gladdened by the cheering conviction that, however facts may be
distorted by sycophancy, men who view things in their proper
colours will do me the justice I deserve.

You address me as though I required to be convinced of your
good intentions. No, Sir, it is the seamen who want convincing,
for it is they who put no faith in professions so often broken. They
are men of few words and decisive acts, and say that "for their
labour they have a right to pay and food, and will work no longer
than they are paid and fed"--though this may be uncourtly
language, unfit for the ear of high authority. They urge, moreover,
that they have had no pay whatever, whilst their fellow-labourers,
the soldiers, have had two-thirds of their wages; they were starved,
or living on stinking _charqui_, whilst the troops were wholly fed on
beef and mutton; they had no grog, whilst the troops had money
to obtain that favourite beverage, and anything else they desired.
Such, Sir, are the rough grounds on which an English seaman
founds his opinions. He expects an equivalent for the fulfilment
of his contract, which, on his part, is performed with fidelity; but,
if his rights are withheld, he is as boisterous as the element on
which he lives. It is of no use, therefore, to convince me, but
them.

In what communication, Sir, have I insisted on the payment of
200,000 dollars. I sent you an account of money due, but told you
in my letter that it was the mutinous seamen who demanded the
disbursements, and that I was doing all in my power, though
without effect, to restrain their violence and allay their fears. You
tell me in your letter that it was impossible to pay the clamorous
crews. How, then, is it _that they are now paid out of the very money