"
The poor captain--who, after sleeping four hours, had recovered his
senses, and felt all the horror of his situation--wept, screamed, tore
his hair, laid hold of my coat, from which only the strength of my men
could disengage him. He clung to life with a passion of feeling which
I never saw in a criminal condemned by the law; he fell on his knees
before me, as he appealed to us all, collectively and separately; he
reminded us of his wife and starving children at Baltimore, and he
implored us to think of them and of our own.
I was melted to tears, I confess; but my men heard him with the most
stoical unconcern. Two of them threw him over to the opposite side of
the deck; and before he could recover from the violence of the fall,
pushed me into the boat, and shoved off. The wretched man had by this
time crawled over to the side we had just left; and throwing himself
on his knees, again screamed out, "Oh, mercy, mercy, mercy!--For God's
sake, have mercy, if you expect any!--Oh, God! my wife and babes!"
His prayers, I lament to say, had no effect on the exasperated seamen.
He then fell into a fit of cursing and blasphemy, evidently bereft of
his senses; and in this state he continued for some minutes, while we
lay alongside, the bowman holding on with the boat-hook only. I was
secretly determined not to leave him, although I foresaw a mutiny in
the boat in consequence. At length, I gave the order to shove off. The
unhappy captain, who, till that moment, might have entertained some
faint hope from the lurking compassion which he perceived I felt for
him, now resigned himself to despair of a more sullen and horrible
aspect.
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