Ten of the pirates captured by the British sloop of War Tyne, were
executed at Kingston, Jamaica, on Friday, the 7th of February, 1823.
About a quarter of an hour before day dawn, the wretched culprits were
taken from the jail, under a guard of soldiers from the 50th regiment,
and the City Guard. On their arrival at the wherry wharf, the military
retired, and the prisoners, with the Town Guard were put on board two
wherries, in which they proceeded to Port Royal Point, the usual place
of execution in similar cases. They were there met by a strong party of
military, consisting of 50 men, under command of an officer. They formed
themselves into a square round the place of execution, with the Sheriff
and his officers with the prisoners in the centre. The gallows was of
considerable length, and contrived with a drop so as to prevent the
unpleasant circumstances which frequently occur.
The unfortunate men had been in continual prayer from the time they were
awakened out of a deep sleep till they arrived at that place, where they
were to close their existence.
They all expressed their gratitude for the attention they had met with
from the Sheriff and the inferior officers. Many pressed the hands of
the turnkey to their lips, others to their hearts, and, on their knees,
prayed that God, Jesus Christ, and the Virgin Mary, would bless him and
the other jailers for their goodness. They all then fervently joined in
prayer. To the astonishment of all, no clerical character, of any
persuasion, was present. They repeatedly called out, “Adonde esta el
padre,” (Where is the holy father.)
Juan Hernandez called on all persons present to hear him—he was
innocent; what they had said about his confessing himself guilty was
untrue. He had admitted himself guilty, because he hoped for pardon; but
that now he was to die, he called God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost, the
Virgin Mary, and the Saints, to witness that he spoke truth—that he was
no pirate, no murderer—he had been forced. The Lieutenant of the pirates
was a wretch, who did not fear God, and had compelled him to act.
Juan Gutterez and Francisco de Sayas were loud in their protestations of
innocence.
Manuel Lima said, for himself, he did not care; he felt for the old man
(Miguel Jose.) How could he be a pirate who could not help himself? If
it were a Christian country, they would have pardoned him for his gray
hairs. He was innocent—they had both been forced. Let none of his
friends and relations ever venture to sea—he hoped his death would be a
warning to them, that the innocent might suffer for the guilty. The
language of this young man marked him a superior to the generality of
his companions in misfortune. The seamen of the Whim stated that he was
very kind to them when prisoners on board the piratical vessel. Just
before he was turned off, he addressed the old man—“Adios viejo, para
siempre adios.”—(Farewell, old man, for ever farewell.)
Several of the prisoners cried out for mercy, pardon, pardon.
Domingo Eucalla, the black man, then addressed them. “Do not look for
mercy here, but pray to God; we are all brought here to die. This is not
built for nothing; here we must end our lives. You know I am innocent,
but I must die the same as you all. There is not any-body here who can
do us any good, so let us think only of God Almighty. We are not
children but men, you know that all must die; and in a few years those
who kill us must die too. When I was born, God set the way of my death;
I do not blame any body. I was taken by the pirates, and they made me
help them; they would not let me be idle. I could not show that this was
the truth, and therefore they have judged me by the people they have
found me with. I am put to death unjustly, but I blame nobody. It was my
misfortune. Come, let us pray. If we are innocent, so much the less we
have to repent. I do not come here to accuse any one. Death must come
one day or other; better to the innocent than guilty.” He then joined in
prayer with the others. He seemed to be much reverenced by his fellow
prisoners. He chose those prayers he thought most adapted to the
occasion. Hundreds were witnesses to the manly firmness of this negro.
Observing a bystander listening attentively to the complaints of one of
his fellow wretches, he translated what had been said into English. With
a steady pace, and a resolute and resigned countenance, he ascended the
fatal scaffold. Observing the executioner unable to untie a knot on the
collar of one of the prisoners, he with his teeth undid it. He then
prayed most fervently till the drop fell.
Miguel Jose protested his innocence.—“No he robado, no he matado
ninguno, muero inocente.”—(I have robbed no one, I have killed no one, I
die innocent. I am an old man, but my family will feel my disgraceful
death.)
Francisco Miguel prayed devoutly, but inaudibly. His soul seemed to have
quitted the body before he was executed.
Breti Gullimillit called on all to witness his innocence; it was of no
use for him to say an untruth for he was going before the face of God.
Augustus Hernandez repeatedly declared his innocence, requested that no
one would say he had made a confession; he had none to make.
Juan Hernandez was rather obstinate when the executioner pulled the cap
over his eyes. He said, rather passionately—“Quita is de mis
ojos.”—(Remove it from my eyes.) He then rubbed it up against one of the
posts of the gallows.
Miguel Jose made the same complaint, and drew the covering from his eyes
by rubbing his head against a fellow sufferer.
Pedro Nondre was loud in his ejaculations for mercy. He wept bitterly.
He was covered with the marks of deep wounds.
The whole of the ten, included in the death warrant, having been placed
on the scaffold, and the ropes suspended, the drop was let down. Nondre
being an immense heavy man, broke the rope, and fell to the ground
alive. Juan Hernandez struggled long. Lima was much convulsed. The old
man Gullimillit, and Miguel, were apparently dead before the drop fell.
Eucalla (the black man) gave one convulsion, and all was over.
When Nondre recovered from the fall and saw his nine lifeless companions
stretched in death, he gave an agonizing shriek; he wrung his hands,
screamed “Favor, favor, me matan sin causa. O! buenos Christianos, me
amparen, ampara me, ampara me, no hay Christiano en asta, tiara?”
(Mercy, mercy, they kill me without cause—Oh, good Christians, protect
me, protect me, oh, protect me. Is there no Christian in this land.)
He then lifted his eyes to Heaven, and prayed long and loud. Upon being
again suspended, he was for a long period convulsed. He was an immense
powerful man, and died hard.