This I found to be the general language of the tories, after I arrived

from England on the American coast. I heard sundry of them relate that

the British generals had engaged them an ample reward for their losses,

disappointments and expenditures, out of the forfeited rebels' estates.

This language early taught me what to do with tories' estates, as far as

my influence can go. For it is really a game of hazard between whig and

tory. The whigs must inevitably have lost all, in consequence of the

abilities of the tories, and their good friends the British; and it is

no more than right the tories should run the same risk, in consequence

of the abilities of the whigs. But of this more will be observed in the

sequel of this narrative.

Some of the last days of November, the prisoners were landed at New

York, and I was admitted to parole with the other officers, viz:

Proctor, Howland and Taylor. The privates were put into filthy churches

in New York, with the distressed prisoners that were taken at Fort

Washington; and the second night, sergeant Roger Moore, who was bold and

enterprising, found means to make his escape with every of the remaining

prisoners that were taken with me, except three, who were soon after

exchanged. So that out of thirty-one prisoners, who went with me, the

round exhibited in these sheets, two only died with the enemy, and three

only were exchanged; one of whom died after he came within our lines;

all the rest, at different times, made their escape from the enemy.

I now found myself on parole, and restricted to the limits of the

city of New York, where I soon projected means to live in some measure

agreeably to my rank, though I was destitute of cash. My constitution

was almost worn out by such a long and barbarous captivity. The enemy

gave out that I was crazy, and wholly unmanned, but my vitals held

sound, nor was I delirious any more than I had been from youth up; but

my extreme circumstances, at certain times, rendered it politic to act

in some measure the madman; and in consequence of a regular diet and

exercise, my blood recruited, and my nerves in a great measure recovered

their former tone, strength and usefulness, in the course of six months.

I next invite the reader to a retrospective sight and consideration of

the doleful scene of inhumanity, exercised by general Sir William Howe,

and the army under his command, towards the prisoners taken on Long

Island, on the 27th day of Aug. 1776; sundry of whom were, in an inhuman

and barbarous manner, murdered after they had surrendered their arms;

particularly a general Odel, or Woodhull, of the militia; who was hacked

to pieces with cutlasses, when alive, by the light horsemen, and a

captain Fellows, of the continental army, who was thrust through with a

bayonet, of which wound he died instantly. Sundry others were hanged up

by the neck till they were dead; five on the limb of a white oak tree,

and without any reason assigned, except that they were fighting in

defence of the only blessing worth preserving. And indeed those who had

the misfortune to fall into their hands at Fort Washington, in the month

of November following, met with but very little better usage, except

that they were reserved from immediate death to famish and die with

hunger; in fine the word rebel, applied to any vanquished persons,

without regard to rank, who were in the continental service, on the 27th

of August aforesaid, was thought, by the enemy, sufficient to sanctify

whatever cruelties they were pleased to inflict, death itself not

excepted; but to pass over particulars which would swell my narrative

far beyond my design.

The private soldiers, who were brought to New-York, were crowded into

churches, and environed with slavish Hessian guards, a people of a

strange language, who were sent to America for no other design but

cruelty and desolation; and at others, by merciless Britons whose mode

of communicating ideas being intelligible in this country, served only

to tantalize and insult the helpless and perishing; but above all, the

hellish delight and triumph of the tories over them, as they were dying

by hundreds. This was too much for me to bear as a spectator; for I saw

the tories exulting over the dead bodies of their murdered countrymen.

I have gone into the churches, and seen sundry of the prisoners in the

agonies of death, in consequence of very hunger, and others speechless,

and very near death, biting pieces of chips; others pleading for God's

sake, for something to eat, and at the same time, shivering with the

cold. Hollow groans saluted my ears, and despair seemed to be imprinted

on every of their countenances. The filth in these churches, in

consequence of the fluxes, was almost beyond description. The floors

were covered with excrements. I have carefully sought to direct my steps

so as to avoid' it, but could not. They would beg for God's sake for one

copper, or morsel of bread. I have seen in one of these churches seven

dead, at the same time, lying among the excrements of their bodies.

It was a common practice with the enemy, to convey the dead from these

filthy places, in carts, to be slightly buried, and I have seen whole

gangs of tories making derision, and exulting over the dead, saying,

there goes another load of damned rebels. I have observed the British,

soldiers to be full of their black-guard jokes, and vaunting on those

occasions, but they appeared to me less malignant than tories.

The provision dealt out to the prisoners was by no means sufficient for

the support of life. It was deficient in quantity, and much more so in

quality. The prisoners often presented me with a sample of their bread,

which I certify was damaged to that degree, that it was loathsome and

unfit to be eaten, and I am bold to aver it, as my opinion, that it had

been condemned, and of the very worst sort. I have seen and been fed

upon damaged bread, in the course of my captivity, and observed the

quality of such bread as has been condemned by the enemy, among which

was very little so effectually spoiled as what was dealt out to

these prisoners. Their allowance of meat (as they told me) was quite

trifling, and was of the basest sort. I never saw any of it, but was

informed, that bad as it was, it was swallowed almost as quick as

they got hold of it. I saw some of them sucking bones after they were

speechless; others, who could yet speak, and had the use of their

reason, urged me, in the strongest and most pathetic manner, to use my

interest in their behalf; for you plainly see, said they, that we

are devoted to death and destruction; and after I had examined more

particularly into their truly deplorable condition, and had become more

fully apprized of the essential facts, I was persuaded that it was a

premeditated and systematical plan of the British council, to destroy

the youths of our land, with a view thereby to deter the country, and

make it submit to their despotism; but that I could not do them any

material service, and that, by any public attempt for that purpose,

I might endanger myself by frequenting places the most nauseous and

contagious that could be conceived of. I refrained going into churches,

but frequently conversed with such of the prisoners as were admitted

to come out into the yard, and found that the systematical usage

still continued. The guard would often drive me away with their fixed

bayonets. A Hessian one day followed me five or six rods, but by making

use of my legs, I got rid of the lubber. Some times I could obtain a

little conversation, notwithstanding their severities.

I was in one of the church yards, and it was rumored among those in the

church, and sundry of the prisoners came with their usual complaints

to me, and among the rest a large boned, tall young man, as he told me,

from Pennsylvania, who was reduced to a mere skeleton; he said he was

glad to see me before he died, which he expected to have done last

night, but was a little revived; he furthermore informed me, that he

and his brother had been urged to enlist into the British, but both

had resolved to die first; that his brother had died last night, in

consequence of that resolution, and that he expected shortly to follow

him; but I made the other prisoners stand a little off, and told him

with a low voice to enlist; he then asked, whether it was right in

the sight of God! I assured him that it was, and that duty to himself

obliged him to deceive the British by enlisting and deserting the first

opportunity; upon which he answered with transport that he would enlist.

I charged him not to mention my name as his adviser, lest it should

get air, and I should be closely confined, in consequence of it. The

integrity of the suffering prisoners is hardly credibly. Many hundreds,

I am confident, submitted to death, rather than to enlist in the British

service, which, I am informed, they most generally were pressed to do.

I was astonished at the resolution of the two brothers particularly;

it seems that they could not be stimulated to such exertions of heroism

from ambition, as they were but obscure soldiers; strong indeed must the

internal principle of virtue be, which supported them to brave death,

and one of them went through the operation, as did many hundred others.

I readily grant that instances of public virtue are no excitement to the

sordid and vicious, nor, on the other hand, with all the barbarity of

Britain and Heshland awaken them to a sense of their duty to the public;

but these things will have their proper effect on the generous and

brave. The officers on parole were most of them zealous, if possible, to

afford the miserable soldiery relief, and often consulted with one and

another on the subject, but to no effect, being destitute of the means

of subsistence, which they needed; nor could the officers project any

measure, which they thought would alter their fate, or so much as be a

means, of getting them out of those filthy places to the privilege of

fresh air. Some projected that all the officers should go in procession

to general Howe, and plead the cause of the perishing soldiers; but

this proposal was negatived for the following reasons, viz: because

that general Howe, must needs be well acquainted, and have a thorough

knowledge of the state and condition of the prisoners in every of their

wretched apartments, and that much more particular and exact than any

officer on parole could be supposed to have, as the general had a

return of the circumstances of the prisoners, by his own officers, every

morning, of the number which were alive, as also the number which died

every twenty-four hours; and consequently the bill of mortality, as

collected from the daily returns, lay before him with all the material

situations and circumstances of the prisoners; and provided the officers

should go in procession to general Howe, according to the projection,

it would give him the greatest affront, and that he would either retort

upon them, that it was no part of their parole to instruct him in his

conduct to prisoners; that they were mutining against his authority, and

by affronting him, had forfeited their parole; or that, more probably,

instead of saying one word to them, would order them all into as

wretched confinement as the soldiers whom they sought to relieve; for,

at that time, the British, from the general to the private sentinel,

were in full confidence, nor did they so much as hesitate, but that they

should conquer the country. Thus the consultation of the officers was

confounded and broken to pieces, in consequence of the dread, which at

that time lay on their minds, of offending Gen. Howe; for they conceived

so murderous a tyrant would not be too good to destroy even the

officers, on the least pretence of an affront, as they were equally in

his power with the soldiers; and, as Gen. Howe perfectly understood the

condition of the private soldiers, it was argued that it was exactly

such as he and his council had devised, and as he meant to destroy them

it would be to no purpose for them to try to dissuade him from it, as

they were helpless and liable to the same fate, on giving the least

affront; indeed anxious apprehensions disturbed them in their then

circumstances.

Mean time mortality raged to such an intolerable degree among the

prisoners, that the very school boys in the streets knew the mental

design of it in some measure; at least, they knew that they were starved

to death. Some poor women contributed to their necessity, till their

children were almost starved, and all persons of common understanding

knew that they were devoted to the cruelest and worst of deaths. It was

also proposed by some to make a written representation of the condition

of the soldiery, and the officers to sign it, and that it should be

couched in such terms, as though they were apprehensive that the General

was imposed upon by his officers, in their daily returns to him of the

state and condition of the prisoners; and that therefore the officers,

moved with compassion, were constrained to communicate to him the facts

relative to them, nothing doubting but that they would meet with a

speedy redress; but this proposal was most generally negatived also,

and for much the same reason offered in the other case; for it was

conjectured that Gen. Howe's indignation would be moved against such

officers as should attempt to whip him over his officers' backs; that

he would discern that himself was really struck at, and not the officers

who made the daily returns; and therefore self-preservation deterred the

officers from either petitioning or remonstrating to Gen. Howe, either

verbally or in writing; as also the consideration that no valuable

purpose to the distressed would be obtained.

I made several rough drafts on the subject, one of which I exhibited

to the colonels Magaw, Miles and Atlee, and they said that they would

consider the matter; soon after I called on them, and some of the

gentlemen informed me that they had written to the general on the

subject, and I concluded that the gentleman thought it best that they

should write without me, as there was such spirited aversion subsisting

between the British and me.

In the mean time a colonel Hussecker, of the continental army, as he

then reported, was taken prisoner, and brought to New-York, who gave out

that the country was almost universally submitting to the English king's

authority, and that there would be little or no more opposition to

Great-Britain. This at first gave the officers a little shock, but in a

few days they recovered themselves; for this colonel Hussecker, being a

German, was feasting with general De Heister, his countryman, and from

his conduct they were apprehensive that he was a knave; at least he

was esteemed so by most of the officers; it was nevertheless a day

of trouble. The enemy blasphemed. Our little army was retreating in

New-Jersey, and our young men murdered by hundreds in New-York. The army

of Britain and Heshland prevailed for a little season, as though it was

ordered by Heaven to shew, to the latest posterity, what the British

would have done if they could, and what the general calamity must have

been, in consequence of their conquering the country, and to excite

every honest man to stand forth in the defence of liberty, and to

establish the independency of the United States of America forever.

But this scene of adverse fortune did not discourage a Washington. The

illustrious American hero remained immoveable. In liberty's cause he

took up his sword. This reflection was his support and consolation in

the day of his humiliation, when he retreated before the enemy, through

New-Jersey into Pennsylvania. Their triumph only roused his indignation;

and the important cause of his country, which lay near his heart, moved

him to cross the Delaware again, and take ample satisfaction on his

pursuers. No sooner had he circumvallated his haughty foes, and appeared

in terrible array, but the host of Heshland fell. This taught America

the intrinsic worth of perseverance, and the generous sons of freedom

flew to the standard of their common safeguard and defence; from which

time the arm of American liberty hath prevailed.*

* The American army being greatly reduced by the loss of men

taken prisoners, and by the departure of men whose

inlistments had expired, General Washington was obliged to

retreat towards Philadelphia; General Howe, exulting in his

successes, pursued him, notwithstanding the weather was

severely cold. To add to the disasters of the Americans,

General Lee was surprised and taken prisoner at Baskenridge.

In this gloomy state of affairs, many persons joined the

British cause and took protection. But a small band of

heroes checked the tide of British success. A divisions of

Hessians had advanced to Trenton, where they reposed in

security. General Washington was on the opposite side of the

Delaware, with about three thousand men, many of whom were

without shoes or convenient clothing; and the river was

covered with floating ice. But the general knew the

importance of striking some successful blow, to animate the

expiring hopes of the country; and on the night of December

25th, crossed the river, and fell upon the enemy by

surprise, and took the whole body consisting of about nine

hundred men. A few were killed, among whom was colonel Rahl

the commander.

This surprise and capture of the Hessians enraged the enemy, who were

still vastly more numerous than the continental troops. They therefore

collected, and marched from Princeton, to attack general Washington, who

was then at Trenton, having previously left a detachment from their

main body at Princeton, for the support of that place. This was a

trying time, for our worthy general, though in possession of a late most

astonishing victory, was by no means able to withstand the collective

force of the enemy; but his sagacity soon suggested a stratagem to

effect that which, by force, to him was at that time impracticable. He

therefore amused the enemy with a number of fires, and in the night

made a forced march, undiscovered by them, and next morning fell in

with their rear-guard at Princeton, and killed and took most of them

prisoners. The main body too late perceived their rear was attacked,

hurried back with all speed, but to their mortification, found that they

were out-generalled and baffled by general Washington, who was retired

with his little army towards Morristown, and was out of their power.*

These repeated successes, one on the back of the other, chagrined

the enemy prodigiously, and had an amazing operation in the scale of

American politics, and undoubtedly was one of the corner stones, on

which their fair structure of Independency has been fabricated, for the

country at no one time has ever been so much dispirited, as just before

the morning of this glorious success, which in part dispelled the gloomy

clouds of oppression and slavery, which lay pending over America,

big with the ruin of this and future generations, and enlightened and

spirited her sons to redouble their blows on a merciless, and haughty,

and I may add perfidious enemy.

* On the 2d of January, 1777, Lord Cornwallis appeared near

Trenton, with a strong body of troops. Skirmishing took

place, and impeded the march of the British army, until the

Americans had secured their artillery and baggage; when they

retired to the southward of the creek, and repulsed the

enemy in their attempt to pass the bridge. As General

Washington's force was not sufficient to meet the enemy, and

his situation was critical, he determined, with the advice

of a council of war, to attempt a stratagem. He gave orders

for the troops to light fires in their camp, (which were

intended to deceive the enemy,) and be prepared to march.

Accordingly at twelve o'clock at night the troops left the

ground, and by a circuitous march, eluded the vigilance of

the enemy, and early in the morning appeared at Princeton. A

small action ensued, but the British troops gave way. A

party took refuge in the college, a building with strong

stone walls, but were forced to surrender. The enemy lost in

killed, wounded and prisoners, about five hundred men. The

Americans lost but few men; but among them was a most

valuable officer, general Mercer.

Farthermore, this success had a mighty effect on General Howe and his

council, and roused them to a sense of their own weakness, and convinced

them that they were neither omniscient nor omnipotent. Their obduracy

and death-designing malevolence, in some measure, abated or was

suspended. The prisoners, who were condemned to the most wretched and

crudest of deaths, and who survived to this period, though most of

them died before, were immediately ordered to be sent within Gen.

Washington's lines for an exchange, and, in consequence of it, were

taken out of their filthy and poisonous places of confinement, and sent

from New-York to their friends in haste; several of them fell dead in

the streets of New-York, as they attempted to walk to the vessels in the

harbor, for their intended embarkation. What numbers lived to reach the

lines I cannot ascertain, but, from concurrent representations which I

have since received from numbers of people who lived in and adjacent to

such parts of the country, where they were received from the enemy, I

apprehend that most of them died in consequence of the vile usage of

the enemy. Some who were eye witnesses of that scene of mortality, more

especially in that part which continued after the exchange took place,

are of opinion, that it was partly in consequence of a slow poison; but

this I refer to the doctors that attended them, who are certainly the

best judges.

Upon the best calculation I have been able to make from personal

knowledge, and the many evidences I have collected in support of

the facts, I learn that, of the prisoners taken on Long-Island, Fort

Washington, and some few others, at different times and places, about

two thousand perished with hunger, cold and sickness, occasioned by the

filth of their prisons, at New-York, and a number more on their passage

to the continental lines. Most of the residue, who reached their

friends, having received their death wound, could not be restored by the

assistance of physicians and friends; but like their brother prisoners,

fell a sacrifice to the relentless and scientific barbarity of Britain.

I took as much pains as my circumstances would admit of, to inform

myself not only of matters of fact, but likewise of the very design and

aims of General Howe and his council. The latter of which I predicated

on the former, and submit it to the candid public.

And lastly, the aforesaid success of the American arms had a happy

effect on the continental officers who were on parole at New-York. A

number of us assembled, but not in a public manner, and with full bowls

and glasses, drank Gen. Washington's health, and were not unmindful of

Congress and our worthy friends on the continent, and almost forgot that

we were prisoners.

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