THE EXPERIENCE OF EBENEZER FOX (CONTINUED)
The miseries of our condition were continually increasing. The
pestilence on board spread rapidly; and every day added to our bill of
mortality. The young were its most frequent victims. The number of the
prisoners was constantly augmenting, notwithstanding the frequent and
successful attempts to escape. When we were mustered and called upon to
answer to our names, and it was ascertained that nearly two hundred
had mysteriously disappeared, without leaving any information of their
departure, the officers of the ship endeavored to make amends for
their past remissness by increasing the rigor of our confinement, and
depriving us of all hope of adopting any of the means for liberating
ourselves from our cruel thralldom, so successfully practiced by many of
our comrades.
“With the hope that some relief might be obtained to meliorate the
wretchedness of our situation, the prisoners petitioned General Clinton,
commanding the British forces in New York, for permission to send a
memorial to General Washington, describing our condition, and requesting
his influence in our behalf, that some exchange of prisoners might be
effected.
“Permission was obtained, and the memorial was sent. * * * General
Washington wrote to Congress, and also to the British Commissary of
Naval prisoners, remonstrating with him, deprecating the cruel treatment
of the Americans, and threatening retaliation.
“The long detention of American sailors on board of British prison-ships
was to be attributed to the little pains taken by our countrymen to
retain British subjects who were taken prisoner on the ocean during the
war. Our privateers captured many British seamen, who, when willing to
enlist in our service, as was generally the case, were received on board
of our ships. Those who were brought into port were suffered to go at
large; for in the impoverished condition of the country, no state
or town was willing to subject itself to the expence of maintaining
prisoners in a state of confinement; they were permitted to provide for
themselves. In this way the number of British seamen was too small for
a regular and equal exchange. Thus the British seamen, after their
capture, enjoyed the blessings of liberty, the light of the sun, and the
purity of the atmosphere, while the poor American sailors were compelled
to drag out a miserable existence amid want and distress, famine and
pestilence. As every principle of justice and humanity was disregarded
by the British in their treatment of the prisoners, so likewise was
every moral and legal right violated in compelling them to enter into
their service.
“We had obtained some information in relation to an expected draught
that would soon be made upon the prisoners to fill up a complement of
men that were wanted for the service of his Majesty’s fleet.
“One day in the last part of August our fears for the dreaded event were
realized. A British officer with a number of soldiers came on board. The
prisoners were all ordered on deck, placed on the larboard gangway, and
marched in single file round to the quarter-deck, where the officers
stood to inspect them, and select such ones as suited their fancies
without any reference to the rights of the prisoners. * * * We continued
to march round in solemn and melancholy processsion, till they had
selected from among our number about three hundred of the ablest, nearly
all of whom were Americans, and they were directed to go below under a
guard, to collect together whatever things they wished to take belonging
to them. They were then driven into the boats, waiting alongside, and
left the prison ship, not to enjoy their freedom, but to be subjected
to the iron despotism, and galling slavery of a British man-of-war; to
waste their lives in a foreign service; and toil for masters whom they
hated. Such, however, were the horrors of our situation as prisoners,
and so small was the prospect of relief, that we almost envied the lot
of those who left the ship to go into the service of the enemy.
“That the reader may not think I have given an exaggerated account of
our sufferings on board the Jersey, I will here introduce some facts
related in the histories of the Revolutionary War. I introduce them as
an apology for the course that I and many of my fellow citizens adopted
to obtain temporary relief from our sufferings.
“The prisoners captured by Sir William Howe in 1776 amounted to several
thousands. * * * The privates were confined in prisons, deserted
churches, and other large open buildings, entirely unfit for the
habitations of human beings, in severe winter weather, without any of
the most ordinary comforts of life.
“To the indelible and everlasting disgrace of the British name, these
unfortunate victims of a barbarity more befitting savages than gentlemen
belonging to a nation boasting itself to be the most enlightened and
civilized of the world,--many hundreds of them, perished from want of
proper food and attention.
“The cruelty of their inhuman jailors was not terminated by the death
of these wretched men, as so little care was taken to remove the corpses
that seven dead bodies have been seen at one time lying in one of
the buildings in the midst of their living fellow-prisoners, who were
perhaps envying them their release from misery. Their food * * * was
generally that which was rejected by the British ships as unfit to be
eaten by the sailors, and unwholesome in the highest degree, as well as
disgusting in taste and appearance.
“In December, 1776, the American board of war, after procuring such
evidence as convinced them of the truth of their statements, reported
that: ‘There were 900 privates and 300 officers of the American army,
prisoners in the city of New York, and 500 privates and 50 officers in
Philadelphia. That since the beginning of October, all these officers
and privates had been confined in prisons or in the provost. That, from
the best evidence the subject could admit of, the general allowance of
the prisoners did not exceed four ounces of meat a day, and that often
so damaged as to be uneatable. That it had been a common practice of the
British to keep their prisoners four or five days without a morsel of
meat and thus tempt them to enlist to save their lives.’
“Many were actually starved to death, in hope of making them enroll
themselves in the British army. The American sailors when captured
suffered even more than the soldiers, for they were confined on board
prison ships in great numbers, and in a manner which showed that the
British officers were willing to treat fellow beings, whose only crime
was love of liberty, worse than the vilest animals; and indeed in every
respect, with as much cruelty as is endured by the miserable inhabitants
of the worst class of slave ships. * * * In the course of the war it has
been asserted on good evidence, that 11,000 prisoners died on board the
Jersey. * * * These unfortunate beings died in agony in the midst of
their fellow sufferers, who were obliged to witness their tortures,
without the power of relieving their dying countrymen, even by cooling
their parched lips with a drop of cold water, or a breath of fresh air;
and, when the last breath had left the emaciated body, they sometimes
remained for hours in close contact with the corpse, without room to
shrink from companions that Death had made so horrible, and when at
last the dead were removed, they were sent in boats to the shore, and
so imperfectly buried that long after the war was ended, their bones lay
whitening in the sun on the beach of Long Island, a lasting memorial of
British cruelty, so entirely unwarranted by all the laws of war or even
common humanity.
“They could not even pretend that they were retaliating, for the
Americans invariably treated their prisoners with kindness, and as
though they were fellow men. All the time that these cruelties were
performed those who were deprived of every comfort and necessary were
constantly entreated to leave the American service, and induced to
believe, while kept from all knowledge of public affairs, that the
republican cause was hopeless; that all engaged in it would meet the
punishment of traitors to the king, and that all their prospect of
saving their lives, or escaping from an imprisonment worse than death to
young and high-spirited men, as most of them were, would be in joining
the British army, where they would be sure of good pay and quick
promotion.
“These were the means employed by our enemies to increase their own
forces, and discourage the patriots, and it is not strange they were
successful in many instances. High sentiments of honor could not well
exist in the poor, half-famished prisoners, who were denied even water
to quench their thirst, or the privilege of breathing fresh, pure air,
and cramped, day after day, in a space too small to admit of exercising
their weary limbs, with the fear of wasting their lives in a captivity,
which could not serve their country, nor gain honor to themselves.
“But worse than all was the mortifying consideration that, after they
had suffered for the love of their country, more than sailors in active
service, they might die in these horrible places, and be laid with their
countrymen on the shores of Long Island, or some equally exposed spot,
without the rites of burial, and their names never be heard of by those
who, in future ages, would look back to the roll of patriots, who
died in defence of liberty, with admiration and respect, while, on the
contrary, by dissembling for a time, they might be able to regain a
place in the service so dear to them, and in which they were ready to
endure any hardship or encounter any danger.
“Of all the prisons, on land or water, for the confinement of the
Americans, during the Revolutionary War, the Old Jersey was acknowledged
to be the worst; such an accumulation of horrors was not to be found in
any other one, or perhaps in all collectively.
“The very name of it struck terror into the sailor’s heart, and caused
him to fight more desperately, to avoid being made a captive. Suffering
as we did, day after day, with no prospect of relief, our numbers
continually augmenting, * * * can it be thought strange that the younger
part of the prisoners, to whom confinement seemed worse than death,
should be tempted to enlist into the British service; especially when,
by so doing, it was probable that some opportunity would be offered
to desert? We were satisfied that death would soon put an end to our
sufferings if we remained prisoners much longer, yet when we discussed
the expediency of seeking a change in our condition, which we were
satisfied could not be worse under any circumstances, and it was
proposed that we should enter the service of King George, our minds
revolted at the idea, and we abandoned the intention.
“In the midst of our distresses, perplexities, and troubles of this
period, we were not a little puzzled to know how to dispose of the
vermin that would accumulate upon our persons, notwithstanding all our
attempts at cleanliness. To catch them was a very easy task, but to
undertake to deprive each individual captive of life, as rapidly as they
could have been taken, would have been a more herculean task for each
individual daily, than the destruction of 3000 Philistines by Sampson of
old. To throw them overboard would have been but a small relief, as they
would probably add to the impurities of the boiler, by being deposited
in it the first time it was filled up for cooking our unsavory mess.
What then was to be done with them? A general consultation was held, and
it was determined to deprive them of their liberty. This being agreed
upon, the prisoners immediately went to work, for their comfort and
amusement, to make a liberal contribution of those migratory creatures,
who were compelled to colonize for a time within the boundaries of a
large snuff box appropriated for the purpose. There they lay, snugly
ensconced, of all colors, ages, and sizes, to the amount of some
hundreds, waiting for orders.
“British recruiting officers frequently came on board, and held out to
the prisoners tempting offers to enlist in his Majesty’s service; not
to fight against their own country, but to perform garrison duty in the
island of Jamaica.
“One day an Irish officer came on board for this purpose, and not
meeting with much success among the prisoners who happened to be on
deck, he descended below to repeat his offers. He was a remarkably tall
man, and was obliged to stoop as he passed along between decks. The
prisoners were disposed for a frolic, and kept the officer in their
company for some time, flattering him with expectations, till he
discovered their insincerity, and left them in no very pleasant humor.
As he passed along, bending his body and bringing his broad shoulders to
nearly a horizontal position, the idea occurred to our minds to furnish
him with some recruits from the colony in the snuff box. A favorable
opportunity presented, the cover of the box was removed, and the whole
contents discharged upon the red-coated back of the officer. Three
cheers from the prisoners followed the migration, and the officer
ascended to the deck, unconscious of the number and variety of the
recruits he had obtained without the formality of an enlistment. The
captain of the ship, suspecting that some joke had been practised, or
some mischief perpetrated, from the noise below, met the officer at the
head of the gangway, and seeing the vermin crawling up his shoulders,
and aiming at his head, with the instinct peculiar to them, exclaimed,
‘Hoot mon! what’s the maitter wi’ your back!’ * * * By this time many of
them in their wanderings, had travelled from the rear to the front, and
showed themselves, to the astonishment of the officer. He flung off his
coat, in a paroxysm of rage, which was not allayed by three cheers from
the prisoners on deck. Confinement below, with a short allowance, was
our punishment for this gratification.
“From some information we had obtained we were in daily expectation of a
visit from the British recruiting officers, and from the summary method
of their procedure, no one felt safe from the danger of being forced
into their service. Many of the prisoners thought it would be better
to enlist voluntarily, as it was probable that afterwards they would be
permitted to remain on Long Island, preparatory to their departure to
the West Indies, and during that time some opportunity would be offered
for their escape to the Jersey shore. * * * Soon after we had formed
this desperate resolve a recruiting officer came on board to enlist
men for the 88th Regiment to be stationed at Kingston, in the island
of Jamaica. * * * The recruiting officer presented his papers for our
signature. We hesitated, we stared at each other, and felt we were about
to do a deed of which we were ashamed, and which we might regret. Again
we heard the tempting offers, and again the assurance that we should not
be called upon to fight against our government or country, and with the
hope that we should find an opportunity to desert, of which it was
our firm intention to avail ourselves when offered,--with such hopes,
expectations, and motives, we signed the papers, and became soldiers in
his Majesty’s service,
“How often did we afterwards lament that we had ever lived to see this
hour? How often did we regret that we were not in our wretched prison
ship again, or buried in the sand at the Wallabout!”
There were twelve of the prisoners who left the Jersey with Ebenezer
Fox. They were at first taken to Long Island and lodged in barns, but
so vigilantly were they guarded that they found it impossible to escape.
They were all sent to Kingston, and Fox was allowed to resume his
occupation as a barber, much patronized by the officers stationed at
that post. He was soon allowed the freedom of the city, and furnished
with a pass to go about it as much as he wished. At last, in company
with four other Americans, he escaped, and after many adventures the
party succeeded in reaching Cuba, by means of a small sailing boat which
they pressed into service for that purpose. From Cuba they took passage
in a small vessel for St. Domingo, and dropped anchor at Cape Francois,
afterwards called Cape Henri. There they went on board the American
frigate, Flora, of 32 guns, commanded by Captain Henry Johnson, of
Boston.
The vessel soon sailed for France and took several prizes. It finally
went up the Garonne to Bordeaux, where it remained nine months. In the
harbor of Bordeaux were about six hundred vessels bearing the flags of
various nations. Here they remained until peace was proclaimed, when Fox
procured service on board an American brig lying at Nantes, and set sail
for home in April, 1783.
At length he again reached his mother’s house at Roxbury, after an
absence of about three years. His mother, at first, did not recognize
him. She entertained him as a stranger, until he made himself known, and
then her joy was great, for she had long mourned him as lost.