America,
_Who departed this life July 8th, 1814_.
Under which was the following epitaph:
Your country mourns your hapless fate;
So mourn we prisoners all;
You’ve paid the debt we all must pay,
Each sailor, great and small.
Your body on this barren moor,--
Your soul in Heaven doth rest,
Where Yankee sailors, one and all,
Hereafter will be blest.
The agent permitted us to put this stone up, and of the many thousands
that lay indiscriminately mingled together upon this moor, this stone
recorded the only syllable of the dead buried here. The life of these
men is finely described in Holy Writ by the path of an arrow, which is
immediately closed up and lost.
We received our monthly pay as usual, and nothing remarkable occurred
during the remainder of the month; few persons arrived, but we had
expectation of a great number. The weather was rainy and cold; the
prisoners generally healthy; few died, but the prison was very much
crowded, there being 1,500 in No. 4.
At the commencement of August, a draft of prisoners arrived, who
had been recently captured on the coast of Europe, among whom were
four men lately belonging to the private armed schooner Surprise, of
Baltimore; these four men, on their first arrival at this depot, were
put into close confinement in the cachot, there to remain on two-thirds
allowance, without hammock or bed, sleeping on the stone floor, during
their whole imprisonment. When the cause of their confinement was
known, it seems it had grown out of the following circumstances:
The Surprise was cruising in the channel of England, and fell in with,
and captured, a schooner, and put on board her these four men, to take
charge of the prize.
Shortly after, the prize was recaptured by an English frigate, and,
after taking possession of her, found stowed away in the round-house
(which is a few feet above the deck) a cask of powder, which contained
but a few pounds at most, and on examination they found part of a match
and a candle; the captain of the frigate, being suspicious of these
four men’s having an intention to blow the vessel up, took them and
committed them to close confinement until he arrived in England; he
then reported them to the Board of Transport, and delivered them into
their custody, and they, from these suspicious circumstances, sentenced
them to the punishment above mentioned. Whether the crime, had it been
well proved, would warrant so rigorous a punishment, is not the subject
of investigation; they had the power to treat them as they pleased, nor
had the sufferers any redress, for, _inter armis lages silent_, “the
laws are silent amid arms.”
On the arrival of these prisoners, Capt. Shortland opened the south
yard of the enclosure, and gave all the officers liberty to go into No.
6. A few days after, a _habeas corpus ad testificandum_ was awarded to
bring forward six prisoners, to appear and give evidence in the cause
of Thomas Hill, then depending at the next Exeter assizes, who was
charged with manslaughter for killing James Henry on the third of July.
The termination of the trial, I shall give in a subsequent page.
The prisoners having no expectation or hope of exchange, or a peace,
now set about contriving a method of escape, something of which we
hinted at in a preceding page. The plan was to dig out of prison No. 6.
The plan was made known to the prisoners in No. 4, who were expecting
to be removed into No. 6 in a few days, when they would have access to
Nos. 5, 6, and 7, which were contained in one yard. To have the plan
circulated with the greatest secrecy that would obtain the opinion of
all the prisoners, without the suspicion of the guards or officers, it
was thought best to have it done in poetry, and accordingly it was done
in that manner. This attracted the attention of the prisoners, and we
soon found the intention of each man to favor the plan.
On the fifteenth of August, the six men whom we mentioned in the
preceding page, were taken to Exeter, returned, and with them Thomas
Hill, who was acquitted by the jury, and he remanded to Dartmoor as a
prisoner of war.
The same day arrived a large draft of prisoners, who had been sent from
Halifax prison on board the transport ship Bensen. These persons, on
their passage, attempted to rise and take the ship, in which attempt a
sharp contest ensued, and the struggle was for some time doubtful, but
the American prisoners were overpowered, and afterwards treated with
the greatest severity and cruelty. In the engagement several on both
sides were severely wounded, but none killed or mortally wounded. Some
of the prisoners were taken out and put on board the ship Commodore,
and the remainder confined in the coal-hole, and kept on bread and
water for several days.
These prisoners were put into No. 6, which now made about eight hundred
in that prison, and about twelve hundred in No. 4, who were not yet
removed.
We finding our number increasing daily, and no prospect of peace or
exchange, now determined to put in execution our projected plan of
escape; every prisoner being willing, and not a dissenting voice among
the whole, we mustered a number of bibles in each prison, and began to
solemnly swear every man to keep secret every transaction he should see
or know of concerning the operation then about to be begun; when a man
was sworn, he was strictly cautioned and charged not to make known,
by word or sign, in any way whatever, anything which might lead to a
discovery of their design, on pain of immediate death in a private
and secret manner, which would most assuredly take place without the
knowledge of the keepers.
After they were all sworn, and the fixed determination of hanging the
first informer, a number of confidential persons were appointed as
spies, to watch the conduct of others. We also appointed other trusty
men to watch the movements of the turnkeys and sentries, and see that
the prisoners held no conversation with either of them. We then divided
ourselves into parties to work, and who were alternately to dig and
relieve each other.
After taking a correct survey of the ground, measuring and making it
out, and taking the course, on the twentieth we made a beginning in
both prisons, and dug directly down. In this perpendicular direction we
must sink our work twenty feet, which would come on a horizontal plane
with the road. On this horizontal plane we must then pursue the work,
in an eastern direction, two hundred and fifty feet, which distance
would carry us beyond the outer wall and under all the foundations
which extended below the surface of the earth about six feet; if this
work were performed we should then have a passage into the road. The
digging could be carried on with very little difficulty: but the great
obstacle before us was to convey away the dirt, and this, on a little
consideration, seemed to vanish when we considered the stream of water
in the yard, which passed under the prison at the rate of four miles
an hour; into this stream we threw great quantities of fine dirt, which
passed off. We, as another means to get clear of the dirt, obtained
permission to bring into the prison a large quantity of lime, under the
pretence of white-washing the walls of the prison.
These walls were made of large rough stone, and every night we made
of the dirt a sort of morter, and plastered on the walls, and then
white-washed it over.
No. 5 prison containing no prisoners, and not being visited by the
keepers, we thought best to begin a similar operation in that prison,
as we could pass and repass into it unknown to the keepers. In this we
commenced digging in the day-time, and found a hollow place under the
prison to stow the dirt away.
In these three different places we made our attacks, and very rightly
supposing, that if one should be discovered, that we should still
have another, which we could proceed in without suspicion; we were
apprehensive that the run of water, which passed through an iron
grating at the outlet, might get stopped with the dirt, and lead to a
discovery. We hastened on the work, every man as busy as a bee, and
flushed with the hope and full belief that we should shortly make our
escape.
At the close of the month, we had dug toward the wall in a horizontal
direction forty feet, without the least suspicion. As we entered so
far under ground we found a want of fresh air, and to remedy this, we
contrived a lamp to keep burning in the hole, that would expel all the
axotic gas, or dead air, and bring in a constant supply of fresh.
I must digress for a moment, to give an account of some events which
took place during this operation.
In the meanwhile a number of prisoners arrived; some from Chatham, some
from the West Indies, and from other places. These, as soon as they
arrived, were made acquainted with our design and operations, and sworn
and charged as the others had been. Among these prisoners was the crew
of the United States brig Frolic. These prisoners were destitute of
clothing, and in a very bad state of health, which was occasioned by
being so very closely confined during the passage, and their allowance
so very short. During the month we had great quantities of rain, which
was very favorable to our operations. The prisoners were now more
healthy than they had been before since our confinement. Those who had
been sick for some time died. Those who had been here a long time had
become used to the hardships, but new comers were sickly.
On the last day of August, our subterraneous passage was sixty feet
from No. 5, and about the same from No. 6, and No. 4 nearly equal. The
dirt being very loose, and but few stones to obstruct our way, our
passage seemed short, and promised success.
September having commenced, and no suspicion or discovery as yet made,
although the prisons were searched every day by the keepers; but the
holes being very small, and so nicely closed every day, that it would
require the minutest search to discover the place; but the hole was
larger under ground, and would admit four men to work abreast.
But, to our great mortification, on the second, Capt. Shortland entered
the prison with the guards, and went directly towards the hole, and as
he passed, he informed us that he knew of our operations in No. 5, but
his informer had not told him correctly, for after a long search, they
could not discover the hole.
It was then suggested by his attendants to sound the prison; they then
began with crow-bars to sound, and after having made the minutest
examination, by accident found the entrance, to the great mortification
of every man.
They undertook to enter the hole, but after entering a few feet, their
lights went out, and they could not keep them burning; and being
unacquainted with the materials, and method used by us to light the
hole and expel the dead air, could not penetrate to the extent, nor did
they ever enter near all the distance.
They were no less astonished to conceive what had become of the dirt
taken from the passage, and it ever remained a great mystery to them.
Every man was strictly cautioned, should any discovery take place, not
to give any account whatever of the means they had made use of to light
the hole, or how they had disposed of the dirt; and when they were
strictly examined by the officers, they gave no other answer, than that
each man eat his proportion, to make up his scant allowance.
To prevent any further operation of this kind, Capt. Shortland had
every prisoner removed from the yard which encloses No. 5, 6, and 7,
into the enclosure on the north side, which contained No. 1, 2, and 3;
but having no suspicions of any attempts to escape in No. 4, they let
the prisoners there remain.
After the prisoners were removed from the other two prisons, they
filled the entrance of the hole up with stone: they supposed these were
not eatable.
We remained in No. 2 till the eighth, when we were again removed to
the south side, on account of prison No. 2 being out of repair. This
gave us fresh hopes. As the noise had not yet entirely got silent, we
thought best to stop all operations in No. 4 for the present.
In the mean while, our court of judicature was sitting, and several
persons were arraigned at the bar, and charged with having given
information of our design to escape; all the evidence against them was
produced, but the crime being of a capital nature by our laws, required
positive and direct evidence, which the court considered had not been
produced; and although very strong circumstantial evidence had been
given, yet they considered that such evidence ought never to take a
man’s life, which must have been the case had any one been found guilty.
We afterwards believed it must have been accidental; that some person
had spoken too loud, or in an unguarded manner in the presence of the
turnkeys; for we found no discovery had been made of the operations
in No. 4 or 5, although Capt. Shortland had declared himself to be
acquainted with them in No. 5.
After the bustle of the discovery had a little blown over, and the
officers and keepers had ridiculed the futile idea of our making our
escape, by saying they had guards and spies in all directions; we then
gave orders to the blacks in No. 4 to proceed on with their work. At
this time, the 10th, a draft of prisoners arrived from Chatham; these
were mostly men delivered up from ships of war in England, and some
few were sent from the West Indies, Bermuda, and New Providence.--This
draft increased the number of prisoners at this depot to three thousand
five hundred in all.
When these men arrived, we were under great apprehensions that they
would be ordered into No. 5, and in the hurry and bustle of entering,
before they were cautioned, might lead to a discovery of the work in
that prison; but happily, they were ordered into No. 7, and all the
white prisoners from No. 4 ordered in with them; and all the blacks
were now to be kept by themselves.
They were directed to proceed as we mentioned before, and to report
progress every evening. As the hole in No. 6 was farthest advanced, we
formed a communication to let each other know their progress each day,
that all the holes might proceed with equal progress, and come out at
the same time.
With this arrangement we proceeded on, and on the 12th, in No. 6, we
dug down, and the next day had gone quite round the stones which were
thrown in to fill up the entrance of the hole, and came out into the
former passage: this was done in the night, and in the day time we
carried on the work in No. 5, disposing of the dirt as before.
The work went on with the greatest care, secrecy and success, and every
man was animated with the liveliest hope of soon gaining his liberty,
till each hole had come within thirty-five or forty feet of the
intended place of coming out.
We could always ascertain the distance we were from the top of the
ground by measuring with our line and rule, and had concluded to work
that distance in one week: every man was now provided with a dagger,
made by prisoners who worked at black-smithing.
When the work was complete, we were to make our move some dark stormy
night at the hour of ten, which would give every man who wished, an
opportunity to reach Torbay, about ten miles distant, at which place
lay a large number of unarmed vessels, fishing boats and other small
craft; we could reach this place a little after midnight, and then
proceed as fast as possible for France; on leaving the outlet of the
passage every man was to separate and take care of himself. When we
were once out, we had determined to reach France or sell our lives at
the dearest rate; for, by this time, life was of little consequence to
us, when we compared it to the miseries we must suffer, if we should
be brought back, and therefore we were determined to hazard it at all
events.
But I hasten from our future resolutions to relieve the reader from his
anxiety, by showing the event.
At this moment, when every man was well pleased with the prospect, how
was his just indignation raised, and his fierce anger kindled!--a man
by the name of [1]Bagley, another Sinon, walked out in the open day,
before all the prisoners then in the yard, went up to the turnkeys and
marched off with them to the keeper’s house, gave him information of
all the operations and designs, and we never saw him after; for could
we have catched him, we should scarcely have tried him, but should
have torn him in atoms before the life could have time to leave his
traitorous body.
This Judas received the price of his iniquity from the Transport Board,
and got a passport to go where he pleased, and the public’s humble
servant put into the cachot;--but I can tell him, should this work ever
reach his infamous hand, that it is the sincere wish of every prisoner,
that he may fall, and like that other Judas, his bowels may gush out.
The prisoners were then immediately removed to the north side of the
enclosure, and confined to No. 1 and 3; and to repair the damages which
had been done to the prisons, Capt. Shortland put every man on two
thirds allowance, and took the other third to pay expenses of repair;
this he did for ten days successively; if we had eaten the dirt up, we
had to starve it back again.
Our hopes were all blown up to the moon, and we left to despair; we
had no prospect by which we could hope to be relieved, but every thing
seemed to threaten us with imprisonment for life. We again resigned
ourselves to our situation, and placed all our hopes of life and
liberty on that Almighty arm, which had brought us to these sufferings
by His Divine pleasure. Every man with reluctance now returns to his
usual occupation, hoping to gain a few articles of clothing, which he
stood in need of. The shoes furnished by Mr. Beasley, which were the
poorest that could be made in England, were now worn out, and we needed
others.
It was reported among the prisoners, that an exchange was about to take
place; but as we had no account to that effect from Mr. Beasley, we
could place no dependence on it; the only hope we had was bribing the
guards, and that of peace.
By letters from Plymouth, we had information that an action had been
fought between the Essex, Capt. Porter, and the British frigate Phebe,
Capt. Hillyar, and a sloop of war. The action was long and severe, and
much blood spilt on both sides; and although the Essex was taken, the
honour of the day belonged to the Americans. She fought under every
disadvantage, and gallantly stood the fire of both the enemy’s vessels,
and bore hard for a victory, till chance decided against her. The
magnanimity of the officers and crew commands the noblest sentiments of
respect from every American; they deserved no common meed of praise; I
therefore undertook to celebrate their valorous deeds in verse.
A large draft of prisoners, from Chatham, arrived at this place the
latter end of this month; among them were great numbers of men who
had been detained on board His Majesty’s ships from eight to twelve
years, and one who had been detained eighteen years. The greatest part
of this draft were men who had been delivered up from the navy; they
were collected at Chatham, and brought round by water to Plymouth,
landed, and then ordered to prepare to march for Dartmoor prison, the
sufferings of which they had long been acquainted with, by report; but
previous to their departure, they, anticipating their treatment there,
prepared the following motto, in capitals, and fixed it to the fore
part of their hats: “_British gratitude for past services_.” With this
on their hats, they marched the distance of eighteen miles. During the
march, the officers tried every means to persuade them to take it off,
but they absolutely refused, saying it was truth, and, as prisoners of
war, they had a just cause to complain of the treatment and ingratitude
of a government which they had so long served. They insisted that it
was cruelty to make them prisoners, after they had served so many years
as good and faithful servants; and it was much more ungrateful now to
send them to the worst prison in England, as a compensation for their
long and faithful services.
The garrison was now reinforced by a large number of soldiers, and the
prisoners separated; the whites in the north and south wing, occupying
two prisons in each yard, and the blacks one in the centre. The
prisoners were not permitted to have intercourse with one another from
the different prisons, except on Sundays.
The number being now very large, it was feared they would rise, and
take possession of the guard-house, and then make their escape. They
had some ground to fear the event might take place, for the prisoners
did not consider these walls, nor the soldiers, any very great obstacle
in the accomplishment of such an undertaking, had it been their design.
But they knew very well the consequence of doing this; although, on
the first _sortie_, the officers, soldiers and guards, must fall into
their power, yet as the prisoners must all march in a body to keep them
under, the alarm would spread over all England, and the militia be
raised upon them, before they would be able to reach the sea-coast and
take shipping.
Capt. Shortland was in daily fear of such an attack, for there was
scarce a day but some dispute or strife took place between the turnkeys
or guards and the prisoners, and kept a continual alarm. The prisoners
would not hear any abusive language against the President of the
United States; and on the first disrespectful word from a sentry,
stationed singly in the yard, they would knock him down, and he could
get no relief till they were willing to release him, for the prisoners
immediately surrounded him by hundreds; and the garrison declared that
they had more trouble with four thousand Americans than they should
have with twenty thousand Frenchmen.
On the last day of this month, another draft arrived, among whom were
the crew of the United States brig Rattlesnake and some others, sent
from Halifax.
The prisoners became sickly again, and upwards of one hundred in the
hospital; but they had much better attendance than before, having now
a new surgeon, Dr. Magrath, to superintend that department; he was
a humane, skilful and attentive man, and a friend to the sick and
distressed prisoner. I know of nothing more agreeable to the human
feelings than the presence of a friend by our sick-bed; and this man
administered more of the medicine of life by the sympathetic emotions
of his heart than all the anodynes in the apothecary’s shop.
We had much rain and stormy weather during the month of September.
One tedious month had now passed by, and another lay in hopeless
prospect before us; but our hopes were a little revived on the second
of October by a letter which we received from Mr. Beasley, informing
us that a partial exchange would take place between the two countries.
This exchange would extend to none but those taken in the United
States vessels; this letter was to inform the crew of the Argus more
particularly, as they were the oldest prisoners taken in the United
States service. The same letter gave general information that there was
great prospects of a speedy peace between the two belligerants.
_Several persons made their escape by bribing the sentries after this
news_, and passing out in the night, with a soldier’s coat and cap on,
under his protection. But this method was discovered and stopped, and
eight only were able to make their escape by it.
We received the account of the United States ship Wasp sinking the
Reindeer and Avon. The particulars seemed too galling to their feelings
to publish. After reading the account in the London paper, I composed a
dirge, and put it up on the front of the prison, in full sight of all
the soldier-officers and guards, as a tribute of respect to departed
worthies of His Majesty’s navy.
Almost every draft of prisoners brought intelligence of new victories
of the Americans by sea, and every British paper was filled with
complaints of American privateers destroying British property in their
own waters, and in sight of their cities. The prisoners, being animated
with the success of the arms of their country, could not forbear
expressing their joy in some pleasant feat. The following anecdote
has something of the features of the attack of Don Quixotte on the
wind-mill. The prisoners, the night after the news of the Wasp, took
a jacket at twelve at night, lowered it down towards the ground along
the rope of the prison; the soldiers saw it, and concluded it must be a
man sliding down the rope to make his escape; the alarm was given, and
Capt. Shortland and all the soldier-officers at the head of the picket,
entered, and hailed the man on the rope, but no answer; they then
drew themselves up in martial array, and every man sat his teeth and
screwed his courage up to the sticking place, ready for battle; Capt.
Shortland, an experienced officer, gave orders to fire, and instantly
a volley of musketry was poured in upon the enemy, and down came the
jacket; they rushed in upon it, and, to their astonishment, they had
conquered a jacket.
The keepers who had been so insolent the day before, by wishing Mr.
Madison in the prison, now showed great resentment, and gave themselves
many airs upon the occasion. The soldiers discovered a candle burning
in the prison, and called aloud, “put out that candle;” but the order
not being instantly obeyed, they discharged a volley through the
window; but a divine interposition of goodness seemed to direct the
balls, for every one lodged in some part of the hammocks, which almost
formed a solid column, and not a single man hurt or touched, though
asleep in the hammocks. The next morning I thought the battle with
the jacket and the attack on the sleeping prisoners deserved to be
celebrated in some signal way, and sung like the deeds of the gallant
Quixotte.
It had been remarked by the prisoners that, about the time of some
reverse of the arms of the enemy, the keepers treated them with much
greater severity, and seemed to wish to wreak their vengeance in
retaliation on the prisoners.
On the eighteenth, orders, together with a list of names, came to
discharge sixty-two of the crew of the late United States brig Frolic,
who had been exchanged, and were to repair immediately to Dartmouth,
thirty miles from the depot, to go on board the cartel Janey, then
lying at that place with the greater part of her number, which
consisted of prisoners late belonging to the United States navy and
army.
Those sixty-two of the Frolic were obliged to carry the baggage
themselves or leave it behind, for they were allowed no means to
transport it. Twelve miles of the distance is water carriage; the
other eighteen is land--this distance they had to march on foot;
they received a shilling each man, and one day’s provision, at the
commencement of the journey.
By letters from Plymouth, we received intelligence that another cartel,
the St. Philip, was preparing to take on board part of her complement
at that place, then to proceed to Dartmouth, and receive the crew of
the late United States brig Argus, and her officers, and non-combatants
from Ashburton. The same letters informed us that all the prisoners in
England, then nearly five thousand, would shortly be removed to this
prison; and, accordingly, at the latter end of this month they all were
removed to this depot, and made, with some few lately from sea, five
thousand and twenty. They were badly prepared to stand the inclemency
of the approaching season; they were all miserably clothed, and the
shoes they had received from Mr. Beasley lasted but a few weeks, and
they were now quite destitute and very sickly, and the weather cold
and stormy for several days together. On the third we received a
letter from Mr. Beasley, informing us that his clerk, Mr. Williams,
was on his way from London to this place with clothing, which he would
distribute among the prisoners captured since the middle of last May,
and to those captured before that date he would deliver one shirt and
one pair of shoes and stockings, which should be their supply for
nine months. The old prisoners stated their situation to Mr. Beasley,
by letter, at the same date, and informed him that they were in need
of clothing; that what they received in May was worn out, also their
shoes, and that they were not supplied with sufficient bedding to make
them any way comfortable through the approaching winter, especially
as they were sickly, and had the small-pox in the prison, and that
they should not be able to endure the hardships of their condition,
though their two and a half pence a day was some relief; yet as all
the workmen were turned into prison, and not permitted to go out any
more on account of one man, whom we believe to be Capt. Swain, of New
Bedford, Massachusetts, taking a very sudden move and leaving the whole
establishment without giving notice; this left them unprovided with
sufficient means to take care of themselves.
Now the surly blasts of chill November had made all surrounding nature
wear the sad aspect of decay, and the barefooted prisoner stood
shivering by the walls, in the pale and feeble ray of a winter sun,
when Mr. Williams arrived with the clothing, as was expected, and on
the third saw the crew of the Argus take their departure from this
prison, to go on board the St. Philip, then lying at Dartmouth, bound
for the United States. The draft of this crew consisted of one hundred,
which was all that was taken from this place; she had previously taken
in her complement, except this number, at Chatham. Shortly after her
sailing from Dartmouth she was so unfortunate as to spring her mast,
and obliged to return into port.
At this time the Phebe and the late United States frigate Essex arrived
in England. The editors who published the arrival of these two ships,
made no remark or observation whatever, only barely said they had
arrived.
The reader will not have forgotten the circumstance of the four men,
whom we mentioned were committed to close confinement during the war,
on suspicion of an intention to blow up the ship. We, at this time,
made application to the Board of Transport, to mitigate the punishment
of these four men, late of the Surprise, and who had remained ever
since in close confinement in the cachot, but our petition was not
granted; the board said the sentence had passed and could not be
recalled--they must suffer according to the sentence. These poor
fellows had endured the three months imprisonment with a magnanimity
becoming Americans. The prisoners seeing they could not get them
relieved, agreed to allow them a halfpenny a month out of every man’s
pay, which was cheerfully done by every man. They supplied them with
such articles as the board would allow them to have.
Our hope now brightened amidst the clouds of sufferings and despair,
by the reports from Ghent of a speedy peace, which swelled every London
paper.
The guards, both officers and soldiers, stationed here, were much
disaffected with the government of the country; and informed us that
the military through the whole kingdom had the same disaffection, and
that they had gone so far as to inform the government, in direct terms,
that if a peace did not take place before the first of April, that they
would lay down their arms.
The battle and destruction of Washington had now crossed the Atlantic,
and was sounding with great applause to the British arms; every paper
was swelled with the most pompous description of the great battle,
and the unparalleled bravery and magnanimity of their officers and
soldiers, that had defeated and drove the whole American army, headed
by Mr. Madison in person, and that they were in so close pursuit of him
that he had a severe race all the way from Bladensburgh to Washington,
which they were disposed to ridicule by comparing to John Gilpin’s
celebrated race.
They also gave a description of Washington, which they declared was
one of the greatest cities in the known world; the grandeur and
magnificence of it surpassed that of Paris or London; it contained
thirteen hundred spacious squares. But they did not mention that those
squares contained no houses or inhabitants.
These stories could not gain the belief of persons acquainted with the
American nation and its capitol, but we were led to believe that the
conduct on both sides deserved much censure, and that the burning of
that capitol was a disgrace to both nations.
Nothing very material occurred among the prisoners this month; they
received their monthly pay as usual, but were more sickly, and the
weather cold and tedious, but could not be compared with the November
before. The prisoners, though far from being as comfortable as they
ought to be, suffered much less, and were in a better condition to
endure the hardships of a prison than the year before, now they were
supplied with one pair of shoes and stockings, and allowed two and a
half pence per day. They did not shrink at the approaching season so
much as before.
Mr. Williams returned to London at the end of the month; he had
been with us all the month, distributing the several articles above
mentioned.
As the season advanced the hard weather increased, and the snow fell in
great abundance in the beginning of December, and the prisoners, much
chilled with the cold, applied for permission to keep fire, as had been
permitted to the French prisoners, but were peremptorily refused and
absolutely forbid.
But to make the best of these evils of life, they applied themselves
every man to some occupation; they endeavored to cherish and keep the
mind alive if the body decayed, and to cultivate that nobler part of
our being, they established a number of schools, and the young men and
boys were instructed in them for nearly two years, and many of them,
who were perfectly unacquainted with letters when they came to this
prison, had acquired a tolerable education in the English branches of
science.
There has, from the earliest ages of antiquity, been frequent instances
of men who have been weary of life, and had not the courage and
fortitude to bear those ills which are incident to it, and have,
therefore, by a sort of false heroism, attempted to avoid them by
destroying their own life. The Stoic philosophy, which seemed to be
a cultivated degree of insensibility, encouraged it, and called it
heroism; but the act is cowardly, and a great offence against the laws
of God and man.
I have thought proper to premise these observations, before I related
the melancholy instance of a young man, a native of the city of New
York, by the name of John Taylor, who put an end to his life on the
first of this month, by hanging himself, in prison No. 5.
By the position in which he was found in the morning, he must have been
all intent on death; he had fastened himself to one of the stantions
so that his toes could just touch the floor. We knew of no other cause
than that despair had given him less courage to live than to die.
Thinking it might tend to deter others from following the example of
this unhappy victim of despair, I procured a large slate, and engraved
on it the following inscription, which I put at the head of his grave,
where it remains on the moor: