THE PRISONS OF NEW YORK--JONATHAN GILLETT
We will now endeavor to describe the principal places of confinement
used by the British in New York during the early years of the war.
Lossing, in his Field Book of the Revolution, thus speaks of these dens
of misery: “At the fight around Fort Washington,” he says, “only one
hundred Americans were killed, while the British loss was one thousand,
chiefly Hessians, But the British took a most cruel revenge. Out of over
2600 prisoners taken on that day, in two months & four days 1900 were
killed in the infamous sugar houses and other prisons in the city.
“Association of intense horror are linked with the records of the
prisons and prison ships of New York. Thousands of captives perished
miserably of hunger, cold, infection, and in some cases, actual poison.
“All the prisoners taken in the battle near Brooklyn in August, 1776 and
at Fort Washington in November of the same year, were confined in New
York, nearly 4000 in all. The New Jail and the New Bridewell were the
only prisons. The former is the present Hall of Records. Three sugar
houses, some dissenting churches, Columbia College, and the Hospital
were all used as prisons. The great fire in September; the scarcity of
provisions; and the cruel conduct of the Provost Marshal all combined
to produce intense sufferings among the men, most of whom entered
into captivity, strong, healthy, young, able-bodied, the flower of the
American youth of the day.
“Van Cortlandt’s Sugar House was a famous (or infamous) prison. It stood
on the northwest corner of Trinity church-yard.
“Rhinelander’s Sugar House was on the corner of William and Duane
Streets. Perhaps the worst of all the New York prisons was the third
Sugar House, which occupied the space on Liberty Street where two
buildings, numbers 34 and 36, now stand.
“The North Dutch Church on William Street contained 800 prisoners, and
there were perhaps as many in the Middle Dutch Church. The Friends’
Meeting House on Liberty and several other buildings erected for the
worship of a God of love were used as prisons.
“The New Jail was made a Provost Prison, and here officers and men of
note were confined. At one time they were so crowded into this building,
that when they lay down upon the floor to sleep all in the row were
obliged to turn over at the same time at the call, ‘Turn over! Left!
Right!’
“The sufferings of these brave men were largely due to the criminal
indifference of Loring, Sproat, Lennox, and other Commissaries of the
prisoners.
“Many of the captives were hanged in the gloom of night without trial
and without a semblance of justice.
“Liberty Street Sugar House was a tall, narrow building five stories in
height, and with dismal underground dungeons. In this gloomy abode jail
fever was ever present. In the hot weather of July, 1777, companies of
twenty at a time would be sent out for half an hour’s outing, in the
court yard. Inside groups of six stood for ten minutes at a time at the
windows for a breath of air.
“There were no seats; the filthy straw bedding was never changed. Every
day at least a dozen corpses were dragged out and pitched like dead
dogs into the ditches and morasses beyond the city. Escapes, deaths, and
exchange at last thinned the ranks. Hundreds left names and records on
the walls.”
“In 1778 the hulks of decaying ships were moored in the Wallabout. These
prison ships were intended for sailors and seaman taken on the ocean,
mostly the crews of privateersmen, but some soldiers were also sent to
languish in their holds.
“The first vessels used were transports in which cattle and other stores
had been brought over by the British in 1776. These lay in Gravesend Bay
and there many of the prisoners taken in battle near Brooklyn in August,
1776, were confined, until the British took possession of New York, when
they were moved to that city. In 1778 the hulks of ships were moored in
the Wallabout, a sheltered bay on the Long Island shore, where the Navy
Yard now is.”
The sufferings of the prisoners can be better understood by giving
individual instances, and wherever this is possible it shall be done. We
will commence by an abstract of
THE CASE OF JONATHAN GILLETT OF WEST HARFORD
This man with seven others was captured on Long Island on the 27th of
August, 1776, before they could take to their boats. He was at first
confined in a prison ship, but a Masonic brother named John Archer
procured him the liberty of the city on parole. His rank, we believe,
was that of a lieutenant. He was a prisoner two years, then was allowed
to go home to die. He exhibited every symptom of poison as well as
starvation.
When he was dying he said to his son, Jonathan Gillett, Junior, “Should
you enlist and be taken prisoner as I was, inquire for Mr. John Archer,
a man with whom I boarded. He will assist you.”
In course of time his son enlisted, was taken prisoner, and confined
in the Old Sugar House on Liberty Street. Here he was nearly starved to
death. The prisoners ate mice, rats, and insects. He one day found
in the prison yard the dry parings of a turnip which seemed to him
a delicious banquet. It is recorded that Jonathan Gillett, Jr., was
finally freed from captivity through the efforts of the same gentleman,
Mr. John Archer, who had aided his father.
In 1852 Jacob Barker offered to present survivors who had been confined
in the Old Sugar House with canes made from the lumber used in its
construction. Four of these survivors were found. Their names were
William Clark, Samuel Moulton, Levi Hanford, and Jonathan Gillett, Jr.
The latter’s father during his confinement wrote a letter to his friends
which has been preserved, and is as follows:
My Friends,
No doubt my misfortunes have reached your ears. Sad as it is, it is
true as sad. I was made prisoner the 27th day of August past by a people
called heshens, and by a party called Yagers the most Inhuman of all
Mortals. I can’t give Room to picture them here but thus much--I at
first Resolved not to be taken, but by the Impertunity of the Seven
taken with me, and being surrounded on all sides I unhapily surendered;
would to God I never had--then I should never (have) known there
unmerciful cruelties; they first disarmed me, then plundered me of all I
had, watch, Buckles, money, and sum Clothing, after which they abused
me by bruising my flesh with the butts of there (guns). They knocked me
down; I got up and they (kept on) beating me almost all the way to
there (camp) where I got shot of them--the next thing was I was allmost
starved to death by them. I was keept here 8 days and then sent on board
a ship, where I continued 39 days and by (them was treated) much worse
than when on shore--after I was set on (shore) at New York (I was)
confined (under) a strong guard till the 20th day of November, after
which I have had my liberty to walk part over the City between sun and
sun, notwithstanding there generous allowance of food I must inevitably
have perished with hunger had not sum friends in this (city) Relieved my
extreme necessity, but I cant expect they can always do it--what I
shall do next I know not, being naked for clothes and void of money, and
winter present, and provisions very skerce; fresh meat one shilling per
pound, Butter three shillings per pound, Cheese two shillings, Turnips
and potatoes at a shilling a half peck, milk 15 Coppers per quart, bread
equally as dear; and the General says he cant find us fuel thro’ the
winter, tho’ at present we receive sum cole. [Footnote: I have made no
changes in this letter except to fill up some blanks and to add a few
marks of punctuation.]
“I was after put on board siezed violently with the disentarry--it
followed me hard upwards of six weeks--after that a slow fever, but now
am vastly better * * * my sincere love to you and my children. May God
keep and preserve you at all times from sin, sickness, and death * * *
I will Endeavor to faintly lead you into the poor cituation the soldiers
are in, espechally those taken at Long Island where I was; in fact these
cases are deplorable and they are Real objects of pitty--they are still
confined and in houses where there is no fire--poor mortals, with little
or no clothes--perishing with hunger, offering eight dollars in paper
for one in silver to Relieve there distressing hunger; occasioned for
want of food--there natures are broke and gone, some almost loose there
voices and some there hearing--they are crouded into churches & there
guarded night and day. I cant paint the horable appearance they make--it
is shocking to human nature to behold them. Could I draw the curtain
from before you; there expose to your view a lean Jawd mortal, hunger
laid his skinny hand (upon him) and whet to keenest Edge his stomach
cravings, sorounded with tattred garments, Rotten Rags, close beset
with unwelcome vermin. Could I do this, I say, possable I might in some
(small) manner fix your idea with what appearance sum hundreds of these
poor creatures make in houses where once people attempted to Implore
God’s Blessings, &c, but I must say no more of there calamities. God be
merciful to them--I cant afford them no Relief. If I had money I soon
would do it, but I have none for myself.--I wrote to you by Mr. Wells to
see if some one would help me to hard money under my present necessity
I write no more, if I had the General would not allow it to go out, & if
ever you write to me write very short or else I will never see it--what
the heshens robbed me of that day amounted to the value of seventy two
dollars at least. * * * I will give you as near an exact account of how
many prisoners the enemy have taken as I can. They took on Long Island
of the Huntingon Regiment 64, and of officers 40, of other Regiments
about 60. On Moulogin Island 14, Stratton Island (Staten) 7, at Fort
Washington 2200 officers and men. On the Jersey side about 28 officers
and men. In all 3135 and how many killed I do not know. Many died of
there wounds. Of those that went out with me of sickness occasioned by
hunger eight and more lie at the point of death.
“Roger Filer hath lost one of his legs and part of a Thigh, it was his
left. John Moody died here a prisoner.
“So now to conclude my little Ragged History * * * I as you know did
ever impress on your mind to look to God, for so still I continue to do
the same--think less of me but more of your Creator, * * * So in this
I wish you well and bid you farewell and subscribe myself your nearest
friend and well wisher for Ever
John’a Gillett
New York, Dec. 2nd, 1776. To Eliza Gillett at West Harford
The figures given in this pathetic letter may be inaccurate, but the
description of the sufferings of the prisoners is unexaggerated. Of all
the places of torment provided for these poor men the churches seem
to have been the worst, and they were probably the scenes of the most
brutal cruelty that was inflicted upon these unfortunate beings by the
wicked and heartless men, in whose power they found themselves. Whether
it was because the knowledge that they were thus desecrating buildings
dedicated to the worship of God and instruction in the Christian duties
of mercy and charity, had a peculiarly hardening effect upon the jailers
and guards employed by the British, or whether it was merely because
of their unfitness for human habitation, the men confined in these
buildings perished fast and miserably. We cannot assert that no
prisoners shut up in the churches in New York lived to tell the awful
tale of their sufferings, but we do assert that in all our researches
we have never yet happened upon any record of a single instance of a
survivor living to reach his home. All the information we have gained
on this subject we shall lay before the reader, and then he may form his
own opinion of the justice of these remarks.