THE EXCHANGE
“Soon after Captain Aborn had been permitted to go to Long Island on
his parole, he sent a message on board the Jersey, informing us that his
parole had been extended so far as to allow him to return home, but that
he should visit us previous to his departure. He requested our First
Lieutenant, Mr. John Tillinghast, to provide a list of the names of
those captured in the Chance who had died, and also a list of the
survivors, noting where each survivor was then confined, whether on
board the Jersey, or one of the Hospital ships.
“He also requested that those of our number who wished to write to their
friends at home, would have their letters ready for delivery to him,
whenever he should come on board. The occupants of the Gun-room, and
such of the other prisoners as could procure the necessary materials
were, therefore, soon busily engaged in writing as particular
descriptions of our situation as they thought it prudent to do, without
the risk of the destruction of the letters; as we were always obliged to
submit our writing for inspection previous to its being allowed to pass
from the ship. We, however, afterwards regretted that on this occasion
our descriptions were not more minute, as these letters were not
examined.
“The next day Captain Aborn came on board, accompanied by several other
persons, who had also been liberated on parole; but they came no nearer
to the prisoners than the head of the gangway-ladder, and passed through
the door of the barricade to the Quarter-deck. This was perhaps a
necessary precaution against the contagion, as they were more liable to
be affected by it than if they had always remained on board; but we were
much disappointed at not having an opportunity to speak to them. Our
letters were delivered to Captain Aborn by our Lieutenant, through whom
he sent us assurances of his determination to do everything in his power
for our relief, and that if a sufficient number of British prisoners
could be procured, every survivor of his vessel’s crew should be
exchanged; and if this could not be effected we might depend upon
receiving clothing and such other necessary articles as could be sent
for our use.
“About this time some of the sick were sent on shore on Blackwell’s
Island. This was considered a great indulgence. I endeavored to obtain
leave to join them by feigning sickness, but did not succeed.
“The removal of the sick was a great relief to us, as the air was less
foul between decks, and we had more room for motion. Some of the bunks
were removed, and the sick were carried on shore as soon as their
condition was known. Still, however, the pestilence did not abate on
board, as the weather was extremely warm. In the daytime the heat was
excessive, but at night it was intolerable.
“But we lived on hope, knowing that, in all probability, our friends at
home had ere then been apprised of our condition, and that some relief
might perhaps be soon afforded us.
“Such was our situation when, one day, a short time before sunset, we
described a sloop approaching us, with a white flag at her mast-head,
and knew, by that signal, that she was a Cartel, and from the direction
in which she came supposed her to be from some of the Eastern States.
She did not approach near enough to satisfy our curiosity, until we were
ordered below for the night.
“Long were the hours of the night to the survivors of our crew. Slight
as was the foundation on which our hopes had been raised, we had clung
to them as our last resource. No sooner were the gratings removed in the
morning than we were all upon deck, gazing at the Cartel. Her deck was
crowded with men, whom we supposed to be British prisoners. In a few
moments they began to enter the Commissary’s boats, and proceeded to New
York.
“In the afternoon a boat from the Cartel came alongside the hulk, having
on board the Commissary of Prisoners, and by his side sat our townsman,
Captain William Corey, who came on board with the joyful information
that the sloop was from Providence with English prisoners to be
exchanged for the crew of the Chance. The number which she had brought
was forty, being more than sufficient to redeem every survivor of our
crew then on board the Jersey.
“I immediately began to prepare for my departure. Having placed the
few articles of clothing which I possessed in a bag (for, by one of
our By-laws, no prisoner, when liberated, could remove his chest) I
proceeded to dispose of my other property on board, and after having
made sundry small donations of less value, I concluded by giving my tin
kettle to one of my friends, and to another the remnant of my cleft of
firewood.
“I then hurried to the upper deck, in order to be ready to answer to my
name, well knowing that I should hear no second call, and that no delay
would be allowed.
“The Commissary and Captain Corey were standing together on the
Quarter-deck; and as the list of names was read, our Lieutenant, Mr.
Tillinghast, was directed to say whether the person called was one
of the crew of the Chance. As soon as this assurance was given, the
individual was ordered to pass down the Accommodation ladder into the
boat. Cheerfully was the word ‘Here!’ responded by each survivor as his
name was called. My own turn at length came, and the Commissary pointed
to the boat. I never moved with a lighter step, for that moment was the
happiest of my life. In the excess and overflowing of my joy, I even
forgot, for awhile, the detestable character of the Commissary himself,
and even, Heaven forgive me! bestowed a bow upon him as I passed.
“We took our stations in the boat in silence. No congratulations were
heard among us. Our feelings were too deep for utterance. For my own
part, I could not refrain from bursting into tears of joy.
“Still there were moments when it seemed impossible that we were in
reality without the limits of the Old Jersey. We dreaded the idea that
some unforeseen event might still detain us; and shuddered with the
apprehension that we might yet be returned to our dungeons.
“When the Cartel arrived the surviving number of our crew on board
the Old Jersey was but thirty-five. This fact being well known to Mr.
Tillinghast, and finding that the Cartel had brought forty prisoners, he
allowed five of our comrades in the Gun-room to answer to the names of
the same number of our crew who had died; and having disguised them in
the garb of common seamen, they passed unsuspected.
“It was nearly sunset when we had all arrived on board the Cartel. No
sooner had the exchange been completed than the Commissary left us, with
our prayers that we might never behold him more. I then cast my eyes
towards the hulk, as the horizontal rays of the sunset glanced on her
polluted sides, where, from the bend upwards, filth of every description
had been permitted to accumulate for years; and the feeling of disgust
which the sight occasioned was indescribable. The multitude on her
Spar-deck and Fore-castle were in motion, and in the act of descending
for the night; presenting the same appearance that met my sight when,
nearly five months before, I had, at the same hour, approached her as a
prisoner.”
It appears that many other seamen on board the Jersey and the Hospital
ships were exchanged as a good result of the Memorial addressed to
General Washington. An issue of the _Royal Gazette_ of New York,
published on the 17th of July, 1782, contains the following statement:
“The following is a Statement of the Navy Prisoners who have, within the
last few days, been exchanged and brought to this city, viz:
“From Boston, 102 British Seamen. “From Rhode Island, 40 British Seamen.
“From New London, Conn., 84 British Seamen. “From Baltimore, Md, 23
British Seamen. “Total 249.
“The exertions of those American Captains who published to the world in
this _Gazette_, dated July 3rd, the real state and condition of their
countrymen, prisoners here, and the true cause of their durance and
sufferings, we are informed was greatly conducive to the bringing this
exchange into a happy effect. We have only to lament that the endeavors
of those who went, for the same laudable purpose, to Philadelphia, have
not hitherto been so fortunate.”
This was published before the release of Captain Dring and the crew of
the Chance, and shows that they were not the only prisoners who were so
happy as to be exchanged that summer. It is possible that the crew
of the Chance is referred to in this extract from the _Pennsylvania
Packet_, Philadelphia, Thursday, August 15th, 1782: “Providence, July
27th. Sunday last a flag of truce returned here from New York, and
brought 39 prisoners.”