After these poor fellows had received mo_A journal, of a young man of Massachusetts, late a surgeon on board an American privateer, who was captured at sea by the British in May, eighteen hundred and thirteen and was confined first, at Melville Island, Halifax, then at Chatham, in England, and last at Dartmoor prison

government, they became cheerful, clean, and many of them neat, and

were no bad specimens of American soldiery. We are sorry to again

remark, that there was observed something repulsive between the

soldier and the sailor. The soldier thought himself better than the

Jack tar, while the sailor, felt himself, on board ship, a better

fellow than the soldier; one was a fish in the water; the other a

lobster out of the water. The sailors always took the lead, because

they were at home; while the dispirited landsman felt himself a

stranger in an enemy's land, even among his countrymen. It would be

well if all our sea and land commanders would exert themselves to

break down the partition wall that is growing up between our sailors

and soldiers; they should be constantly reminded that they are all

_children_ of _one_ and the _same great family_, whereof the

_President of the United States_ is _Father_; that they have all been

taught to read the same bible, and to obey the same great moral law of

loving one another. I observed, with pain, that nothing vexed a sailor

more, than to be called by a brother tar, a soldier-looking son of a

----. This term of contempt commonly led to blows. This mutual dislike

bred difficulties in the government of ourselves, and sometimes

defeated our best regulations; for it split us into parties; and then

we behaved as bad as our superiors and richer brethren do on shore,

neglecting the general interest to indulge our own private views, and

spirit of revenge. I thought our ship often resembled our republic in

miniature; for human nature is the same always, and only varies its

aspect from situation and circumstances.

It is now the latter end of September; the weather pretty pleasant,

but not equal to our fine Septembers and Octobers in New-England. We

are, every hour, expecting orders to quit this river, to return to our

own dear country.

CHAPTER III.

_October 2d, 1814._--We were now ordered to pick up our duds and get

all ready to embark in certain gun-brigs that had anchored along side

of us; and an hundred of us were soon put on board, and the tide

favouring, we gently drifted down the river Medway. It rained, and not

being permitted to go below, and being thinly clad, we were wet to the

skin. When the rain ceased, our commander went below, and returned, in

a short time, gaily equipped in his full uniform, cockade and dirk.

He mounted the poop, where he strutted about, sometimes viewing

himself, and now and then eyeing us, as if to see if we, too, admired

him. He was about five feet high, with broad shoulders, and portly

belly. We concluded that he would afford us some fun; but we were

mistaken; for, with the body of Dr. Slop, he bore a round, ruddy, open

and smiling countenance, expressive of good nature and urbanity. The

crew said, that although he was no seaman, _he was a man_, and a

better fellow never eat the king's bread; that they were happy under

his command; and the only dread they had was, that he, or they should

be transferred to another ship. Does not this prove that seamen can be

better governed by kindness and good humor than by the boatswain's

cat? We would ask two of our own naval commanders, B. and C. whether

they had not better try the experiment? We should be very sorry if the

infant navy of our young country, should have the character of too

much severity of discipline. To say that it is requisite is a libel on

our national character. Slavish minds alone require the lash.

On board this brig were two London mechanics, recently pressed in the

streets of the capital of the English nation--a nation that has long

boasted of its liberty and humanity. These cocknies wore long coats,

drab-coloured velvet breeches, and grey stockings. They were

constantly followed by the boatswain's mate; who often impressed his

lessons, and excited their activity with a rope's end which he carried

in his hat. The poor fellows were extremely anxious to avoid such

repeated hard arguments; and they kept at as great a distance from

their tyrant as possible, who seemed to delight in beating them. It

appeared to me to be far out-doing in cruelty, the Algerines. They

looked melancholy, and at times, very sad. May America never become

the greatest of naval powers, if to attain it, she must allow a brutal

sailor to treat a citizen, _kidnapped_ from his family in the streets

of our cities, worse than we use a dog. I again repeat it, for the

thousandth time, the English are a hard hearted, cruel and barbarous

race; and, on this account alone, I have often been ashamed, that we,

Americans, descended mostly from them. When a man is ill used, it

invites others to insult him. One of our prisoners, who had been

treated with a drink of grog, took out his knife, and, as the

cockney's face was turned the other way, cut off one skirt of his long

coat. This excited peals of laughter. When the poor Londoner saw that

this was done by a roguish American, at the instigation of his own

countrymen, the tear stood in his eye. Even our jolly, big bellied

captain, enjoyed the joke, and ordered the boatswain's mate to cut off

the other skirt, who, after viewing him amidst shouts of laughter,

damned him for a land lubber, and said, now he had lost his ring-tail,

he looked like a gentleman sailor.

Although our good natured captain laughed at this joke, I confess I

could not; all the horrors of impressment rushed on my mind. This

mechanic may have left a wife and children, suffering and starving,

from having her husband and their father kidnapped, like a negro on

the coast of Guinea, and held in worse than negro slavery. But this is

_Old England_, the residence of liberty and equal laws; and the

_bulwark of our holy religion_! The crimes of nations are punished in

this world; and we may venture to predict, that _the impressment of

seamen_, and _cruel military punishments_, will operate the downfal of

this splendid imposter, whose proper emblem is a bloated figure,

seated on a throne, made of dead mens' bones, with a crown on its

head, a sword in one hand, and a cup filled with the tears of widows

and orphans in the other.

Mr. Peel, a member of the British parliament, delivered an unfeeling

speech relative to Ireland, in which he speaks of their _untameable

ferocity_, and _systematic guilt_, supported by perjury, related this

most affecting anecdote, which was to shew the feeling of abhorrence

entertained against those who gave evidence against those who were

tried for resisting a government they detested.--A man who was

condemned to death was offered a pardon, on the condition that he

would _give evidence_, which they knew he could give, after having

actually given a part of his testimony, retracted it in open court;

_his wife, who was strongly attached to her husband, having prayed him

on her knees, with tears, that he would be hanged rather than give

evidence_. The house burst out into a loud and general LAUGH!!!

Here was an heroic woman who leaves the wife of Brutus and of Poelus

far behind her. If this extraordinary and shockingly affecting scene

had taken place in the Congress of the United States of America, would

it have excited LAUGHTER, or deep commisseration? Greater men than

members of parliament, can _laugh_ at misery. See what Junius says of

king George the 3d and Chancellor York.

There is another Irish anecdote worth relating.--During the troubles

in Ireland a Boy 16 years old was seized by the military, who demanded

of him to whom he belonged. He refused to tell. They tied him up to

the halberts, and he endured a severe whipping without confessing whom

he served. At length his sister, who was about 18, unable to endure

the sight of his torture any longer, run to the officer and told him

that he was in the service of Mr. ---- a suspected man. The brave boy

damned his sister for a blabbing b-- _for now said he the cause of

Ireland is betrayed and ruined_. Here are traits of Spartan virtues,

that a modern British house of commons are past comprehending. A

stronger proof of debasement cannot well be imagined in the Senate of

England.

We passed by Sheerness, and, in our passage to the Nore, came near

several hulks filled with convicts. We soon came along side the

Leyden, an old Dutch 64, fitted up with births, eight feet by six, so

as to contain six persons; but they were nearly all filled by

prisoners who came before us, so that we were obliged to shirk

wherever we could.

We found the captain of the Leyden very much such a man as the

commander of the Malabar. Our allowance of food was as short as he

could make it, and our liquor ungenerous. He said we were a damn set

of rebel yankees that lived too well, which made us saucy. The first

lieutenant was a kind and humane gentleman, but his captain was the

reverse. He would hear no complaints, and threatened to put the bearer

of them in irons.

The countenance, and whole form of this man was indicative of malice;

his very step was that of an abrupt and angry tyrant. His gloomy

visage was that of an hardened jailor; and he bore towards us the same

sort of affection which we experienced from the refugees in Nova

Scotia.--He caused a marine to be most severely flogged for selling

one of the prisoners a little tobacco, which he saved out of his own

allowance. The crew were forbidden to speak with any of us; but, when

they could with safety, they described him to be the most odious of

tyrants, and the most malicious of men. They said he never appeared

pleased only when his men were suffering the agonies of the

boatswain's lashes. In this he resembled the demons among the damned.

Upon calling over our names, and parading ourselves before captain

Davie, we could discover, in a second, the harsh temper of the man. We

at length weighed anchor, passed a fleet of men of war, and in a few

days arrived in Plymouth harbor. The captain went immediately on shore

and left the command to his worthy and humane lieutenant. The next day

a great many boats came off to us filled with Cyprian dames. They

were, generally, healthy, rosy looking lasses. Their number increased

every hour, until there were as many on board of us as there were men.

In short, every man who paid the waterman half a crown had a wife; so

that the ship, belonging to the bulwark of our religion, exhibited

such a scene as is described by the navigators, who have visited the

South-Sea Islands. We read, with surprise and pity, the conduct of the

female sex, when European ships visit the islands in the Pacific

ocean;[O] and we are unwilling to give credit to all we read, because

we, Americans, never fail to annex the idea of modesty to that of a

woman; for female licentiousness is very rarely witnessed in the new

world. This has rendered the accounts of navigators, in a degree,

incredible; but we see the same thing in the ports of England--a land

of Christians--renowned for its bishops and their church, and for

moral writings and sermons, and for their bible societies, and

religious institutions, and for their numerous moral essays, and

chaste poetical writings. Yes, Christian reader! in this religious

island, whereof George the 3d is king, and Charlotte the queen, the

young females crowd the prison ships, and take for husbands the ragged

American prisoners, provided they can get a few shillings by it! What

are we to think of the state of society in England, when two or three

sisters leave the house of their parents, and pass a week on board of

a newly arrived ship? What can be the sentiments of the daughters?

What the feelings of their mothers, their fathers, and their brothers?

In the South Sea Islands, young females know not what modesty means;

neither that nor chastity is a virtue in those regions.[O] But it is

not quite so in England; there this lewd conduct is a mark of

debasement, depravity and vice. The sea-ports of England, and the

_streets_ of her capital, and, indeed, of all her large cities are

filled with handsome women, who offer themselves as wives to men they

never saw before, for _a few shillings_; and yet this is the country

of which our reverend doctors, from the pulpit, assure us, contains

more religion and morality than any other of the same number of

inhabitants; nay, more, our governor has proclaimed it to the world

over, as being the very "bulwark of the religion we profess." If

cruelty to prisoners, cruelty to their own soldiers, if kidnapping

their mechanics, by press gangs, if shocking barbarity be exercised

towards prisoners, and if open, shameless lewdness, mark and disgrace

their sea-ports, their capital, and all their large cities, are the

modest and correct people, inhabiting the towns and villages of the

United States, to be affronted by being told publicly, that they have

less religion, less morality than the people of England? How long

shall we continue to be abused by folly and presumption? We,

Americans, are yet a modest, clean, and moral people; as much so as

the Swiss in Europe; and we feel ourselves offended, and disgusted

when our blind guides tell us to follow the example of the English in

their manners, and sexual conduct. Could I allow myself to

particularise the conduct of the fair sex, who crowd on board every

recently arrived ship, and who swarm on the shores, my readers would

confess that few scenes of the kind could exceed it. The freedom of

the American press will give to posterity a just picture of British

morals, in the reigns of George the 3d and 4th.

While laying in Plymouth harbor, we received the news of the _capture

of the City of Washington_; and the burning of its public buildings

with the library. The burning of the public buildings and the library

of books at Washington has been execrated by all the civilized world.

The British are famous, or rather infamous for this barbarous mode of

warfare. We find this passage in Captain John Knox's historical

Journal of the Campaigns in North America in 1758--"Brigadier Wolfe

has been also successful at Gaspe, and the N. N. E. parts of this

province, (Nova Scotia) he has burned, among other settlements a most

valuable one called Mount St. Louis: the intendant of the place

offered 150,000 livres to ransom that town and its environs, which

were _nobly_ rejected: all their magazines of corn, dried fish,

barrelled eels, and other provisions which they had for _themselves_,

and other provisions for Quebec market, were all destroyed. Wherever

he went with his troops desolation followed."--And this, reader, was

the _glorious_ General Wolfe, whom his barbarous nation, and our own

fools have extolled to the skies in marble monuments, and his sons.

Cockburn was nothing compared with this _immortal_ plunderer and

burner of villages and destroyer of the provisions laid up for the

men, women and children of the French settlements in Arcadia. General

Wolfe perpetrated this savage deed in the latter end of November,

1758, when the wretched inhabitants had a long and dreary winter

before them. But Wolfe and Ross were punished, by the just avenger.

"Capt. M'Curdie was killed by the falling of a tree on the 30th, and

Lieut. Hazen commands at present, who returned last night from a scout

up this river: he went to St. Ann's and burnt 147 dwelling houses, 2

mass-houses, besides all their barns, stables, out-houses, granaries,

&c. He returned down the river about ---- where he found a house in a

thick forest, with a number of cattle, horses and hogs; these he

destroyed. There was fire in the chimney; the people were gone off

into the woods; he pursued, killed and _scalped_ six men, brought in

four, with two women and three children; he returned to the house, set

it on fire, threw the cattle into the flames, and arrived safe with

his prisoners."--from page 230 of Captain Knox's Historical Journal of

Campaigns in North America from 1756 to 1760. This work in two 4to.

vol. is dedicated by permission to Lieutenant General Sir Jeffrey

Amherst, and printed in London by Dodsley, 1769. It has for its motto

_ne quid falsi, dicere audeat, ne quid veri non audeat_.

Every body around us believed that America was conquered, and the war

over. After we had read the account in the newspaper, the Lieutenant

came down among us, and talked with us on the event; and asked us if

we did not think that America would now submit and make peace on such

terms as Great Britain should propose? We all told him with one voice,

_no! no!_ and that the possession of the whole sea-coast could not

produce that effect. We explained to him the situation of Washington;

and described the half built city; and soon convinced him that the

capture of Washington, was by no means an event of half the importance

of the capture of _Albany_, or _New-York_, or _Baltimore_. We all

agreed that it would make a great sound in England, and throughout

Europe, but that it was, in fact, of little consequence to the UNITED

STATES. Why should a _republican_ weep at the burning of a _palace_?

About a week after we entered Plymouth harbor, two hundred of us were

drafted to be sent to _Dartmoor Prison_, instead of being sent, as we

expected, to America.

We were conveyed in boats, and saw, as we passed, a number of men of

war on the stocks; and, among others, the Lord Vincent, pierced for

120 guns. One of our prisoners told the lieutenant that he was in that

battle with Lord St. Vincent, and of course helped him gain the

victory, and here he was now sailing by a most noble ship, (built in

honour of that famous admiral) on his way to a doleful prison! This

man had been pressed on board a British man of war, and was given up

as such; but instead of being sent home as he ought, he was detained a

prisoner of war, and yet this unfortunate man exposed his life in

fighting for the British off Cape St. Vincents, as much as the noble

Lord himself. Such is the difference of rewards in this chequered

world!

My mind was too much oppressed with the melancholy prospect of

Dartmoor prison, to notice particularly the gallant show of ships; and

the beautiful scenery which the dock and bay of Plymouth afforded.

When we landed a short distance from the dock, we were received by a

file of soldiers, or rather two files, between which we marched on to

prison. This was the first time we touched the soil of England with

our feet, after laying under its shores nearly a year. It excited

singular and pleasant sensations to be once more permitted to walk on

the earth, although surrounded by soldiers and going to prison. The

old women collected about us with their cakes and ale, and as we all

had a little money we soon emptied their jugs and baskets; and their

cheering beverage soon changed our sad countenances; and as we marched

on we cheered each other. Our march drew to the doors and windows the

enchanting sight of fair ladies; compared with our dirty selves, they

looked like angels peeping out of Heaven; and yet they were neither

handsomer, or neater than our sweethearts and sisters in our own dear

country.

After we left the street, we found the road extremely dusty, which

rendered it very unpleasant in walking close to each other. Before we

got half way to the prison, there was a very heavy shower of rain, so

that by the time we arrived there we looked as if we had been

wallowing in the mud. Our unfeeling conductors marched us nine miles

before they allowed us to rest; never once considering how unfit we

were, from our long confinement, for travelling. Where we were allowed

to stop, a butt of beer was placed in a cart for sale. Had British

prisoners been marching through New-England, a butt of beer, or good

cider would have been placed for them free of all expense; but Old

England is not New-England by a great deal, whatever Governor STRONG

may think of his adorable country of kings, bishops and missionary

societies.[P] Here a fresh escort of soldiers relieved those who

brought us from Plymouth. The commanding officer of this detachment

undertook to drive us from the beer-cart before all of us had a taste

of it; he rode in among us, and flourished his sword, with a view to

frighten us; but we refused to stir till we were ready, and some of

our company called him a damned lobster backed ----, for wishing to

drive us away before every one had his drink. The man was perplexed,

and knew not what to do. At last the booby did what he ought to have

done at first--forced the beer-seller to drive off his cart. But it is

the fate of British officers of higher rank than this one, to think

and act at _last_ of that which they ought to have thought, and acted

upon at _first_. They are no match for the yankees, in contrivance, or

in execution. This beer barrel is an epitome of all their conduct in

their war with America. What old woman put the idea into this

officer's head I know not; but it is a fact, as soon as the beer

barrel was driven off, we were all ready to march off too! And few

companies of vagabonds in England ever marched off to prison in better

spirits; we cheered one another, and laughed at our profound leader,

until we came in sight of the black, bleak, and barren moor, without a

solitary bush or blade of grass. Some of our prisoners swore that we

had marched the whole length of England, and got into Scotland. We all

agreed that it was not credible that such a hideous, barren spot could

be any where found in England.

Our old men-of-wars-men suffered the most. Many of these had not set

their feet on the earth for seven years, and they had lost in a

measure, the natural operation of their feet and legs. These naval

veterans loitered behind, attended by a guard. In ascending a hill we

were some distance from the main body, and by turning a corner the

rear was concealed from the van. Two young men took advantage of this,

and jumped over a wall, and lay snug under it; but being observed, the

guard fired, which alarmed those in front, when some soldiers pursued

them, and seeing the impossibility of escaping, the young men jumped

over the wall again, and mixed in with their companions without their

being able to identify their persons. Our driver was extremely

perplexed and alarmed at our daring attempts.

On crawling up the long and ragged hill, we became wearied, and

refused to walk so fast as did the guard. No prudent officer would

have driven men on as we were driven. We should have rested every two

or three miles.--The sun was sinking below the horizon when we gained

the top of the hill which commanded a view of _Dartmoor prison_. We

passed through a small collection of houses called Princetown, where

were two inns. The weather was disagreeable after the shower, and we

saw the dark-hued prisons, whose sombre and doleful aspect chilled our

blood. Yonder, cried one of our companions, is the residence of _four

thousand five hundred_ men, and in a few minutes we shall add to the

number of its wretches. Others said, in that place will be sacrificed

the aspiring feelings of youth, and the anxious expectations of

relatives. There, said I, shall we bury all the designs of early

emulation. I never felt disheartened before. I shed tears when I

thought of home, and of my wretched situation, and I cursed the

barbarity of a people among whom we were driven more like hogs than

fellow men and Christians. I had weathered adverse gales with

fortitude; and never flinched amidst severities. "_A taught

bowstring_," was always my motto; but here I gave way for a moment, to

despair, and wished the string to snap asunder and end my misery; for

I had not even the consolation of a criminal going to execution to

brace up the cord of life and inspire hope beyond the grave. The idea

of lingering out a wretched existence in a doleful prison, dying by

piece-meals, my flesh wasting by hunger, my frame exhausting by

thirst, and my spirits broken down by a tyrant, and by jostling with

misfortunes, I could not avoid. If death, instead of knocking at my

prison door, would enter it at once, I would thank the goal deliverer.

I am now comforted with the conviction, that nothing but an early

religious education could have preserved me at this, and some other

times of my misery, from destroying myself.

We soon arrived at the gates of this very extensive prison, and were

admitted into the first yard, for it had several. We there answered to

the call of our names; and at length passed through the iron gates to

prison No. 7. We requested the turnkey to take in our baggage, as it

contained our bedding; but it was neglected, and rained on during the

night; for on this bleak and drizzly mountain there are not more than

ninety fair days in the year. It took us several days to dry our

_duds_, for they merited not the name of baggage.

The moment we entered the dark prison, we found ourselves jammed in

with a multitude; one calling us to come this way, another that; some

halloing, swearing and cursing, so that I did not know, for a moment,

but what I had died through fatigue and hard usage, and was actually

in the regions of the damned. Oh, what a horrid night I here passed!

The floors of this reproach to Old England were of stone, damp and

mouldy, and smelling like a transport. Here we had to lay down and

sleep after a most weary march of 15 miles. What apology can be made

for not having things prepared for our comfort? Those who have been

enslaved in Algiers found things very different. The food and the

lodging were in every respect superior among the Mahometans, than

among these boasting Christians, and their general treatment

infinitely more humane; some of our companions had been prisoners

among the Barbary powers, and they describe them as vastly more

considerate than the English.

After passing a dreadful night, we next day had opportunity of

examining our prison. It had iron stanchions, like those in stables

for horses, on which hammocks were hung. The windows had iron

gratings, and the bars of the doors seemed calculated to resist the

force of men, and of time. These things had a singular effect on such

of us, as had, from our childhood, associated the idea of _liberty_

with the name of _Old England_; but a man must travel beyond the smoke

of his own chimney to acquire correct ideas of the characters of men,

and of nations.--We however saw the worst of it at first; for every

day our residence appeared less disagreeable.

We arrived here the 11th of October; and our lot was better than that

of thirty of our companions, who came on a little after us from

Plymouth. These 30 men were sent from the West-Indies, and had no

descriptive lists, and it was necessary that these men should be

measured and described as to stature, complexion, &c.--Capt. Shortland

therefore ordered them to be shut up in the prison No. 6. This was a

more cold, dreary and comfortless place than No. 7. Their bed was

nothing but the cold damp stones; and being in total darkness they

dare not walk about. These 30 men had been imprisoned at Barbadoes;

and they had supposed that when they arrived at this famous birth

place of liberty, they should not be excluded from all her blessings.

They had suffered much at Barbadoes, and they expected a different

treatment in England; but alas! Captain Shortland at once dissipated

the illusion and shewed himself what Britons really are. The next

morning they were taken up to Captain Shortland's office to be

described, and marked, and numbered. One of the thirty, an old and

respectable Captain of an American ship, complained of his usage, and

told Shortland that he had been several times a prisoner of war, but

never experienced such barbarous treatment before. The man only

replied that their not having their beds was the fault of the Turnkey;

as if that could ever be admitted as an excuse among military men.

[--> _For a minute description of Dartmoor Prison see the engraving._]

Dartmoor is a dreary spot of itself; it is rendered more so by the

westerly winds blowing from the Atlantic ocean, which have the same

quality and effects as the easterly wind, blowing from the same ocean,

are known to have in New-England. This high land receives the sea mist

and fogs; and they settle on our skins with a deadly dampness. Here

reigns, more than two thirds of the year, "_the Scotch mist_," which

is famous to a proverb. This moor affords nothing for subsistence or

pleasure. Rabbits cannot live on it. Birds fly from it; and it is

inhabited, according to the belief of the most vulgar, by ghosts and

daemons; to which will now doubtless be added, the troubled ghosts of

the murdered American prisoners; and hereafter will be distinctly seen

the tormented spirit of the bloody Capt. Shortland, clanking his

chains, weeping, wailing and gnashing his teeth! It is a fact that the

market people have not sufficient courage to pass this moor in the

night. They are always sure to leave Princetown by day light, not

having the resolution of passing this dreary, barren, and

heaven-abandoned spot in the dark. Before the bloody massacre of our

countrymen, this unhallowed spot was believed, by common superstition,

to belong to the Devil.

Certain it is, that the common people in this neighbourhood were

impressed with the notion that Dartmoor was a place less desirable to

mortals, and more under the influence of evil spirits, than any other

spot in England. I shall only say, that I found it, take it all in

all, a less disagreeable prison than the ships; the life of a prudent,

industrious, well behaved man might here be rendered pretty easy, for

a prison life, as was the case with some of our own countrymen, and

some Frenchmen; but the young, the idle, the giddy, fun making youth

generally reaped such fruit as he sowed. Gambling was the wide inlet

to vice and disorder; and in this Frenchmen took the lead. These men

would play away every thing they possessed beyond the clothes to keep

them decent. They have been known to game away a month's provision;

and when they had lost it, would shirk and steal for a month after for

their subsistence. A man with some money in his pocket might live

pretty well through the day in Dartmoor Prison; there being shops and

stalls where every little article could be obtained; but added to this

we had a good and constant market; and the bread and meat supplied by

government were not bad; and as good I presume as that given to

British prisoners by our own government; had our lodging and

prison-house been equal to our food, I never should have complained.

The establishment was blessed with a good man for a physician, named

M'Grath, an Irishman, a tall, lean gentleman, with one eye, but of a

warm and good heart. We never shall cease to admire his disposition,

nor forget his humanity.

The Frenchmen and our prisoners did not agree very well. They

quarrelled and sometimes fought, and they carried their differences to

that length, that it was deemed proper to erect a wall to separate

them, like so many game cocks, in different yards. When this Depot was

garrisoned by Highlanders, these Scotchmen took part with the

Americans against the French. Here the old presbyterian principle of

affinity operated against the papal man of sin. It cannot be denied

that there is a deep rooted hatred between the Briton and the

Frenchman.

While at Dartmoor Prison, there came certain French officers wearing

the white cockade; their object seemed to be to converse with the

prisoners, and to persuade them to declare for Louis 18th; but they

could not prevail; the Frenchmen shouted _vive l'Empereur!_ Their

attachment to Bonaparte was remarkably strong. He must have been a man

of wonderful powers to attach all ranks so strongly to him. Before the

officers left the place, these Frenchmen hoisted up a little dog with

the white cockade tied under his tail. Soon after this the French

officers, who appeared to be men of some consideration, left the

prison.

I have myself had nothing particular to complain of; but the prisoners

here speak of Captain Shortland as the most detestable of men; and

they bestow on him the vilest and most abusive epithets. The prisoners

began to dig a hole under prison No. 6, and had made considerable

progress towards the outer wall, when a man, who came from Newburyport

betrayed them to Capt. Shortland. This man had, it was said, changed

his name in America, on account of forgery.--Be that as it may, he was

sick at Chatham where we paid him every attention, and subscribed

money for procuring him the means of comfort. Shortland gave him two

guineas, and sent him to Ireland; or the prisoners would have hanged

him for a traitor to his countrymen. The hypocritical scoundrel's

excuse was conscience and humanity; for he told Shortland that we

intended to murder him, and every one else in the neighbourhood.

Shortland said he knew better; that "he was fearful of our escaping,

but never had any apprehensions of personal injury from an American;

that they delighted in plaguing him and contriving the means of

escape; but he never saw a cruel or murderous disposition in any of

them."

The instant Capt. Shortland discovered the attempt to escape by

digging a subterraneous passage, he drove all the prisoners into the

yard of No. 1, making them take their baggage with them; and in a few

days after, when he thought they might have begun another hole, but

had not time to complete it, he moved them into another yard and

prison, and so he kept moving them from one prison to the other, and

took great credit to himself for his contrivance; and in this way he

harrassed our poor fellows until the day before our arrival at the

prison. He had said that he was resolved not to suffer them to remain

in the same building and yard more than ten days at a time; and this

was a hardship they resolved not voluntarily to endure; for the

removal of hammocks and furniture and every little article, was an

intolerable grievance; and the more the prisoners appeared pestered,

the greater was the enjoyment of Captain Shortland. It was observed

that whenever, in these removals, there were much jamming and

squeezing and contentions for places, it gave this man pleasure; but

that the ease and comfort of the prisoners gave him pain. The united

opinion of the prisoners was, that he was a very bad hearted man. He

would often stand on the military walk, or in the market square,

whenever there was any difference, or tumult, and enjoy the scene with

malicious satisfaction. He appeared to delight in exposing prisoners

in rainy weather, without sufficient reason. This has sent many of our

poor fellows to the grave, and would have sent more had it not been

for the benevolence and skill of Dr. M'Grath. We thought Miller and

Osmore skilled in tormenting; but Shortland exceeded them both by a

devilish deal. The prisoners related to me several instances of cool

and deliberate acts of torment, disgraceful to a government of

Christians; for the character and general conduct of this commander

could not be concealed from them. He wore the British colours on his

house, and acted under this emblem of sovereignty.

It was customary to count over the prisoners twice a week; and after

the sweepers had brushed out the prisons, the guard would send to

inform the commander that they were all ready for his inspection. On

these occasions, Shortland very seldom omitted staying away as long as

he possibly could, merely to vex the prisoners; and they at length

expressed their sense of it; for he would keep them standing until

they were weary. At last they determined not to submit to it; and

after waiting a sufficient time, they made a simultaneous rush

forward, and so forced their passage back into their prison-house. To

punish this act, Shortland stopped the country people from coming into

market for two days. _At this juncture we arrived_; and as the

increase of numbers, increased our obstinacy, the Captain began to

relax; and after that, he came to inspect the prisoners, as soon as

they were paraded for that purpose. It was easy to perceive that the

prisoners had, in a great measure, conquered the hard hearted, and

vindictive Capt. Shortland.

The roof of the prison to which we were consigned, was very leaky; and

it rained on this dreary mountain almost continually; place our beds

wherever we could, they were generally wet. We represented this to

Capt. Shortland; and to our complaint was added that of the worthy and

humane Dr. M'Grath; but it produced no effect; so that to the ordinary

miseries of a prison, we, for a long time endured the additional one

of wet lodgings, which sent many of our countrymen to their graves.

We owe much to the humanity of Dr. M'Grath, a very worthy man, and a

native of Ireland. Was M'Grath commander of this Depot, there would be

no difficulty with the prisoners. They would obey him through

affection and respect; because he considers us rational beings, with

minds cultivated like his own, and susceptible of gratitude, and

habituated to do, and receive acts of kindness; whereas the great

Capt. Shortland considers us all as a base set of men, degraded below

the rank of Englishmen, towards whom nothing but rigor should be

extended. He acted on this false idea; and has like his superiors

reaped the bitter fruit of his own ill judged conduct. He might, by

kind and respectful usage, have led the Americans to any thing just

and honorable; but it was not in his power, nor all the Captains in

his nation, to force them to acknowledge and quietly submit to his

tyranny.

Dr. M'Grath was a very worthy man, and every prisoner loved him; but

M'Farlane, his assistant, a Scotchman, was the reverse; in dressing,

or bleeding, or in any operation, he would handle a prisoner with a

brutal roughness, that conveyed the idea that he was giving way to the

feelings of revenge, or national hatred.[Q] Cannot a Scotchman

testify his _unnatural_ loyalty to the present reigning family of

England without treating an American with cruelty and contempt.

Dr. Dobson, the superintendant physician of the Hospital-ship at

Chatham, was a very worthy and very skilful gentleman. We, Americans,

ought never to forget his goodness towards us. Some of us esteem him

full as high as Dr. M'Grath, and some more highly. They are both

however, worthy men, and deserve well of this country. There is

nothing men vary more in than in their opinion of and attachment to

physicians. Dobson and M'Grath deserve medals of gold, and hearts of

gratitude, for their kind attention to us all.

CHAPTER IV.

The establishment of prison-ships at Chatham is broken up, and the

last of the prisoners were marched from Plymouth to this place, the

30th of November. They were marched from that place to this, in one

day, half leg deep in mud. Some lost their shoes; others, to preserve

them, took them off, and carried them in their hands. When they

arrived here, they were indeed objects of pity; nevertheless they were

immediately shut up in a cold, damp prison, without any bedding, or

any of the ordinary conveniences, until they could be examined and

described in the commander's books; after which they were permitted to

mix with the rest of their countrymen. We found many of them, the day

after their arrival, unable to walk, by reason of their too long

protracted march, in a very bad road. A prudent drover would not have

risked his cattle by driving them through such a road in a few hours.

Such a thing never was done in America, with British prisoners.

I find all the prisoners here deeply exasperated against Captain

Shortland, and too much prejudiced to hear any thing in his favor. I

presume they have reason for it. As I have but just arrived, I have

had but little opportunity of seeing and judging his conduct. Instead

of his being a bad hearted man, I am disposed to believe that the

fault is in his understanding and education. I suspect that he is a

man of narrow views; that he has not sufficient information, or

capacity, to form a right judgment of the peculiar cast and character

of the people under his charge. He has never, perhaps, considered,

that these descendants of Englishmen, the free inhabitants of the new

world, have been born and brought up in, if we may speak so, Indian

freedom; on which freedom has been superinduced an education purely

democratic, in schools where degrading punishments are unknown; where

if a schoolmaster exercised the severity common in English and German

schools, they would tie the master's hands with his own bell-rope. He

has never considered that our potent militia choose their own

officers; and that the people choose all their officers and leaders

from among themselves; and that there are very few men indeed, none,

perhaps, in New-England, who would refuse to shake hands with a decent

yeoman. It is probable that Captain Shortland has never once reflected

that there are fewer grades of men between the lowest white man under

his charge and the highest in America, than there are between him and

the highest ranks in England. He has never considered the similarity

between the ancient Roman republican, and the republican of the United

States of America; nor why both republics deemed it abhorrent to

inflict stripes on their citizens. Shortland had not sufficient

sagacity to discover that playfulness, fun and frolic, formed a strong

trait in the character of the American sailor and militia man, for

they had hardly become, what is called in Europe, soldiers; drilling

and discipline had not obliterated the free and easy carriage of a

bold and fearless Yankee.

Sir Guy Carlton, afterwards Lord Dorchester, was Governor of Canada,

during the revolutionary war, and proved himself a wise man. He

penetrated the American character, and treated the American prisoners

captured in Canada, accordingly; and by doing so, he came near

breaking up our army; for our prisoners were softened and subdued by

his kindness and humanity; he sent them home well clothed, and well

fed, and most of them declared they never would fight against Sir Guy

Carlton. He knew the American character thoroughly; and was convinced

that harshness and severity would have no other effect than to excite

revenge and hatred. On the other hand, our prisoners could have no

very great respect for a _captain_, an officer, which they themselves

created by their votes, at pleasure; add to this, that several of the

prisoners had the title of _captain_ in their own country. Had the

commander of Dartmoor Prison been an old woman, the Americans would

have respected her sex and years, and obeyed her commands; but they

despised and hated Shortland, for his deficiency of head, heart, and

education; from all which originated those sad events which have

disgraced one nation, and exasperated the other forever. Shortland may

be excused, when it is considered that England lost her colonies by

not studying the American character; and the same inattention to the

natural operations of the human heart, is now raising America

gradually up to be the first naval power on the terraqueous globe. And

thus much for contempt.

There was an order that all lights should be put out by eight o'clock

at night, in every prison; and it was doubtless proper; but this order

was carried into execution with a rigor bordering on barbarity. On the

least glimpse of light discoverable in the prison, the guard would

fire in amongst us; and several were shot. Several Frenchmen were

wounded. This story was told--that a French captain of a privateer,

the night after he first came, was undressing himself, by his hammock,

when the sentry cried, "_Out lights!_" The Frenchman not understanding

English, kept it burning; the sentry fired, and scattered his brains

over the place; but this did not occur while I was there; but this I

aver, that several were shot, and I wondered that many were not

killed. I was shocked at the barbarity of the order.

About this time, the Derbyshire militia were relieved by a regiment of

regulars, who had been in Spain. They were chiefly Irish; and treated

us better than we were treated by the militia. They had infinitely

more generosity and manliness, as well as more intelligence. They

acted plays in the cock loft of No. 5. They have good music, and

tolerable scenery; and charge six pence for admission, to defray the

expense. This is a very pleasant way of making the British soldier

forget his slavery; and the American prisoner his bondage. These

generous hearted Irishmen would sometimes give us a song in honour of

_our_ naval victories. O, how we did long to be at liberty, when we

heard songs in honour of the _Constitution_ and of the _United

States_![R]

Some men are about to be sent off to Dartmouth, to return to the

United States; this has occasioned us to write letters to our friends

and connexions; but Captain Shortland is very jealous on this head; he

will not allow us to write to any of the neighbouring country people.

The English dare not trust their own people, much more the American

captives.

This is the latter part of the month of November; and the weather has

been generally rainy, dark, dismal and foggy. Sometimes we could

hardly see the sentinels on the walls. Sorrow and sadness within;

gloom, fog, or drizzly rain without. If the commissioners at Ghent do

not soon make peace, or establish an exchange, we shall be lost to our

country, and to hope. The newspapers now and then enliven us with the

prospect of peace. We are told that growing dissentions at Vienna will

induce Great Britain to get rid of her transatlantic enemy, in order

to combat those nearer home. Whenever we see in the newspapers an

article captioned "_News from Ghent_," we devour it with our eyes; but

instead of substance, generally find it empty wind. We are wearied

out. I speak for myself; and I hear the same expression from others.

Winter is commencing to add to our miseries. Poor clothing, miserable

lodging, poor, and inadequate food, long dismal nights, darkness, foul

air, bad smells, the groans of the sick, and distressed; the

execrations and curses of the half distracted prisoner, the unfeeling

conduct of our keepers and commander--all, all, all conspire to fill

up the cup of our sorrow; but we hope that one drop will not be added

after it is brim full; far then it will run over, and death will

follow!

_December._ Nothing new, or strange, worth recording; every day, and

every night brings the same sad picture, the same heart sinking

impressions. Until now, I could not believe that misfortune and

confinement, with a deprivation of the accustomed food, ease and

liberty enjoyed in our own dear country, could have wrought such a

change in the human person. The young have not only acquired wrinkles,

but appear dried up, and contracted in body and mind. I can easily

conceive that a few generations of the human species, passed in such

misery and confinement, would produce a race of beings, very inferior

to what we now are. The sailor, however, suffers less in appearance

than we landsmen; for my short cruise in a privateer, does not entitle

me to the name of a sailor. How often have I reflected on my rash

adventure! To leave the house of plenty, surrounded with every thing

comfortable, merely to change the scene, and see the watery world. To

quit my paternal roof, half educated, to dress wounds, and cut off the

limbs of those who might be mutilated, was about as mad a scheme as

ever giddy youth engaged in. But repining will do no good. I must not

despair, but make the best of my hard lot. If I have lost a portion of

ordinary education, I have passed the severer school of misfortune;

and should I live to return to America, I must strive to turn these

hardships to the best advantage. He who has not met adversity, has not

seen the most profitable part of human life.

There were times, during my captivity, especially in the long and

cheerless nights, when home, and all its endearments, rushed on my

mind; and when I reflected on my then situation, I burst into tears,

and wept aloud. It was then I was fearful that I should lose my

reason, and never recover it. Many a time have I _thought_ myself into

a fever, my tongue covered with a furr, and my brain seemed burning up

within my skull. It was company that preserved me. Had I been alone, I

should have been raving distracted. I had committed no crime; I was in

the service of my country, in a just and necessary war, declared by

the _people_ of the UNITED STATES, through their representatives in

_Congress_, and proclaimed to the world by our supreme executive

officer, _James Madison_. On this subject, I cannot help remarking the

ignorance of the people of England. In their newspapers, and in their

conversation, you will constantly find this idea held up, that the war

was the work of _Mr. Madison_ and _Bonaparte_. This shows their

ignorance of the affairs of our country. They are too ignorant to talk

with on the constitution of our government; and on the character and

conduct of our administration. It is no wonder that they are

astonished at our victories, by sea and by land, when they are so

totally ignorant of our country, of its endless resources, of its

invincible republican spirit, of its _strong_ government, founded on

the affections of the people; and of the vigor, and all commanding

intellect that pervades and directs the whole.

On the 28th of this month, December, 1815, the news arrived here that

a treaty of peace was signed the 24th instant, at Ghent. After a

momentary stupor, acclamations of joy burst forth from every mouth. It

flew like wild fire through the prison; and _peace! peace! peace!_

echoed throughout these dreary regions. To know that we were soon to

return home, produced a sensation of joy beyond the powers of

expression! Some screamed, hollowed, danced, sung, and capered, like

so many Frenchmen. Others stood in amaze, with their hands in their

pockets, as if doubtful of its truth. In by far the greater part,

however, it gave a glow of health and animation to the wan cheek of

the half sick, and, hitherto, cheerless prisoner. Some unforgiving

spirits hail the joyful event as bringing them nearer the period of

revenge, which they longed to exercise on some of their tyrannical

keepers. Many who had meditated escape, and had hoarded up every penny

for that event, now brought it forth to spend in celebration of their

regular deliverance. Even hard hearted Shortland appeared to bend from

the haughty severity of his jailor-like manner, and can now speak to

an American as if he were of the same species with himself. He has

even allowed us to hoist our national colors on these prisons; and

appears not to be offended at the sound of mirth and hilarity, which

now echoes throughout these extensive mansions. I say extensive, for I

suppose the whole of these prisons, yards, hospitals, stores and

houses, are spread over twenty acres of ground. [_See the plate._]

We calculate that the ratification of the treaty by the _President_ of

the _United States_, will arrive in England by the 1st of April, at

which period there will not be an American left in this place. The

very thoughts of it keep us from sleeping. Amidst this joy for peace,

and for the near prospect of our seeing, once more, our dear America,

there is not a man among us but feels disposed to try again the tug of

war with the Britons, should they impress and flog our seamen, or

instigate the savages of the wilderness to scalp and tomahawk the

inhabitants of our frontiers. This war, and this harsh imprisonment,

will add vigor to our arms, should the people of America again

declare, by their representatives in congress, that individual

oppression, or the nation's wrongs, render it expedient to sail, or

march against a foe, whose tender mercies are cruelty. We can tell our

countrymen, when we return home, what the Britons are, as their

prisoners can tell the English what the Americans are.--"_By their

fruits shall ye know them._"

We invite our readers to peruse the _historical journal_ of the

campaigns of 1759, by Capt. Knox, where the immortal Wolfe cut such a

glorious figure in burning the houses, and plundering the wretched

peasantry of Canada. He says, "The detachments of regulars and

rangers, under Major Scott and Captain Goreham, who went down the

river on the 1st instant, are returned. They took a great quantity of

black cattle and sheep; an immense deal of plunder, such as _household

stuff, books and apparel, burnt above eleven hundred houses, and

destroyed several hundred acres of corn_, beside _some fisheries_, and

made sixty prisoners;"--and this just before winter! Have we,

Americans, ever been guilty of such deeds? Yet we, Yankees, have been

taught from our childhood to eulogize _Wolfe_, and _Amherst_, and

_Monckton_, and to speak in raptures of the glorious war in 1759, when

British soldiers joined the savages in scalping Frenchmen!

During this month, a number of prisoners have been sent to this prison

from Plymouth. They came here from Halifax; they were principally

seamen, taken out of prizes, which the English retook. They all make

similar complaints of hard usage, bad and very scanty food, and no

attention to their health or comfort. There are now, at this depot,

about _Twenty-Three Hundred and Fifty Americans_, who were

_impressed_, previously to the war, into the British service, by

English ships and English press-gangs. They are the stoutest and most

hardy looking men in the prison. This is easily accounted for. When

the British go on board an American merchant ship to look for English

sailors, they adopt one easy rule, viz.--they select the stoutest,

most hardy, and healthy looking men, and swear that they are

Englishmen. After they have selected one of these fine fellows, it is

in vain that he produces his protection, or any other evidence of his

American birth and citizenship.

We learn from these seamen, that as soon as conveyed on board the

British men of war, they are examined as to the length of time they

have been at sea; and according to the knowledge and experience they

appear to have, they are stationed; and if they grumble at the duty

assigned them, they are called mutinous rascals, and threatened with

the cat; the warrant officers are charged to watch them closely, lest

they should attempt to pervert the crew, and to prevent them from

sending letters from the ship to their friends. Should any letters be

detected on them, the sailors are charged, on pain of the severest

punishment, to deliver them to some of the commissioned officers.

If they complained of their hard fate to their messmates, they were

liable to punishment, and if they attempted to regain their liberty,

and were detected, they were stripped, tied up, and most cruelly and

disgracefully whipped, like a negro slave. Can any thing be conceived

more humiliating to the feelings of men, born and brought up as we all

are? Can we ever be cordial friends with such a people, even in time

of peace? Will ever a man of our country, or his children after him,

forgive this worse than Algerine treatment?

Several of the most intelligent of these impressed men related to me

the particulars of the treatment, they, at various times, received;

and I had committed them to paper; but they are too mean, low and

disgusting to be recorded. The pitiful evasions, unworthy arts, and

even falsehoods of some captains of his Britannic majesty's line of

battle ships, when a seaman produced his protection; or offered to

prove his nativity, or identify his person, as marked in his

descriptive roll, were such, as to make me bless my stars that I did

not belong to their service. There were, however, some instances of

noble and generous conduct; which came up to the idea we, once,

entertained of English honor, before the solid bullion of the English

naval character was beaten into such thin, such very thin gold leaf,

as to gild so many thousands of their epauletted seamen. The officers

of the _Poictiers_ were spoken of with respect; and, by what I could

learn, the smaller the vessel, the worse treatment was experienced by

our prisoners, and impressed seamen; your little-big-men being always

the greatest tyrants. Among these small fry of the mistress of the

ocean, "_you damned Yankee rascal_," was a common epithet. Our own

land officers had often to remark, when they came in contact with the

British, especially in the night, as at Bridgewater, and at the

repulse at Fort Erie, that the British colonels and other officers,

were heard repeatedly to use expressions of this sort--"No quarter to

the _damned yankees_!" "Form! Form! for the _damned yankees_ are close

upon us!" Colonel _Drummond's_ last words, when he surmounted the

rampart at Fort Erie, was in the like style of language. How many

lives have these expressions of contempt cost the British!

Many of the impressed seamen now here, have told me, that they have

been lashed to the gang-way, and most severely whipped, even to the

extent of three dozen, for refusing to do, what the captain of a

British man of war called "THEIR DUTY!" Some of these men have

replied, "it is _my duty_ to serve _my own_ country; and fight against

its enemies;" and for saying so, have been farther abused. Have ever

the French, Spaniards, Portuguese, Italians, Germans, Dutch, Danes,

Swedes, Russians, Prussians, Turks, or _Algerines_ treated American

citizens in this way? And yet our federalists can never bear to hear

us speak, in terms of resentment, against "the bulwark of our

religion." O, Caleb! Caleb! Thou hast a head and so has a beetle.[S]

We had all more or less money from the American government; and some

of the impressed men brought money with them. This attracted the

avaricious spirit of our neighbors; so that our market was filled, not

only with vegetables, but animal food. There were also seen in our

market, piles of broad cloth, boxes of hats, boots, shoes, and many

other articles. The greatest pick-pockets of all were the Jews, with

their watches, seals and trinkets, and _bad books_. A moral commander

would have swept the prison yard clean of such vermin. The women who

attend our market are as sharp as the Jews, and worse to deal with;

for a sailor cannot beat them down as he can one of these swindling

Israelites. Milk is cheap, only 4d. per gallon, but they know how to

water it.

The language and phraseology of these market people are very rude.

When puffing off the qualities of their goods, when they talk very

fast, we can hardly understand them. They do not speak near so good

English as our common market people do in America. The best of them

use the pronoun _he_ in a singular manner--as can _he_ pay me? Can

_he_ change? For can _you_ pay me? Or _you_ change? I am fully of

opinion with those who say that the American people taken

collectively, as a nation, speak the English language with more purity

than the Britons, taken collectively. Every man or boy of every part

of the United States would be promptly understood by the men of

letters in London; but every man and boy of Old England would not be

promptly understood by the lettered men in the capital towns of

America. Is it not the bible that has preserved the purity of our

language in America? These English men and women do not speak with the

grammatical correctness of our people. As to the Scotch, their

barbarisms that are to be found even in print, are affrontive to the

descendants of Englishmen. Where, among the white people of the United

States, can we find such shocking barbarities as we hear from the

common people of Scotland? And yet we find that the Prince Regent is

at the head of an institution for perpetuating the unwritten language

to the highlanders. We shall expect to hear of a similar undertaking,

under the same patronage, for keeping alive the language of his dear

allies, the _Kickapoos_ and _Pottowattomies_!! for the language of

slaves or savages, are the needed props of some of the thrones in

Europe.

I am sorry to remark that the Christmas holy-days have been recently

marked with no small degree of intoxication, and its natural

consequence, quarrelling among the prisoners. The news of peace; and

the expectation of being soon freed from all restraint, have operated

to unsettle the minds of the most unruly, and to encourage riot.

Drinking, carousing, and noise, with little foolish tricks, are now

too common.--Some one took off a shutter, or blind, from a window of

No. 6, and as the persons were not delivered up by the standing

committee, Captain Shortland punished the whole, college fashion, by

stopping the market, or as this great man was pleased wittily to call

it, _an embargo_. At length the men were given up to Shortland, who

put them in the _black hole_ for ten days.

To be a cook is the most disagreeable and dangerous office at this

depot. They are always suspected, watched and hated, from an

apprehension that they defraud the prisoner of his just allowance. One

was flogged the other day for skimming the fat off the soup. The grand

Vizier's office at Constantinople, is not more dangerous than a

cook's, at this prison, where are collected four or five thousand

hungry American sons of liberty. The prisoners take it upon themselves

to punish these pot-skimmers in their own way.

We have in this collection of prisoners, a gang of hard-fisted

fellows, who call themselves "THE ROUGH ALLIES." They have assumed to

themselves the office of accuser, judge and executioner. In my

opinion, they are as great villains as could be collected in the

United States. They appear to have little principle, and as little

humanity, and many of them are given up to every vice; and yet these

ragamuffins have been allowed to hold the scale and rod of justice.

These _rough allies_ make summary work with the accused, and seldom

fail to drag him to punishment. I am wearied out with such lawless

anti-American conduct.

_January 30th._ The principal conversation among the most considerate

is, when will the treaty be returned, ratified; for knowing the high

character of our commissioners, none doubt but that the President and

Senate will ratify, what they have approved. We are all in an uneasy,

and unsettled state of mind; more so than before the news of peace.

Before that news arrived, we had settled down in a degree of despair;

but now we are preparing and planning our peaceable departure from

this loathsome place.

I would ask the reader's attention to the conduct of Capt. Shortland,

the commanding officer of this depot of prisoners, as well as to the

conduct of the men under his charge, as the conduct and events of this

period have led on to a tragedy that has filled our native land with

mourning and indignation. I shall aim at truth and impartiality, and

the reader may make such allowance as our situation may naturally

afford, and his cool judgment suggest.

In the month of January, 1815, Captain Shortland commenced a practice

of counting over the prisoners out of their respective prisons, in the

cold, raw air of the yard, where we were exposed above an hour,

unnecessarily to the severity of the weather. After submitting to this

caprice of our keeper, for several mornings, in hopes he would be

satisfied as to the accurate number of the men in prison, we all

refused to go out again in wet and raw weather. Shortland pursued his

usual method of stopping the market; but finding that it had no

effect, he determined on using force; and sent his soldiers into the

yard, and ordered them to drive the prisoners into the prison _in the

middle of the afternoon_, whereas they heretofore remained out until

the sun had set, and then they all went quietly into their

dormitories. The regiment of regulars had been withdrawn, and a

regiment of Somersetshire militia had taken their place, a set of

stupid fellows, and generally speaking ignorant officers. The regiment

of regulars were clever fellows, and Shortland was awed by their

character; but he felt no awe, or respect, for these irregulars.

The prisoners told the soldiers that this was an unusual time of day

for them to leave the yard; and that they would not tamely submit to

such caprice. The soldiers could only answer by repeating their

_orders_. More soldiers were sent for; but they took special care to

assume a position to secure their protection. The soldiers began now

to use force with their bayonets. All this time Shortland stood on the

military walk with the major of the regiment, observing the progress

of his orders. Our men stood their ground. On observing this

opposition, Shortland became enraged; and ordered the major to give

the word for the soldiers _to fire_. The soldiers were drawn up in a

half circle, to keep them from scattering.

We were now hemmed in between No. 7, and the wall, that divided this

from the yard of No. 4. The major then gave orders to the officer in

the yard, to "charge bayonet." This did not occasion our prisoners to

retreat; they rather advanced; and some of them told the soldiers,

that if they pricked a single man, they would disarm them. Shortland

was watching all these movements from behind the gate; and finding

that he had not men enough to drive them in, drew his soldiers out of

the yard. After this, the prisoners went into the prison of their own

accord, when the turnkey sounded a horn.

These militia men have been somewhat intimidated by the threatenings

of the "rough allies," before mentioned. These national guards thought

they could drive us about like so many Frenchmen; but they have found

their mistake. A man escaped from the black-hole, who had been

condemned to remain in it during the war, for attempting to blow up a

ship. The prisoners were determined to protect him; and when Shortland

found that the prisoners would not betray him into his hands, he

resorted to his usual embargo of the market; and sent his soldiers in

after the prisoner; but he might as well have sought a needle in a

hay-mow; for such was the difficulty of finding an individual among

_six thousand_. They ransacked every birth, and lurking place, and

passed frequently by the man without being able to identify him, as

our fellow had disguised himself both in face, and in person. The

prisoners mixed in so entirely with the soldiers, that the latter

could not act, and were actually fearful of being disarmed. When these

Somersetshire militia found that we were far from being afraid of

them, they ceased to be insolent, and treated us with something like

respect. There was a considerable degree of friendship between us and

the late regiment of regulars, who were gentlemen, compared with these

clumsy militia.

There are about four hundred and fifty negroes in prison No. 4; and

this assemblage of blacks affords many curious anecdotes, and much

matter for speculation. These blacks have a ruler among them whom they

call _king DICK_. He is by far the largest, and I suspect the

strongest man in the prison. He is six feet three inches in height,

and proportionably large. This black Hercules commands respect, and

his subjects tremble in his presence. He goes the rounds every day,

and visits every birth to see if they are all kept clean. When he goes

the rounds, he puts on a large bear-skin cap; and carries in his hand

a huge club. If any of his men are dirty, drunken, or grossly

negligent, he threatens them with a beating; and if they are saucy,

they are sure to receive one. They have several times conspired

against him, and attempted to dethrone him; but he has always

conquered the rebels. One night several attacked him while asleep in

his hammock; he sprang up and seized the smallest of them by his feet,

and thumped another with him. The poor negro who had thus been made a

beetle of, was carried next day to the hospital, sadly bruised, and

provokingly laughed at. This ruler of the blacks, this _king RICHARD_

the IVth, is a man of good understanding; and he exercises it to a

good purpose. If any one of his color cheats, defrauds, or steals from

his comrades, he is sure to be punished for it. Negroes are generally

reputed to be thieves. Their faculties are commonly found to be

inadequate to the comprehension of the moral system; and as to the

Christian system, their notions of it, generally speaking, are a

burlesque on every thing serious. The punishment which these blacks

are disposed to inflict on one another for stealing, partakes of

barbarity; and ought never to be allowed, where the whites have the

control of them.--By a punishment called "_cobbing_," they have

occasioned the glutaeus muscles to mortify.

Beside his majesty _King Dick_, these black prisoners have among them

a Priest, who preaches every Sunday. He can read, and he gives good

advice to his brethren; and his prayers are very much in the strain of

what we have been used to hear at home. In the course of his

education, he has learnt, it is said, to know the nature of crimes and

punishments; for, it is said, that while on board the Crown Prince

prison-ship at Chatham, he received a dozen lashes for stealing some

clothing; but we must make allowance for stories; for preachers have

always complained of the calumnies of their enemies. If his whole

history was known and correctly narrated, he might be found a duly

qualified preacher, to such a congregation as that of prison No. 4.

This black man has a good deal of art and cunning, and has drawn

several whites into his church; and his performances have an imposing

cast; and are often listened to with seriousness. He appears to have

learnt his sermons and prayers from a diligent reading of good books;

but as to the Christian system, the man has no more idea of it than he

has of the New Jerusalem; but then his good sentences, delivered,

frequently, with great warmth, and his string of good advice, given in

the negro dialect, make altogether, a novelty, that attracts many to

hear him; and he certainly is of service to the blacks; and it is a

fact, that the officers have heard him hold forth, without any

expressions of ridicule; while the majority of these miserable black

people are too much depraved to pay any serious attention to his

advice.

It is curious to observe the natural alliance between _king_ Dick and

this _priest_. Dick honors and protects him, while the priest

inculcates respect and obedience to this _Richard the 4th_. Here we

see the _union of church and state_ in miniature. Who told this negro,

that to maintain this influence, he must rally round the huge club of

the strongest and most powerful man in this black gang of sinners? And

who told king Dick that his nervous arm and massy club, were

insufficient without the aid of the preacher of terror? Neither of

them had read, or heard of Machiavel. Who taught this black orator,

that the priesthood must seek shelter behind the throne, from the

hostilities of reason? And who told "the rough allies," the Janisaries

of this imperium in imperio, that they must assist and countenance

both Dick and the priest? The science of government is not so deep and

complicated a thing as king-craft and priest-craft would make us

believe, since these rude people, almost deserving the name of a

banditti, threw themselves into a sort of government, that is to be

discerned in the early stages of every government. The love of power,

of influence, and of distinction, is clearly discernible, even among

the prisoners at Dartmoor. When I think of these things I am disposed

to despise what is called _education_, which is, after all, but a

_wooden leg_, a mere clumsy, unfeeling substitute for a live one,

barely sufficient to keep a man out of the mud.

Beside king _Dick_, and _Simon_, the priest, there was another black

divine, named _John_. He had been a servant of _Edward, Duke of Kent_,

third son of the present king of England; on which account, black John

assumed no small state and dignity. He left the service of his royal

highness; and was found on board of an American ship, and was pressed

from thence into a British man of war, where he served a year or two,

in the station of captain's steward; but disliking the service, he

claimed his release, as an American; and was sent with a number of

other pressed men, to the prison ships at Chatham; and he came to this

prison, with a number of other Africans. After king Dick, and Simon,

the priest, _black John_ was the next man of the most consequence

among the negroes; and considering his family connections; and that he

knew how to read and write, it is not much to be wondered at. John

conceived that his influence with his royal highness was sufficient to

encourage him to write to the Duke to get him set at liberty; who

actually applied to the transport-board with that view; but they could

not grant it. He received, however, a letter from Capt. Hervy, the

Duke's secretary, on the subject, who added, that as he had been so

unwise as to refuse to serve his majesty, he must suffer for his

folly. We have been particular in this anecdote; and we request our

readers to bear it in mind, when we shall come to contrast this prompt

answer of the royal Duke to the letter of a negro, with the conduct of

Mr. Beasley, our agent for prisoners. The prisoners themselves noticed

it; and envied the negro, while they execrated the haughty, unfeeling

agent, who seldom, or ever answered their letters, or took any notice

of their applications.

The poor negro consoled himself for his disappointment by turning

Christian; and being a pretty clever fellow, and having formerly

belonged to the royal family, it was considered an act of kindness and

magnanimity, to raise him to the rank of _deacon_ in Simon's church.

_Deacon John_ generally acts as a privy counsellor to the king; and

is sometimes a judge in criminal cases, when his majesty allows of

one, which is not very often; for he most commonly acts in as despotic

and summary a manner as the _Dey_ of Algiers himself.

King Dick keeps a boxing-school, where the white men are sometimes

admitted. No. 4 is noted, also, for fencing, dancing and music; and,

however extraordinary it may appear, they teach these accomplishments

to the white men. A person, entering the cock-loft of No. 4, would be

highly amused with the droll scenery which it exhibited; and if his

sense of smelling be not too refined, may relish, for a little while,

this strange assemblage of antics. Here he may see boxing, fencing,

dancing, raffling, and other modes of gambling; and to this, we may

add, drawing with chalk and charcoal; and tricks of slight-of-hand;

and all this to gratify the eye; and for the sense of hearing, he may

be regaled with the sound of clarionets, flutes, violins, flagelets,

fifes, tambarines, together with the whooping and singing of the

negroes. On Sundays this den of thieves is transformed into a temple

of worship, when _Simon_, the _priest_, mounted on a little stool,

behind a table covered with green cloth, proclaims the wonders of

creation, and salvation to the souls of true believers; and hell fire

and brimstone, and weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth, to the

hardened and impenitent sinner, and obstinate rebel of proffered

mercy. As he approaches the end of his discourse, he grows warmer and

warmer, and, foaming at the mouth, denounces all the terrors of the

law against every heaven-daring, God-provoking sinner. I have

frequently noticed the effect of this black man's oratory upon some of

his audience. I have known him to solemnize his whole audience, a few

numskulled negroes alone excepted. While he has been thus thundering

and lightning, sullen moans and hollow groans issue from different

parts of the room; a proof that his zealous harrangue solemnizes some

of his hearers; while a part of them are making grimaces, or betraying

marks of impatience; but no one dare be riotous; as near the preacher

sat his majesty king Dick, with his terrible club, and huge bear-skin

cap. The members of the church sat in a half circle nearest the

priest; while those who had never passed over the threshold of grace,

stood up behind them.

A little dispute, if not quite a schism, has existed between Simon,

the priest, and deacon John. The latter, while in the family of a

royal Duke, had learned that it was proper to read prayers, already

made, and printed to their hands; but Simon said, he should make but

few converts if he _read_ his prayers. He said that prayers ought to

spring at once, warm from the heart; and that _reading_ prayers was

too cold a piece of work for him or his church. But John said, in

reply, that _reading_ prayers was practised by his royal highness the

duke of Kent, and all the noble families in England, as well as on

board all his Britannic majesty's ships of war. But Simon, who had

never waited on royalty, nor ever witnessed the religious exercises of

an English man of war, would not believe this practice of the British

nation ought to have weight with the reformed Christians of the

_United States_. There was a diversity of opinion in the black church;

and the dispute once grew so warm, that Simon told John, that it was

his opinion, that "he who could not pray to his God, without a book,

would be damned."

His majesty king Dick finding that this dispute might endanger the

peace of the church, and, possibly, diminish his own influence,

advised that the dispute should be left to the decision of a

neighboring methodist preacher, who sometimes visited the prison, in a

labor of love. The preacher came, and heard patiently, the arguments

of both sides, and finally decided, as king Dick doubtless foresaw, in

favor of Simon. He said that the reason why his royal highness the

duke of Kent, and all the royal family, and all the nobility and

parliament men _read_ their prayers, was, because they had not time to

make them, each one for himself. Now Deacon John was a better reasoner

than Simon; but Simon had the most cant; and he, of course, prevailed.

It is probable that John had concluded, that if he could carry a vote

for _reading_ prayers, he, himself, would be the reader; and then he

should become as conspicuous as Simon. Emulation, and the desire of

distinction, the great, and indeed main-spring of this world, was as

apparent among these degraded sons of Africa, as among any white

gentlemen and ladies in the land. John's ambition, and his envy,

operated just like the ambition and envy of white people. At length,

when the deacon found that, since the decision of the methodist, his

supporters deserted him, he made his mind up to follow the current,

and to justify his conduct by inculcating a spirit of conciliation and

union. This shrewd fellow knew, that if he did not follow the

current, he should lose the privilege he enjoyed of sitting at the end

of the table, opposite to Simon; and of leaning his head on the great

bible, while Simon was preaching; privileges too great to be slighted

in such a church; and directly after a religious dispute.

Since I returned home, and while transcribing this journal for the

press, I have thought that the conduct of deacon John was from the

self same principle with that which actuated the federalists, since

the dissolution and disgrace of the _Hartford Convention_. This

faction, it seems, found themselves after the peace, and after the

battle of New Orleans, going fast down the stream of popular opinion;

and then it was that they preached up conciliation, liberality, and

union; then it was they caught hold of the skirts of the land and

naval heroes; nay, they went so far as to hail Jefferson and Madison

as brother _Unitarians_! In short, the situation of black John, and

the federalists of Massachusetts, was exactly the same; and their

conduct in every point, similar; and the leading federalists of Boston

have been left, like the deacon of the negro congregation, in No. 4,

Dartmoor prison, to lean upon the great bible; which sacred volume

these persons are sending to all parts of the world, not being

sufficiently awake to consider it will _democratize_ other parts of

the world, beside America.

When the British General Prescott commanded at Rhode Island, in the

revolutionary war, (the same whom our Major Barton stole, and carried

off in the night, from his head quarters, in a whale boat) he was very

much disliked for his silly haughtiness, and unbecoming pride. One day

a Baptist preacher waited upon him to complain of an oppression

exercised on some of his followers, by the military, and taking his

bible out of his pocket, he began to read a passage which he deemed

applicable to the case; on sight of which the General flew into a

rage, and drove the preacher, with his bible, out of the room, saying,

"_if it had not been for that d--d book, we should not have had this

rebellion_." Bating the profane epithet, we give the angry Scotchman

credit for his sagacity. The observation would not have disgraced his

countryman, David Hume.

Simon, the priest, enjoyed one great and envied privilege, which John

never pretended to, namely, an acquaintance and intercourse with the

angel _Gabriel_. He had many revelations from this celestial

messenger, and related them to his church. They related principally

to the fate of his fellow prisoners; one, in particular, he told to

his church with awe and solemnity.

I saw, said he, a great light, shining only through the grates of one

window, before the hour of day break. I looked up, and saw something

like a man with wings. I was at first frightened, and cried out, "_who

comes dare?_" for I could not see his face. Directly the bars of the

window beat each way, and his head and shoulders came in, when I knew

him to be the angel _Gabriel_. "Simon," said he, "I am come to tell

you that this prison will be sunk before forty days, because its

inhabitants are so wicked, and will not repent." _Den I tank him_; and

he drew back his head again; and the iron bars were restored to their

place again, when he spread out his wings, which were covered with ten

thousand stars, which made a great light when he flew away. Such was

the method used, by this artful black man, to rouse his countrymen out

of the sink of vice; and it had the desired effect. This prediction

solemnized several of the negroes, and had more or less effect upon

all of them. They became more liberal in their contributions, which

enabled Simon to purchase a new green coat. It seemed as if the most

profligate of these fellows, had a secret dread of Simon's prediction,

and were willing to gain his favor by _contributions_, instead of

repentance. Has not this disposition founded churches, monasteries and

nunneries? Many of Simon's church are strongly impressed with the

apprehension of the prison sinking within forty days.

These blacks have been desirous of having their prison the centre of

amusement. They act plays twice a week, and as far as close imitation

of what they have seen and heard, and broad grimace, they are

admirable; but they are, half the time, ignorant of the meaning of the

words they utter.--The gate-ways and century-boxes are plaistered over

with play-bills, announcing--OTHELLO, for the first time, by Mr.

_Robinson_--DESDEMONA, by Mr. _Jones_. I seldom failed to attend these

exhibitions, and must confess that I never before or since, or perhaps

ever shall laugh so heartily as at these troglodyte dramas. Their

acting was assuredly the most diverting beyond all comparison, or

example, I ever saw. They would cut so many negroish capers in

tragedy, grin and distort their countenances in such a variety of

inhuman expressions, while they kept their bodies either stiff as so

many stakes, or in a monkeyish wriggle, and ever and anon such a

baboon stare at Desdemona, whose face, neck and hands, were covered

with chalk and red paint, to make _him_ look like a beautiful white

lady--was altogether, considering that they themselves were very

serious, the most ludicrous exhibition of two legged ridiculousness I

ever witnessed. In the midst of my loud applauses, I could not, when

my sore sides would allow me to articulate, help exclaiming--O!

Shakespeare! Shakespeare!--O! Garrick! Garrick!--what would not I give

(an indigent prisoner) could I raise you from the dead, that you might

see the black consequences of your own transcendent geniuses!--When

Garrick rubbed himself over with burnt cork to make himself look like

a Moor, or with lamp-black to resemble Mungo, it did pretty well; but

for a negro man to cover his forehead, neck and hands with chalk, and

his cheeks with vermillion, to make him look like an English, or

American beauty, was too much. Had I been going up the ladder to be

hanged, I should have laughed at this sight; for to all this

outrageous grimace, was added a fantastic habiliment, and an odour

from Desdemona and company, that associated the ideas of the skunk or

the polecat. I presume that their august majesties, the emperor and

empress of Hayti, have some means of destroying this association of

ideas, so revolting to Americans.

After all, this may be in us a disgust grounded more in prejudice than

nature. What we call delicacy is a refinement of civilization; and of

course a departure from nature. See how the brutes enjoy rolling and

wallowing in what _we_ call dirt; next to them, we may observe the

love of what _we_ call filth in savages, and of those persons in our

cities who stand nearest to them. Extreme cleanliness is the offspring

of riches, leisure, luxury, and extreme refinement; nevertheless it is

true what Swift says, that "persons with nice minds have nasty ideas."

I suffered greatly, and so did many of our countrymen, on our first

acquaintance with filth and vermin in this our British captivity. Many

a time have I got up from my dinner as hungry as I sat down, when

disgust has been greater than appetite. I have, however, gradually

surmounted antipathies I once thought insurmountable. I am not the

only one who has often retired from our disgusting repast, to my bunk

or sleeping birth, in silent agony, there to breathe out to my Maker,

woes too great for utterance. _O, Britain! Britain!_ will there not

be a day of retribution for these thy cruelties!

There are some in this dismal prison, who have been used all their

lives, not to conveniences only, but to delicacies; who are obliged to

submit to the disagreeables of this uncivilized mode of incarcerating

brave men, for one of the first of Grecian, Roman, English and

American virtues, the _love of country_, or _patriotism_. These

unfortunate men, with minds far elevated beyond the officers who are

placed here to guard, and to torment them, submit to their confinement

with a better grace than one could have expected. When these men have

eaten their stinted ration, vilely cooked, and hastily served up, they

return to their hammocks, or sleeping births, and there try "to steep

their senses in forgetfulness," until the recurrence of the next

disgusting meal. On the other hand, some have said that they never

before eat with such a keen appetite; and their only complaint has

been, that there was not one quarter enough for them to devour. I was

often satisfied with a quantity of food that was not half enough for

my companions. Some have since said, that they devoured their daily

allowance at Dartmoor, with more relish than they ever have since,

when set down at tables, covered as our American tables are, with

venison, poultry, the finest fish, and the best fruits of our country,

with choice old cider, and good foreign wines.

A thing very disagreeable to me, arose from causes not occasioned by

the enemy. I have been squeezed to soreness, by a crowd of rough,

overbearing men, who oft times appeared to be indifferent whether they

trampled you under feet or not. The "_rough allies_," so called, had

no feeling for men smaller and weaker than themselves. From this gang,

you could seldom get a civil answer. Their yells, and whooping, more

like savages than white men, were very troublesome. The conduct of

these, proved that it was natural for the strong to tyrannize over the

weak. I have often thought that our assemblage of prisoners, resembled

very much the Grecian and Roman democracies, which were far, very far,

beneath the just, rational, and wisely guarded democracy of our dear

America, for whose existence and honor we are all still heartily

disposed to risk our lives, and spill our blood.

As not allowing us prisoners a due and comfortable portion of clean

food, is the heavy charge I have to make against the British nation,

I shall here, once for all, attempt to describe the agonies I myself

sometimes felt, and observed others to endure, from cravings of

hunger; which are keen sensations in young men, not yet arrived to

their full growth. The hungry prisoner is seen to traverse the alleys,

backwards and forwards, with a gnawing stomach, and a haggard look;

while he sees the fine white loaves on the tables of the bread-seller,

when all that he possesses cannot buy a single loaf. I have known many

men tremble, and become sick at their stomachs, at the sight of bread

they could not obtain. Sometimes a prisoner has put away a portion of

his bread, and sworn to himself that he would not eat it until such an

hour after breakfast; he has, however, gone to it, and picked a few

crumbs from it, and replaced it; and sometimes he could no longer

resist the grinding torments of hunger, but devoured it with more than

canine appetite; for it must be understood that the interval between

the evening and morning meal was the most distressing. An healthy,

growing young man, feels very uncomfortable if he fasts five hours;

but to be without food, as we often were, for fourteen hours, was a

cruel neglect, or a barbarous custom. Our resource from hunger was

sleep; not but that the sensations of hunger, and the thoughts of the

deprivation, often prevented me from getting asleep; and at other

times, when wrapt in sleep, I have dreamed of setting down to a table

of the most delicious food, and most savory meats, and in the greatest

profusion; and amidst my imagined enjoyment, have waked in

disappointment, agony and tears. This was the keenest misery I ever

endured; and at such times, have I cursed the nation that allowed of

it, as being more barbarous than Algerines or wild Indians. The

comparative size of the pieces of beef and bread is watched with a

keen and jealous eye; so are even the bits of turnip in our soup, lest

one should have more than the other. I have noticed more acts of

meanness and dishonesty in men of respectable character, in the

division and acquisition of the articles of our daily food, than in

any other transaction whatever. Such as they would despise, were

hunger out of the question. The best apology I can make for the

practice of gaming is, the hope of alleviating this most abominable

system of starvation. Had we been duly and properly fed, we never

should have run so deeply into the hell of gambling. We did not want

money to buy clothing, or wine, or rum, but to buy beef, and bread,

and milk. I repeat it, all the irregularities, and, finally, the

horrors and death, that occurred in a remarkable manner, in this den

of despair, arose from the British system of scanty food for young

men, whose vigorous systems, and habits of being full fed, demanded a

third more solid flesh meat, than would satisfy a potatoe-eating

Irishman, an oat-feeding Scotchman, or an half starved English

manufacturer. After we have finished our own dinners in New England,

we give to our cats and dogs, and other domestic animals, more solid

nourishment, the remnant of our meals, than what we had often allowed

us in the ships and prisons of "_the world's last hope_,"

Pickering's[T] "_fast anchor'd isle_."

Among the abuses of Dartmoor prison, was that of allowing Jews to come

among us to buy clothes, and allowing some other people, worse than

Jews, to cheat us in the articles we purchased. How far our keepers

went "snacks" with these harpies, we never could know. We only

suspected that they did not enjoy all their swindling privileges

gratuitously. Before the immoral practice of gambling was introduced

and countenanced, it was no unusual thing to see men in almost every

birth, reading, or writing, or studying navigation. I have noticed the

progress of vice in some, with pain and surprise. I have seen men,

once respectable, give examples of vice that I cannot describe, or

even name; and I am fearful that some of our young boys, may carry

home to their hitherto pure and chaste country, vices they never had

any idea of when they left it. I believe Frenchmen, Italians, and

Portuguese, are much worse examples for our youth, than English,

Irish, or Scotchmen. I must say of the British that they are generally

men of better habits and morals than some of the continental nations.

But enough, and more than enough, on the depravity of the oldest of

the European nations.

_February 28th, 1815._--Time hangs heavily on the weary and restless

prisoner. His hopes of liberation, and his anxiety, increase daily and

hourly. _The Favorite! The Favorite_, is in every one's mouth; and

every one fixes the day of her arrival. We have just heard that she

was spoken near the coast of America, by the Sultan, a British 74, on

the 2d of February. If so, then she must arrive in a few days, with

the news of the ratification or rejection of the treaty of peace, by

Mr. Madison; and on this great event our happiness depends. Some of

the English merchants are so confident that our President will ratify

the treaty, that they are sending vast quantities of English

manufactures out to Halifax, to be ready to thrust into the ports of

America, as soon as we shall be able, legally, to admit them. It is

easy to perceive that the English are much more anxious to send us

their productions, than we are to receive them.

Our anxiety increases every day. We inquire of every one the news. We

wait with impatience for the newspapers, and when we receive them are

disappointed; not finding in them what we wish. They, to besure, speak

of the sitting of the _Vienna Congress_; and we have been expecting,

every day, that this political old hen had hatched out her various

sort of eggs. We expected that her motley brood would afford us some

fun. Here we expected to see a young hawk, and there a goslin, and

next a strutting turkey, and then a dodo, a loon, an ostrich, a wren,

a magpie, a cuckoo, and a wag-tail. But the old continental hen has

now set so long, that we conclude that her eggs are addled, and

incubation frustrated. During all this time, the Gallick cock is on

his roost at Elba, with his head under his wing.

We but now and then get a sight of Cobbett's Political Register; and

when we do, we devour it, and destroy it, before it comes to the

knowledge of our Ceroebrus. This writer has a manner _sui generis_,

purely his own; but it is somewhat surprising, how he becomes so well

informed of the actual state of things, and of the feelings and

opinions of both parties in our country. His acuteness, his wit, his

logic, and his surliness, form, altogether, a curious portraiture of

an English politician. We, now and then, get sight of American papers;

but they are almost all of them _federal_ papers, and contain matter

more hostile to our government than the _English_ papers. The most

detestable paper printed in London, is called, "_The Times_;" and that

is often thrown in our way; but even this paper is not to be compared

to the "Federal Republican," printed at Washington or Georgetown, or

to the Boston federal papers. When such papers are shown to us by the

English here we are fairly brought up, and know not what to say.

I cannot answer precisely for the impressions Governor Strong's

speeches and proclamations have made on others, I can only answer for

myself. They very much surprised and grieved me. I was born in the

same county where Mr. Strong resided, and where I believe he has

always lived and I had always entertained a respect for his serious

character, and have, from my boyhood, considered him among the very

sensible men, and even saints of our country; and all my connections

and relations gave their votes for good _Caleb Strong_, on whose

judgment and public conduct, my parents taught me to rely, with as

much confidence as if he had actually been a thirteenth apostle. Just

then what must have been my surprise, on reading his proclamations for

fasts and thanksgivings, and his speeches and messages to the

legislature and his conduct relative to the general government and the

militia; and above all for his strange conduct in organizing a

convention of malcontents at Hartford, in Connecticut. No event in New

England staggered me so much. When we learnt that he proclaimed

England to be "_the bulwark of the holy religion we profess_," I

concluded that it was a party calumny, until I saw its confirmation in

the attempts of his friends to vindicate the assertion. I then

concluded that one of two things must have existed; either Mr. Strong

had become superannuated and childish, or that the English Faction had

got behind his chair of government and under the table of the

counsel-board, and in the hollow panels of his audience chamber, and

completely bewitched our political _Barzilla_. I suspected that gang

of Jesuits, the _Essex Junto_, had put out his eyes, and was leading

him into danger and disgrace. It is undeniable that Governor Strong

has, in his public addresses, sided more with the declared enemy,

Britain, than with his own national government; and that he has said a

great deal tending to encourage the enemy to persist in their demands,

and to pursue the war, than he has to discourage them. It appears, in

truth, that the English consider him in a great measure their friend

and well wisher.

Is it possible that Governor Strong can be deluded away by the

missionary and bible societies of Old England, so as to mistake the

English for a religious people? I am very confident that there is

_less_ religion, or appearance of it, in London and in all their large

cities, than in any other civilized country of the same numbers, in

Europe. Their national churches are empty, while their streets and

their harbors are full of lewdness; and they have more thieves,

gamblers, forgers, cheats and bawds than any other nation upon earth.

Add to this, their laws are bloody, beyond modern example, their

military punishments horrible, and their treatment of prisoners of

war a disgrace to the name of Christians. Can Governor Strong be

totally ignorant of the policy of some in patronizing bible and

missionary societies? And does he not see the impracticability of the

scheme contemplated by the latter? If we divide the known countries of

the globe into thirty equal parts, _five_ will be found to be

_Christians_, _six Mahometans_, and _NINETEEN Pagans_. It is difficult

to believe that the first man, the governor and commander in chief of

the great and respectable commonwealth of Massachusetts, can seriously

expect that the missionary societies of England and of Boston can

effect this immense task or that it ever was the design of Providence

that all the families of the earth should think alike on subjects of

religion. Let us take things as the sons of men have always found

them, and not presume to oppugn Providence, who has decreed that there

shall be, every where, men of different colours, countenances, voices,

manner of speaking, of different feelings and views of things, and

also of different languages and of different opinions, as it regards

the Deity, and his government of the world; and that among this great

and doubtless necessary diversity of the views of him, we may have the

most pure and rational system of any. Let us then enjoy that system,

encourage a virtuous education and love one another, and leave to his

direction and control the myriads of rational beings on earth, of

which we, Christians, make so small a part. No, no, my countrymen, if

Governor Strong will not attend exclusively to the mere affairs of the

state, with its relative duties, and leave the great world to the

legislation of its great Creator, you had better allow him to retire

to Northampton, there to study in silence how to govern his own heart,

and how to work out his own salvation, instead of continuing the tool

of a turbulent and vicious party. I still think Mr. Strong is a man of

good intentions, and an honest patriot; but that he has been deluded

by artful men, who in their scheme of governing the whole nation have

found their account in placing at the head of their party in

Massachusetts, a man of correct morals and manners, and of a reputed

religious cast of mind. But Mr. Strong should reflect; and being a

phlegmatic man, he is able to reflect calmly, and consider things

deliberately. He should reflect, I say, on the impression his

remarkable conduct must have on the minds of his countrymen, who have

risked their lives, and are now suffering a severe bondage in that

great national cause of "FREE TRADE AND NO IMPRESSMENT," which led the

American people to declare war against Britain, by the voice of their

representatives, in congress assembled. How strange, and how painful

must it appear to us, and to our friends in Europe, that the governor

of a great state should lean more towards the Prince Regent of

Britain, than to the _President_ of the _United Stales_! If,

therefore, we consider Mr. Strong as a sensible and correct man, and a

true patriot, his conduct as _governor of Massachusetts_, especially

as to _the time_ of organizing a convention, of which the English

promised themselves countenance and aid, must have appeared more than

strange to us in captivity.

A journal, of a young man of Massachusetts, late a surgeon on board an American privateer, who was captured at sea by the British in May, eighteen hundred and thirteen and was confined first, at Melville Island, Halifax, then at Chatham, in England, and last at Dartmoor prison · 第 8 / 10 章

After these poor fellows had received money and clothing from our