Four of the marines were cut off among the rocks in their retreat, and fell a sacrifice to the fury of the enemy; three more were dangerously wounded; and the lieutenant, who had received a stab between the shoulders with a pahooa, having fortunately reserved his fire, shot the man who had wounded him, just as he was going to repeat his blow.  Our unfortunate commander, the last time he was seen distinctly, was standing at the water’s edge, and calling out to the boats to cease firing, and to pull in.  If it be true, as some of those who were present have imagined, that the marines and boatmen had fired without his orders, and that he was desirous of preventing any further bloodshed, it is not improbable, that his humanity, on this occasion, proved fatal to him:  For it was remarked, that whilst he faced the natives, none of them had offered him any violence, but that having turned about to give his orders to the boats, he was stabbed in the back, and fell with his face into the water.  On seeing him fall, the islanders set up a great shout, and his body was immediately dragged on shore, and surrounded, by the enemy, who, snatching the dagger out of each other’s hands, shewed a savage eagerness to have a share in his destruction.

Thus fell our great and excellent commander.  After a life of so much distinguished and successful enterprise, his death, as far as regards himself, cannot be reckoned premature, since he lived to finish the great work for which he seems to have been designed, and was rather removed from the enjoyment, than cut off from the acquisition of glory.  How sincerely his loss was felt and lamented by those who had so long found their general security in his skill and conduct, and every consolation, under their hardships, in his tenderness and humanity, it is neither necessary nor possible for me to describe; much less shall I attempt to paint the horror with which we were struck, and the universal dejection and dismay which followed so dreadful and unexpected a calamity.  The reader will not be displeased to turn from so sad a scene, to the contemplation of his character and virtues, whilst I am paying my last tribute to the memory of a dear and honoured friend, in a short history of his life and public services.

Captain James Cook was born near Whitby, in Yorkshire, on the 27th of October, 1728; and, at an early age, was put apprentice to a shopkeeper in a neighbouring village.  His natural inclination not having been consulted on this occasion, he soon quitted the counter from disgust, and bound himself, for nine years, to the master of a vessel in the coal trade.  At the breaking out of the war, in 1755, he entered into the king’s service, on board the Eagle, at that time commanded by Captain Hamer, and afterward by Sir Hugh Palliser, who soon discovered his merit, and introduced him on the quarter-deck.