MORE ABOUT THE ENGLISH PRISONS--MEMOIR OF ELI BICKFORD--CAPTAIN FANNING
Eli Bickford, who was born on the 29th of September, 1754, in the town
of Durham, N. H., and enlisted on a privateer, was taken prisoner by
the British, confined at first on the Old Jersey, and afterwards sent
to England with many others, in a vessel commanded by Captain Smallcorn,
whom he called “a sample of the smallest corn he had ever met.” While
on board this vessel he was taken down with the smallpox. No beds or
bedding were provided for the prisoners and a plank on deck was his only
pillow. He and his fellow sufferers were treated with great severity,
and insulted at every turn. When they reached England they were sent to
prison, where he remained in close confinement for four years and six
months.
Finding a piece of a door hinge, he and some of the others endeavored
to make their escape by digging a passage under the walls. A report of
their proceedings reached the jailer, but, secure in the strength of
the walls he did not believe it. This jailor would frequently jest with
Bickford on the subject, asking him when he intended to make his escape.
His answers were so truthful and accurate that they served to blind the
jailor still further. One morning as this official entered the prison he
said: “Well, Bickford, how soon will you be ready to go out?”
“Tomorrow night!” answered Bickford.
“O, that’s only some of your nonsense,” he replied.
However, it was true.
After digging a passage for some days underground, the prisoners found
themselves under an adjoining house. They proceeded to take up the brick
floor, unlocked the door and passed out, without disturbing the inmates,
who were all asleep. Unable to escape they concealed themselves for
awhile, and then tamely gave themselves up. Such a vigilant watch was
kept upon the house after they were missed from the prison, that they
had no other choice. So they made a contract with a man who was to
return them to the prison, and then give them half of the reward of
forty shillings which was offered for their re-capture. So successful
was this expedient that it was often put into operation when they needed
money.
As a punishment for endeavoring to escape they were confined in the
Black Hole for a week on bread and water.
Bickford describes the prison regulations for preserving order which
were made and carried out by the prisoners themselves. If a difficulty
arose between two of them it was settled in the following manner. The
prisoners formed a circle in the centre of which the disputants took
their stand, and exchanged a few rounds of well-directed blows, after
which they shook hands, and were better friends than before.
Bickford was not released until peace was declared. He then returned to
his family, who had long thought him dead. It was on Sunday morning
that he reached his native town. As he passed the meeting house he was
recognized, and the whole congregation ran out to see and greet him.
He had but seven dollars as his whole capital when he married. He moved
to Vermont, where he farmed a small place, and succeeded in making a
comfortable livelihood. He attained the great age of 101, and was one of
the last surviving prisoners of the Revolution.
THE ADVENTURES OF A NAVAL OFFICER
In the year 1806 a little book with this title was published in New
York, by Captain Nathaniel Fanning. It was dedicated to John Jackson,
Esquire, the man who did so much to interest the public in the
preservation and interment of the remains of the martyrs of the
prisonships in the Wallabout.
Fanning was born in Connecticut, in the year 1755. On the 26th of May,
1778, he went on board the brig Angelica, commanded by Captain William
Dennis, which was about to sail on a six months cruise. There were 98
men and boys in the crew, and Fanning was prize-master on board the
privateer. She was captured by the Andromeda, a frigate of 28 guns, five
days from Philadelphia, with General Howe on board on his way back to
England.
All the prisoners were paraded on deck and asked if they were willing
to engage in his British Majesty’s service. Nearly all answered in the
negative. They were then told that they were “a set of rebels,” and that
it was more than probable that they would all be hung at Portsmouth.
Their baggage was then taken away, and they were confined in the hold
of the ship. Their clothes were stolen by the sailors, and a frock and
cheap trousers dealt out to each man in their place.
The heat was intolerable in the hold, although they went naked. In this
condition they plotted to seize the vessel, and procured some weapons
through the agency of their surgeon. Spencer, the captain’s clerk,
betrayed them to the captain of the Andromeda, and, after that, the
hatches were barred down, and they began to think that they would all
die of suffocation. The sentence pronounced upon them was that they
should be allowed only half a pint of water a day for each man, and
barely food enough to sustain life.
Their condition would have been terrible, but, fortunately for them,
they were lodged upon the water casks, over which was constructed a
temporary deck. By boring holes in the planks they managed, by means of
a proof glass, to obtain all the water they needed.
Between them and the general’s store room was nothing but a partition of
plank. They went to work to make an aperture through which a man could
pass into this store room. A young man named Howard from Rhode Island
was their instigator in all these operations. They discovered that one
of the shifting boards abaft the pump room was loose, and that they
could ship and unship it as they pleased. When it was unshipped there
was just room for a man to crawl into the store room. “Howard first went
in,” writes Captain Fanning, “and presently desired me to hand him a
mug or can with a proof glass. A few minutes after he handed me back the
same full, saying ‘My friends, as good Madeira wine as ever was drank at
the table of an Emperor!’
“I took it from his hands and drank about half a pint.
“Thus we lived like hearty fellows, taking care every night to secure
provisions, dried fruit, and wines for the day following * * * and all
without our enemies’ knowledge.”
Scurvy broke out among the crew, and some of the British sailors died,
but the Americans were all “brave and hearty.”
“The Captain would say, ‘What! are none of them damned Yankees sick?
Damn them, there’s nothing but thunder and lightning will kill ‘em.’”
On the thirtieth of June the vessel arrived at Portsmouth. The prisoners
were sent to Hazel hospital, to be examined by the Commissioners of the
Admiralty, and then marched to Forton prison, where they were committed
under the charges of piracy and high treason. This prison was about two
miles from Portsmouth harbor, and consisted of two commodious buildings,
with a yard between them large enough to parade a guard of 100 men,
which was the number required to maintain law and order at the station.
They also had a spacious lot of about three quarters of an acre in
extent, adjoining the houses, in which they took their daily exercise.
In the middle of this lot was a shed with seats. It was open on all
sides. The lot was surrounded by a wall of iron pickets, eight feet in
height. The agent for American prisoners was nicknamed by them “the old
crab.” He was very old and ugly.
Only three-fourths of the usual allowance to prisoners of war was dealt
out to them, and they seem to have fared much worse than the inmates of
the Old Mill Prison at Plymouth.
Captain Fanning declares that they were half starved, and would
sometimes beg bones from the people who came to look at them. When they
obtained bones they would dig out the marrow, and devour it. The guard
was cruel and spiteful. One day they heated some pokers red hot and
began to burn the prisoners’ shirts that were hung up to dry. These men
begged the guard, in a very civil manner, not to burn all their shirts,
as they had only one apiece. This remonstrance producing no effect they
then ran to the pickets and snatched away their shirts. At this the
officer on command ordered a sentinel to fire on them. This he did,
killing one prisoner, and wounding several. There were three hundred
American prisoners in the yard at this time.
These prisons appear to have been very imperfectly guarded, and the
regular occupation of the captives, whenever their guards were asleep
or absent, was to make excavations for the purpose of escaping. A
great many regained their freedom in this manner, though some were
occasionally brought back and punished by being shut up for forty days
in the Black Hole on bread and water. Some, less fortunate, remained
three or four years in the prison.
There was always digging going on in some part of the prison and as soon
as one hole was discovered and plastered up, another would be begun.
For a long time they concealed the dirt that they took out of these
excavations in an old stack of disused chimneys. The hours for
performing the work were between eleven and three o’clock at night.
Early in the morning they ceased from their labors, concealing the hole
they had made by pasting white paper over it.
There was a school kept constantly in the prison, where many of them had
the first opportunity that had ever been granted them of receiving an
education. Many learned to read and write, and became proficient in
French.
At one time there were 367 officers confined in this place. In the
course of twelve months 138 of them escaped and got safely to France.
While some of the men were digging at night, others would be dancing
to drown the noise. They had several violins, and seem to have been a
reckless and jovial set.
The officers bunked on the second floor over the guard room of the
English officers. At times they would make so much noise that the guard
would rush up the stairs, only to find all lights out and every man
_asleep and snoring_ in his hammock. They would relieve their feelings
by a volley of abusive language and go down stairs again, when instantly
the whole company would be on their feet, the violins would strike up,
and the fun be more fast and furious than ever. These rushes of the
guard would sometimes be repeated several times a night, when they would
always find the prisoners in their hammocks. Each hammock had what was
called a “king’s rug,” a straw bed, and pillow.
At one time several men were suddenly taken sick, with strong symptoms
of poison. They were removed to the hospital, and for a time, there was
great alarm. The prisoners feared that “the same game was playing here
as had been done on the Old Jersey, where we had heard that thousands of
our countrymen had died.” The poison employed in this instance was glass
pounded fine and cooked with their bread.
An English clergyman named Wren sympathized strongly with the prisoners
and assisted them to escape. He lived at Gosport, and if any of the
captives were so fortunate as to dig themselves out and succeed in
reaching his house, they were safe. This good man begged money and food
for “his children,” as he called them.
On the second of June, 1779, 120 of them were exchanged. There were then
600 confined in that prison. On the 6th of June they sailed for Nantes
in France. The French treated them with great kindness, made up a purse
for them, and gave them decent clothing.
Fanning next went to L’Orient, and there met John Paul Jones, who
invited him to go on board the Bon Homme Richard as a midshipman. They
sailed on the 14th of August on the memorable expedition to the British
Channel.
After being with Jones for some time Fanning, on the 23rd of March,
1781, sailed for home in a privateer from Morlaix, France. This
privateer was captured by the English frigate, Aurora.
“Captain Anthon and myself and crew,” writes Mr. Fanning, “were all
ordered to a prison at about two miles from Falmouth. The very dirtiest
and most loathsome building I ever saw. Swarms of lice, remarkably fat
and full grown; bed bugs, and fleas. I believe the former were of Dutch
extraction, as there were confined here a number of Dutch prisoners of
war, and such a company of dirty fellows I never saw before or since.”
Yet these same poor fellows ceded to Captain Anthon and Mr. Fanning a
corner of the prison for their private use. This they managed to get
thoroughly cleansed, screened themselves off with some sheets, provided
themselves with large swinging cots, and were tolerably comfortable.
They were paroled and allowed full liberty within bounds, which were a
mile and a half from the prison. In about six weeks Fanning was again
exchanged, and went to Cherbourg in France, where he met Captain Manly,
who had just escaped from the Mill prison after three years confinment.