they being exclusively privi- leged, having the quarter deck to themselves, and seemingly armed and equipped prematurely. The boat had us in tow soon, and all that could be crammed below were driven there, until she struck the bar, and the steamboat soon afterwards. In this awful predicament, night closing on us, the sea break- ing over, us, efforts were used to reach the shore, which at imminent danger was effected safely, and we were all landed during the latter part of the night and early part of the morn- ing of the following day. A formidable fort surrendered without an attack, and we built fires to dry our clothing. The party were now tendered arms and ammunition, and never having been soldiers before, some probably took them from curiosity, others from necessity, and others from com- pulsion ; and it is asserted and believed that no one person was or had been acquainted with two others of the number of us, so added to the hurry and bustle of the officers, that be- fore we could have an understanding we were commingled and bundled together more like a herd or drove of swine than a company of soldiers competent to act as such, particularly against regular trained soldiery. At about five P. M. on Sunday we were formed and made ready tor the attack, ha- ving added to our number about from thirty-five to fifty citi- zens, soldiers, or adherents, and which were all judged to be Mexicans, a number being fellow prisoners with us, but with- out trial to this moment. Having no other resource we were necessarily compelled from obvious reasons reluctantly to join the party ; with a full determination not to act in concert with it, but submit ourselves as prisoners of war, having no design or intention to fight, the undersigned, from motives of conscience and oppression, added to the shameful abduction or deception practised on us, choosing to throw ourselves on the clemency and mercy of the authorities. And this being the substance of our testimony before the court, yet notwith- standing, mark the result which has terminated, not an igno- minious, but christianlike death. Trusting in God and bear- ing in mind his promise and with our trust in his mercies, we die both as christians and men. We have now but nine hours alotted us, and conclude has- tily requesting all who may hear of our fate to entertain no erroneous impression." Signed, &c. LIST Of persons shot at Tampico, at 8 o'clock in the momtjjg, nfthe 14fh December, 1835. Arthur H. Clement, of Phila. Thos. Whitaker, Win. C. Barclay, Jacob Morrison. Edward Mount. Chas. (iross, Isaac F. Leeds, Mordscai Girt, David Long, Wm. H. Makay, Jonas K. Stuart, Daniel Holt, , James (>ramp, Lewis Jacob, John Martin Ives, Thos. H. Rogers, Daniel Donelly, Jas. Farrell, Auguste Sausseur, Demeussent, Fred. Debois, Fred. Wm. Marier, Henry Wagner, John Irish, Andrews Helm, George Iselin, L. M. Belbpont, Wm. H. Morris, " do. <' N. Y. " do. " do. " Penn. " N. J., " Md. " Ohio, " Va. " Vt. " Canada, " England, " do. " do. *' Ireland, do. " do. " Franc 3, "■ do. " Dantzic, " Germany, " do. " do. " do. '' do. " Hanover, N. I- ro. aged 40 it 30 ti 20 « 21 a 23 It 23 u 30 <( 53 f heaven. I now sign my name to this last epistle and earnestly request your pray- ers for the salvation oi Yonr unfortunate and sacrificed Son, JAMES CRAMP. • A lock of his own hair. 21 Tampico Prison, Dec. 13th, 1835. Dear Father and Mother— When you receive this I shall b3 in my j];rave. I shipped from New Orleans for Braze, Texas, withoni the knowledge of any of our friends, and was forced to put into Tampico, aird there made prisoner, and am to be shot, toi^^ether with twunty-seven ethers, to-morrow morning .it seven o'clock. Give my K)ve to my brothers and sisters. I hope you "will not mourn for my death, as I shall die perfectly happy. Your affectionate Son, WM. C. BARKLEY. The following letter is also from one of the unfortunate young men : '* I will in as few wonls as possible, give you intelligence of my late — which is an untimely one — I, together with twenty-seven of my companions, am to be SHOT, according to orders given us by a court martial of Mexican soldiers and officers, for an aitack on this city on the night of the 15th No- vember last. It would be idle to give you a description of the battle, you have probably heard of it. During the en- gagement, 1 received a wound in the head by a ball, and an- otner through the right hand, in consequence I have been in the hospital until this afternoon, from the morning of the bat- tle. For my own part, 1 am perfectly resigned to the fate which awaits me. No money can snve us — even five thousand dol- lars was offered tor any one individual ; there was likewise offered one hundred thousand dollars as a ransom, but they refused it, thinking that the example of our slaughter will de- ter others from the cause of liberty. This is a regular massacre : we should have been treated as prisoners ot war. I hope the Americans will avenge our death — I have only a few hours to live — God bless you all. I can write no more. Farewell.'" The object of the Mexicans was not only to kill these un- fortunate Men, but to make them suffer as much as possible before this was affected — lor this purpose, their guns were fired within a few paces of their bodies, and aimed at those parts which would not cause instantaneous death ; this is why some of them were shot ten or fifteen times, before life became extinct. Their clothes were set on fire by the wad*' ding of the guns, and suffered to burn off' them. Among the number shot, were two youths, apparently about 17 years of age. A large pit was dug, and after thesa unfortunate but brave men were stripped of their shoes and boots, they were indiscriminately thrown in. A few mo» ments before they were shot, one of them, an American, im- plored the guards in the presence of a priest, for a drink of water, which was refused ? Among those who were shot, we learn the names of Wm. H. Morris. J. Ives, engineer, and a Mr. Demeusent, who in a particular manner distinguished himself with a courage atid firmness ssldoin equalled. On his executioners wishing to tie a bandage round his eyes, he indignantly repulsed them. Do you think, said he, I am afraid to look death in the face ? No ! — I die the death of a martyr of liberty — he then ordered the soldiers to shoot, and on the first fire, more fortunate than the rest, he was killed. He did every thing to inspire his comrades with courage and resignation, and to meet their fate as became men. Two hours before the execution, Mr. D. wrote a song to the air of the Marseilles hymn, which he sung from the jail to the place of execution. •' Thou sleep'st far from the land cf tliy birth, But thy name and thy memory are dear ; And, though foreign thy grave, its fresh earth, Closing o'er thee, was wet with a tear. The warm tear of affection ! cs true, As sincere, and as kind, as if drawn From fond eyes, which hero wept for thee too, And had watch'd thee from Infancy's morn. But though bitter the tidings appear'd Which told us that thou wert no more ; And though painful it was, ere we feai'd, To find that suspense was all o'er : And though mournful it was, as we read The last record thy lov? had addrest. To reflect that it came from — the dead ! Now, for thee, every care is at rest. Thou art number'd with those who can know Neither sickness, nor sorrow, nor pain ; From whose bright eyes no tears ever flow. And whom death cannot conquer again. For their God dwells among them ; — and thoy See his face, and rejoice inits light ; And his presence is pledge of their