RECOLLECTIONS OF ANDREW SHERBURNE
Andrew Sherburne, a lad of seventeen, shipped on the Scorpion, Captain
R. Salter, a small vessel, with a crew of eighteen men. This vessel was
captured by the Amphion, about the middle of November, 1782. Sherburne
says that the sailors plundered them of everything they possessed, and
that thirteen of them were put on board the Amphion, and sent down to
the cable tiers between the two decks, where they found nearly a hundred
of their countrymen, who were prisoners of war.
“We were very much crowded, and having nothing but the cables to lay on,
our beds were as hard and unpleasant as though they were made of cord
wood, and indeed we had not sufficient room for each to stretch himself
at the same time.
“After about two weeks we arrived at New York, and were put on board
that wretched ship the Jersey. The New York prison ships had been the
terror of American tars for years. The Old Jersey had become notorious
in consequence of the unparallelled mortality on board her. * * *
“I entered the Jersey towards the last of November, I had just entered
the eighteenth year of my age, and had now to commence a scene of
suffering almost without a parallel. * * * A large proportion of the
prisoners had been robbed of their clothing. * * * Early in the winter
the British took the Chesapeake frigate of about thirty guns, and 300
hands. All were sent on board the Jersey, which so overcrowded her,
that she was very sickly. This crew died exceedingly fast, for a large
proportion were fresh hands, unused to the sea.”
Sherburne says that boats from the city brought provisions to sell to
such of the prisoners as were so fortunate as to be possessed of money,
and that most of them were able to make purchases from them. A piece of
sausage from seven to nine inches long sold for sixpence.
In January, 1783, Sherburne became ill and was sent to the Frederick,
a hospital ship. In this two men shared every bunk, and the conditions
were wretchedly unsanitary. He was placed in a bunk with a man named
Wills from Massachusetts, a very gentle and patient sufferer, who soon
died.
“I have seen seven men drawn out and piled together on the lower
hatchway, who had died in one night on board the Frederick.
“There were ten or twelve nurses, and about a hundred sick. Some, if not
all of the nurses, were prisoners. * * * They would indulge in playing
cards and drinking, while their fellows were thirsting for water and
some dying. At night the hatches were shut down and locked, and the
nurses lived in the steerage, and there was not the least attention paid
to the sick except by the convalescent, who were so frequently called
upon that, in many cases, they overdid themselves, relapsed, and died.”
Sherburne suffered extremely from the cold. “I have often,” he says
“toiled the greatest part of the night, in rubbing my feet and legs to
keep them from freezing. * * * In consequence of these chills I have
been obliged to wear a laced stocking upon my left leg for nearly thirty
years past. My bunk was directly against the ballast-port; and the port
not being caulked, when there came a snow-storm the snow would blow
through the seams in my bed, but in those cases there was one advantage
to me, when I could not otherwise procure water to quench my thirst.
The provision allowed the sick was a gill of wine, and twelve ounces of
bread per day. The wine was of an ordinary quality, and the bread made
of sour or musty flour, and sometimes poorly baked. There was a small
sheet iron stove between decks, but the fuel was green, and not plenty,
and there were some peevish and surly fellows generally about it. I
never got an opportunity to sit by it, but I could generally get the
favor of some one near it to lay a slice of bread upon it, to warm or
toast it a little, to put into my wine and water. We sometimes failed
in getting our wine for several days together; we had the promise of its
being made up to us, but this promise was seldom performed. * * * Water
was brought on board in casks by the working party, and when it was very
cold it would freeze in the casks, and it would be difficult to get it
out. * * * I was frequently under the necessity of pleading hard to
get my cup filled. I could not eat my bread, but gave it to those who
brought me water. I have given three days allowance to have a tin cup
of water brought me. * * * A company of the good citizens of New York
supplied all the sick with a pint of good Bohea tea, well sweetened with
molasses a day; and this was constant. I believe this tea saved my life,
and the lives of hundreds of others. * * * The physicians used to
visit the sick once in several days: their stay was short, nor did they
administer much medicine. Were I able to give a full description of our
wretched and filthy condition I should almost question whether it would
be credited. * * * It was God’s good pleasure to raise me up once more
so that I could just make out to walk, and I was again returned to the
Jersey prison ship.”
Here he received sad news. One of his uncles was a prisoner on board the
Jersey, and had been very kind to him, giving him a share of his money
with which to purchase necessaries. Now he found his uncle about to
take his place in the hospital ship. A boy named Stephen Nichols also
informed him of the death in his absence of the gunner of their ship,
whose name was Daniel Davis. This poor man had his feet and legs frozen,
from which he died.
“Nichols and myself were quite attached to each other. * * * We stalked
about the decks together, lamenting our forlorn condition. In a few days
there came orders to remove all the prisoners from the Jersey in
order to cleanse the ship. We were removed on board of transports,
and directly there came on a heavy storm. The ship on which I was was
exceedingly crowded, so that there was not room enough for each man to
lay down under deck, and the passing and repassing by day had made the
lower deck entirely wet. Our condition was distressing. After a few
days we were all put on board the Jersey again. A large number had
taken violent colds, myself among the rest. The hospital ships were soon
crowded, and even the Jersey herself shortly became about as much of a
hospital ship as the others.”
Sherburne was again sent to a hospital ship, where he was rejoiced to
find his uncle convalescing. A man who lay next him had been a nurse,
but had had his feet and legs frozen, the toes and bottom of his feet
fell off.
Two brothers shared a bunk near him. Their names were John and Abraham
Falls. John was twenty-three, and Abraham only sixteen. Both were very
sick. One night Abraham was heard imploring John not to lie on him, and
the other invalids reproached him for his cruelty in thus treating his
young brother. But John was deaf to their reproaches, for he was dead.
Abraham was too ill to move from under him. Next day the dead brother
was removed from the living one, but it was too late to save him, and
the poor boy died that morning.
Sherburne says that only five of his crew of thirteen survived, and that
in many instances a much larger proportion died.
“At length came news of peace. It was exceedingly trying to our feelings
to see our ship mates daily leaving us, until our ship was almost
deserted. We were, however, convalescent, but we gained exceedingly
slowly. * * * I think there were but seven or eight left on board the
hospital ship when we left it, in a small schooner sent from R. I.,
for the purpose of taking home some who belonged to that place, and the
commander of the hospital ship had the humanity to use his influence
with the master of the cartel to take us on board, and to our
unspeakable joy he consented.”
When at last he reached home he says: “My brother Sam took me into
another room to divest me of my filthy garments and to wash and dress
me. He having taken off my clothes and seen my bones projecting here and
there, was so astonished that his strength left him. He sat down on the
point of fainting, and could render me no further service. I was able to
wash myself and put on my clothes.”
After this he was obliged to spend twenty days in bed. Poor Mrs. Falls,
the mother of the two young men who had died on the hospital ship,
called on him and heard the fate of her sons. She was in an agony, and
almost fainted, and kept asking if it was not a mistake that _both_ were
dead.