AMERICAN PRISONERS IN ENGLAND
Increase of war prisoners by arrival of Americans in 1812--Mr.
Andrews’ account, published in New York, 1815--Officers on
parole--Others confined on board the Hulks at Plymouth--Daily
duties on board--Removal from Hulks to Dartmoor--Description of
interior--Precautions taken to prevent escape--Mr. Andrews’ account
of the French prisoners--Sufferings increased by intense cold and
snow of the winter of 1814--Stock of rations runs low--Starvation
threatened--Release of French prisoners--Great schemes of wholesale
escape--Conflict with the troops--Bloodthirsty conduct of Captain
Shortland--Troops fire on the prisoners with deplorable
results--The Dartmoor Prison of to-day--Results achieved by
judicious labour--Reclamation of waste lands--Profitable
farming--Good crops raised--Horses and cattle bred.
A very large increase of the number of war prisoners in England was the
result of the war with the United States in 1812. An excellent account
of what befell these American prisoners is preserved in the Memoirs of
Mr. Charles Andrews, published in New York in 1815. Some of his personal
experiences deserve to be quoted _in extenso_.
He says: “I myself happened to be so unfortunate as to be among the
first captives brought into England the 18th of June, 1812. On our first
arrival we were all collected from different ports and confined in
different prisons. Some were sent to Chatham, some to Hamoaze and others
to Portsmouth, where a strict examination took place as to their
nativity and citizenship. After the examination the officers who were
entitled to their parole (such as commanders and first lieutenants of
privateers manning fourteen guns; commanders and first mates of
merchantmen, non-combatants, etc.), received it and were sent to the
little village of Ashburton in Devonshire or Reading in Berkshire; the
former is situated about twenty miles inland from Plymouth and the
principal place of confinement for paroled officers. The town of
Ashburton is pleasantly situated, in a healthy and fertile part of the
country where every article of provision is more easily obtained and at
a much cheaper rate than in many other parts of the kingdom. Here all
the officers on parole had their names registered and particular
personal descriptions taken of them. They were allowed by the British
Government one shilling and sixpence, which equalled thirty-three and a
quarter cents money of the United States, per day each man. With this
small allowance great numbers of paroled officers were compelled
entirely to subsist, for having no other dependence and no friends in
this country, they were obliged to purchase clothing, board and lodging
and all the other necessaries of life, and to make use of every economy
to prevent themselves from suffering, notwithstanding the cheapness of
provisions and the facility of obtaining them. They were permitted
during the day to walk one mile on the turnpike road towards London or
Plymouth and at a certain early hour every evening they had to retire to
their respective lodgings, there to remain till next morning. These were
their general restrictions for all the days in the week except two, on
which every officer must answer at a particular place appointed by their
keepers in the presence of their agent or inspector. In this manner some
numbers of officers were compelled to drag out a tedious existence in a
state of painful solicitude for their country, their homes and families,
during the greater part of the late war.
“But the condition of the officers on parole was favourable indeed when
compared with that of the officers and others not entitled to that
privilege. Every such person taken under the flag of the United States
was sent to some one of the places before mentioned and confined on
board prison ships. The greatest number were sent to the _Hector_ and
_La Brave_, two line battle ships which were unfit for his Majesty’s
service at sea and were now used for the confinement of prisoners of
war. These were placed under the command of a lieutenant.
“The _Hector_ and _La Brave_ lie about two miles from Plymouth, well
moored by chain moorings. Captain Edward Pelew of the Royal Navy, the
agent for prisoners of war, resides at this place. On the reception of
all prisoners into their respective prison ships they were obliged to
undergo a strict examination concerning their birth, place of residence
and age; a complete and minute description of their person in all
respects was taken down in writing. After the examination there was
delivered to each man a very coarse and worthless hammock with a thin
coarse bedsack, with at most not more than three or four pounds of
flocks or chopped rags, one thin coarse and sleazy blanket; this
furniture of the bed-chamber was to last for a year and a half before we
could draw others. After the distribution of the bedding, we were
informed of the rules and restrictions which we must strictly observe.
Every ship has a physician attached to it, who is ever to be on board
and when any prisoner is sick he is to repair immediately to a certain
part of the ship for medical aid; but seldom has he any attention paid
him till the moment of dissolution. The doctors pay but little attention
to the suffering prisoners, although the prisoner is seldom or never
suffered to expire on board; for at the moment that death seems
inevitably approaching, the prisoner is removed to a ship lying near by,
called the hospital ship, where if he happen to survive, he receives
much better treatment and attendance; but when once removed to that ship
he may bid adieu to his fellow prisoners and sublunary things; for not
more than one out of ten ever recovers.
“We were then informed that the Transport Board had most graciously and
humanely, for the health and happiness of the prisoners, imposed on them
the following duties, viz., to keep clean the ship’s decks and hold, to
hoist in water, provisions, coal and every other article expended or
used in the ship; and also to cook their own victuals, which consisted
of the following rations allowed by the English Government,--to each man
one and a half pounds of very poor coarse bread, half a pound of beef
including the bone, a third of an ounce of salt and the same quantity of
barley with one or two turnips per man. These were the rations for five
days in the week; and the other two were fish days, the rations for
which were one pound of salt fish, the same weight of potatoes and the
usual allowance of bread.
“For consolation in our present miserable condition we were informed
that the said honourable board had indulgently permitted the American
prisoners to establish and carry on any branch of manufacture, except
such as knitting woollen fabrics, making straw hats and bonnets, etc.,
or rather, they proscribed every branch of manufacture which they were
capable of pursuing. At this time they could have carried on the making
of straw in plaits for bonnets with very considerable advantage, for
almost every sailor was more or less capable of working at this art and
by directing attention to the business could have earned six or eight
pence per day; but this was not permitted and we considered the
prohibition a contrivance of the agents of the government to induce
prisoners to enter H. M. service.[7]
“During the fall of the year 1812 to the April in 1813, the English had
collected at the following depots the number now mentioned, who were
mostly prisoners delivered up from ships of war and citizens of the
United States detained in them for some time before. At Chatham were
collected about nine hundred; at Portsmouth about one hundred and at
Plymouth about seven hundred. These unfortunate men had often made
application to Mr. Beasley, the agent for American prisoners of war, who
resided in England, but were never able to obtain an answer from him. At
this time great numbers of the oldest prisoners were completely
destitute of clothing.
“On the 2nd April, 1813, the Transport Board, apprehending the escape of
the prisoners, in consequence of their repeated threats to that purpose,
issued an order to Captain Pelew, then agent for prisoners at Plymouth,
to make preparation for removing all the prisoners then confined on
board the _Hector_ prison ship at Plymouth to the depot at Dartmoor in
the county of Devon, situated seventeen miles from Plymouth in the back
country.
“These orders were accordingly made known to the prisoners; and on the
morning of the 3rd April they were ordered on deck with their hammocks,
baggage, etc., in readiness to march to the prison, the very name of
which made the mind of every prisoner ‘shrink back with dread and
startle at the very thought,’ for fame had made them well acquainted
with the horrors of that infamous abode which was by far the most
dreadful prison in all England and in which it was next to impossible
for human beings long to survive.
“Two hundred and fifty dejected and unhappy sufferers, already too
wretched, were called, each of whom received a pair of shoes and his
allowance of bread and salt fish. Orders were then immediately given for
every man to deliver up his bed and hammock and to repair forthwith into
the different launches belonging to the ships of war which were
alongside the ships ready to receive them. The prisoners entered,
surrounded by the guards and seamen belonging to the _Hector_ and _La
Brave_. We were landed at New Passage near Plymouth and were placed
under the guard of a company of soldiers equal in number to the
prisoners. Orders were then given to march at half past ten in the
morning with a positive injunction that no prisoner should step out of
or leave the ranks on pain of instant death. Thus we marched surrounded
by a strong guard, through a heavy rain and over a bad road with only
our usual and scanty allowance of bread and fish. We were allowed to
stop only once during the march of seventeen miles.
“The prison at Dartmoor is situated on the east side of one of the
highest and most barren mountains in England and is surrounded on all
sides, as far as the eye can see, by the gloomy features of a bleak
moor, uncultivated and uninhabited, except by one or two miserable
cottages, just discernible in an eastern view, the tenants of which live
by cutting turf on the moor and selling it at the prison. The place is
deprived of every thing that is pleasant or agreeable, and is productive
of nothing but human woe and misery. Even riches, pleasant friends and
liberty could not make it agreeable. It is situated seventeen miles
distant from Plymouth, fourteen from the town of Moorton and seven from
the little village of Tavastock.
“On entering this depot of ‘living death,’ we first passed through the
gates and found ourselves surrounded by two solid circular walls, the
outer one of which is a mile in circumference and sixteen feet high. The
inner wall is distant from the outer thirty feet, upon which is a chain
of bells suspended by a wire, so that the least touch sets every bell in
motion and alarms the garrison. On the top of the inner wall is placed a
guard at the distance of every twenty feet, which frustrates every
attempt to escape and instantly quells every disorderly motion of the
prisoners. Between the two walls and over the intermediate space are
also stationed guards. The soldiers’ guardhouse, the turnkeys’ office
and many other small buildings are within these two circular walls;
likewise several large commodious dwelling houses which are occupied by
the captain of the prison, doctor, clerks, turnkeys, etc., etc. Inside
the walls are erected large barracks, capacious enough to contain a
thousand soldiers and also a hospital for the reception of the sick. No
pains have been spared to render the hospital convenient and comfortable
for the sick prisoners. And certainly much credit is due to the director
of this humane institution, whoever he may have been, for the attention
paid to this most important appendage to an extensive prison. These last
mentioned buildings and several cell store-houses are enclosed by a
third wall. These three ranks of walls form in this direction a barrier
which is insurmountable.
“At a time when the prisoners had despaired of any relief and began to
reconcile themselves to their hard fate, they were very agreeably
surprised to hear that Mr. Reuben G. Beasley had condescended to visit
them and then waited at the gate for admittance. The idea that their
deliverer had come diffused a general joy through the whole prison and
‘lighted up a smile in the aspect of woe.’ The soldiers and guards were
ordered into the prison and turned out every man, both sick and well;
overhauled the hammocks, swept the prison and opened the
window-shutters; all filth was removed and everything made clean for the
first time since our arrival. The guards were then stationed at the
door, to prevent any prisoner from going in to have any communication
with the Agent; we were told that no man could speak to him or have any
communication with him whatever. At three o’clock the entrance of Mr.
Beasley was announced by the turnkeys. We arranged ourselves in the yard
in anxious expectation of the glad tidings he might bring. He appeared
attended with his clerks, the clerks of the prison and a very numerous
train of soldiers. As he entered the yard of the prison, we presented a
frightful appearance, in our yellow uniforms, wooden shoes, and meagre
lantern-jaws. He viewed the sight and seemed much surprised at the
group. We stood in silent expectation; he moved along to the prison, but
how were our feelings damped; at this moment! when we expected from him
the language of consolation and relief, he only uttered in a careless
tone to his clerks, that ‘he did not think that the number had been so
great.’”
In December the cold increased, and the prisoners suffered acutely.
Captain Cotgrave, the governor and superintendent, ordered the prisoners
to turn out every morning at the hour of nine and stand in the yard till
the guards counted them. This generally took more than an hour. Many
prisoners were without stockings and some without shoes and many without
jackets. They cut up their blankets to wrap up their feet and legs that
they might be able to endure the cold snow while they were attending
this ceremony. Complaints were numerous and this practice was denounced
as much too severe for the prisoners but the superintendent pleaded his
orders which as agent he was bound to obey. Yet there were painful
incidents which should have touched the heart of any feeling man who saw
them. Several of these naked men, chilled and benumbed with cold, and
generally half-starved, fell down lifeless before him and in the
presence of the guards and turnkeys. It was a cruelty exceeding murder
to expose naked helpless creatures to perish in the pitiless blast of
this bleak mountain side. “We remonstrated,” continues Andrews, “with
the infamous author but all our applications and remonstrances were in
vain; the wretch was inexorable; his feelings had become callous by
continuing so long among the sufferings of the French prisoners. After
these men had fallen down in the yard they were taken up and carried to
the hospital and with some difficulty restored to life again; they were
then immediately sent back to prison, there to lie on the stone floor
without bed or covering.
“The name of Isaac Cotgrave, agent at Dartmoor, of cruel memory, will
ever be engraven in odious characters on the minds of every American who
witnessed his unparalleled cruelty.”
Presently the iron sceptre was wrested from his hand and placed beyond
his reach. The new agent, Captain Thomas G. Shortland, at this time,
December, 1812, superseded Cotgrave. Shortland was a man whose feelings
had not yet grown callous, and at his first arrival he was shocked at
the scenes of misery which presented themselves in every shape. Touched
with compassion he could not continue the cruel practice of counting
over the prisoners every morning in the yard. He countermanded the order
which his predecessor pretended he was obliged to enforce, and he
declared to the prisoners that he would do all in his power to procure
them better treatment from his government.
The year 1814 began with as cold weather as was ever experienced in the
city of New York. The buckets in the prison containing ten or twelve
quarts froze in the short space of four hours to a solid mass, and the
prisoners must have inevitably frozen were not the hammocks placed so
near together as to communicate the animal heat from one man to another.
The running stream that supplied the prison was set hard and the weather
was said to be colder than it had been for fifty years before. The water
was all frozen and the prisoners obliged to eat snow for drink. The
guards were driven to abandon their posts on the walls and retire to the
guard house; not one sentry was on duty except inside the barracks. At
midnight eight prisoners, thinking to take advantage of the night to
make their escape as no sentries were in sight, formed a ladder and with
it ascended and descended the first wall directly against the guard
house; in ascending the second the soldiers in the guard house
discovered them and prevented seven; the eighth got over the wall and
got away. Those recaptured were at once carried to the black-hole, the
first destination of all who tried and failed to escape. The weather
was bitterly cold; still despite their sufferings they were passed on to
the inner dungeon and lay there for ten days and nights on the straw;
worse threatened, and for the whole of the inhabitants of Dartmoor
communication with Plymouth was interrupted and supplies promised to run
short. Everyone was put on half or two-thirds allowance. Salt rations, a
reserve of which was always kept in stock, were issued to garrison and
prisoners alike and the total, it was estimated, would not last for more
than ten days for the large population shut in, amounting to nine
thousand French and American prison troops, and numbering fifteen
hundred with officers, doctors and turnkeys besides.
The situation mended when the labours of many hands with spades and
snowplough broke through the deep snowdrifts, and sledges with
provisions arrived. The Americans were also gladdened by the receipt of
a letter from their agent announcing an increase of their money
allowance, intended to pay for coffee and sugar as rations on the salt
fish days. This was to have been distributed in kind but it was thought
the cash,--three and a half pence per head, would be preferred, and the
money was therefore sent, sevenpence per man per week, and was very
heartily appreciated; and the total allowance was increased to six and
eightpence on the understanding that this was to continue being paid
monthly.
“As it was natural to expect,” continues Andrews, “this payment produced
great spirits and animation among the prisoners and was as welcome as a
thousand pounds when we were free and had plenty.” With this money the
prisoners purchased many necessary little articles of clothing such as
shirts, shoes, trousers, etc., which could be bought very cheap of the
French who always kept a store of second-hand clothing which was
supplied by the officers.
The weather then became fine--for the place--and the prisoners’ health
began to improve. They were quite comfortable when their condition was
compared to the distress of the cold winter they had just passed
through. Their little salary seemed to command some respect from the
turnkeys, soldiers, officers and subalterns who were themselves as poor
and meagre as Hamlet’s apothecary. It brought them many indulgences,
such as full liberty of the markets, which had before been proscribed,
when they had been compelled to purchase of the French at the gratings.
This was a great benefit to them, for they could trade with the country
people much cheaper. To regulate the rations they were also allowed to
appoint a committee of two to attend at the store house to see that the
director gave good weight in those articles allowed by the Board.
This year of 1814 saw the end of the French war and the release of the
French prisoners from Dartmoor. “The Americans still detained,” says
another authority, “were dispersed through the prisons, thus obtaining
more space and liberty. They immediately set to work upon a plan for
their escape which the French had never dreamed of attempting.[8] It was
found that a passage two hundred and fifty feet long would carry them
from three of the prisons to the road beyond the wall. Upon this they
set to work in each building, digging by night in alternate parties, and
carrying the earth from the passages into the stream that ran through
their yard. About sixty feet of ground had been got through in this
manner, when the proceedings in one of the prisons were discovered and
stopped. After some delay the work was continued in the others until the
passages were within forty feet of the road without the wall. Every man
was then provided with a dagger, made by the prisoners who worked as
blacksmiths; and they proposed on escaping to make at once for Torbay.
But at this point, one of the prisoners, who perhaps had some discreet
doubt as to the result of the enterprise, walked out in open day before
all then in the yard--went up to the turnkeys, and marching off with
them to the keeper’s house, gave him information of all the operation
and designs--and we never saw him after. Quite as well, perhaps, for the
informer.”
The confirmation of the treaty of Ghent was confidently expected to set
free the Americans. There was still, however, much delay in the
arrangements for the final release; and considerable excitement was the
result. They hung Beasley, the American agent, in effigy; and a few days
later a very serious disturbance took place at the prisons, owing to
some mismanagement in distributing the bread allowances. They broke open
the first three gates, drove the sentries to the guard-house, and were
only checked by the soldiers of the garrison, who advanced upon them
with fixed bayonets. Not a blow, however, was struck; but the alarm was
great and the governor brought additional strength from the troops at
Plymouth. On the evening of that day it was found that an attempt had
been made to pierce the wall between the prisoners’ yards and an
adjoining court, in which were kept the arms of the guard who were off
duty. As soon as this discovery was made, it was thought proper to place
an additional force on the wall commanding the courts, and to ring the
alarm bell, as a signal of disturbance. Unfortunately the prisoners, who
seemed to have had no intention of creating a disturbance, crowded to
the first gate; the iron chain by which it was fastened was broken, and
as many as were able pressed into the market square. It was naturally
inferred that they were on the point of a desperate attempt at escape;
and the governor, after some time vainly endeavouring to induce the
prisoners to return to their yards, at last ordered the guard to charge
them back. This they did; but the Americans still refused to enter
their prisons, insulting the soldiers, daring them to fire, and at last
pelting them with large stones. Whether any command to fire was given is
uncertain; but it then commenced, and was without doubt continued and
renewed without orders, in spite of the governor’s attempts to stop it.
At first, the muskets were fired over the heads of the prisoners, who
raised a cry of “blank cartridges” and continued their attack on the
guard. It is not to be wondered at that the soldiers lost their temper.
Seven of the prisoners were killed, and sixty more or less dangerously
wounded.
The jury who attended the inquest returned a verdict of justifiable
homicide; and both the American and English commissioners who conducted
the subsequent inquiry found it impossible to do more than express their
sorrow at the whole affair.
All of the prisoners, about five thousand, were almost at once released.
This same story is told more at length by Andrews. “On the 22d June,
1814,” he says, “Captain Shortland gave us information that all American
prisoners in England were to be collected at Stapleton (Bristol) as the
Transport Board had selected that place for a general depot. There were
now in England thirty-five hundred unparoled prisoners. The same
information was given at Chatham and Plymouth. On the evening of the 3rd
July an event happened at Dartmoor which ended in a very serious
manner. A dispute arose between two of the prisoners, belonging to the
United States’ brig _Argus_, by the names of Thomas Hill and James
Henry. The quarrel growing quite warm and not being ended with night,
they agreed to fight next morning. Accordingly the following morning
about nine o’clock they commenced the battle in prison No. 4, and by an
unfortunate blow from Hill, Henry was killed on the spot. A jury of
inquest was held over the body of the deceased, and after hearing the
evidence the jury brought in a verdict of ‘manslaughter’ or ‘a killing
not wholly without fault but without malice.’ Thomas Hill was removed
and confined in the county prison at Exeter to await his trial at the
August Assizes, then next ensuing.
“On the 29th December we were most agreeably surprised with the joyful
tidings of peace--the preliminaries were announced in the London paper
which we received this day, and the news was confirmed by a letter from
Mr. Beasley received the same day, stating that the treaty had been
signed by the commissioners at Ghent on the 24th, and that the sloop of
war _Favourite_ would sail with the treaty on the 2nd of January, 1815,
with all possible speed for the United States, and that three months
would release every man from confinement.
“Language is too feeble to describe the transports of joy that so
suddenly and unexpectedly filled every heart. Every man forgot the many
tedious days and nights he had so often numbered over within these
prison walls. On the 13th of February one of four prisoners who had been
sentenced the previous August to remain in his cell during the rest of
the war, watched an opportunity to get among the other prisoners in the
yard, and being led into the yard of that building for the benefit of
the fresh air and seeing the attention of the turnkeys and soldiers
occupied by some other object at this time, jumped over the iron railing
that separated this building from the yards Nos. 1, 2, and 3 and
concealed himself in the midst of the other prisoners. Next morning he
was missed by the keepers and information given to Captain Shortland,
who demanded that the man should be immediately surrendered to be again
returned to his cell. The prisoners positively refused to give the man
up and declared that no force of arms should wrest him from their
protection. Whereupon Captain Shortland closed the market and forbade
any communication with it, restricting the prisoners to their allowance
and denying them every privilege.”
On the 14th February he entered the yard at the head of two hundred
soldiers with fixed bayonets, and every prisoner was ordered to withdraw
into the prison so that search might be made for the missing man. The
whole having agreed to stand by each other and resist any violence, at a
signal given they surrounded the troops and gave notice of their
intention. But the officers interposed, anxious to avoid bloodshed. The
soldiers were ordered to retire and make no further attempt at arrest.
Peace was accordingly maintained until the 6th of April. “But on that
day,” says Andrews, “about six o’clock in the evening Captain Shortland
discovered a hole in the inner wall that separates the barrack wall from
prisons Nos. 6 and 7; this hole had been made in the afternoon by some
prisoners out of mere play without any design to escape.
“On discovering the hole Captain Shortland seemed instantly to conceive
the murderous design, for without giving the prisoners any notice to
retire, he planted soldiers in proper positions on the top of the wall
where they could best assist in perpetrating his murderous and barbarous
deeds. A few minutes past six while the prisoners were innocently, and
unapprehensive of mischief, walking in the prison yards and particularly
those in Nos. 1, 3 and 4 which were entirely separated from the yard in
which the hole in the wall had been made, the alarm bells rung and the
drums of the garrison in every direction beat to arms. This was about
ten minutes past six. Such a sudden and unexpected alarm excited the
attention of all the prisoners, who out of curiosity made immediately
for the gates of the prison yard to enquire the reason of the alarm.
When so many persons were confined in this depot, it is reasonable to
suppose that some mischievous persons were included in the number, and,
as a fact, among those collected at the gate were some who forced the
gates open, whether by accident or design I will not attempt to say, but
without any intention of making an escape, a project totally unknown to
the few who stood in front of the gates. Those at the back naturally
crowded forward to see what was going on at the gates; this pressed and
forced a number through the gates quite inadvertently and without
design. At this juncture Captain Shortland arrived in the inner square
at the head of the whole body of soldiers in the garrison. He took sole
command of the whole and immediately drew up the soldiers in a position
to charge. The English officers, however, penetrating the horrid and
murderous intention of their superior, resigned their authority over the
soldiers and refused to take any part or give any orders for the troops
to fire. They could see by this time that the overawed prisoners were
already retiring as fast as so great a crowd would permit and hurrying
in headlong flight in every direction towards their respective prisons.
“The troops had advanced within three yards of the prisoners when
Captain Shortland gave the order to charge. There was a terrible jam at
the gates and it was quite impossible for so great a crowd to pass
quickly through. Every one was mad to escape from the points of the
bayonets and a dreadful panic prevailed. At that moment, although
completely master of the situation and no other violence or resistance
was being offered or threatened, Captain Shortland was distinctly heard
to give orders to the troops to open fire. It was immediately obeyed by
the troops and a full volley of musketry was poured into the main body
of the prisoners on the other side of iron railings which separated the
prisoners from the soldiers. These volleys were repeated for several
rounds, the prisoners falling either dead or wounded in all directions,
while it was still impossible for them to enter the prison on account of
the numbers that flew there for refuge from the rage of the bloodthirsty
murderers. The troops seemed now resolved to make a wholesale massacre
of all whom accident or impossibility had left outside the prison, and
approaching the crowded doors instantly discharged another volley of
musketry on the backs of those endeavouring to force their way in. The
dead and the wounded lay scattered about the yard. Seven were killed on
the spot and six suffered the loss of leg or arm; thirty-eight were
dangerously wounded, several were pronounced mortally wounded, twelve
slightly, the total number of killed and wounded being sixty-three.”
A despatch was immediately sent to Plymouth to inform the admiral and
general commanding the station. Next morning, the 7th April, 1815, a
colonel with a reinforcement of troops arrived and assumed command at
Dartmoor. He very patiently listened to the accounts of both parties and
an inquest was forthwith assembled, composed of residents in the
neighbourhood, mostly farmers and salesmen. On the evening of the 9th
the jury pronounced a verdict of “justifiable homicide,” which was
indignantly denounced by the American opinion as contrary to the facts
and the result of prejudice and unfair pressure.
Another version of this very regrettable occurrence is given by the
commissioners for Dartmoor under date of 25th April, 1815, who made a
special inquiry. Their report takes a more moderate view than Andrews
and may be considered a plausible attempt by the superior officials to
palliate the circumstances. The commissioners say:--
“During the period which has elapsed since the arrival in this country
of the account of the ratification of the treaty of Ghent, an increased
degree of restlessness and impatience of confinement appears to have
prevailed amongst the American prisoners at Dartmoor which, though not
exhibited in the shape of any violent excess, has been principally
indicated by threats of breaking out if not soon released. On the 4th of
April in particular, only two days previous to the events, the subject
of this enquiry, a large body of prisoners rushed into the market square
from whence by the regulations of the prison they are excluded,
demanding bread instead of biscuits which had on that day been issued by
the officers of the depot. Their demands, however, having been then
almost immediately complied with, they returned to their own yards and
the employment of force on that occasion became unnecessary.
“On the evening of the 6th, about six o’clock, it was clearly proved to
us:--
“That a breach had been made in one of the prison walls sufficient for a
full sized man to pass and that others had been commenced in the course
of the day near the same spot though never completed;
“That a number of prisoners were near the railing erected to prevent
them from communicating with the sentinels on the walls, which was of
course forbidden by the regulations of the prison, and that in the space
between the railing and these walls they were tearing up pieces of turf
and wantonly pelting each other in a noisy, disorderly fashion;
“That a much more considerable number of the prisoners were collected
together at that time in one of their yards, near the place where the
breach was effected, and although such collection of prisoners was not
unusual at other times (the gambling tables being commonly kept in that
part of the yard) yet when connected with the circumstances of the
breach and the time of the day, being after the signal for the prisoners
to go to their respective prisons had ceased to sound, it became a right
and just ground of alarm to those who had charge of the depot. Upon
these grounds Captain Shortland appears to us to have been justified in
giving the order, which about six o’clock he seems to have issued, to
sound the alarm bell, the usual warning for collecting the officers of
the depot and putting the military on the alert. However reasonable and
justifiable this was as a measure of protection, the effects produced
thereby in the prisons, but which could not have been intended, were
most unfortunate, and deeply to be regretted. A considerable number of
the prisoners in the yards where no disturbance existed before, and who
were either already within their respective prisons or quietly retiring
as usual towards them, immediately upon the sound of the bell, rushed
back from curiosity--as it appears--towards the gates where by that time
a crowd had assembled.
“Captain Shortland, in the first instance, proceeded out of the square
towards the prisoners, having ordered a part of the different guards to
the number of about fifty only, though they were increased afterwards,
to follow him. For some time both he and Dr. Magrath (the chief medical
officer) endeavoured by quiet means and persuasion to induce the
prisoners to retire to their own yards, explaining to them the fatal
consequences which must ensue if they refused, as the military would in
that case be necessarily compelled to employ force. Captain Shortland
finding persuasion was in vain, at last ordered about fifteen file of
the guards to charge the prisoners back to their yards. With regard to
any order having been given to fire the evidence is very contradictory.
Several of the Americans swear positively that Captain Shortland gave
that order, but the manner in which from the confusion of the moment
they describe this part of the transaction is so different in its
details that it is very difficult to reconcile their testimony. Moreover
Captain Shortland denies the fact.
“The firing in the square having continued for some time, by which
several of the prisoners sustained injuries, the greater part of them
appear to have been running back with the utmost precipitation and
confusion to their respective prisons and the cause for further firing
seems at this period to have ceased. The subsequent firing appears to
have arisen from the state of irritation and exasperation on the part of
the soldiers who followed the prisoners into their yards and from the
absence of nearly all of the officers who might have restrained it.
Captain Shortland was from this time busily occupied with the turnkeys
in the square receiving and taking care of the wounded.”
Great efforts were afterwards made to bring home the responsibility for
the deaths or wounds inflicted, and to identify the soldiers who had
opened fire, but with no satisfactory result. The men to blame could not
be discovered, and indeed they must have been sheltered under the orders
that must almost certainly have been received. The commissioners in the
end came to a rather lame and impotent conclusion, and wound up their
report with the words: “Whilst we lament most deeply the unfortunate
transaction which has been made the subject of this inquiry, we find
ourselves totally unable to suggest any steps to be taken as to those
parts of it which seem to call for any redress or punishment.” This
“horrid massacre,” as it was freely styled at the time, was subsequently
submitted to a joint commission of English and Americans who awarded no
special blame, but were unanimous in deploring the costly mistake made
by too easily excited prisoners on the one side, and authorities too
hasty in availing themselves of savage and ferocious means of
repression.
It was not the only outbreak of dangerous dimensions at Dartmoor, but
that of 1812 was happily quelched without bloodshed. The mutineers were
Frenchmen and, according to a contemporary account, the prisoners rose
in protest against the issue of biscuit as a ration in lieu of bread.
The bake house had been recently destroyed by fire, and it was necessary
to give biscuit; at first an increased allowance of one and a half
pounds, but reduced presently to one pound. Any interference with the
dietaries is a dangerous proceeding with prisoners and generally
resented. On this occasion some seventy-five hundred of them broke out
in open insurrection. They attacked and broke the ponderous bars of the
principal gate, but could do no more mischief, and as a last resource
sought to set fire to the prison and escape _en masse_. The troops
saved the situation, assisted by three pieces of artillery brought to
bear upon the mutineers, which overawed them without opening fire.
Dartmoor was vacated on the advent of peace and remained empty for many
years. It was maintained in a habitable condition, however, and another
use was found for it as time passed, somewhat on the old lines, still as
a prison, but for criminal offenders. When the cessation of
transportation beyond the seas brought about a complete change in the
British methods of secondary punishment, and it was essential to provide
penal establishments at home, Dartmoor was converted into a convict
prison appropriated at first to invalids, but eventually to the able
bodied; and felon labour was applied in large quantities to the
reclamation of the barren moorland and its conversion into productive
farms. It was an ideal penal settlement; at first a wild, barbarous
place remote from the busy haunts of men, yet not too far for effective
control and supervision. When here, stern salutary discipline could be
enforced for the correction of wrong-doers and their removal, although
falling far short of the old penal exile with its many evils and
drawbacks, would act as a deterrent from the commission of crime.
The Dartmoor of to-day is an object lesson to prison administrators. It
is a striking proof of what patience and the judicious application of a
well conceived, admirably well worked out system can accomplish. It has
had a double aim; the useful and remunerative employment of depredators
making restitution, and the endowment of the country by bringing wide
areas of waste land into cultivation. In the earlier stages of its
renewed life, incessant labour was bestowed upon the improvement and
adaptation of ancient buildings to modern requirements, to fencing,
draining, road-making and then the regeneration of the soil to
agricultural pursuits. The prison farm, now of more than two thousand
acres, has been created by convicts in upwards of forty years. The whole
of this acreage, once a mere common and unenclosed waste, is now
transformed into productive fields worked with a proper scientific
rotation of crops. “Ground that was once mostly rushes is now able to
carry a bullock per acre through the summer. No purer or cleaner
pastures are to be found anywhere.... Sixty-seven acres of meadow land
have been laid out for irrigation and utilisation of the sewage from the
prison establishment, which at times numbers upwards of one thousand
persons. A dairy herd of forty-five cows is kept and all the cows are
reared ... a flock of four hundred sheep, ‘Improved Dartmoors,’ is kept
and has frequently been successful in the local show yards. The wool,
for so high a district, is remarkably good and of long staple. Pony
mares and their produce are run in the fields. One of the ponies bred on
Dartmoor won first prize at the Royal Show at Plymouth. Thirty acres of
garden are devoted to the growth of garden vegetables of which all kinds
are grown, and much success has been obtained with celery and cucumbers.
The whole of the work is done by convicts, without the aid of horses
except for carting.”
This peaceful and prosperous colony of condemned felons has replaced the
great war prison where as many as ten thousand unhappy victims of their
quarrelsome rulers, but innocent of all crimes, passed years of hopeless
exile, prolonged suffering and irksome confinement. The population
to-day is little more than a tenth of the number originally lodged here.
These inmates, whose liberty and labour have been forfeited by their
misdeeds, are treated with humane severity and subjected to an exact but
well-contrived discipline intended to maintain order and insist upon
unremitting industry. The principle inculcated by the motto over the old
gate, _parcere subjectis_, is still observed so long as the convicts
deserve it. Unquestioning submission to authority is insisted upon.
Without this none of the results achieved as already set forth could
have been even approximately attained. Dartmoor is one of the best
illustrations of the English convict system which was introduced after
the failure of transportation beyond seas. It is a progressive system
far superior and more effective than that “Irish system” so much praised
and, indeed, overrated. The law-breaker when expiating his offence is
put, so to speak, upon a ladder of improvement. He is subjected to
corrective processes, but with his own coöperation, so that his fate is
really in his own hands. He is first chastened, then strengthened. He
begins his penalty in the painful privacy of a separate cell; after six
months of irksome monotonous confinement he is promoted to the healthy
and laborious life in the open air of a “public work,”--Dartmoor,
Portland, Parkhurst or Borstal. The employment is akin to that of the
free workman, embracing many varieties of outdoor labour, digging,
bricklaying, stone dressing, pile-driving, plate-laying and all the
operations of farming and agriculture. Strong objections have been
raised to the so-called “degrading associations,” but the conditions are
identically those of all outdoor labour and the supposed mischief is not
really great. No idle gossip is permitted; talk encourages idleness, and
want of industry means loss of “marks,” or the forfeiture of a part of
that precious boon of remission of time which is the sheet anchor of our
English progressive system. To that system England owes the Portland
Breakwater, the fortifications of the Verne, the extension of the
dockyards of Chatham and Portsmouth with their vast inland lakes or
basin of water, and last but not least the reclamation of Dartmoor bogs
and their conversion into smiling gardens and fertile arable land.
Before leaving Dartmoor, it is right to refer to a graceful act
performed in these latter days by a governor of the modern prison. It
was in effect atonement for previous blameworthy neglect. In the old
days there was much mortality among the war prisoners. The severity of
the climate although greatly exaggerated was responsible for much, and
numbers suffered from their own recklessness in gambling away their
clothing and their constant addiction to drink. Scanty attention was
paid to the graves of those who succumbed at Dartmoor, and we read that
“the burial place of the unfortunate captives has been sadly neglected;
horses and cattle have broken up the soil and left the bones of the dead
to whiten in the sun.” Matters were no doubt made worse by the long
years during which the buildings remained unoccupied. The reproach was
at length removed by Captain Walter Stopford,[9] who, when governor of
the prison in 1865, was at great pains to have the remains collected in
two separate enclosures, and two monuments erected to the memory of the
gallant men, Americans and Frenchmen, deceased in a strange land, the
victims of the sad fortunes of war.