DARTMOOR PRISON.

The war between the United States of America and Great Britain, which

has been so costly in blood and treasure, and agonized the hearts

of so many thousands of our fellow-beings, was formally declared,

by a proclamation issued by the President of the United States, in

conformity with a solemn act of the supreme legislature of the nation,

on the eighteenth day of June, in the year of our Lord one thousand

eight hundred and twelve. The nations were, by this act, at open

hostilities, and began to capture each other’s vessels upon the high

seas, wherever found. I myself happened to be so unfortunate as to be

among the first captives brought into England. On our first arrival

there, we were all collected from different ports, and confined in

different prisons. Some were sent to Chatham, some to Hamoze, and

others to Portsmouth; where a strict examination took place as to their

nativity and citizenship. After the examination, the officers who were

entitled to their parole, (such as commanders and first lieutenants

of privateers mounting fourteen guns, commanders and first mates of

merchantmen, non-combatants, &c.) received it, and were sent to the

little village of Ashburton, in Devonshire, or Reading, in Berkshire;

the former is situated about twenty-six miles inland from Plymouth,

and the principal place of confinement for paroled officers. The town

of Ashburton is pleasantly situated in a healthy and fertile part of

the country, where every article of provision is more easily obtained

and at a much cheaper rate than in many other parts of the kingdom.

Here all the officers on parole had their names registered, and

particular personal description taken of them. They had allowed them by

the British government one shilling and six pence, which is equal to

thirty-three and a quarter cents, money of the United States, per day

each man. With this small allowance, great numbers of paroled officers

were compelled entirely to subsist, for having no other dependence and

no friends in this country, they were obliged to purchase clothing,

board, and lodging, and all other necessaries of life, and to make use

of every economy to prevent themselves from suffering, notwithstanding

the cheapness of provisions, and the facility of obtaining them. They

were permitted, during the day, to walk one mile on the turnpike road

towards London or Plymouth, and at a certain early hour every evening

they had to retire to their respective lodgings, and there to remain

till next morning; those were their general restrictions for all the

days in the week, except two, on which every officer must answer at

a particular place appointed by their keepers, in the presence of

their agent or inspector. In this manner some hundreds of officers

were compelled to drag out a tedious existence in a state of painful

solicitude for their country, their homes and families, during the

greater part of the late war.

But the condition of the officers on parole was enviable indeed,

when compared with that of the officers and others not entitled to

that privilege. Every such person taken under the flag of the United

States, were sent to some one of the places before mentioned, and

confined on board prison ships. The greatest number were sent to the

Hector and La Brave, two line of battle ships which were unfit for his

majesty’s service at sea, and were now used for the confinement of

prisoners of war. These were placed under the command of a lieutenant,

master’s mate, midshipman, and about twenty invalid seamen; there is

also a guard under the command of a lieutenant, ensign, and corporal,

consisting of thirty-five soldiers to each of these ships.

The Hector and La Brave lie about two miles from Plymouth, well moored

by chain moorings. Captain Edward Pelew, of the royal navy, the agent

for prisoners of war, resides at this place. On the reception of

all prisoners into their respective prison ships, they were obliged

to undergo a strict examination concerning their birth, place of

residence, and age; a complete and minute description of their person

in all respects was taken down in writing. After the examination,

there was delivered to each man a very coarse and worthless hammock,

with a thin coarse bed-sack, with at most not more than three or four

pounds of flops or chopped rags, one thin coarse and sleazy blanket;

this furniture of the _bedchamber_ was to last for a year and a half

before we could draw others. After the distribution of the bedding,

we were informed of the rules and restrictions which we must strictly

observe. Every ship has a physician attached to it, who is ever to be

on board, and when any prisoner is sick, he is to repair immediately

to a certain part of the ship for medical aid; but seldom has he any

attention paid him till the moment of dissolution, the doctors paying

but little attention to the suffering prisoners, although a prisoner

is seldom or never suffered to expire on board; for at the moment

death seems inevitably approaching, the prisoner is removed to a

ship lying near by, called the hospital ship, where if he happen to

survive the removal, he receives much better treatment and attendance;

but when once removed to that ship, they may bid adieu to their

fellow-prisoners, and most of them to sublunary things; for not more

than one out of ten ever recovers.

We were then informed, that the Transport Board had most _graciously_

and _humanely_, for the health and happiness of the prisoners, imposed

on them the following duty; to keep clean the ship’s decks and hold;

to hoist in water, provisions, coal, and every other article expended

or used in the ship; and also to permit the prisoners to cook their

own victuals, which consisted of the following rations allowed by the

English government: To each man one pound and a half of very poor

coarse bread, half a pound of beef, including the bone, one-third of

an ounce of salt, and the same quantity of barley, with one or two

turnips, per man. These were the rations for five days in the week; the

other two were fish days, the rations for which were one pound of salt

fish, the same weight of potatoes, and the usual allowance of bread.

The confinement, and this scanty and meager diet for men who were

brought up in a land of liberty, and ever used to feast on the luscious

fruits of plenty, soon brought on a pale and sickly countenance, a

feeble and dejected spirit, and a lean, half animate body. This bad

state of living, I solemnly believe, has been the serious cause of

inducing many valuable citizens of the United States to enter the

king’s service, to the great injury of their country.

The prisoners are counted every night as they are ordered below by the

guard; and every morning, about sunrise, each prisoner is obliged to

“take up his bed and walk;” for he is ordered to shoulder his hammock

and go on deck, and be counted with it on his shoulder. He then leaves

his hammock on deck all day, and has permission to go below or remain

on deck, as best suits his convenience.

No prisoner is permitted to hold any correspondence, except by unsealed

letters passing through the hands of the Board of Transport. No boat

is permitted to come alongside the ship, unless by permission of the

commanding officer, and then must be strictly examined by the sentry,

to prevent any liquor, newspapers, or candles, from coming among the

prisoners; these being prohibited by the _gracious_ and _humane_ Board

of Transport.

For consolation in our present miserable condition, we were informed

that the said _honorable_ Board had indulgently permitted the American

prisoners to establish and carry on any branch of manufacture, except

such as netting, woollen fabrics, making straw hats and bonnets, &c.

&c.; or rather, they prohibited every branch of manufactory which

they were capable of pursuing. At this time they could have carried

on the making of straw into flats for bonnets with very considerable

advantage, as almost every sailor was more or less capable of

working at this art, and, by strict attention to the business, could

have earned six or eight pence sterling per day: but this was not

permitted, and we considered this prohibition a contrivance of the

agents of government to induce the prisoners to enter his majesty’s

service. Their situation was now so abject and wretched, that they

were willing to embrace any opportunity where there was the least

prospect of bettering their condition, however repugnant to their

feelings or sentiments; and though their country’s interest was ever

nearest to their hearts, yet, through the faint hope of ameliorating

their condition, and some day or other of returning to their native

land, their wives and families, some of less fortitude were induced

to join in arms against their country. It could not be a crime; for

self-preservation is the first law of nature.

From the first of our imprisonment, which was shortly after the

commencement of the war, prisoners were constantly arriving, and

immediately disposed of in one or other of these depots:--among them

were great numbers of American seamen who had been delivered up from

the different ships of war in the English service, on board of which

they had remained from one to ten years, and after receiving many dozen

lashes at the gangway of the ships, were sent to prison with the

appellation of “dammed rebellious villains, unfit for his majesty’s

service!”

During the fall of the year one thousand eight hundred and twelve,

until April in one thousand eight hundred and thirteen, the English had

collected at the following depots the number hereinafter mentioned,

who were mostly prisoners delivered up from ships of war, and citizens

of the United States detained in them for some time before. At Chatham

were collected about nine hundred; at Portsmouth, about one hundred;

and at Plymouth, about seven hundred. These unfortunate men had often

made application to Mr. Beasley, the agent for American prisoners of

war, who resided in England, but were never able to obtain an answer

from him. At this time, great numbers of the oldest prisoners were

completely destitute of clothing, and the most active and cleanly

unable to avoid being covered with vermin.

On the second of April, one thousand eight hundred and thirteen,

the Transport Board, apprehending the escape of the prisoners, in

consequence of their repeated threats to that purpose, issued an order

to Captain Pelew, then agent for the prisoners at Plymouth, to make

preparation for removing all the prisoners then confined on board the

Hector prison-ship, at Plymouth, to the depot at Dartmoor, in the

county of Devon, situated seventeen miles from Plymouth, in the back

country.

These orders were accordingly made known to the prisoners; and on the

morning of the third of April, they were ordered on deck, with their

hammocks, baggage, &c., in readiness to march to a prison, the very

name of which made the mind of every prisoner “shrink back with dread,

and startle at the thought;” for fame had made them well acquainted

with the horrors of that infernal abode, which was by far the most

dreadful prison in all England, and in which it was next to impossible

for human beings long to survive.

Two hundred and fifty dejected and unhappy sufferers, already too

wretched, were called, each of whom received a pair of shoes, and

his allowance of bread and salt fish. Orders were then immediately

given, for every man to deliver up his bed and hammock, and to repair

forthwith into the different launches belonging to the ships of war,

which were alongside the ship, ready to receive them. The prisoners

entered, surrounded by the guards and seamen belonging to the Hector

and La Brave. We were landed at New Passage, near Plymouth, and were

placed under the guard of a company of soldiers, equal in number to

the prisoners! Orders were then given to march at half-past ten in the

morning, with a positive injunction that no prisoner should step out

of, or leave the ranks, on pain of instant death. Thus we marched,

surrounded by a strong guard, through a heavy rain, and over a bad

road, with only our usual and scanty allowance of bread and fish. We

were allowed to stop only once during the march of seventeen miles.

We arrived at Dartmoor late in the after part of the day, and found the

ground covered with snow. Nothing could form a more dreary prospect

than that which now presented itself to our hopeless view. Death

itself, with the hopes of an hereafter, seemed less terrible than this

gloomy prison.

The prison at Dartmoor is situated on the east side of one of the

highest and most barren mountains in England, and is surrounded on all

sides, as far as the eye can see, by the gloomy features of a black

moor, uncultivated and uninhabited, except by one or two miserable

cottages, just discernible in an eastern view, the tenants of which

live by cutting turf on the moor, and selling it at the prison. The

place is deprived of every thing that is pleasant or agreeable, and is

productive of nothing but human woe and misery. Even riches, pleasant

friends and liberty could not make it agreeable. It is situated

seventeen miles distant from Plymouth, fourteen from the town of

Moorton, and seven from the little village of Tavastock.

On entering this depot “of living death,” we first passed through the

gates, and found ourselves surrounded by two huge circular walls, the

outer one of which is a mile in circumference and sixteen feet high;

the inner wall is distant from the outer thirty feet, around which is

a chain of bells suspended by a wire, so that the least touch sets

every bell in motion, and alarms the garrison. On the top of the

inner wall is placed a guard at the distance of every twenty feet,

which frustrates every attempt at escape, and instantly quells every

disorderly motion of the prisoners. Between the two walls and over the

intermediate space, are also stationed guards. The soldiers’ guard

house, the turnkey’s office, and many other small buildings, are also

within these two circular walls. Likewise several large commodious

dwelling-houses, which are occupied by the captain of the prison,

doctor, clerks, turnkeys, &c., &c. Inside of the walls are erected

large barracks, capacious enough to contain one thousand soldiers,

and also a hospital for the reception of the sick. No pains have been

spared to render the hospital convenient and comfortable for the sick

prisoner. And certainly much credit is due to the director of this

humane institution, whoever he may have been, for the attention paid

to this most important appendage of an extensive prison. These last

mentioned buildings, and several small store-houses, are enclosed by a

third wall. These three ranks of walls form in this direction a barrier

which is insurmountable.

Thus much for the court-yard of this seminary of misery; we shall

next proceed to give a description of the gloomy mansion itself. On

entering, we found seven prisons enclosed in the following manner, and

situated quite within all the walls before mentioned. Prison No. 1, 2

and 3, are built of hard, rough, unhewn stone, three stories high, one

hundred and eighty feet long and forty broad; each of these prisons,

on an average, are to contain fifteen hundred prisoners. There is also

attached to the yard of these prisons a house of correction, called a

cachot; this is built of large stone, arched above and floored with

the same. Into this cold, dark, and damp cell, the unhappy prisoner is

cast if he offend against the rules of the prison, either willingly

or inadvertently, and often on the most frivolous pretence. There he

must remain for many days, and often weeks, on two-thirds the usual

allowance of food, without a hammock or bed, and nothing but a stone

pavement for his chair and bed. These three prisons are situated on the

north side of the enclosure, as is also the cachot, and separated from

the other prisons by a wall. Next to these is another, No. 4, which is

equally as large as any of the others; this is separated from all the

others by a wall on each side, and stands in the centre of the circular

walls.

Adjoining to this, are situated, in rotation, prisons No. 5, 6, and 7,

along the south side of the circular wall. To each prison is attached a

small yard, with a constant run of water passing through it.

After viewing this huge pile of building, and obtaining what little

information we were able at this time, we were informed that these

seven prisons contained a _small family_ of French people, consisting

of about eight thousand, who were also prisoners of war. Among these

fluttering, ghastly skeletons, we were directed to take up our abode,

and distribute ourselves as well as we could.

We received our usual hammock and bed, and in conformity with our

orders, repaired separately to one or other of six of these prisons;

the seventh being allotted to those criminals who had committed

misdemeanors, such as murder, larceny on their fellow-prisoners, and

other heinous offences, which too frequently occurred.

We entered the prisons; but here the heart of every American was

appalled. Amazement struck the unhappy victim; for as he cast his

hopeless eyes around the prison, he saw the water constantly dropping

from the cold stone walls on every side, which kept the floor (made of

stone) constantly wet, and cold as ice.

All the prison floors were either stone or cement, and each story

contained but one apartment, and resembled long vacant horse-stables.

There were in each story six tiers of joists for the prisoners to

fasten their hammocks to. The hammocks have a stick at each end to

spread them out, and are hung in the manner of cots, four or five

deep, or one above the other. On each side of the prison is left a

vacancy for a passage from one end of the prison to the other. We were

then informed that the prisoners must be counted out and messed, six

together, every morning by the guards and turnkeys.

During the month of April there was scarce a day but more or less rain

fell. The weather here is almost constantly wet and foggy, on account

of the prison being situated on the top of a mountain, whose elevation

is two thousand feet above the level of the sea. This height is equal

to the plane on which the clouds generally float in a storm, the

atmosphere not being dense enough to support heavy clouds much above

that height; almost every one that passes that way finds the top of the

mountain enveloped in a thick fog and heavy torrent of rain. In winter

the same cause makes as frequent snows as rain in summer. It is also

some degrees colder during the whole year than in the adjacent country

below. This too is occasioned by the great elevation of the top of the

mountain, which is above the atmosphere heated by the reflected rays

of the sun upon the common surface of the earth, and being small of

itself, reflects but little heat. These two causes combined, produce

constant cold and wet weather.

Information was brought us that all prisoners in England were placed

on a naval establishment, and under the direction of a naval officer.

Captain Isaac Cotgrave, of the royal navy, was the agent for the

prisoners of war at this depot. The Transport Board directed that a

market should be held every day, in front of each prison yard. This

market was supplied with provisions by the inhabitants of the adjacent

country; twenty or thirty of whom came every day, and furnished it with

every kind of country produce. They were not allowed to impose on the

prisoners, by demanding an exhorbitant price for their produce; the

prices of every article were fixed by the turnkeys before they entered

the yard, according to the prices in the nearest market-town. No person

was permitted to enter within the first gate, without being strictly

examined as to their business, and without giving a satisfactory

account of themselves; if they did this, they were then permitted to

enter and begin their trade.

At the market, the French prisoners carry on a great traffic. They buy

and sell, and are, apparently, as happy as if they were not imprisoned.

But the Americans are not so;--they long for that land of liberty, so

dear to them, and sigh for their distant home.

As this depot seems to be the most interesting scene of misery, we

shall confine ourselves more particularly to the events which occurred

here; only touching, occasionally, upon the most important events of

the few prisoners at the other depots.

From the commencement of the war, and previous to April 1813, a great

number of prisoners had been sent home, by exchange. Numbers died,

and some entered the service of Great Britain. The names of those who

died, and those who entered the service, are mentioned in the catalogue

hereunto annexed. About the first of May, Captain Cotgrave gave orders

to have all the American prisoners collected from the different

prisons, and transferred to prison No. 4.

In this prison were about nine hundred of the most abject and outcast

wretches that were ever beheld. French prisoners, too wicked and

malicious to live with their other unfortunate countrymen: they were

literally and emphatically naked; having neither clothing or shoes,

and as poor and meager in flesh as the human frame could bear. Their

appearance was really shocking to human feeling. The mind cannot figure

to itself any thing in the shape of men, which so much resembled the

fabled ghosts of Pluto, as these naked and starved French prisoners.

Much of the misery and wretchedness of these creatures was owing to

their imprudence and bad conduct.

These men were now to be our associates, and we deprived of the

privileges allowed heretofore to prisoners of war. As the gate of this

yard is always kept shut, we could have no advantage of the markets, or

connexion with the other prisoners; while the French prisoners, in the

other prisons, were allowed those benefits.

The American prisoners now began to experience a new scene of

distress;--the little clothing they had when they were taken, was

either worn out or disposed of at a very reduced price, (not more than

one tenth of the value,) to buy the very necessary articles of soap and

tobacco.

We remained in this situation during the month of May, one thousand

eight hundred and thirteen, close confined in prison No. 4, with the

liberty of that one yard. We often demanded of Captain Cotgrave, the

reason why such distinction was made between the American and French

prisoners; but were never able to obtain any other reason, than that

his orders were issued from the Transport Board to do so. This month

we received letters from our fellow-prisoners at Chatham, and those on

board the prison ships at Plymouth; who informed us of every particular

of their situation at both places; but they were comparatively well

off, when compared with our situation. The prisoners at Plymouth

informed us, that other prisoners arrived there daily, and that they

expected shortly to be removed, and to participate with us in the

sufferings and misery of Dartmoor.

On the twenty-ninth of May, the garrison which we found here, was

removed and supplied by new regiments of soldiers. We learned, that no

regiment is stationed here more than two or three months at a time.

These guards consist of about twelve or fifteen hundred soldiers, who

have been guilty of some offence, disobedience of orders, or neglect

of duty; and are sent here as a punishment. By these soldiers we were

informed of the particulars of the actions of the Java and Peacock.

At this time we made known, in as respectful a manner as we could, all

the particulars of our unhappy situation to Mr. Reuben G. Beasley,

agent for American prisoners of war. We informed him that our allowance

was too scanty, that the whole day’s allowance was scarcely enough for

one meal, that the greater part of the prisoners were in a state of

nakedness; and also, that great numbers had enlisted out of the prison,

into the king’s service;--that they had been compelled to do it, in

hopes to better their condition, and indeed to preserve life. For, as

they were wholly neglected by the agent of their country, they saw no

other means by which it was possible to preserve existence--or ever to

return to their country; as they totally despaired of any exchange.

At the same time we informed him, that unless something was done soon

for our relief, we must all either (though reluctantly) enter the

service of the enemy, or fall a sacrifice to famine and want.

We informed him also of the distinction which was made between the

French and American prisoners. The former were allowed many privileges

and advantages, which were denied the latter; and that our treatment

was contrary to what we considered the custom and usage of civilized

nations in modern warfare. That we were hurried into the prison-house

before dark, locked up, to remain without any light or fire till seven

or eight o’clock in the morning.

If a prisoner had to leave his hammock, _per necessitatem_, he was

obliged to grope from one end of the room to the other, and often could

not regain it during the whole night.

To all these petitions, complaints, and remonstrances, Mr. Beasley

returned no answer, nor took any notice of them whatever; which, of

course, made every prisoner despair of any relief from him. These

letters could not miscarry, or be intercepted; for we had formed a

course of correspondence with several very respectable mercantile

houses in London, through which our letters were sure to reach Mr.

Beasley by private conveyance.

The month of June commenced with deep distress; for disease was then

added to nakedness and famine; and we were still more severely dealt

by. For Doctor Dyer, who was head surgeon of the Hospital-department,

would not permit an American prisoner to be brought into the hospital,

until his complaint was completely confirmed, and often not until he

was so weak, and reduced so low, that it would take four men to remove

him on his hammock. For this conduct, he justified himself by saying,

that he had been acquainted with the impositions of the Americans

during the revolutionary war, and that these impositions were not to

be played off on him any more.

A moment’s reflection must have convinced him, that it was impossible

for these men not to be sick, in their starved, naked and wretched

condition; sleeping in a prison, whose walls were constantly wet and

cold, occasioned by the constant rainy, foggy, and damp weather on this

mountain.

But he refused to admit the American prisoners into the hospital,

because, he said, such numbers would breed every kind of pestilence and

disease among the French prisoners. We attributed these evils to the

shameful and criminal neglect of the agent of American prisoners, whose

conduct deserves the severest censure of every prisoner, and requires a

strict and impartial investigation by the authority of his country.

From the first to the fifteenth of May, we were every day called out of

the prison and counted, to see if any remained in prison. The soldiers

then entered the prison, and searched every hammock; if they found any

prisoner, he was hastened out into the yard, though they were often

found so weak and feeble, that it required assistance to enable them to

walk.

The guards discharged this duty with great reluctance; their feelings

often revolted, when compelled to do this unkind office, and though

accustomed to scenes of distress, were very sensibly touched at the

miserable situation of these their fellow beings.

On the eighteenth of May, we received letters from the other depots,

and were informed that there were seven hundred prisoners at Plymouth,

on board the Hector, which was so much crowded, that Captain Pelew, of

the Royal Navy, and principal agent of the Board, had received orders

from the Board, to remove the prisoners to other depots, either to that

of Chatham, Dartmoor, or Stapleton, which is near Bristol. This last

place was fixed on by the Board as a necessary precaution to prevent

any disturbance, which was apprehended might arise, should too many

American prisoners be confined in one place.

Accordingly, on the twenty-eighth, Captain Pelew ordered two hundred

and fifty to be landed from the Hector and marched to Dartmoor.

They arrived there on the same day, and after going through the

same manœuvre as the first draft, they were committed to No. 4.

These, together with the former draft, made four hundred and seventy

Americans, and seven hundred naked outcast French, all intermixed in

one prison.

Care was taken to keep the yard of this prison always locked, to

prevent us from going to market. By this means, all we obtained from

the market came through the hands of the French prisoners in the other

prisons, who obliged us to pay twenty-five per cent. above the market

price for all we had. At this time, about thirty were missing out of

the number, some dead, and others had enlisted into the king’s service.

On the twenty-ninth, fifty more American prisoners were transported

from on board the Hector, in a ship of war, round to Chatham. Two only

at a time were permitted to come on deck; the others were compelled

to remain below, without hammock, bed, or blanket. I leave the reader

to judge whether this measure arose from wanton cruelty in those

immediately concerned, or whether it was absolutely necessary to

prevent their escape, or rising and taking the ship, which had her

whole crew on board.

On the thirtieth, two hundred prisoners were ordered to go ashore, who

accordingly made themselves ready, and landed at New Passage, under

a guard of seamen and marines. Here they were received by a guard of

soldiers, consisting of two hundred and fifty, who were to convey them

on foot one hundred and thirty-four miles to Stapleton, within a few

miles of Bristol.

Stapleton is a pleasant situation, and is a fine healthy country; but

the fatigue of the journey, the restrictions and inconvenience to which

the prisoners were subjected, presented to them a melancholy prospect.

At the commencement of their journey, they were provided with a

shilling (twenty-two and a half cents) per day, for their traveling

expenses. This was all the allowance made them to purchase food, drink,

and lodging; and they were to perform the whole journey in eight days.

They were also particularly enjoined not to leave the ranks on pain of

death, and the guard had orders to despatch any prisoner who should

attempt to escape. The particulars of their march, their arrival at

Stapleton, and treatment at that place, will be mentioned hereafter.

On the first of July, two hundred more were ordered from on board

the Hector, to march and share with us the miseries of Dartmoor.

They were landed as usual, and marched under a strong guard to that

mountain of wretchedness, and after passing through the usual forms

at their arrival, were received into prison No. 4, and might justly

have exclaimed, in the language of an eminent poet, “Hail, horrors!

hail, thou profoundest hell! receive thy new possessor.” For every one

ordered to this prison, counted himself lost.

On the third of July, another draft of prisoners, consisting of

about two hundred and fifty, were taken from the Hector, and sent to

Stapleton, under the usual guard, allowance, and restrictions.

The fourth of July, the birth-day of our nation, had now arrived. The

American prisoners, feeling that fire of patriotism, and that just

pride and honor, which fills the bosom of every American, when that

great day of jubilee arrives, roused all their drooping spirits, and

prepared to celebrate it in a manner becoming their situation. We had

by some means obtained two American standards; and being upward of

six hundred in number, we divided into two columns, and displayed our

flags at each end of the prison. Of the propriety of the proceedings,

I leave the reader to judge. We were, however, resolved to defend them

till the last moment: but Captain Cotgrave, either from a determination

to depress our spirits as much as possible, that we might the more

readily be induced to enter the service of the king, or that an enemy’s

flag should not be hoisted in their country, ordered the turnkeys to

enter the prison-yard, and take the colors from us. We returned him an

answer, that the day was the birth-day of freedom, and the anniversary

of our nation; and that he would confer on us a particular favor, if

he would permit us to enjoy it with a decorum and propriety suited to

our situation as prisoners of war. We added this _arrogant_ condition,

that if he should persist in attempting to take that flag which we

should ever respect, in whatever country we were, he must abide by

the consequences. Captain Cotgrave, being irritated at this haughty

and independent language, ordered the guard into the prison-yard to

take the standards from us. An obstinate resistance was made. After

some time spent in fighting for the flags, the guard obtained one:

the prisoners bore off the other in triumph, and secured it. The

remainder of the day was spent in harmony and quietness. At evening,

when the guards came as usual to turn us into the prison, a dispute

arose upon the pitiful revenge sought for in depriving the prisoners of

their flag. This soon grew into an affray; the guards fired upon the

prisoners, and wounded two, which ended the affray.

From the disturbance on the evening of the fourth, nothing remarkable

took place, the prisoners being generally tolerable quiet and

peaceable till the tenth, when a dispute arose between the French and

American prisoners in the yard of No. 4; the dispute was quite warm,

and pervaded nearly all the prisoners of both nations, each of whom

espoused the cause of his fellow-prisoner. Things were not pushed

to extremities this evening, the hour to turn in prevented their

further progress; but animosities had not subsided. At this time the

French prisoners occupied the two upper stories of prison No. 4; they

consisted of about nine hundred outcasts from the other prisons, as we

had occasion to mention before. They had during the night, with malice

prepense, concerted a plan to massacre the Americans. With this design,

they had provided themselves with knives, clubs, stones, staves, and

every kind of weapon they could obtain.

Thus armed, they had managed to be in the yard first in the morning,

and arrayed themselves to give battle as soon as a sufficient number

of Americans should come out. Accordingly, when about one hundred and

twenty had entered the yard, this group of naked malignity began the

attack with desperate fierceness; the Americans, unsuspicious of an

attack, were of course unarmed, and at first could make no resistance;

but after recovering from the surprise which so sudden an attack had

created, they made an attempt to rally; but the Frenchmen cutting off

their retreat into the prison and preventing those within from joining

or rendering any assistance, soon caused the Americans to fall a prey

to their superior number. Before the guards could interfere to prevent

the further proceedings, the Americans were mostly stabbed or knocked

down with heavy stones, and mangled in a most shocking manner. What

would have been the issue, had not the guards entered, and by charging

on both parties put a stop to the battle, is difficult to tell. On

examining the wounded, (fortunately none were killed,) it appeared

that about twenty on both sides were badly, and many others slightly

wounded. The former were taken to the hospital, and though apparently

dangerous, in a short time all recovered. Captain Cotgrave immediately

informed the Board of Transport of this unhappy event; but painted it

in such dark colors on the side of the Americans, that the Board gave

answer, that the Americans were totally different from all other men,

and unfit to live in any society. “If the household be devils, what is

the master of the house?” Did not the Americans descend from England?

The yard of No. 4 was ordered to be divided, which was done by a wall

fifteen feet high, which cut off all communication with the Americans,

and their late meager associates. This act, though it seemed to have

been done to injure the Americans, certainly created no regret;

for instead of doing them an injury, it was a great relief to be

disencumbered of that outcast tribe.

A spark of momentary joy may burst through the darkest clouds of grief,

and hope for a moment make us forget our miseries. On the twenty-ninth

of this month, Captain Cotgrave received orders to remove one hundred

and twenty Americans from this prison to Chatham, which was to be the

complement of a cartel ship then lying at that place; this embraced

the greater part of the prisoners captured before January, 1813. There

remained of those captured before and after that time, 1200 at Chatham,

400 at Stapleton, and a few less than 500 at Dartmoor, some on board

the prison ships, and a number of officers on parole at Ashburton. The

greater part of these had been delivered up from ships of war.

At the close of this month, forty-five were found to have entered the

service of the enemy, and fifteen had died at this place, seven or

eight at Chatham, and not one at Stapleton.

At the commencement of August, we found ourselves limited and very

much straitened in our regulations. We were not permitted to go out

of the yard. A more alarming scene of distress than any we had before

experienced, now presented itself before us, and death seemed to be the

inevitable lot of every man.

The King of Terrors daily reached forth his inexorable hand, and

removed the sufferer from the pale of this clay tenement; for the

small-pox had got among the prisoners, and its ravages were so

alarming, that every prisoner expected each day would be his last; for

numbers died daily.

The prisoners who remained able, collected themselves together, and

formed a committee of correspondence, who, by bribing the guards,

conveyed letters daily to Mr. Beasley; particularly describing their

situation, that they were almost naked, and defrauded by the Contractor

of half their rations, which before were but one-third enough. That the

small-pox had got among them, and numbers died daily--that they were

covered with _animalcula_, and unless he could do something for their

relief, they must all perish together.

To these complaints he paid no kind of attention, neither came to see

whether they were true or false, nor sent any answer either written or

verbal.

The reader can easily figure to himself what must have been our

feelings, when five hundred men, closely confined in one apartment,

with that mortal epidemic among them without any assistance, or

possibility of escape.

The evil must lie somewhere; we were in doubt whether to believe it

was the will of the general government, of the people at large of this

country, or whether it was not entirely the fault of our agent, in not

seeing that all the officers in whose immediate care we were, acted

the honest part in the performance of those duties, which both this

government and that of the United States had intrusted to them. It was

not a general thing, and the evil was near at hand. The prisoners at

Halifax fared well; they did not, nor could not, complain; prisoners in

other places in England were tolerably well provided for.

After so many fruitless applications to our agent, we despaired of

any relief from that quarter, and then made application to Captain

Cotgrave, and demanded of him, what provisions the government of

England made for prisoners of war, when neglected by their own

government. He gave us every opportunity to search out the fault, by

producing the following printed rules and regulations, made by the

Transport Board.

The honorable Transport Board have made arrangements with certain

agents or contractors, to supply all prisoners of war, as follows:

Each prisoner to receive per day, for five days in the week, one and

a half pounds of coarse brown bread; one-half pound of beef, including

the bone; one-third of an ounce of barley; the same quantity of salt;

one-third of an ounce of onions; and one pound of turnips. The residue

of the week, the usual allowance of bread; one pound of pickled fish,

and just a sufficient quantity of coals to cook the same. These to be

served out daily by the contractors.

We watched the contractor, and found he weighed all the articles at

once, neat weight; and saw him scrimp the weight, to fill his pocket

out of the prisoners’ bellies.

On beef days, the whole is thrown into a large copper; when it is

sufficiently boiled, the bone is taken out, and each mess, consisting

of six, receives twenty-seven ounces of beef, and one gallon and one

pint of soup.

On the fish days, every mess boiled their potatoes and fish in a net

made of rope-yarn, that they might have it separately to themselves;

after it was boiled, it was taken up in wooden buckets, with which

each mess were provided; and each prisoner, being also furnished with

a wooden spoon, sets round the bucket, on the wet floor, and makes a

fierce attack.

After making these, and some other demands, which we considered

ourselves entitled to, most of which were immediately granted, but

some delayed, as we shall note hereafter, our sufferings were somewhat

relieved.

Could not these have been removed by our agent long before? We find but

few men so honest that they do not need looking to sometimes by those

who are interested in their honesty. These contractors would have been

as honest as many other men, with sharp looking after. Was it not,

then, the duty of Mr. Beasley to see that the prisoners had what the

government of England allowed them? If it was not, what was his duty?

Was he sent there, as the log of wood in the fable was sent by Jupiter

into the pond, to be god for the frogs?

We found, by the printed regulations delivered us by Capt. Cotgrave,

the government allowed each prisoner a hammock, one blanket, one

horse-rug, and a bed, containing four pounds of flocks; these articles

too were to serve us two years. By the same regulations, the prisoners

were to receive for clothing, every eighteen months, one yellow

round-about jacket, one pair of pantaloons, and a waistcoat of the same

materials, as the government of England allow for their soldiers; and

one pair of shoes and one shirt, every nine months. The shirt, though

coarse, was a change which we had not had for a long time before. All

these we demanded and received; we also received a woollen cap, which

was to serve us eighteen months.

I cannot leave this subject without some little description of several

of the articles of clothing. I will begin with the cap, and take them

in their natural order, from head to foot.

The cap was woollen, about an inch thick, and seemed to have been spun

in a rope-walk, but much coarser than common rope-yarn. The jacket was

not large enough to meet around the smallest of us, although reduced to

mere skeletons by such continued fasting; the sleeves came about half

way down the arm, and the hand stuck out like a spade; the waistcoat

was short--it would not meet before, nor down to the pantaloons--thus

leaving a space between of three or four inches; the pantaloons, which

were as tight as our skin itself, came down to the middle of the shin.

The shoes, which was the pedestal for all the ornaments above, were

made of list, interwoven and fastened to pieces of wood an inch and a

half thick. The figure we made in this dress was no common one.

“_Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici?_”--HOR. A. P.

“My friends, were you admitted to see this sight, could you keep from

laughing?” When you see us tackled, and put upon runners--skeletons as

we were.

By the regulations handed us, we also found that the Board allowed a

sweeper to every hundred men, to sweep and keep clean the prison, who

was to be taken from among the prisoners, and allowed by the government

three pence per day; and one out of every two hundred was allowed four

pence halfpenny a day for cooking. In like manner, a barber had three

pence; and the nurses in the hospital, six pence a day. All these

offices were occupied by Frenchmen, as was also the employments in the

mechanic arts at six pence per day.

During this month great numbers died of the small-pox, and some of

other diseases. Several entered the king’s service. Suspicions had

arisen, that several taken in arms against Great Britain, were British

subjects; they were consequently taken out, and charged with having

committed high treason. That they were taken in arms against Great

Britain, was not denied; but that they were her subjects, which was

the most essential part of the charge, could not be proved; they were

consequently acquitted, and remanded to prison.

We had but one clear day during the whole month of August.

September commenced, and we remained in the situation just described.

The prisoners continued very sickly.

Men, otherwise commonly honest, when reduced to extreme necessity,

naturally resort to the commission of crimes. It is a maxim strikingly

true, that “hunger will break through a stone wall;” and it is equally

true, that it will break through all moral obligation. Honesty and

integrity are but mere chimeras in dire necessity. Such was our

situation, that it resembled more a state of nature than a civilized

society. Petty larcenies were daily committed among the prisoners;

brothers and the most intimate friends stealing from each other. To

provide a remedy against this evil, we appointed a legislative body,

to form a code of laws for the punishment of all such misdemeanors. A

tribunal was also formed to try and convict all criminals according

to law and evidence. Many were tried, found guilty, and sentenced to

receive twenty-four lashes equally as severe as is given at the gangway

of a man-of-war ship.

To show the force of habit, though it is a vicious one, we will give

the reader a striking example. Some of the prisoners were so attached

to chewing tobacco, that they sold all their day’s allowance of beef

to the French at the gate, to purchase one chew. They sometimes sold

this allowance to buy soap enough to wash one shirt, but this was only

enduring one evil to remedy a worse.

By letters received from our fellow-prisoners on board the Crowned

Prince, and the Nassau, prison ships at Chatham, we received

information that the Americans were distributed among the French

prisoners on board the several different ships at that place, and very

severely used; that they had vainly addressed Mr. Beasley, and that

several had died and numbers entered the British service.

By letters received from Stapleton, we were informed of the particulars

of their march from Plymouth, which we promised to give the reader

in a former part of this work. The reader will remember, that at the

commencement of their journey, they were allowed a shilling a day for

traveling expenses, and on their way, they had to pay three pence a

night to lodge in a barn, or some public building, on straw. As they

were allowed a shilling only, this took one-quarter of the whole. With

much ado they reached Stapleton; they found the prison at that place

well constructed for the convenience of the prisoners, within a short

distance of the city of Bristol; which is the third city in England,

and situated in Somersetshire, at the conflux of the river Avon, with

the small stream of the Froom, about ten miles from the mouth of the

Severn; these, and several other small tributary streams, running

through a fertile country, bring into market all kinds of provisions

and fruits common to the country, which are sold at a much cheaper

rate than at most other places in the kingdom. From these sources,

the market at Stapleton, which is kept every day at the prison, is

supplied with all kinds of market produce. On their arrival they found

five thousand French prisoners. There are three prisons enclosed

and garrisoned in the same manner as those at Dartmoor; they were

distributed among the French prisoners in the different prisons. They

had also written to Mr. Beasley several times, and informed him, that

their situation was bad, although much better than that at Dartmoor,

and required his attention. But he was determined to take no notice.

They therefore concluded, that no arrangement was to be made for their

exchange, or that any assistance was to be offered from the government

of the United States, made necessity an excuse for entering the service

of the enemy of their country; which many did at that place.

How far this is a crime, when we consider the _quo animo_? I shall

take this opportunity to show what is the custom of nations, and what

appears to be the law of nature. It is said, “If a person be under

circumstances of actual force and constraint, through a well-grounded

apprehension of injury to his life or person, this fear, or compulsion,

will excuse his even joining with either rebels or enemies in the

kingdom, provided he leaves them whenever he hath a safe opportunity.”

Now to return to Dartmoor. At a time when the prisoners had despaired

of any relief, and began to reconcile themselves to their hard fate,

they were very agreeably surprised to hear that Mr. Reuben G. Beasley

had condescended to visit them, and then waited at the gate for

admittance. The idea, that their deliverer had come, diffused a general

joy through the whole prison, and “lighted up a smile in the aspect of

woe.” The soldiers and guards were ordered into the prison, and turned

out every man, both sick and well; overhauled the hammocks, swept the

prison, and opened the window-shutters: all filth was removed and every

thing made clean, for the first time since our arrival. The guards were

then stationed at the door, to prevent any prisoner from going in, to

have any communication with the agent: we were told, that no man could

speak to him, or have any communication with him whatever. At three

o’clock, the entrance of Mr. Beasley was announced by the turnkeys.

We arranged ourselves in the yard, in anxious expectation of the glad

tidings he might bring. He appeared, attended with his clerks, the

clerks of the prison, and a very numerous train of soldiers. As he

entered the yard of the prison, we presented a frightful appearance,

in our yellow uniform, wooden shod, and meager, lantern-jaws. He

felt the sight, and seemed much surprised at the group. We stood in

silent expectation; he moved along to the prison; but how were our

feelings damped at this moment! when we expected from him the language

of consolation and relief, he only uttered, in a careless tone to his

clerks, “that he did not think that the number had been so great!”

He entered, and cast his eyes around the cold wet walls of the prison,

and seemed to say, with a shrug of his shoulders, “I am glad that it

is not I that is to live here.” When he returned, we were determined

to have some conversation with him. We therefore collected round him,

demanded what arrangements were made for our relief, whether we must

expect to remain in our present condition? Telling him, that if we

must, that we could not long survive; and presenting him with a list of

names of those who had already entered the king’s service; and telling

him all the particulars of our distress. He then opened his mouth, and

said, he had no power to do any thing, nor any funds to do with; but he

would do his endeavor. We asked him the cause of so great a difference

in the treatment of the prisoners here and at Halifax? There they had

all the necessaries and conveniences of life; here we had none of

them. We asked him to whom we should apply for relief in future? We

told him we had been to great expense, heretofore, and much trouble,

in conveying letters to him, while he had not thought fit to answer.

He said the exchange of prisoners was stopped for the present year,

and that we could not expect to have our condition altered. With these

unwelcome observations, he went immediately out of the gates, and left

us to all the wretchedness of despair.

We returned into the prison, lamenting our fate. Some cursed the day

they were born; some, the day of their captivity; some attributed all

their sufferings to the inattention of the Agent, and others, to the

government of the United States. We retired to our hammocks, and gave

vent to our feelings in sighs and tears.

The thought that we must forego all the endearments of life, and perish

together, in a foreign country, among our enemies, was too much for our

feelings to bear. The groans of the disconsolate and sick filled the

whole prison. Our Agent not empowered to act, and without funds! We

had now only to look to heaven, whose will it was to bring us to this

state, and through whose mercy alone we could hope to find relief.

The winter was fast approaching, and the cold upon this mountain was

very severe. The small-pox still continued, and the measles had got

among us, and great numbers were sick with both diseases. The next day,

conceiving they had no other alternative, a great number entered the

British service; rather hazarding the chance of escape, and censure of

their country, than to trust life to the perils of this prison.

Although I am a little before some part of my story, I must not forget

to mention, that about the middle of September, another draft was

taken from the Hector, now at Hamoaze, near Plymouth; among which were

the crew of the United States’ brig Argus, taken by the Pelican. One

Robinson, who had belonged to the Argus, had declared, that several

of the crew of that vessel were British subjects. And immediately

seventeen, whom he pointed out, were taken and conveyed on board the

receiving ship, St. Salvador, and put into close confinement, there

to await their trial and execution, should they be found guilty. The

boatswain, and a number of others, wounded in the action, were conveyed

to the hospital, in Mill-prison at Plymouth.

At the end of this month a great number had died, and numbers down with

all complaints, prevalent in crowded camps or prisons. The weather much

like the month before.

By letters, received the tenth of October, from Chatham and Stapleton,

we were informed, that Mr. Beasley had visited them, and his conduct

and language at those places were the same as at this depot. By the

letters from Chatham, we had an account of eighteen making their

escape, by cutting a hole through the side of the Crown Prince, at that

place; that afterwards the guard were increased and more vigilant.

On the sixteenth, Capt. Cotgrave gave orders, by directions of

the Transport Board, to have all these outcast Frenchmen in No. 4

collected. This took four hundred and thirty-six from the prison, and

much relieved us.

Before I proceed with the remainder of my story, I cannot but here

observe the strange effect habit and corruption have in changing our

common nature. They had been many of them ten years in this prison in a

state of perfect nudity, and had been so for many years; had slept upon

the bare stone-floor without covering for many years, till the flesh

had acquired a sort of hardness, like the stones themselves.

This was the effect of gambling, which had acquired a greater power

over them than hunger or nakedness. Whenever they were supplied with

clothing, they never put them on, but turned to gambling, till they had

lost the whole. They had often been supplied by their countrymen in the

other prisons, with hammocks, beds, and clothing: but they no sooner

got possession of them, than they went to the grating of the other

prisons, and sold them, and gambled the whole away. It is difficult

for the mind to conceive, how human beings could be possessed of fewer

virtues or more vices; or how they could any further change their

common nature to a bestial one without the assistance of a Supreme

Being. It is a remarkable fact, that these men (if they yet deserve the

name) were more healthy, though stark naked winter and summer for ten

years, than any prisoners at this depot; though to the number of nine

thousand.

The French prisoners never received any assistance from the French

government, but depended entirely on the British. Though I cannot

praise the general acts of the latter government, nor am I disposed

to flatter; yet they did a humane act which certainly deserves

credit. They took these four hundred and thirty-six Frenchmen out of

this prison, clothed them well, and put them on board a prison-ship

at Plymouth, separate from all other men, except their guards, who

carefully watched them, and prevented them from disposing of their

clothes, and kept them decent during the remainder of their captivity.

In the six prisons, occupied by the French prisoners, is carried on

almost every branch of the mechanic arts. They resemble little towns,

being mostly soldiers; every man has his separate occupation; his

work-shop, his store-house, his coffee-house, his eating-house, &c.,

&c.; he is employed in some business or other.

There are many gentlemen of large fortunes here, who having broke their

parole, were committed to close confinement. These were able to support

themselves in a genteel manner; though they were prisoners, they drew

upon their bankers in other parts of Europe.

They manufactured shoes, hats, hair and bone-work. They likewise, at

one time, carried on a very lucrative branch of manufactory. They

forged notes on the Bank of England, to the amount of one hundred and

fifty thousand pounds sterling; and made so perfect an imitation, that

the cashier could not discover the forgery; and very much doubted the

possibility of such imitation.

They also carried on the coining of silver, to a very considerable

advantage; they had men constantly employed outside of the yard, to

collect all the Spanish dollars they could, and bring into prison. Out

of every dollar they made eight smooth English shillings; equally as

heavy, and passed as well as any in the kingdom.

Whether they are constituted by nature to endure hardships, or so long

confinement has got them wonted to live in prisons, I will not venture

to say; but they really seem easy under it, live well, and make money

to lay up.

They drink, sing and dance, talk of their women in the day-time, and,

like Horace, dream of them at night; but I have not heard of any issue

by this visionary connexion. But the Americans have not that careless

volatility, like the cockle in the fable, to sing and dance when their

house is on fire over them.

When any one has committed a crime, or becomes a nuisance among them,

he is condemned, and sent to No. 4, to remain during his captivity; so

the Americans must dwell among the damned.

On the twenty-eighth, a large corps of French prisoners, taken at the

battle near St. Sebastian, in Spain, arrived at this depot, and took

their abode among the other Frenchmen. At this time, a very mortal

distemper prevailed among the French prisoners, that carried off eight

or ten every day.

When any one dies in the hospital, his body is removed to the

dead-house, a place made for that purpose; after being stripped of

his clothes, shirt and all, (which go to the government, or the nurse

of the deceased,) the body is then opened, to learn the nature of the

disease; it is afterwards, quite naked, put into a coarse shell, made

of rough pine boards, and remains in the dead-house for several days,

till a number is collected in the same manner: when a sufficient number

is heaped together to call their attention, a large hole is dug back of

the prison, and all thrown in together, without form or ceremony.

The hospital department consists of a surgeon, two assistants, and as

many male nurses as are necessary. Every morning, at nine o’clock,

orders are given, by the ringing of bells, that every prisoner, wanting

relief or medical aid, must repair to the hospital to be examined, and

receive prescriptions; he then returns to the prison, where he remains

till carried in again.

The sickness among the Americans somewhat abated the latter end of this

month. Many entered the king’s service. As the recruiting officers

receive a premium on every soldier they enlist for his majesty, they

used every inducement in their power. An officer belonging to a Dutch

regiment, thought it a good opportunity to _mock de gildt_, entered

the yard, and began to solicit men to enlist into the regiments to go

against the United States; but the Americans took this the greatest

insult, that such a booby should think of getting _them_ to fight

against their country; they soon hustled Mynheer out of the yard, and

frustrated all his hopes of gain.

The majority of the prisoners used every means in their power to

prevent our countrymen from entering the enemy’s service. We often,

on discovering the intention of any one to enlist into their service,

fastened him up to the grating and flogged him severely, and threatened

to despatch them secretly if they did not desist; but attempts were

vain; they justified themselves on the plea of self-preservation; that

there was a possibility of escaping and saving their lives; and if

detected by their country, their death was distant, but here it was

speedy and certain.

Capt. Cotgrave, perceiving the great exertions that were made to

prevent any entering his majesty’s service, adopted a plan to encourage

it. When any one was known to be disposed that way, he would send him

a line, and invite him to come to the guard-house, where the other

prisoners could have no communication with him: here he was kept till

a number sufficient for a draft was collected, then sent to Plymouth,

and put on board a receiving ship, and received their bounty. About one

draft a month commonly took place.

_November._--The weather is much similar to that of the State of New

York at the same season; rain, snow, and hail, almost every day; the

prisoners without stockings, and many had been so unthoughtful of

the future as to sell their jackets to buy food; and the whole dress

allowed them was no more than sufficient in the most clement season,

the prisons being always damp, and the weather very rainy. We were

allowed no fuel; some had also sold their hammocks, blankets, and beds,

to the French. These thoughtless wretches were now obliged to sleep,

or rather lie, upon the stones the whole night, and when there happened

a fine day, which was seldom, it was with the greatest difficulty the

guards could rouse them from this stupor, and get them into the yard.

We dreaded the winter.

We received letters from our fellow-prisoners at other prisons,

informing us that they had applied to Mr. Beasley, and advising us to

do the same, which we had already done; they wished to be informed of

our situation; this was done in poetry.

The time had now expired for relieving the present guard; this being

done, its place was supplied by a Scotch regiment. Sympathy glowed

in the minds of these gallant fellows; no nobler act has nature done

than form the heart that feels for others’ woes. They felt for ours,

and though enemies, at the peril of life relieved them; it was an act

that superior beings might behold with admiration. Touched with this

tie of nature, when ordered to bring out every prisoner into the yard,

sick or naked, they often pitied him, gave him some relief, and left

him behind; though ordered to cut him down or run him through, if he

offered to remain.

They supplied us with late papers, and gave us all the account they

could of the affairs in America. They cheered us with the agreeable

account of the Essex, and her success in the South Seas: we had friends

that pitied us, though they could not greatly relieve us.

About this time a few prisoners from Plymouth, lately captured, and

lately from the States, arrived at this depot.

The news they bring of the success of the American arms, animates every

soul, and for a moment we forgot our troubles. By them the account of

the Boxer and Enterprise, the complete victory of Commodore Perry on

Lake Erie is given us, but no hope of exchange or prospect of peace. No

alteration in our treatment by government; the prisoners not permitted

out of yard No. 4. The French go any where through the several prisons;

go to market, but the Americans not permitted to. The government grew

more strict in their enlistments; they would receive none but regularly

bred sailors, and no invalids.

At the latter end of this month a great number of prisoners, taken

under the American flag, claimed a release from confinement, and showed

that they owed their allegiance by birth to powers in alliance with

Great Britain. To Holland, Sweden, and other places, and are released

on account of their neutrality.

Weather very cold all the month. The prisoners without shoes or

clothes, obliged to keep their hammock. Fewer deaths than the month

before. Yard covered with snow.

_December._--Cold increasing. Prisoners in despair. Capt. Cotgrave

ordered the prisoners to turn out every morning at the hour of nine,

and stand in the yard till the guards counted them; this generally

took more than an hour. Many of the prisoners were without stockings,

and some without shoes, and many without jackets. They cut up their

blankets to wrap up their feet and legs, that they might be able to

endure the cold and snow while they were going through this ceremony.

We complained to the captain of this practice, and told him it was too

severe for the prisoners to endure; he said it was his orders, and as

agent he must obey them. We reminded him of several instances that

must shock the heart of every feeling man, that he himself was knowing

to the day before. Several of these naked men, chilled, and benumbed

with cold, and being half starved, fell down lifeless in his presence,

and in presence of the guards and turnkeys. This was a cruelty which

exceeded murder in any shape whatever; to expose the naked helpless

prisoner to perish in the pitiless blast of this bleak mountain, was an

act that made our hearts recoil with horror.

We remonstrated with the infamous author, but all our supplications and

remonstrances were in vain; the wretch was inexorable; his feelings had

become callous by continuing so long among the sufferings of the French

prisoners. After these men fell down in the yard, they were taken up

and carried to the hospital, and with some difficulty were restored to

life again; they were then immediately sent back to prison, there to

lie on the stone floor without bed or covering.

At this treatment I presume the reader will not so much wonder that so

many died, as he will that any could live at all.

The name of Isaac Cotgrave, agent at Dartmoor, of cruel memory, will

ever be engraven, in odious characters, on the mind of every American

who witnessed his unparalleled cruelty.

On the 22d of this month the iron sceptre was wrested from his hand,

and placed beyond his reach. A new agent, Capt. Thos. G. Shortland,

at this time superseded Cotgrave. Shortland was a man whose feelings

had not yet grown callous by being familiarized with human misery,

and at his first arrival he was shocked at the scenes of our misery,

which presented themselves in every shape before him; touched with

compassion, he could not continue the cruel practice of counting over

the prisoners every morning in the yard. He countermanded the order

which his predecessor pretended to have been commanded to put in

force. He declared to us that he would do all in his power to procure

us some relief from his government; that he himself would do all he

could in his situation as agent, to assist us; he very politely and

kindly offered to forward to Mr. Beasley, or to the Congress of the

United States, any communication or petition which might procure us any

relief. He stated in feeling terms to the Board of Transport the real

condition of the American prisoners. He ordered the doctors’ assistants

to visit the persons daily, and to remove to the hospital all the sick

who had before been refused admittance. He granted permission for two

of the prisoners to attend the market each day, and purchase such

little necessary articles as they were able, such as soap, potatoes,

tobacco, &c.

These relaxations in the morning of his power seemed to promise a

bright day; but the noon began to grow a little obscure, and, we are

sorry to say, at last went down in blood, and left obscure the bright

traits of the morning.

The weather was incredibly cold upon this mountain; the moor, as far

as the eye could extend, was covered with frost and snow; the prison

walls, by being continually damp, had become like solid ice, and the

prisoners obliged to keep their hammocks, for being allowed no fire,

had no other means to keep themselves warm.

The rigor of treatment seemed somewhat relaxed; for our friendly

officers and Scotch guards gave us as much relief and consolation

as their station would permit, and we endeavored to cultivate their

friendship.

According to Capt. Shortland’s advice, and our own necessities, we

again made application to Mr. Beasley. In this letter we informed him

that we were fully of opinion that the United States would sanction

any reasonable overtures he should make to prevent her citizens from

starving or perishing for want in a foreign prison; that his being

agent for the United States was sufficient power, and he had a right

to pledge the credit of the United States, which was amply sufficient

to procure any sum requisite for our relief. We farther stated, in the

most unequivocal terms, that unless some relief was given us soon, that

the prisoners had come to a unanimous and final determination to offer

our services _en masse_ to the British government, and at the same time

transmit to the United States a copy of all letters from us to him, and

set forth to Congress all our reasons for so doing, which would most

undoubtedly cast all the blame on him.

This month ended with increased cold, and snow falling daily. The

prisoners did not go out of their hammocks, only at dinner, which was

the only meal they had.

_January, 1814._--The year commences with as cold weather as we ever

experienced in the city of New York; the buckets in the prison, in the

short space of four hours, froze ten or twelve quarts to a solid, and

the prisoners must inevitably have frozen, were not the hammocks placed

so near together as to communicate the animal heat from one man to

another.

The running stream that supplied the prison froze solid, and the

weather was allowed to be colder than it had been for fifty years

before.

On the 1st the snow was two feet on the level, and began to snow again;

the cold somewhat abated, and it continued snowing the greater part of

the time till the nineteenth; it had now got to be four feet on the

level, and the drifts in the yards as high as the prison walls (fifteen

feet), the water all frozen, and the prisoners obliged to eat snow for

drink. The guards were all obliged to leave the walls and retire to the

guard-house; no sentry on duty except in the barracks.

At midnight; this dreary night, eight prisoners, thinking to take

advantage of the night to make their escape, as no sentries were in

sight, formed a ladder, and with it ascended and descended the first

wall directly against the guard-house, and in ascending the second, the

soldiers in the guard-house discovered them, and apprehended seven; the

eighth got quite over the wall, and made his escape. These seven were

taken to the guard-house and there put into the black-hole, which is

the place for prisoners that attempt to make their escape: the weather

extremely cold, was likely to prove their last. But the fifth day they

were removed to the cachot, and remained on two-thirds allowance,

sleeping on straw for ten days. The prisoners, soldiers, and officers,

were now furnished with salt provisions, which are always kept at the

prison against any emergency of this kind. Every man upon the mountain

was now much alarmed, as only ten days’ stock of provision was in

reserve on the mountain, and there were now upwards of nine thousand

French and American prisoners, besides fifteen hundred soldiers and

officers, doctors, and a numerous train of turnkeys.

The prisoners' memoirs, or, Dartmoor prison · 第 14 / 49 题