A
JOURNAL,
OF
A YOUNG MAN OF MASSACHUSETTS,

LATE

A SURGEON ON BOARD AN AMERICAN PRIVATEER,

WHO WAS CAPTURED AT SEA BY THE BRITISH, IN MAY, EIGHTEEN HUNDRED
AND THIRTEEN, AND WAS CONFINED FIRST,

AT MELVILLE ISLAND, HALIFAX, THEN AT CHATHAM,
IN ENGLAND ... AND LAST,

AT DARTMOOR PRISON.

INTERSPERSED WITH

OBSERVATIONS, ANECDOTES AND REMARKS,

TENDING TO ILLUSTRATE THE MORAL AND POLITICAL CHARACTERS
OF THREE NATIONS.

TO WHICH IS ADDED,

A CORRECT ENGRAVING OF DARTMOOR PRISON,

REPRESENTING THE MASSACRE OF AMERICAN PRISONERS,

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

"Nothing extenuate, or set down aught in malice."... SHAKESPEARE.

THE SECOND EDITION,
With considerable Additions and Improvements.

BOSTON:
PRINTED BY ROWE & HOOPER ... 78 STATE-STREET,

1816.

District of Massachusetts, to wit:

District Clerk's Office.

(L. S.)Be it remembered, that on the sixth day of March, A. D. 1816, and in the fortieth year of the Independence of the United States of America, Rowe & Hooper, of the said District have deposited in this Office, the title of a book, the right whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the words following, to wit:

"A Journal of a Young Man of Massachusetts, late a Surgeon on board an American privateer, who was captured at sea by the British, in May, eighteen hundred and thirteen, and was confined first, at Melville Island, Halifax, then at Chatham, in England, and last at Dartmoor Prison. Interspersed with Observations, Anecdotes and Remarks, tending to illustrate the moral and political characters of three nations. To which is added, a correct Engraving of Dartmoor Prison, representing the Massacre of American prisoners. Written by himself." "Nothing extenuate, or set down aught in malice."... Shakespeare.

In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled "An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies, during the times therein mentioned;" and also to an Act entitled, "An Act supplementary to an Act, entitled an Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned; and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving and etching, historical, and other prints."

Wm. S. SHAW,
Clerk of the District of Massachusetts.

TO

THE COMMON SENSE,

AND

HUMANE FEELINGS

OF THE PEOPLE OF AMERICA,

THIS JOURNAL IS INSCRIBED,

BY A LATE

PRISONER OF WAR

WITH THE BRITISH.

A JOURNAL OF A YOUNG MAN OF MASSACHUSETTS

In December 1812, I found a schooner fitting out of Salem as a privateer. She had only four carriage guns and ninety men. By the fifth of January, 1813, she was ready to sail and only wanted some young man to go as assistant surgeon of her. The offer was made to me, when without much reflection or consultation of friends, I stepped on board her in that capacity, with no other ideas than that of a pleasant cruise and making a fortune. With this in view we steered for the coast of Brazil, which we reached about the first of February.

Our first land-fall was not the most judicious, for we made the coast in the night, and in the morning found ourselves surrounded with breakers. Fortunately for us a Portuguese schooner was outside of us, and we hoisted out our boat and went on board her and received from her commander and officers directions for clearing ourselves from these dangerous breakers. We were then about sixty miles below Cape St. Roque. The captain of the Portuguese vessel kindly informed us where to get water, in a bay then before us. We had English colours flying, and all this time passed for a British vessel.

In a few hours we cast anchor in the bay, when our Captain went on shore and when he had discovered the watering place he returned on board, and sent his water casks to be filled; but the inhabitants collected around our men, and shewed, by their gestures and grimaces, a disposition to drive us away. It is probable that they only wanted to make us pay for the water; for it is the way of all the inhabitants of the sea shores every where to profit by the distresses of those who are cast upon them. But pretending not to understand them, we got what water was necessary.

The next day a Portuguese ship of war came into the bay, on which we thought it prudent to haul off, as we thought it not so easy to impose on a public ship as on a private one, with our English colours and uniform. In beating up to Pernambuco, we spoke with vessels every day, but they were all Portuguese. When near to St. Salvadore, we were in great danger of being captured by a British frigate, which we mistook for a large merchantman, until she came within half musket shot of us; but, luckily for us, it died away calm, when we out with our oars, which seamen call sweeps, and in spite of their round and grape shot, we got clear of her without any serious injury.

We would remark here, that sailors have a dialect of their own, and a phraseology by themselves. Instead of right side, and left side, they say starboard and larboard. To tie a rope fast, is to belay it. To lower down a sail, or to pull down a colour, is to dowse it; and so of many other things. These peculiar phrases have been adopted from the Dutch, and from the Danes: nations from whom the English learnt navigation. We may occasionally use some of these terms, when it cannot well be avoided.

Our captain was not an American, neither was he an Englishman. He was a little bit of a man, of a swarthy complexion, and did not weigh perhaps more than an hundred pounds by the scale. During the firing, our little man stood upon the taffrail, swung his sword, d—d the English, and praised his own men. He had been long enough in the United States to acquire property and information, and credit enough to command a schooner of four guns and ninety men. The crew considered him a brave man, and a good sailor, but not over generous in his disposition. Whether the following is a proof of it, I cannot determine.

He allowed the crew but one gill of New England rum per day, which they thought an under dose for a Yankee. They contended for more, but he refused it. They expostulated, and he remained obstinate; when at length they one and all declared that they would not touch a rope unless he agreed to double the allowance to half a pint. The captain was a very abstemious man himself, and being very small in person, he did not consider that a man four times as big required twice as much rum to keep his sluggish frame in the same degree of good spirits. He held out against his crew for two days, during which time they never one of them so much as lifted a spun-yarn. The weather was, be sure, very mild and pleasant. I confess, however, that I was very uneasy, under the idea that we might all perish, from the obstinacy of the crew, on one side, and the firmness of the little man on the other. Our captain found that his government was democratical; and perceiving that the weather was about to change, he conceded to the large and fearful majority; and New England spirit carried the day against a temperate European commander.

This habit of rum drinking makes a striking difference between the military of ancient and modern days. If a Roman soldier, or a Carthagenian sailor, had his clothing, his meat, and his bread, and his vinegar, he was contented, and rarely was guilty of mutiny. But the modern soldier and sailor must, in addition to these, have his rum, or brandy, and his tobacco; deprive him of these two articles, which are neither food nor clothing, and he infallibly mutinies: that is, he runs the risk of the severest punishment, even that of death, rather than renounce these modern luxuries. I have observed among sailors, that they bear the deprivation of rum with more patience than the deprivation of tobacco. On granting the crew half a pint of rum a day, they gave three cheers, and went to work with the greatest cheerfulness and alacrity.

The Americans, I believe, drink more spirits than the same class of people in England. The labouring people, and sailors, cannot get it in Britain. A soldier whose regiment was quartered in Boston, just before the revolution, held up his bottle to one of the new comers, and exclaimed, "Here is a country for you, by J—s; I have been drunk once to-day, and have got enough left to be drunk again: and all for six coppers!" What they then called coppers, we now call cents, and the Londoners hap-pennies.

The next day we descried three sail steering for St. Salvadore. We gave chase to them; but when we came within gun shot of the stern most, she fired her stern chasers at us. We brought our four guns on one side, to attack, or to defend, as we should find ourselves circumstanced; but night coming on, we saw no more of them.

Our water becoming short, we determined to gain our former watering place; but not being able to reach it easily, we anchored off a little settlement, twenty miles distant from the place where we watered before. Here our captain put on a British uniform, and waited on the commandant of the place who, although he treated him with politeness, gave evident suspicions that he was not an English officer. To prevent the awkward consequences of a detection, our captain promised to send off a barrel of hams, and a keg of butter. Under the expectation of the fulfilment of this rather rash promise, our crafty commander returned to his vessel, and left the place very early next morning.

It was now the middle of March, and we had taken nothing; neither had we fired our cannon, excepting at a miserable sort of a half boat and half raft, called a catamaran: made of five light logs, with a triangular sail. From the men on this miserable vessel we got information of a good watering place, where we soon anchored. The commandant of this little settlement was of the colour of our North American Indians, and so were his family, but the rest were nearly as black as negroes. He lived in a house covered and worked in with long grass; he offered us snuff out of a box tipped with silver, but every thing else looked very rude and simple. While we were getting our water, the females hovered round us. They had long, black, and shining hair, and wore a long white cotton garment, like a shirt or shift. They seemed to admire our complexions. One of these women, more forward than the rest, opened the bosom of one of our fairest young men, to see if his body was as white as his face. She appeared to be highly amused with the discovery, and called her companions to come and view the phenomenon. He shewed a similar curiosity as it concerned her, but she shrunk from it with the apparent delicacy of polished life, before so many men. The colour of these merry girls was that of the inside of a new leather shoe.

Just as we were about embarking, the commandant told our captain that he had just received a message from the commandant of Gomora, to seize him and all his crew and send them to Pernambuco, but that he should not obey him. We now set sail for the United States, and had not been at sea long before we were chased by a frigate, but out sailed her.

On the 20th of May we made Gay Head, which is the shining remains of an extinguished volcano, on the west end of Martha's Vineyard. The next morning we discovered a ship and a brig standing for us. We tacked and stood for the ship until we found that she was a man of war, and then we wore round for the brig, she being nearest of our own size. We now, for the first time, hoisted American colours, when the brig gave us a broadside, and kept up a constant fire upon us; but we soon left her by our superior sailing and management. The frigate, for such she proved to be, was not so easily got rid of. She was to the windward of us when we first saw her; and she came within gun shot about noon. She firing her bow-chasers, and we our stern-chasers. At length she came almost within musket shot of us, when she fired repeated broadsides into our little schooner, so as to cut away almost all our rigging, when our brave little captain went down below, after telling the men "to fight it out;" but they prudently struck their colours. A boat soon came on board of us with a lieutenant and twelve marines, swearing most bravely at the d—d Yankees. The name Yankee is used with pride by an American sailor or soldier; but with derision by the British. But as our men had, according to custom, when a vessel surrenders, seized whatever casks of liquor they could come at, soon filled out a few horns of gin, and passed it round among the marines, which inspired them with good nature, and for a moment they seemed "all hale fellows well met." The boarding officer did not appear to be so intent in securing the vessel, as in searching every hole and corner for small articles to pocket. The Americans disdain this dishonourable practice. The officers and crews of our men of war have never soiled their characters by taking from their enemies the contents of their chests and pockets, as the commanders of the British frigates, whom we have captured, can testify. We were soon ordered on board of his Britannic Majesty's ship the Tenedos, captain Parker.

I had always entertained a respectable opinion of the British, especially of their national marine. I had read British history, and listened to British songs, and had heard from my childhood of the superior bravery and generosity of the British sailor, and had entertained a real respect for their character; and being of a family denominated federalists, I may be said to have entered the frigate Tenedos, captain Parker, with feelings and expectations very different from what I should have felt, had we been at war with the French, and had it been a frigate of that nation that had captured us. The French are a people marked by nature, as well as by customs and habits, a different nation from us. Their language is different, their religion is different, and so are their manners. All those things have conspired in making a wall of separation between us and that lively people. But it is not so with the English. Our language, religion, customs, habits, manners, institutions: and above all, books have united to make us feel as if we were but children of the same great family, only divided by the Atlantic ocean. All these things have a natural and habitual tendency to unite us; and nothing but the unfeeling and contemptuous treatment of us by the British military generally, could have separated us. With all these feelings and partialities about me, I went from our schooner over the side of the British frigate with different feelings from what I should, had I been going on board an enemy's ship of the French, Spanish, or Portuguese nation. But what was my change of feelings, on being driven with the rest all up in a corner like hogs, and then marched about the deck, for the strutting captain of the frigate to view and review us; like cattle in a market, before the drover or butcher.

When our baggage was brought on board, the master of arms took every portable article from us, not leaving us a jack-knife, pen-knife, or razor. We Americans never conduct so towards British prisoners. We always respect the private articles of the officer and sailor.

On the same day we were put on board the brig Curlew, lieutenant Head, a polite and humane gentleman, and much beloved by his own crew. He is, I am informed, son of an English baronet. He is a plain, honest man, with easy, elegant manners, and very unlike the sputtering commander of the Tenedos: a man who allowed us to be stripped of all our little pocket articles: not much to the honour of his commission, or credit of his nation. We were kept very close while on board the Curlew, because her crew was very weak, principally decrepid old men and boys; but then we were kindly spoken to, and respectfully and humanely treated by lieutenant Head, and his worthy surgeon. We can discover real gentlemen at sea as well as on shore.

We were landed in Halifax, the principal British port of North America, and the capital of Nova Scotia, on the 29th of May, 1813. We were soon surrounded by soldiers, and being joined by a number of our countrymen, recently captured, we were attempted to be marshalled and paraded in military order, so as to make as grand a show as possible, while marching through the streets to prison. The first thing they did was to make us stand in platoons, and then the commanding officer stationed a soldier on the flanks of each platoon to keep us regular, and to march and wheel according to rule. The word was then given to march, when we all ran up together just as we were when the strutting captain Parker reviewed us on the deck of the Tenedos. We were then commanded to halt. As we have no such word of command on board of an American privateer, some crowded on, while a few stopped. The young officer tried again, and made us stand all in a row. Some of the crew told their comrades that when the captain sung out "halt," he meant "avast," and that then they should all stop. When we were all in order again, the scarlet-coated young gentleman, with a golden swab on his left shoulder, gave a second time the word of command, "march;" by which word we all understood he meant, "to heave a head," when we got into the like confusion again, when he cried out in a swearing passion, "halt," on which some stopped short, and some walked on, when the whole squad burst out a laughing. I know not what would have been the consequence of his ridiculous passion had not a navy officer, standing by, observed to him, that they were not soldiers but sailors, who knew nothing about military marching, or military words of command, when the young man told us to march on in our own way; upon which our sailors stuck their fists in their pockets, and scrabbled and reeled on as sailors always do; for a sailor does not know how to walk like a landsman. On which account I have been informed, since my return from captivity, that all our seamen, that were sent from Boston to Sackett's harbour, on Lake Ontario, were transported in coaches with four horses, chartered for the express purpose; and that it was common, for many weeks together, to see a dozen of the large stage coaches, setting out from Boston in a morning, full of sailors going up to the lakes, to man the fleets of commodores Perry, Chauncey and M'Donough. The former of these commanders told the writer, that he never allowed a sailor destined for his squadron to walk a single day. These merry fellows used to ride through the country with their colors, and streamers and music, and heaving the lead amidst the acclamations of the country people, who delight in a sailor and in a ship. While these things were thus conducted in New-England, the people of Old England were simple enough to believe that the war with England was unpopular. They judged of us by our party newspapers.

The soldiers marched us about two miles, when we came to the spot, where we were to take boat for Melville Island, the place of our imprisonment. When we arrived at the gates of the prison, hammocks and blankets were served out to us, as our names were called over. We were then ordered into the prison yard. And here I must remark, that I shall never forget the first impression, which the sight of my wretched looking countrymen made on my feelings. Here we were, at once, surrounded by a ragged set of quidnuncs, eagerly inquiring What news? where we were taken? and how? and what success we had met with before we were taken? and every possible question, for American curiosity to put to a promiscuous set of new comers.

After satisfying these brave fellows, who felt an uncommon interest in the events of the war, and the news of the day, I had time to notice the various occupations of these poor fellows. Some were washing their own clothes; others mending them. Others were intent on ridding their shirts and other clothing from lice, which, to the disgrace of the British government, are allowed to infest our prisoners. It may, in part, be owing to the nastiness and negligence of the prisoners themselves, but the great fault and the disgrace, remain with the British. Whoever could say that criminals, confined in our state prisons, were infested with vermin?—Were our prison ships in Boston or Salem ever known to be lousy? Shame on, you Britons!

The buildings on Melville Island are constructed of wood. Beside the prison, there is a cooking house, barracks for soldiers, and a store-house; a house for the officers, and another for the surgeon. There are a couple of cannon pointing towards the prison; and a telegraph, for the purpose of giving intelligence to the fort, which overlooks this island and the town of Halifax. These buildings are painted red, and have upon the whole, a neat appearance. The prison itself is two hundred feet in length, and fifty in breadth. It is two stories high; the upper one is for officers, and for the infirmary and dispensary; while the lower part is divided into two prisons, one for the French, the other for Americans. The prison yard is little more than an acre—the whole island being little more than five acres. It is connected on the south side with the main land by a bridge. The parade, so called, is between the turnkey's house and the barracks. From all which it may be gathered that Melville Island is a very humble garrison, and a very dreary spot for the officer who commands there.

The view from the prison exhibits a range of dreary hills. On the northern side are a few scattered dwellings, and some attempts at cultivation; on the southern nothing appears but immense piles of rocks, with bushes, scattered here and there in their hollows and crevices; if their summer appearance conveys the idea of barrenness, their winter appearance must be dreadful in this region of almost everlasting frost and snow. This unfruitful country is rightly named New Scotland.—Barren and unfruitful as old Scotland is, our Nova Scotia is worse. If Churchill were alive, what might he not say of this rude and unfinished part of creation, that glories in the name of "New Scotland?" The picture would here be complete if it were set off with here and there a meagre and dried up highlander, without shoes, stockings or breeches, with a ragged plaid, a little blue flat bonnet, sitting on a bleak rock playing a bag-pipe, and singing the glories of a country that never was conquered! To finish the picture, you have only to imagine a dozen more ragged, raw-boned Scotchmen, sitting on the bare rocks around the piper, knitting stockings to send to England and America, where they can afford to wear them. Such is Scotia, old and new, whose sons are remarkable for their inveterate hatred of the Americans, as we shall see in the course of this narrative.

As to the inside of the prison at Melville Island, if the American reader expects to hear it represented as a place resembling the large prisons for criminals in the United States, such as those at Boston, Charlestown, New York, or Philadelphia, he will be sadly disappointed. Some of these prisons are as clean and nearly as comfortable, as some of the monasteries and convents in Europe. Our new prisons in the United States reflect great honor on the nation. They speak loudly that we are a considerate and humane people; whereas the prison at Halifax, erected solely for the safe keeping of prisoners of war, resembles an horse stable, with stalls or stanchions, for separating the cattle from each other. It is to a contrivance of this sort that they attach the cords that support those canvass bags, or cradles, called hammocks. Four tier of these hanging-nests were made to swing one above another, between these stalls or stanchions. To those unused to these lofty sleeping-births, they were rather unpleasant situations for repose. But use makes every thing easy.

The first time I was shut up for the night, in this prison, it distressed me too much to close my eyes. Its closeness and smell were, in a degree, disagreeable, but this was trifling to what I experienced afterwards, in another place. The general hum and confused noise from almost every hammock, was at first, very distressing. Some would be lamenting their hard fate at being shut up like negro slaves in a Guinea ship, or like fowls in a hen coop, for no crime, but for fighting the battles of their country. Some were cursing and execrating their oppressors; others, late at night, were relating their adventures to a new prisoner; others lamenting their aberrations from rectitude, and disobedience of parents, and head strong wilfulness, that drove them to sea, contrary to their parents' wish, while others of the younger class, were sobbing out their lamentations at the thoughts of what their mothers and sisters suffered, after knowing of their imprisonment. Not unfrequently the whole night was spent in this way, and when, about day break, the weary prisoner fell into a dose, he was waked from his slumber by the grinding noise of the locks, and the unbarring of the doors, with the cry of "turn out—all out," when each man took down his hammock and lashed it up, and slung it on his back, and was ready to answer to the roll call of the turnkey. If any, through natural heaviness, or indisposition, was dilatory, he was sure to feel the bayonet of the brutal soldier, who appeared to us to have a natural antipathy to a sailor, and from what I observed, I believe that in general little or no love is lost between them.

This prison is swept out twice a week, by the prisoners.—The task is performed by the respective messes in turns.—When the prison is washed, the prisoners are kept out until it is perfectly dry. This, in the wet seasons, and in the severity of winter, is sometimes very distressing and dangerous to health; for there is no retiring place for shelter; it is like a stable, where the cattle are either under cover, or exposed to the weather, be it ever so inclement.

When we arrived here in May, 1813, there were about nine hundred prisoners; but many died by the severity of the winter; for the quantity of fuel allowed by the British government was insufficient to convey warmth through the prison. The men were cruelly harrassed by the barbarous custom of mustering and parading them in the severest cold, and even in snow storms. The agent, Miller, might have alleviated the sufferings of our people, had he been so disposed, without relaxation of duty. But he, as well as the turnkey, named Grant, seemed to take delight in tormenting the Americans. This man would often keep the prisoners out for many hours, in the severest weather, when the mercury was ten and fifteen degrees below zero, under a pretext that the prison had been washed, and was not sufficiently dry for their reception: when in fact every drop of water used was in a moment ice. People in the southern states, and the inhabitants of England and Ireland, can form no adequate idea of the frightful climate of Nova Scotia. The description of the sufferings of our poor fellows the past winter, was enough to make one's heart ach, and to rouse our indignation against the agents in this business.

Our people are sensible to kind treatment, and are ready to acknowledge humane and considerate conduct towards themselves, or towards their companions; but they are resentful in proportion as they are grateful. They speak very generally of the conduct of Miller, the agent, and Grant, the turnkey, with disgust and resentment. A complaint was made to him of the badness of the beef served out to the prisoners, upon which he collected the prisoners, and mounting the stair-case, began a most passionate harrangue, declaring that the beef was good enough, and a d—d deal better than they had in their own country: and if they did not eat it they should have none. He then went on as follows "Hundreds of you, d—d scoundrels, have been to me begging and pleading that I would interpose my influence that you might be the first to be exchanged, to return home to your families, who were starving in your absence; and now you have the impudence to tell me to my face, that the king's beef is not good enough for your dainty stomachs. Why some of that there beef is good enough for me to eat. You are a set of mean rascals, you beg of an enemy the favours which your own government won't grant you. You complain of ill treatment, when you never fared better in your lives. Had you been in a French prison, and fed on horse beef, you would have some grounds of complaint; but here in his Britannic Majesty's royal prison, you have every thing that is right and proper for persons taken fighting against his crown and dignity. There is a surgeon here for you if you are sick, and physic for you to take if you are sick, and a hospital to go to into the bargain; and if you die, there are boards enough (pointing to a pile of lumber in the yard) for to make you coffins, and an hundred and fifty acres of land to bury you in; and if you are not satisfied with all this, you may die and be d—d." Having finished this eloquent harrangue, orator Miller descended from his rostrum, and strutted out of the prison yard, accompanied with hisses from some of the prisoners.

On a re-examination, however, of the "king's beef," some pieces were found too much tainted for a dog to eat, and the prisoners threw it over the pickets. After this the supply of wholesome meat was such as it ought to be; full good enough for Mr. Miller himself to eat; and some of the very best pieces good enough for Mr. Grant, the turnkey.

In all this business of provision for prisoners of war, one thing ought to be taken into consideration, which may be offered as an extenuation of crime alledged against the British agents for prisoners; and that is, that the American soldier and sailor live infinitely better in America, than the same class of people do in Great Britain and Ireland. Generally speaking, an American eats three times the quantity of animal food that fall to the share of the same class of people in England, Holland, Germany, Denmark, or Sweden. He sleeps more comfortably, and lives in greater plenty of fish, flesh, vegetables, cider, and spirituous liquors. Add to this, his freedom is in a manner unbounded. He speaks his mind to any man. If he thinks he is wronged, he seeks redress with confidence; if he is insulted, he resents it; and if you should venture to strike him, he never will rest quiet under the dishonour; yet you seldom or ever hear of quarrels ending in murder. The dagger and pistol are weapons in a manner unknown. The fist, a la mode de John Bull, is commonly the ultimatum of a Yankee's revenge.

We often hear the British, if they are unsuccessful, lamenting the war between England and America; they call it an unhappy strife between brethren; and they attribute this "unnatural war," to a French influence; and their friends in New England, who are denominated tories, use the same language. They say that all the odium of the war ought to fall on our administration and their wicked seducers, the French; and yet you will find that both in England, and at Halifax, the French meet with better treatment than their dear brothers, the Americans.

We found that there were about two hundred French prisoners in Nova Scotia. Some had been there ever since 1803. Few of them were confined in prison. The chief of them lived in or near the town of Halifax, working for the inhabitants, or teaching dancing, or fencing, or their own language. Some were employed as butchers and cooks; others as nurses in the hospital; and they were every where favoured for their complaisance, obedience, and good humour. They had the character of behaving better towards the British officers and inhabitants than the Americans, and I believe with reason; for our men seem to take a delight in plaguing, embarrassing, and alarming those who were set over them. A Frenchman always tried to please, while many Americans seemed to take an equal delight in letting the Nova Scotians know that they longed to be at liberty to fight them again. I confess I do not wonder that the submissive, smiling Frenchmen made more friends at Halifax than the ordinary run of American seamen, who seemed too often to look and speak as if they longed to try again the tug of war with John Bull.

Sunday being a leisure day among the men of business in Halifax and its vicinity, the old refugees from the United States used to come round the prison to gratify their evil eyes, instead of going to a place of worship, with the sight of what they called "rebels." These are generally Scotchmen, or sons of Scotchmen, and are very bitter against the Americans. Some of this class were clergymen, who came occasionally to pray and preach with us in prison. We paid every mark of respect to every modest and prudent minister who came among us to perform divine service; but we never could restrain our feelings, when one of these refugee gentlemen came among us, praying for king George and the royal family of England. The men considered it as an insult, and resented it accordingly. Some of these imprudent men would fulminate the vengeance of Heaven, for what they conceived political, instead of moral errors. The prisoners respected some of these reverend gentlemen highly, while they despised some others. The priesthood, however, have less hold on the minds of the people of the United States, than of any other people on earth.

The Bishops and Church of England are fast destroying their own craft, by aiding the sly dissenters in spreading the bible through every family in Britain, and in America. In reading this blessed book, the people will see how Christianity has been corrupted. They will compare the archbishops and dignified clergy of the present degenerate days, with the plainness of our Saviour, and with the simplicity of the holy fishermen, and other of his disciples. Before this book the factitious institutions and gorgeous establishments of the modern priesthood will fade and die, like Jonah's gourd. The English Episcopacy never has, nor ever will, take deep root in the United States. It can never flourish in the American soil. Even the Roman Catholic religion is here a humble and rational thing. Its ministers are highly respected, because their lives adorn their doctrines; and the parochial care of their flock, who are principally Irish, is seen and commended. It is observed throughout our sea ports, that the seafaring people are generous supporters of their ministers; but these same people can never be made to pay tythes, or to hear and support a minister whom they had not directly or remotely chosen. This is the predominant sentiment of all the Anglo-Americans.

The daily allowance of the British government to our prisoners, is one pound of bread, one pound of beef, and one gill of peas. Over and above this we received from the American agent a sufficiency of coffee, sugar, potatoes, and tobacco. The first may be called the bare necessaries of life, but the latter contribute much to its comfortable enjoyment. Whether the British government ought not to have found the whole, I am not prepared to determine; but certainly, before this addition from our own agent, our men complained bitterly: and it is a fact, that the agent here more than once detained tobacco, sent as a present to us from our agent at Boston.

In justice to Mr. Miller, the British agent, I ought to record that he paid great attention to the cleanliness of the prison, and to the clothes of the men; and I must, at the same time, say that some of our men were very dirty, lazy fellows, that required constantly spurring up to keep them from being offensive. This indolent and careless disposition was observed to be chiefly among those who had been formerly intemperate; they felt the loss of their beloved stimulus, their spirits sunk, and they had rather lay down and rot, and die, than exert themselves. There were a few who seemed to be like hogs, innately dirty, and who had rather lie dirty than clean. Mr. Miller had therefore great merit in compelling these men to follow the rules prescribed to the whole prison. For this he had the thanks of every considerate American.

It was a common remark, that the most indolent and most slovenly men were the most vicious; and a dirty external was a pretty sure indication of a depraved mind. Such as would not conform to the rules of cleanliness were committed to the black hole, which was under the prison, and divided into solitary cells. The agent had the power of confining a prisoner in one of these dungeons during ten days. It is to the credit of our seamen to remark, that they co-operated with the agent most heartily in whatever tended to preserve the cleanliness of their persons, and they applauded the confinement of such as were disinclined to follow the salutary rules of the prison.

We were one day not a little shocked by the arrival of a number of American soldiers who were entrapped and taken with Colonel Boestler, in Upper Canada. They exhibited a picture of starvation, misery, woe, and despair. Their miserable condition called forth our sympathy and compassion, and I may add, excited our resentment against the authors of their distress. These unfortunate landsmen had never been used to "rough it" like sailors, but had lived the easy life of farmers and mechanics. Some of them had never experienced the hardships of a soldier's life, but were raw, inexperienced militia men. They were taken at some creek between Fort George and Little York, by the British and their allies the Indians, who stripped them of most of their clothing, and then wore them down by very long and harrassing marches; first to Montreal, and then to Quebec; and soon after crowded them on board transports, like negroes in a Guinea ship, where some suffered a lingering death, and others merely escaped it. It appears from their account, and from every other account, that the treatment of these poor fellows at their capture, and on their march, and more especially on board the transports from Quebec to Halifax, was barbarous in the extreme, and highly disgraceful to the British name and nation.

We have it asserted uniformly, that the prisoners, who came from Quebec to Halifax and to Boston, down the St. Lawrence, were treated and provided for in a manner little above brutes. Colonel Scott, now Major General Scott, came by that route from Quebec to Boston, and it is well known that he complained, that there were neither accommodations, provisions, nor any thing on board the ship proper for a gentleman. He spoke of the whole treatment he received with deep disgust and pointed resentment. If an officer of his rank and accomplishments had so much reason for complaint, we may easily conceive what the private soldier must have endured.

We paid every attention in our power to these poor soldiers, whose emaciated appearance and dejection gave us reason to expect that an end would soon be put to their sufferings by death. They, however, recruited fast; and we were soon convinced, that they were reduced to the condition we saw them in, absolutely for want of food. The account which these soldiers gave of their hardships was enough to fill with rage and resentment the heart of a saint. Four men were not allowed more provisions than what was needful for one. They assured us, that if they had not secretly come at some bags of ship bread, unknown to the officers of the transport, they must have perished for want of food. We cannot pass over one anecdote. Some fish were caught by our own people on the passage, in common with the crew, but they were compelled to deliver them all to the captain of the ship, who withheld them from the American prisoners. Some of the prisoners had a little money, and the captain of the transport was mean enough to take a dollar for a single cod fish, from men in their situation. This fact has appeared in several Boston papers, with the names of the persons concerned, and has never been contradicted or doubted. We give this as the common report; and as the Boston newspapers circulated freely through Nova Scotia and Canada, we infer, that had the story been void of truth, it would have been contradicted. This has been amply confirmed.

Those Americans who have no other knowledge of the English character, but what they gather from books made in London; and from their dramatic productions, and from their national songs, would believe, as I myself once did, that John Bull, (by which name Dean Swift personified the whole nation) was a humane, tender-hearted, generous gentleman; but let him be once in the power of an Englishman, or what is still worse, of a Scotchman, and it will correct his erroneous notions. An Englishman is strongly attached to his king and country; and thinks nothing on earth can equal them, while he holds all the rest of the world in comparative contempt. Until the days of Bonaparte, the people of England really believed that one Englishman could flog six Frenchmen. They, at one time, had the same idea of us, Americans; but the late war has corrected their articles of belief. The humanity of the British is one of the most monstrous impositions, now afloat in the world.

The most glaring feature in the English character is a vain glorious ostentation, as is exhibited in their elegant and costly steeples, superb hospitals, useless cathedrals, lying columns; such as the monument near London bridge, which as Pope says of it,

"Lifts its tall head and lies."

But if you wish to learn their real character, look at their bloody code of laws, read their wars with Wales, with Scotland, and with Ireland. Look at India, and at their own West India Islands. Look at the present "border war" carried on by associating themselves with our savages; look into this very prison, ask the soldiers just brought into it, what they think of British humanity or British bravery. A reliance on British veracity and honour caused these poor fellows to surrender, when they found them worse than the Indians. These things may be forgiven, but they ought never to be forgotten.

Nova Scotia, or New Scotland, was formerly called Chebucto by the native Indians. It is a dreary region. The country, for many miles west of Halifax, is a continued range of mountains, rising one over the other, as far as the eye can reach. The winters are severe, and the springs backward. The trees appeared to be as bare on the 26th of May as the same kind of trees do in the middle of March, with us in Massachusetts. To us there was something hideous in the aspect of their mountains; but this may have been partly owing to our own hideous habitation, and low spirits. The same objects may have appeared charming in the eyes of a Scotch family, just arrived from the fag-end of the Island of Great Britain.

The capital, Halifax, was settled by a number of British subjects in 1749. It is situated on a spacious and commodious bay or harbour, called Chebucto, of a bold and easy entrance, where a thousand of the largest ships might ride with safety. The town is built on the west side of the harbor, and on the declivity of a commanding hill, whose summit is two hundred and thirty-six feet perpendicular from the level of the sea. The town is laid out into oblong squares; the streets parallel and at right angles. The town and suburbs are about two miles in length; and the general width a quarter of a mile. It contained in 1793, about four thousand inhabitants and seven hundred houses. At the northern extremity of the town, is the king's naval yard, completely built and supplied with stores of every kind for the royal navy. The harbor of Halifax is reckoned inferior to no place in British America for the seat of government, being open and accessible at all seasons of the year, when almost all other harbors in these provinces are locked up with ice; also from its entrance, situation, and its proximity to the bay of Fundy, and principal interior settlements of the province. This city lying on the S coast of Nova Scotia has communication with Pictou, sixty-eight miles to the NE on the gulf of St. Lawrence, by a good cart road finished in 1792. It is twelve miles northerly of Cape Sambro, which forms in part the entrance of the bay; twenty-seven south easterly of Windsor, forty N by E of Truro, eighty NE by E of Annapolis, on the bay of Fundy, and one hundred and fifty-seven SE of St. Ann, in New Brunswick, measuring in a straight line. N lat. 44, 40, W lon. 63, 15.

It was settled chiefly by Scotchmen; and since the revolutionary war, which secured our independence, they have received considerable additions from the United States, of a class of men denominated refugees, who exiled themselves, on account of our republicanism, and of their own attachment to the best of kings. They show too often their hatred to us. To this day they call us "rebels;" and they speak to us in a style and tone as if they were sorry they could not murder us without the risk of being hanged.

In 1757 to 1759, when the British were engaged in a war with the French and Indians, and were in possession of Halifax with a large land and naval force, they were obliged to fetch their wood for fuel from Boston, as they could not venture, (says Capt. Knox, their military historian) beyond their walls and breastworks; and yet "thinking Johnny Bull" sent a land and naval force to conquer us, in 1814! of all "thinking" beings, of which we have ever had an account this Mr. Bull is the strangest! Peradventure much thinking has had the same effect on this poor gentleman that much learning has had on another.

It is strange, it is passing strange, that a whole people should be so strongly attached to the honor, crown and dignity of their conquerors, as the Scotch are to the present royal family of England, whose ancestor was, in fact, an usurper of the crown and dignities of the Scotch race of kings, the self sufficient Stewarts. The most remarkable thing in the reign of George the 3d (besides that of loosing America) is the perfect conciliation of the Scotch. Whether this was owing to my Lord Bute, or to his relation, I am unable to say; but it is a singular thing in the history of nations, when we take into consideration the cruel treatment of the Scotch so low down as the year 1745. As there is no new thing under the sun, and what has been may be again, who knows but that the Cherokees and Choctaws, the Chippewas, the Hurons, the Pottowatomies and Kickapoos, may hereafter become most attached to our government, and afford us Judges, Secretaries of State, Admirals, Generals, Governors of Provinces, Grooms of the Poet's Stool, and Historians? Who knows but the day will come, when there shall spring up from the mud and ooze of our own trifling lakes, another Walter Scott, who shall sing as sublimely the story of our border-wars; and who shall be able to trace a long and illustrious line of ancestry, up to the renowned chief Split-log, Walk-in-the-water, Hanging-maw, or to Tecumsch? Who knows but that among these American Highlanders, we may find another Ossian and another Fingal? for what has been, under similar circumstances, may be again.

Early in the month of July, we were not a little disturbed by the arrival of the crew of our ill omened, ill fated Chesapeake.

The capture of this American frigate by the British frigate Shannon of equal force, was variously related. From all that I could gather, she was not judiciously brought into action, nor well fought after Capt. Lawrence fell. It is too much like the British to hunt up every possible excuse for a defeat; but we must conclude, and I have since found it a general opinion in the United States, that the frigate was by no means in a condition to go into action. The captain was a stranger to his own crew; his ship was lumbered up with her cables and every thing else. She ought to have cruised three or four days before she met the Shannon, and that, it seems, was the opinion of the brave captain of the British frigate; who was every way prepared for the action.

The rapid destruction of the British sloop of war Peacock, gave Lawrence high reputation; and he felt as if he must act up to his high character. He seemed like an hero impelled, by high ideas of chivalry, to fight, conquer or die, without attending to the needful cautions and preparations. His first officer he left sick on shore, who died a few days after the battle; his next officer was soon killed; soon after which he fell himself, uttering the never to be forgotten words, "Don't give up the Ship," which has since become a sort of national motto. While the British captain prudently dressed himself in a short jacket and round hat, so as not to distinguish himself from the other officers, our Capt. Lawrence, who was six feet and upwards tall, was in his uniform and military hat, a fair and inviting mark for the enemy's sharp shooters. No one doubted his bravery, but some have called his prudence in question.

This heroic man and his Lieutenant, Ludlow, were three times buried with great military pomp; first at Halifax—then at Salem, and last of all at New-York. The name of Lawrence is consecrated in America, while his ever unlucky ship is doomed to everlasting ignominy; for this was the vessel that preferred allowing the British ship Leopard to muster her crew, instead of sinking, with her colors flying.

In the month of August, Halifax was alarmed, or pretended to be alarmed, by a rumor that the prisoners on Melville Island, which is about three miles, or less, from the town, meditated a sally, with the determination of seizing the capital of Nova Scotia. They immediately took the most serious precautions, and screwed up their municipal regulations to the highest pitch. All the loyal citizens entrusted with arms, were ordered to keep themselves in readiness to march at a minute's warning to repel the meditated attack of about a thousand unarmed Yankees, rendered formidable by a reinforcement of a few dozen half starved soldiers, who were taken by the Indians and British, and sent from Quebec down the river St. Lawrence to the formidable American post on Melville Island, under the command of turnkey Grant! who was himself under the command of Lieut. General Mr. Agent Miller!

It was reported and believed by many in Halifax, that the prisoners had made arrangements for the attack, and had sworn to massacre every man, woman and child. When we found that they really believed the ridiculous story, we must confess that we enjoyed their terror, and laughed, inwardly, at their formidable precautions of defence. They placed a company of artillery, with two pieces of cannon on a height south of the prison; and cleared up a piece of land, and stationed another corps of artillery with a cannon so placed as to rake our habitation lengthwise, while sentries were placed at regulated distances on the road, all the way into the town of Halifax. An additional number of troops were stationed on the island, who bivouacked[A] in the open air near to the officers' dwellings; in other words, they were placed there to prevent us from cutting the officers' throats with clam shells, or oyster shells, for we had nothing metallic for the purpose.

When we saw these formidable preparations, and reflected on our own helpless condition, without any means of offence, beside our teeth and nails, we could not but despise our enemies; and we did not omit to increase their ridiculous alarm, by whispering together, pointing our fingers sometimes E. and sometimes W. and sometimes N. and sometimes S. and rubbing our hands and laughing, and affecting to be in high spirits. The conduct of the agent at this threatening crisis of his affairs, did not diminish our contempt of him. He would often mount his rostrum, the head of the stair-case, to address us, and assure us, that we should soon be delivered from our confinement, and be sent home. He said that he did not expect to see any of us in prison six weeks longer; and that our detention was then only owing to some delay of orders from admiral Warren; but that he expected them every moment. He therefore entreated us to remain contented and quiet a little longer, and not obstruct the kind intentions that were in train for our deliverance from captivity; and he assured us, upon his honour, that every thing should be done in his power to expedite our return home; that there were then three cartels getting ready to convey us away. In the mean time every thing was said and done at Halifax to make us satisfied and quiet.

While the agent was making his declarations of friendship, and protesting upon his honour, that we should be sent home, he knew full well that the greatest part of the prisoners were to be sent across the Atlantic, to suffer the punishment of a British prison. The policy of the English government was, it seems, to discourage the enlistment of soldiers into our service by sending the prisoners, taken on the frontiers, to England. They meant also to distress us by accumulating our seamen in their prisons; and this they imagined would disenable us from manning our men of war, or sending out privateers. They preferred every mode of distressing us to that of fair fighting; for, in fair fight and equal numbers, we have always beat them by sea, and by land.

We were in good humor and high spirits, at the prospect of leaving our loathsome den, and once more returning home to see our mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, and school-fellows, and the old jolly companions of our happy days. We smiled upon Mr. Agent Miller, and he upon us. We greeted our turnkey, the now and then smooth tongued Mr. Grant, with a good morrow, and all feelings of hostility were fast subsiding; and one told him that he should be very glad to see him in Boston; another said he should be very glad to see him in Marblehead, and another at New-York, and Baltimore, and so on.

Towards the close of the month of August, and after Mr. Agent Miller and the military had taken the most effectual method to provide against the possibility of resistance from the prisoners, reports now and then reached us, that the expected exchange was unhappily broken off, and that it was the fault of the American government. These things were hinted with great caution, as not entitled to entire credit; the next day it was said, that the business of exchange was in a prosperous train. All this was done by way of feeling the pulse of the most respectable of the prisoners; those most likely to take the lead in an insurrection. We could easily trace all these different stories to the cunning Mr. Miller, through his subordinate agents.

On the first day of September, 1813, an hundred of us prisoners were selected from different crews, and ordered to get our baggage ready and be at the gate at a certain hour. On enquiring of our keeper, Mr. Grant, what was the design of this order, he replied with his habitual duplicity, that we were "to be sent home." When Mr. Miller was asked the same question, he replied, that he had a particular reason for not answering the question; but none of us doubted, from the selection from different crews, but that we were about to be sent to our beloved country and natal homes. We left the prison with light hearts, not without pitying our companions, who were doomed to wait a while longer before they could be made so happy as we then felt. We stepped on board the boats with smiling countenances. The barge men told us that the ships we were going to were cartels.

Having arrived among the shipping, the officer of the boat was asked which of these several ships was the cartel—"There," said he, pointing to an old 44, "is the ship which is to take you to old England." Heavens above! What a stroke of thunder was this! We looked at each other with horror, with dismay, and stupefaction, before our depressed souls recoiled with indignation! such a change of countenance I never beheld! Had we been on the deck of a ship, and been informed that a match was just about being touched to her magazine of powder, we should not have exhibited such a picture of paleness and dismay. The deception was cruel; the duplicity was infamous. The whole trick from beginning to end, was an instance of cowardice, meanness and villany. It proves that cowards are cruel; that barbarity and sincerity never meet in the same bosom.

We now saw that the rumor of our rising upon our keepers, and marching to Halifax was a miserable falsehood, spread abroad for no other purpose than to double our guards, and prevent the imagined consequences of desperation, should it be discovered that we were to be sent across the Atlantic. It is possible we might have succeeded in disarming the soldiers on the island, and taken their cannon; but for want of more arms we could have done but little. Had we all been armed, we could have entered Halifax, and put to the test the bravery of these loyalists: but an unarmed multitude are nothing before an eighth part of their number of regular soldiers. Military men in Halifax could never have had a moment's serious apprehension from the prisoners on Melville Island. It is my firm opinion, however, that had we been apprized of our cruel destination, we should have risen upon the boats, and attempted an escape, or sold our lives dearly. Revenge and desperation have done wonders; and both would have steeled the heart and nerved the arm of our little band of sufferers. Had we not been beguiled with the lies of the agent and his turnkey, we should have given our enemies a fresh proof of American bravery, if not imprudence. Had Miller been on board the boat with us, we should most certainly have thrown him overboard. His base and dishonourable artifice, first to raise our hopes and expectations to the height of joy, and then to sink us in despair, was an infamous deed, worthy such a reward. Speaking for myself, I declare, that my heart sunk within me, and I came near fainting, and it was some time before tears came to my relief; then in a burst of indignation, I cursed the perfidious enemy, and felt my soul wound up to deeds of desperation.

CHAPTER II.

Had the agent informed us of the orders of his government, and made us acquainted with our destination, we should have braced our minds up to the occasion, and submitted to our hard fate like men. We should have said to each other in the language of Shakespeare—"if these things be necessities, let's meet them like necessities;" but to be deceived and duped, and cajoled into a state of great joy and exultation, and then, in an instant, precipitated into the dark and cold regions of despair, was barbarous beyond expression. As much resentment as I feel towards Miller and his subalterns, I cannot wish either of them to suffer the pangs I felt at the idea of this floating dungeon.

The late Governor Gerry, in one of his communications to the legislature of Massachusetts, when speaking of the impressment and ill usage of our seamen by the English, calls a British man-of-war "a floating Pandemonium." I never felt the force of that expression until I entered on board this floating hell.

After some difficulty and delay we got ourselves and bedding up the side of the ship; and as our names were called over, our bedding was served out to us. We informed the officer that there were but seventy blankets for an hundred men; to which he replied, that he had orders to serve out blankets in the same proportion as they served out our provisions. To understand this, the reader must know that the British have been in the habit, all the war, of giving to their prisoners a less quantity of food than to their own men. They uniformly gave to six of us the same quantity which they gave to four of their own sailors. If what they allowed to their own men was barely sufficient, what they gave to us could not be enough to satisfy the cravings of hunger; and this we all found to be the case.

The crew of the man of war sleep on the deck which is next under the gun deck, while our destination was on the deck under that. It was to the ship what the cellar is to a house. It was under water, and of course, without windows, or air holes. All the air and light came through the hatch way, a sort of trap door or cellar way. In this floating dungeon, we miserable young men spent our first night, in sleepless anguish, embittered with the apprehension of our suffering cruel death by suffocation. Here the black hole of Calcutta rose to my view in all its horrors; and the very thought stopped my respiration, and set my brain on fire. In my distress, I stamped with my feet, and beat my head against the side of the ship in the madness of despair. I measured the misery of those around me by what I myself suffered. Shut up in the dark with ninety-nine distressed young men, like so many galley slaves, or Guinea negroes, excluded from the benefit of the common air, without one ray of light or comfort, and without a single word expressive of compassion from any officer of the ship. I never was so near sinking into despair. We naturally cling to life, but now I should have welcomed death. To be confined, and even chained any where in the light of the sun, is a distressing thing, especially to very young men, but to be crowded into a dirty hole in the dark, where there was no circulation of air is beyond expression horrible. Perhaps my study of the human frame, and my knowledge of the vital property of the air, and of the philosophy of the vital functions, may have added to my distress. I remembered what I had read and learnt in the course of my education, viz: that every full grown person requires forty-eight thousand cubic inches of air in an hour, or one million, one hundred and fifty-two thousand cubic inches in the course of a day; and that if this is once received into the lungs and breathed out again, it cannot be breathed a second time, till it is mixed with the common atmospheric air. When I considered that our number amounted to an hundred, I could not drive from my mind this calculation, and the result of it nearly deprived me of my reason. The horrors of the Black Hole of Calcutta have been long celebrated, because Englishmen suffered and perished in it. Now the English have more than a thousand black holes into which they unfeelingly thrust their impressed men, and their prisoners of war. Their tenders that lay in the Thames, off Tower-wharf, are so many black holes into which they thrust their own people, whom their press gangs seize in the streets of London, and crowd into them like so many live rabbits or chickens carrying in a cart to market. My reflections on these things have greatly changed my opinion of the English character in point of humanity.

After passing a wretched night, one of the petty officers came down to us, by which event we learnt that it was morning. I found myself much indisposed; my tongue was dry and coated with a furr; my head ached violently, and I felt no inclination to take any thing but cold water. A degree of calmness, however, prevailed among my fellow prisoners. They found lamentations unavailing, and complaints useless. Few of them, beside myself, had lost their appetites, and several expressed a wish for some breakfast. Preparations were soon made for this delicious repast. The first step was to divide us into messes, six in a mess. To each mess was given a wooden kid, or piggin, as our farmers call them, because it is out of such wooden vessels that they feed their pigs that are fatting for the market. At 8 o'clock one was called from each mess, by the whistle of the boatswain's mate, to attend at the galley, the nautical name for the kitchen and fire place, to receive the breakfast for the rest. But what was our disappointment to find instead of coffee, which we were allowed by our own government at Melville prison, a piggin of swill, for we farmers' sons can give no other name to the disgusting mess they brought us. This breakfast was a pint of liquid which they call Burgoo, which is a kind of oatmeal gruel, about the consistence of the swill which our farmers give their hogs, and not a whit better in its quality. It is made of oatmeal, which we Americans very generally detest. Our people consider ground oats as only fit for cattle, and it is never eaten by the human species in the United States. It is said that this oatmeal porridge was introduced to the British prisons by the Scotch influence, and we think that none but hogs and Scotchmen ought to eat it. A mess more repellant to a Yankee's stomach could not well be contrived. It is said, however, that the highlanders are very fond of it, and that the Scotch physicians extol it as a very wholesome and nutritious food, and very nicely calculated for the sedentary life of a prisoner: but by what we have heard, we are led to believe, that oatmeal is the staple commodity of Scotland, and that the highly favoured Scotch have the exclusive privilege of supplying the miserable creatures whom the fortune of war has thrown into the hands of the English, with this national dish, so delicious to Scotchmen, and so abhorrent to an American.

Excepting this pint of oatmeal porridge, we had nothing more to eat or drink until dinner time; when we were served with a pint of pea-water. Our allowance for the week, for it is difficult to calculate it by the day, was four and a half pounds of bread, two and a quarter pounds of beef or pork, one and a quarter pounds of flour, and the pea-water, which they called "soup," five days in every week. Now let any man of knowledge and observation judge, whether the portion of food here allotted to each man was sufficient to preserve him from the exquisite tortures of hunger; and perhaps there is no torture more intolerable to young men not yet arrived to their full growth. We had been guilty of no crime. We had been engaged in the service of our dear country, and deserved applause, and not torture. And be it forever remembered, that the Americans always feed their prisoners well, and treat them with humanity.

The Regulus, for that is the name of the ship we were in, is, if I mistake not, an old line of battle ship, armed en flute, that is, her lower deck was fitted up with bunks, or births, so large as to contain six men in a birth. The only passages for light or air were through the main and fore hatches, which were covered with a grating, at which stood, day and night, a sentinel. The communication between our dungeon and the upper deck was only through the main hatch way, by means of a rope ladder, that could be easily cut away at a moment's warning, should the half starved American prisoners ever conclude to rise and take the ship, which the brave British tars seemed constantly apprehensive of. You may judge of their apprehensions by their extraordinary precautions—they had a large store of muskets in their tops to be ready for their marines and crew, should we Yankees drive them from the hull to seek safety above. They had two carronades loaded with grape and canister shot on the poop, pointing forward, with a man at each; and strict orders were given not to hold any conversation with the Americans, under the penalty of the severest chastisement. However improbable the thing may appear, we discussed the matter very seriously and repeatedly among ourselves, and compared the observations we made when on deck, in our council chamber under water. It seems that the British are apprized of the daring spirit of the Americans; they watch them with as much dread as if they were so many tigers.

Just before we sailed, our old friend, Mr. Miller, came on board, and we were all called upon deck to hear his last speech, and receive his blessing. We conceited that he looked ashamed, and felt embarrassed. It is probable that the consciousness of having told us things that were not true, disconcerted him. He, however, in a milder manner and voice than usual, told us that we were going to England to be exchanged, while there were some in another ship going to England to be hanged. Beside this enviable difference in our situation, compared with those traitorous Irishmen, who had been fighting against their king and country, we were very fortunate in being the first selected to go, as we should of course, be the first to be exchanged and sent home. He told us that he thought it probable, that we should be sent home again before spring, or at farthest in the spring; he therefore exhorted us to be good boys during the passage, and behave well, and obey orders, and that would ensure us kind and humane treatment; but that if we were mutinous, or attempted to resist the authority of the officers, our treatment would be less kind, and we should lose our turn in the course of exchange, and that our comfort and happiness depended entirely on our own submissive behaviour. He every now and then gave force to his assertions, by pledging his honor, that what he said was true, and no deception.

As this was probably the last time we should have an opportunity of a personal communication with Mr. Agent Miller, we represented to him, that there were several of the prisoners destitute of comfortable clothing; that the clothes of some were not even decent to cover those parts of the body that even our savage Indians conceal, and he promised to accommodate them: but we never heard any more of him or the clothing. However it may be accounted for, we saw this man part from us with regret. It seemed to be losing an old acquaintance, while we were going we knew not where—to meet we knew not what.

Previous to our sailing we had applied to Mr. Mitchell, the American agent, for a supply of clothing; but from some cause or other, he did not relieve the wants of our suffering companions. Mr. Mitchell may be a very good man; but every good man is not fit for every station. We had rather see old age, or decrepitude, pensioned by the government we support, than employed in stations that require high health and activity. Disease and infirmity may check, or impede the benevolent views of our government, and cast an odium on the officers of administration. After all, we may find fault where we ought to praise. It is possible that we may not have made due allowance for Mr. Miller, the British agent, and we may sometimes have denounced him in terms of bitterness, when he did not deserve it. His general conduct, however, we could not mistake.

On the third of September, 1813, we sailed from Halifax in company with the Melpomene, a man of war transport, armed en flute. On board this ship were a number of Irishmen, who had enlisted in our regiments, and were captured in Upper Canada, fighting under the colours of the United States of America! or, in the language of the English government, found fighting against their king and country. The condition of these Irishmen was truly pitiable. Unable to live in their own oppressed country, they, in imitation of our forefathers, left their native land to enjoy the liberty, and the fruits of their labor in another. They abandoned Ireland, where they were oppressed, and chose this country, where they were protected and kindly treated. Many of them had married in America, and considered it their home. Here they chose to live, and here they wished to die. As few of them had trades, they got their living as laborers, or as seamen. The embargoes and the war threw them out of business, and many of them enlisted in our army; that is, in the army of the country which they had chosen, and had a right to choose. Their consciences forbade them not to fight for us against the English and their allies the Indians. In their eyes, and in the eye of our laws, no imputation of crime could be attached to their conduct; yet were these men seized from among other prisoners, taken in battle, and sent together in one ship, as traitors and rebels to their country. We fled from our native land, said these unfortunate men, to avoid the tyranny and oppression of our British task-masters, and the same tyrannical hand has seized us here, and sent us back to be tried, and perhaps executed as rebels. Beside the privations, hunger and miseries that we endured, these poor Irishmen had before their eyes, the apprehension of a violent and ignominious death. While we talked among ourselves of the hard fate of these brave Hibernians, we were ashamed to lament our own.

I cannot help remarking here, that the plan of retaliation determined by President Madison, merits the respect and gratitude of the present and future generations of men. It was this energetic step that saved the lives, and insured the usual treatment of ordinary prisoners of war to these American soldiers of Irish birth. This firm determination of the American executive arrested the bloody hand of the British. They remembered Major Andre, and they recollected Sir James Asgill, under the administration of the great Washington, and they trembled for the fate of their own officers. May eternal blessings here, and hereafter, be the reward of Madison, for his righteous intention of retaliating on the enemy any public punishment that should be executed on these American soldiers, of Irish origin. While we feel gratitude and respect to the head of the nation for his scheme of retaliation, we cannot suppress our feelings of disgust towards the faction in our own country, who justified the British government in their conduct towards these few Irishmen, and condemned our own for protecting them from an ignominious death. I speak it with shame for my country—the ablest writers of the oppositionists, and the oldest and most celebrated ministers of religion, employed their venal pens and voices to condemn Mr. Madison, and to justify the British doctrine. This is a deep stain on the character of our clergy; and the subsequent conduct of the British, may serve to shew these ever meddling men, that our enemies despised them, and respected Madison.

Our voyage across the Atlantic afforded but few incidents for remark. Every day brought the same distressed sensations, and every night the same doleful feelings, arising from darkness, stench, increased debility and disease. The general and most distressing in the catalogue of our miseries was the almost unceasing torment of hunger. Many of us would have gladly partaken with our father's hogs, in their hog-troughs. This barbarous system of starvation reduced several of our hale and hearty young men to mere skeletons. What with the allowance of the enemy, and the allowance from our own government, in which was good hot coffee for breakfast, we were generally robust and hearty at Melville Island. Some of our companions might well be called fine looking fellows, when we came first on board the Regulus; but before we arrived on the coast of England, they were so reduced and weakened, that they tottered as they walked. It was the opinion of us all, that one young man absolutely died for want of sufficient food! Yes! Christian Reader, a young American, who was carried on board the Regulus man of war transport, perished for want of sufficient to eat. In this insufficiency of food, complaint was made to the captain of the Regulus, but it produced no increase of the scanty allowance; and had the common sailors possessed no more humanity than their officers, we might all have perished with hunger. You who never felt the agonizing torture of hunger can have no idea of our misery. The study of my profession had acquainted me, that when the stomach is empty and contracted to a certain degree, that it, in a measure, acts upon itself, and draws all the neighbouring organs into sympathy with its distress: this increases to an agony that ends in distraction; for it is well known that those who are starved to death, die raving distracted! Some of us in the course of this horrid voyage could have eaten a puppy or kitten, could we have laid hands upon either.

The manner in which the English generally treat their poor in their work-houses, in England, is infinitely worse than the treatment of our convicts in our state prisons. There are no very heavy chains, huge blocks, or iron stanchions in our prisons, as there are in the receptacles of the poor in England. We treat them with tenderness, as unfortunate fellow creatures, and not with harshness, as criminals.

Our constitutions, mind and body united, were so constantly impressed and worried with the desire of eating, that the torment followed us in our sleep. We were constantly dreaming of tables finely spread with a plenty of all those good and savory things with which we used to be regaled at home, when we would wake smacking our lips, and groaning with disappointment. I pretend not to say that the allowance was insufficient to keep some men pretty comfortable; but it was not half enough for some others. It is well known in common life, that one man will eat three times as much as another. The quality of the bread served out to us on board the Regulus, was not fit and proper for any human being. It was old, and more like the powder of rotten wood than bread stuff; and to crown all, it was full of worms. Often have I seen our poor fellows viewing their daily allowance of bread, with mixed sensations of pain and pleasure; with smiles and tears; not being able to determine whether they had best eat it all up at once, or eat it in small portions through the day. Some would devour all their bread at once, worms and all, while others would be eating small portions through the day. Some picked out the worms and threw them away; others eat them, saying, that they might as well eat the worm as his habitation. Some reasoned and debated a long time on the subject. Prejudice said, throw the nasty thing away, while gnawing hunger held his hand. Birds, said they, are nourished by eating worms; and if clean birds eat them, why may not man? Who feels any reluctance at eating of an oyster, with all its parts: and why not a worm?

One day while we were debating the subject, one of our jack tars set us a laughing, by crying out: "Retaliation, by G—, these d—d worms eat us when we are dead, and so we will eat them first." This shews that misery can sometimes laugh. I have observed that a sailor has generally more laughter and good humour in him than is to be found among any other class of men. They have, beside, a greater share of compassion than the soldier. We had repeated instances of their generosity: for while the epauletted officers of this British ship treated us like brutes, the common sailors would now and then give us of their own allowance; but they took care not to let their officers know it.

The Regulus had brought British soldiers to America, and among the rags and filth left behind them were myriads of fleas. These were at first a source of vexation, but at length their destruction became an amusement. We could not, however, overcome them; like the persecuted Christians of old times, when you killed one, twenty would seem to rise up in his place. Had I have known what I have since learnt and had been provided with the essential oil of pennyroyal, we should have conquered all these light troops in a few days. A few drops of this essential oil, dropped here and there upon the blankets infested with fleas, and they will abandon the garment. The effluvium of it destroys them.

Confined below, we knew little of what was going on upon deck; some of us, however, were more or less there every day. Nothing occurred worthy of notice during our passage to England, excepting the retaking of a brig captured a few hours before on the Grand Bank, by the frigate President, commodore Rodgers. From information obtained from the midshipman who commanded the prize, we learnt the course of the President, whereupon we altered ours to avoid being captured. A few hours after this we fell in with the Bellerophon, a British seventy-four, who went, from our information, in pursuit of the President. We could easily perceive that the fame of our frigates had inspired these masters of the ocean with a degree of respect bordering on dread. We overheard the sailors say that they had rather fall in with two French frigates than one American. We thought, or it might be conceit, that we were spoken to with more kindness at this time. I have certainly had occasion for remarking, that prosperity increases the insults and hard heartedness of the British; and that we never received so much humane attention as when they apprehended an attack from us, as in the case of alarm at Halifax. I am more and more convinced that cowardice is the mother of cruelty. Were I to draw the picture of cruelty, I would paint him with a feminine faintness. The free and horrible use of the halter in London, is from fear. I was brought up, all my life, even until I left my father's house, and came off without calculation, or reflection on this wild adventure in a privateer, in the opinion that the English were an humane, generous, and magnanimous people, and that none but Turks, Frenchmen, and Algerines, were cruel; but my experience for three years past has corrected my false notions of this proud nation. If they do not impale men as the Algerines and Turks do, or roast a man as the Indians do, and as the Inquisitors do, they will leave him to starve, and linger out his miserable days in the hole of a ship, or in a prison, where the blessed air is changed into a poison, and where the articles given him to eat are far worse in quality than the swill with which the American farmer feeds his hogs. How can an officer, how can any man, holding in society the rank of a gentleman, sit down to his meal in his cabin, when he has a hundred of his fellow creatures, some of them brought up with delicacy and refinement, and with the feelings of gentlemen: I say, how can he sit composedly down to his dinner, while men, as good as himself, are suffering for want of food. There is in this conduct either a bold cruelty, or a stupidity and want of reflection, that does no honour to that officer, or to those who gave him his command.

It happened when some of us were allowed in our turn to be on deck, that we would lay hold and pull or belay a rope when needed. When we arrived at Portsmouth, which was the 5th of October, we were visited by the health officer; and when we again weighed anchor to go to the quarantine ground, the boatswain's mate came to tell us that it was the captain's order that we should tumble up and assist at the capstan. Accordingly three or four went to assist; but one of our veteran tars bid him go and tell his captain that hunger and labour were not friends, and never would go together; and that prisoners who subsisted three days in a week on pea-water, could only give him pea-water assistance. This speech raised the temper of the officer of the deck, who sent down some marines, who drove us all up. There was among us a Dutchman, who was very forward in complying with the officers' request; but being awkward and careless withall, he suffered himself to be jambed between the end of the capstan-bar and the side of the ship, which hurt him badly. Some of the prisoners collected round their wounded companion, when the officer of the deck ordered them to take the d—d blunderheaded fellow below, and let some American take his place; but after this expression of brutality towards the poor jambed up Dutchman, not a man would go near the capstan, so one of their own crew filled up the vacancy made by the wounded Hollander.

A Mr. S——, who had some office of distinction in Newfoundland, if I mistake not he was the first in command of that dreary island. This gentleman, who I think they called general Smith, was passenger on board the Regulus. One day when I was upon deck, he asked me how many of the hundred prisoners could read and write. I told him that it was a rare thing to find a person, male or female, in New England, who could not write as well as read. Then, said he, New England must be covered with charity schools.—I replied, that we had no charity schools, or very few; at which he looked as if he thought I had uttered an absurdity. I then related in a few words our school system. I told him, that the primary condition or stipulation in the incorporation of every town in Massachusetts, and which was a "sine qua non" of every town, was a reserve of land, and a bond to maintain a school or schools, according to the number of inhabitants; that the teachers were supported by a tax, in the same way as we supported our clergy; that such schools were opened to every child, from the children of the first magistrate down to the children of the constable; and that there was no distinction, promotion or favour, but what arose from talent, industry and good behaviour. I told him that the children of the poorest people, generally went to school in the winter, while in the spring and summer they assisted their parents.

He walked about musing awhile, and then turning back, asked me if the clergy did not devote much of their time to the instruction of our youth—very seldom, sir—our young students of divinity, and theological candidates very often instruct youth; but when a gentleman is once ordained and settled as a parish minister, he never or very rarely keeps a school. At which the general appeared surprised. I added that sometimes episcopal clergymen kept a school, but never the presbyterian, or congregational ministers. He asked why the latter could not keep school as well as the former; I told him, because they were expected to write their own sermons, at which he laughed. Besides, parochial visits consume much of their time, and when a congregation have stipulated with a minister to fill the pulpit, and preach two sermons a week, visit the sick and attend funerals, they think he can have not too much time for composing sermons. They moreover consider it derogatory to the honor of his flock to be obliged to keep a school—when I told him that our clergymen bent all their force to instructing youth in morality and religion, he said, then they attempt to raise a structure before they lay a foundation for it. He seemed very strenuous that our priests should be employed in the education of youth, as he conceived that hired school masters had not the pious zeal that the priest would have. I suspect said General S. that your ministers are too proud and too lazy. I perceived his idea was, that a school master, hired to undergo the drudgery of teaching boys, was too much of an hireling to fill up to the full the important duties of a teacher; but he judged of them by the numerous Scotch school masters here and there in Canada, Nova Scotia, the West India islands and every where else, teaching for money merely. He did not know that our New England school masters were men of character, and consequence. Some of our very first men in these United States, have been teachers of youth. At this present time some of the sons of some of the first men in Massachusetts are village school masters; that is, they keep a school in the winter vacations of the University; and some of them for the first year after leaving college.

I was much pleased with the general; and have since learnt, that he was a very worthy and benevolent man; and that he had paid great attention to the education of youth in Newfoundland; and that it was, in a degree, his ruling passion.[B] I wish I had then known as much of our school system, and of our system of public education at our Universities, as I do now; for I might have gratified his benevolent disposition by the recital. The ignorance of English gentlemen of the people of America, and of their education, is indeed surprising as well as mortifying. By their treatment of us, it is evident they consider us a sort of white savages, with minds as uncultivated, and dispositions as ferocious as their own allies, with their tomahawks and scalping knives. After conversing with this worthy Englishman, about the education of the common people in America, I could not but say to myself, little do you, good sir, and your haughty, and unfeeling captain imagine, that there are those among the hundred miserable men whom you keep confined in the hold of your ship, like so many Gallipago turtles, and who you allow to suffer for want of sufficient food; little do you think that there are among them those who have sufficient learning to lay the whole story of their sufferings before the American and English people; little do you imagine that the inhumane treatment of men every way as good as yourselves, is now recording, and will in due time be displayed to your mortification.

Our sailors, though half starved, confined and broken down by harsh treatment, always kept up the genuine Yankee character, which is that of being grateful and tractable by kind usage, but stern, inflexible and resentful at harsh treatment. One morning as the general and the captain of the Regulus were walking as usual on the quarter deck, one of our Yankee boys passed along the galley with his kid of "burgoo." He rested it on the edge of the hatch-way, while he was adjusting the rope ladder to descend with his "swill." The thing attracted the attention of the general, who asked the man, how many of his comrades eat of that quantity for their breakfast? "Six Sir," said the man, "but it is fit food only for hogs." This answer affronted the captain, who asked the man, in an angry tone, "what part of America he came from?" "near to Bunker Hill, Sir—if you ever heard of that place." They looked at each other and smiled, turned about and continued their walk. This is what the English call impudence. Give it what name you please, it is that something which will, one day, wrest the trident from the hands of Britannia, and place it with those who have more humanity, and more force of muscle, if not more cultivated powers of mind. There was a marine in the Regulus, who had been wounded on board the Shannon in the battle with the Chesapeake, who had a great antipathy to the Americans, and was continually casting reflections on the Americans generally. He one day got into a high dispute with one of our men, which ended in blows. This man had served on board the Constitution, when she captured the Guerriere and afterwards the Java. After the two wranglers were separated, the marine complained to his officer, that he had been abused by one of the American prisoners, and it reaching the captain's ears, he ordered the American on the quarter deck, and inquired into the cause of the quarrel. When he had heard it all, he called the American sailor a d—d coward for striking a wounded man. "I am no coward, Sir," said the high spirited Yankee; "I was captain of a gun on board the Constitution when she captured the Guerriere, and afterwards when she took the Java. Had I been a coward I should not have been there." The captain called him an insolent scoundrel, and ordered him to his hole again. What the British naval commanders call insolence, is no more than the undaunted expression of their natural and habitual independence. When a British sailor is called by his captain, in an angry tone, on to the quarter-deck, he turns pale and trembles, like a thief before a country justice; but not so the American; he, if he be innocent, speaks his mind with a firm tone and steady countenance; and if he feels himself insulted, he is not afraid to deal in sarcasm. In the instances just mentioned, Jonathan knew full well that the very name of Bunker Hill, the Guerriere, and the Java, was a deep mortification to John Bull. Actuated by this sort of feeling, the steady Romans shook the world.

From this digression, let us return, and resume our Journal. We arrived off Portsmouth the fifth of October, 1813; and were visited by the health officer, and ordered to the Mother-bank, opposite that place, where vessels ride out their quarantine. The next day the ship was fumigated, and every exertion made by the officers to put her in a condition for inspection by the health-officer. Letters were fumigated by vinegar, or nitrous acid, before they were allowed to go out of the ship. Their attention was next turned to us, miserable prisoners. We were ordered to wash, and put on clean shirts. Being informed that many of us had not a second shirt to put on, the captain took down the names of such destitute men, but never supplied them with a single rag.

The prisoners were now as anxious to go on shore, and to know the extent of their misery, as the captain of the Regulous was to get rid of us. The most of us, therefore, joined heartily in the task of cleansing the ship, and in white-washing the lower deck, or the place we occupied. Some, either through laziness or resentment, refused to do any thing about it; but the rest of us said, that it was always customary in America, when we left a house, or a room we hired, to leave it clean, and it was ever deemed disreputable to leave an apartment dirty. The officers of the ship tried to make them, and began to threaten them, but they persisted in their refusal, and every attempt to force them was fruitless. I do not myself wonder that the British officers, so used to prompt and even servile obedience of their own men, were ready to knock some of our obstinate, saucy fellows, on the head. This brings to my mind the concise but just observation of an English traveller through the United States of America. After saying that the inhabitants south of the Hudson were a mixed race of English, Irish, Scotch, Dutch, Germans and Swedes, among whom you could observe no precise national character; he adds, "but as to New-England, they are all true English; and there you see one uniform trait of national manners, habits and dispositions.—The people are hardy, industrious, humane, obliging, obstinate and brave. By kind and courteous usage, mixed with flattery, you can lead them, like so many children, almost as you please;" but, he adds, "the devil from h—l, with fire in one hand, and faggots in the other, cannot drive them." Neither Cæsar, nor Tacitus ever drew a more true and concise character of the Gauls, or Germans, than this. Here is seen the transplanted Englishman, enjoying "Indian freedom," and therefore a little wilder than in his native soil of Albion; and yet it is surprising that a people, whose ancestors left England less than a century and a half ago, should be so little known to the present court and administration of Great Britain. Even the revolutionary war was not sufficient to teach John Bull, that his descendants had improved by transplantation, in all those qualities for which stuffy John most values himself. The present race of Englishmen are puffed up, and blinded by what they have been, while their descendants in America are proud of what they are, and what they know they shall be.

After the ship had been cleansed, fumigated and partially white-washed, so as to be fit for the eye and nose of the health officer, she was examined by him, and reported free from contagion! Now I conceive this line of conduct not very reputable to the parties concerned. When we arrived off Portsmouth, our ship was filthy, and I believe contagious; we miserable prisoners, were encrusted with the nastiness common to such a place, as that into which we had been inhumanly crowded. It was the duty of the health officers and the surgeon of the Regulus, to have reported her condition when she first anchored; and not to have cleaned her up, and altered her condition for inspection. In the American service the captain, surgeon and health officer would have all been cashiered for such a dereliction of honour and duty. This is the way that the British board of admiralty, the transport board, the parliament, and the people are deceived, and their nation disgraced; and this corruption, which more or less pervades the whole transport service, will enervate and debase their boasted navy. We cannot suppose that the British board of admiralty, or the transport board would justify the cruel system of starvation practised on the brave Americans who were taken in Canada, and conveyed in their floating dungeons down the river St. Lawrence to Halifax. Some of these captains of transports deserve to be hanged for their barbarity to our men; and for the eternal hatred they have occasioned towards their own government in the hearts of the surviving Americans. We hope, for the honor of that country whence we derived our laws and sacred institutions, that this Journal will be read in England.

The Regulus was then removed to the anchoring place destined for men of war; and the same night, we were taken out, and put on board the Malabar store ship, where we found one hundred and fifty of our countrymen in her hold, with no other bed to sleep on but the stone ballast. Here were two hundred and fifty men, emaciated by a system of starvation cooped up in a small space, with only an aperture of about two feet square to admit the air, and with ballast stones for our beds! Although in harbor, we were not supplied with sufficient water to quench our thirst, nor with sufficient light to see our food, or each other, nor of sufficient air to breathe; and what aggravated the whole, was the stench of the place, owing to a diarrhœa with which several were affected. Our situation was indeed deplorable. Imagine yourself, Christian reader! two hundred and fifty men crammed into a place too small to contain one hundred with comfort, stifling for want of air, pushing and crowding each other, and exerting all their little remaining strength to push forward to the grated hatch-way to respire a little fresh air. The strongest obtained their wish, while the weakest were pushed back, and sometimes trampled under foot.

Out stretch'd he lies, and as he pants for breath,
Receives at every gasp new draughts of death.Tasso.

God of mercy, cried I, in my agony of distress, is this a sample of the English humanity we have heard and read so much of from our school boy years to manhood? If they be a merciful nation, they belong to that class of nations "whose tender mercies are cruelty."

Representations were repeatedly made to the captain of the Malabar, of our distressed situation, as suffering extremely by heat and stagnant air; for only two of us were allowed to come upon deck at a time; but he answered that he had given orders for our safe treatment, and safe keeping; and he was determined not to lose his ship by too much lenity. In a word, we found the fellow's heart to be as hard as the bed we slept on. Soon after, however, our situation became so dangerous and alarming, that one of the marine corps informed the captain that if he wished to preserve us alive, he must speedily give us more air. If this did not move his compassion, it alarmed his fears; and he then gave orders to remove the after hatch, and iron bars fixed in its place, in order to prevent us from forcing our way up, and throwing him into the sea, a punishment he richly deserved. This alteration rendered the condition of our "black hole," more tolerable; it was nevertheless a very loathsome dungeon;—for our poor fellows were not allowed to go upon deck to relieve the calls of nature, but were compelled to appropriate one part of our residence to this dirty purpose. This, as may be supposed, rendered our confinement doubly disgusting, as well as unwholesome.

I do not recollect the name of the captain of the Malabar, and it may be as well that I do not; I only know that he was a Scotchman. It may be considered by some as illiberal to deal in national reflections, I nevertheless cannot help remarking that I have received more ill-treatment from men of that nation than from individuals of any other; and this is the general impression of my countrymen. The poet tell us, that

"Cowards are cruel, but the brave
Love mercy, and delight to save."[C]

The Scotch are brave soldiers, but we, Americans, have found them to be the most hard hearted and cruel people we have ever yet met with. Our soldiers as well as sailors make the same complaint, insomuch, that, "cruel as a Scotchman," has become a proverb in the United States.—The Scotch officers have been remarked for treating our officers, when in their power, with insolence, and expressions of contempt; more so than the English. It is said that a Scotch officer, who superintends the horrid whippings so common in British camps, is commonly observed to be more hard hearted than an English one. It is certain that they are generally preferred as negro-drivers in the West-India islands. It has been uniformly remarked that those Scotchmen who are settled on the Canada frontiers are remarkable for their bitterness towards our men in captivity.

We speak here of the vagrant Scotch, the fortune-hunters of the Caledonian tribe; at the same time we respect her philosophers and literary men, who appear to us to compose the first rank of writers. Without mentioning their Ossian, Thompson and Burns, we may enumerate their prose writers, such as Hume, and the present association of truly learned and acute men, who write the Edinburgh Review. A Scotchman may be allowed to show pride at the mention of this celebrated work. As it regards America, this northern constellation of talent, shines brightly in our eyes. The ancient Greeks, who once straggled about Rome and the Roman empire, were not fair specimens of the refined Athenians.

Our peasantry, settled around our own frontier, and around the shores of our lakes, have a notion that the Scotch Highlanders were, not long since, the same kind of wild, half-naked people compared with the true English, that the Choctaws, Cherokees, Pottowatomies and Kickapoo Indians are to the common inhabitants of these United States; and that less than an hundred years ago, these Scotchmen were in the habit of making the like scalping and tomahawking excursions upon the English farmer, that the North American savage makes upon the white people here. This is the general idea which our common people have of what Walter Scott calls "the border wars." Some of them will tell you that the Scotch go half naked in their own country—wear a blanket, and kill their enemies, with a knife, just like Indians. They say their features differ from the English as much as theirs do from the Indian. In a word, they suppose the Scotch Highlanders to be a race who have been conquered by the English, who have taught them the use of fire arms, and civilized them, in a degree, so as to form them into regiments of soldiers, and this imperfect idea of the half savage Sawney will not soon be corrected; and we must say that the general conduct of this harsh and self-interested race towards our prisoners, will not expedite the period of correct ideas relative to the comparative condition of the Scotch and English. The Americans have imbibed no prejudice against the Irish, having found them a brave, generous, jovial set of fellows, full of fun, and full of good, kind feelings; the antipodes of Scotchmen, who, as it regards these qualities, are cold, rough and barren; like the land that gave them birth.

We moved from Portsmouth to the Nore or Noah, for I know not the meaning of the word, or how to spell it. The place so called is the mouth of the river Thames, which runs through the capital of the British nation. We were three days on our passage. Here we were transferred to several tenders in order to be transported to Chatham. We soon entered the river Medway, which rises in Sussex, and passes by Tunbridge, Maidstone and Rochester, in Kent; and is then divided into two branches, called the east and west passage. The chief entrance is the west; and is defended by a considerable fort, called Sheerness. In this river lay a number of Russian men of war, detained here probably by way of pledge for the fidelity of the Emperor. What gives most celebrity to this river is Chatham, a naval station, where the English build and lay up their first rate men of war. It is but about thirty miles from London; or the distance of Newport, Rhode Island, from the town of Providence. We passed up to where the prison ships lay, after dark. The prospect appeared very pleasant, as the prison ships appeared to us illuminated. As we were all upon deck, we enjoyed the sight as we passed, and the commander of the tender appeared to partake of our pleasure. We were ordered on board the Crown Prince prison ship; and as our names were called over, we were marched along the deck between two rows of emaciated Frenchmen, who had drawn themselves up to review us. We then passed on to that part of the ship which was occupied by the Americans, who testified their curiosity at knowing all about us; and sticking to their national characteristic, put more questions to us in ten minutes, than we could well answer in as many hours. We passed the evening and the first part of the night in mutual communications; and we went to rest with more pleasure than for many a night before.

Our prison ship was moored in what they called Gillingham reach. We would here remark, that the river, and Thames, and Medway make, like all other rivers near to their outlets, many turnings or bendings; some forming a more obtuse, and some a more acute angle with their banks. This course of the river compels a vessel to stretch along in one direction, and then to stretch along in a very different direction. What the English call reaching, we in America call stretching. Each of these different courses of the river they call "reaches." They have their long reach and their short reach, and a number of reaches, under local, or less obvious names. Some are named after some of their own pirates, which is here and there designated by a gibbet; a singular object, be sure, to greet the eye of a stranger on entering the grand watery avenue of the capital of the British empire. But there is no room for disputing concerning our tastes. The reach where our prison was moored was about three miles below Chatham; and is named from the village of Gillingham. Now whether reach or stretch be the most proper term for an effort to sail against the wind, is left to be settled by those reverend monopolizers of all the arts and sciences, the London Reviewers; who, by the way, and we mention it pro bono publico, would very much increase their stock of knowledge and usefulness, if they would depute a few missionaries, for their own reverend body, to pass and repass the Atlantic in a British transport, containing in its black hole an hundred or two of Yankee prisoners of war: We do wish that the London Quarterly Reviewers particularly would take a trip in the Malabar; it would, if they should be so fortunate as to survive the voyage, make them better judges of the character of the English nation, and of the American nation, and of that nearly lost tribe, the Caledonian nation.

There were thirteen prison ships beside our own, all ships of the line, and one hospital ship, moored near each other. They were filled, principally, with Frenchmen, Danes and Italians. We found on our arrival twelve hundred Americans, chiefly men who had been impressed on board British men of war, and who had given themselves up, with a declaration that they would not fight against their own countrymen, and they were sent here and confined, without any distinction made between them and those who had been taken in arms. The injustice of the thing is glaring. During the night the prisoners were confined on the lower deck and on the main deck; but in the day time they were allowed the privilege of the "pound," so called, and the forecastle;—which was a comfortable arrangement compared with the black holes of the Regulus and Malabar. There were three officers on board our ship, a lieutenant, a sailing master, and a surgeon, together with sixty marines and a few invalids, or superannuated seamen to go in the boats. The whole were under the command of a commodore, while captain Hutchinson, agent for the prisoners of war, exercised a sort of control over the whole; but the butts and bounds of their jurisdiction I never knew. The commodore visited each of the prison ships every month, to hear and redress complaints, and to correct abuses, and to enforce wholesome regulations. All written communications, and all intercourse by letter passed through the hands of captain Hutchinson. If the letters contained nothing of evil tendency, they were suffered to pass; but if they contained any thing which the agent deemed improper, they were detained.

We found our situation materially altered for the better. Our allowance of food was more consonant to humanity than at Halifax, much more to the villanous scheme of starvation on board the Regulus, and the still more execrable Malabar. Our allowance of food here was half a pound of beef and a gill of barley, one pound and a half of bread, for five days in the week, and one pound of cod fish, and one pound of potatoes, or one pound of smoked herring, the other two days; and porter and small beer were allowed to be sold to us.—Boats with garden vegetables visited the ship daily; so that we now lived in clover compared with our former hard fare and cruel treatment. Upon the whole, I believe that we fared as well as could be expected, all things considered; and had such fare as we could do very well with; not that we fared so well as the British prisoners fare in America. Rich as the English nation is, it cannot well afford to feed us as we feed the British prisoners; such is the difference in the two countries in point of cheap food. On thanksgiving days, and on Christmas days, and such like holy days, we, in America, used to treat these European prisoners with geese, turkies, and plumb pudding. Many of these fellows declared that they never in their lives sat down to a table to a roasted turkey, or even a roasted goose. It is a fact, that when the time approached for drafting the British prisoners in Boston harbor, to send to Halifax to exchange them for our own men, several of the patriotic Englishmen, and many Irishmen, ran away; and when taken showed as much chagrin as our men would have felt, had they attempted to desert and run home from Halifax prison, and had been seized and brought back! This is a curious fact, and worthy the attention of the British politician. An American, in England, pines to get home; while an Englishman and an Irishman longs to become an American citizen! Ye wise men of England! the far famed England! the proud island whence we originally sprang, ponder well this fact; and confess that it will finally operate a great change in our respective countries; and that your thousand ships, your vast commerce, and your immense (factitious) riches cannot alter it. This inclination, or disposition, growing up in the hearts of that class of your subjects who are more disposed to follow the bent of their natural appetites than to cultivate patriotic opinions, will one day hoist our "bits of striped bunting" over those of your now predominating flag, and you long sighted politicians, see it as well as I do. The hard fare of your sailors and soldiers, the scoundrelism of some of your officers, especially those concerned in your provision departments; but above all, your shocking cruel punishments in your navy and in your army, have lessened their attachment to their native country. England has, from the beginning, blundered most wretchedly, for want of consulting the human heart, in preference to musty parchments; and the equally useless books on the law of nations. Believe me, ye great men of England, Scotland, Ireland and Berwick upon Tweed! that one chapter from the Law of Human Nature, is worth more than all your libraries on the law of nations. Beside, gentlemen, your situation is a new one. No nation was ever so situated and circumstanced as you are, with regard to us, your descendants. The history of nations does not record its parallel. Why then have recourse to books, or maritime laws, or written precedents?—In the code of the law of nations, you stand in need of an entirely New Chapter. We Americans, we despised Americans, are accumulating, as fast as we well can, the materials for that chapter. Your government began to write this chapter in blood; and for two years past we co-operated with you in the same way. Nothing stands still within the great frame of nature. On every sublunary thing mutability is written. Nothing can arrest the destined course of republics and kingdoms.

"Westward the course of empire takes its way."... Dean Berkley.

It is singular that while the Englishman and Irishman are disposed to abandon their native countries to dwell with us in this new world, the Scotchman has rarely shown that inclination. No—Sawney is loyal, and talks as big of his king and his country, as would an English country squire, surrounded by his tenants, his horses, and his dogs. It is singular that the Laplander, and the inhabitant of Iceland, are as much attached to their frightful countries, as the inhabitant of Italy, France or England; and when avarice, and the thirst for a domineering command leads the Scotchman out of his native rocks and barren hills, and treeless country, he talks of it as a second paradise, and as the ancient Egyptians longed after their onions and garlics, so these half-dressed, raw-boned-mountaineers, talk in raptures of their country, of their bag-pipes, their singed sheep's head, and their "haggiss." The only way that I can think of, (by way of preventing the hearts blood of Old England from being drained off into America,) is to people Nova Scotia and Newfoundland with Scotchmen; where they can raise a few sheep, for singing, and for haggiss; and where they can wear their Gothic habit, and be indulged in the luxury of the bag-pipe, enjoy over again their native fogs, and howling storms, and think themselves at home. Nature seems to have fixed the great articles of food in Nova Scotia to fish and potatoes; this last article is of excellent quality in that country. Then let these strangers, these transplanted Scotchmen, these hostes, these antipodes to the Americans, man the British fleet; and fill up the ranks of their armies, and mutual antipathy will prevent the dreaded coalition.

But I hasten to return from these people to my prison ship. Among other conveniences, we had a sort of a shed erected over the hatch-way, on which to air our hammocks. This was grateful to us all, especially to those whose learning had taught them the salutiferous effects of a free circulation of the vital air. It is surprising, that after what the English philosophers have written concerning the properties of the atmospheric air; after what Boyle, Mayhew, Hales and Priestly have written on this subject: and after what they have learnt from the history of the Calcutta black hole; and after what Howard has taught them concerning prisons and hospitals, it is surprising that in 1813, the commanders of national ships in the English service, should be allowed to thrust a crowd of men into those hideous black holes, situated in the bottom of their ships, far below the surface of the water. I have sometimes pleased myself with the hope that what is here written may contribute to the abolition of a practice so disgraceful to a nation; a nation which has the honor of first teaching mankind the true properties of the air; and of the philosophy of the healthy construction of prisons and hospitals; and one would suppose of healthy and convenient ships, for the prisoner, as well as for their own seamen.

Our situation, in the day time, was not unpleasant for prisoners of war. Confinement is disagreeable to all men, and very irksome to us, Yankees, who have rioted, as it were, from our infancy, in a sort of Indian freedom. Our situation was the most unpleasant during the night. It was the practice, every night at sun-set, to count the prisoners as they went down below; and then the hatch-ways were all barred down and locked, and the ladder of communication drawn up; and every other precaution that fear inspires, adopted, to prevent our escape, or our rising upon our prison keepers; for they never had half the apprehension of the French as of the Americans. They said the French were always busy in some little mechanical employment, or in gaming, or in playing the fool; but that the Americans seemed to be on the rack of invention to escape, or to elude some of the least agreeable of their regulations. In a word, they cared but little for the Frenchmen; but were in constant dread of the increasing contrivance, and persevering efforts of us Americans. They had built around the sides of the ship, and little above the surface of the water, a stage, or flooring, on which the sentries walked during the whole night, singing out, every half hour, "all's well." Beside these sentries marching around the ship, they had a floating-guard in boats, rowing around all the ships, during the live long night. Whenever these boats rowed past a sentinel, it was his duty to challenge them, and theirs to answer; and this was done to ascertain whether they were French or American boats, come to surprise, and carry by boarding, the Crown Prince! We used to laugh among ourselves at this ridiculous precaution. It must be remembered, that we were then up a small river, within thirty-two miles of London, and three thousand miles from our own country. However, "a burnt child dreads the fire," and an Englishman's fears may tell him, that what once happened, may happen again. About one hundred and fifty years ago, viz. in 1667, the Dutch sent one of their admirals up the river Medway, three miles above where we now lay, and singed the beard of John Bull. He has never entirely got over that fright, but turns pale and trembles ever since, at the sight, or name of a republican.

CHAPTER III.

Our prison ship contained a pretty well organized community. We were allowed to establish among ourselves an internal police for our own comfort and self government.—And here we adhered to the forms of our own adored constitution; for in place of making a King, Princes, Dukes, Earls, and Lords, we elected a President, and twelve Counsellors; who, having executive as well as legislative powers, we called Committee men. But instead of four years, they were to hold their offices but four weeks; at the end of which a new set was chosen, by the general votes of all the prisoners.

It was the duty of the President and his twelve counsellors, to make wholesome laws, and define crimes, and award punishments. We made laws and regulations respecting personal behaviour, and personal cleanliness; which last we enforced with particular care; for we had some lazy, lifeless, slack twisted, dirty fellows among us, that required attending to, like children. They were like hogs, whose delight it is to eat, sleep and wallow in the dirt, and never work.—We had, however, but very few of this low cast; and they were, in a great measure, pressed down by some chronical disorder. It was the duty of the President and the twelve committee men, or common council, to define, precisely, every act punishable by fine, whipping, or confinement in the black hole. I opposed, with all my might, this last mode of punishment, as unequal, inhuman, and disgraceful to our national character. I contended that we, who had suffered so much, and complained so loud of the black hole of the Regulus, Malabar, and other floating dungeons, should reject, from an humane principle, this horrid mode of torment. I urged, as a medical man, that the punishment of a confined black hole, was a very unequal mode of punishment; for that some men of weak lungs and debilitated habit, might die under the effects of that which another man could bear without much distress. I maintained that it was wicked, a sin against human nature, to take a well man, put him in a place that should destroy his health, and, very possibly, shorten his days, by engrafting on him some incurable disorder. Some, on the other side, urged, that as we were in the power of the British, we should not be uncivil to them; and that our rejection of the punishment of the black hole might be construed into a reflection on the English government; so we suffered it to remain in terrorem, with a strong recommendation not to have recourse to it but in very extraordinary cases. This dispute plunged me deep into the philosophy of crimes and punishments; and I am convinced, on mature reflection, that we, in America, are as much too mild in our civil punishments, as the British are too severe. May not our extreme lenity in punishing theft and murder, lead, in time, to the adoption of the bloody code of England, with their horrid custom of hanging girls and boys for petty thefts? Is it not a fact, that several convicted murderers have escaped lately with their lives, from a too tender mercy, which is cruelty? By what I have heard, I have inferred, that the Hollanders have drawn a just line between both.

We used to have our stated, as well as occasional courts. Beside a bench of judges, we had our orators, and expounders of our laws. It was amusing and interesting, to see a sailor, in his round short jacket, addressing the committee, or bench of judges, with a phiz as serious, and with lies as specious as any of our common lawyers in Connecticut.—They would argue, turn and twist, evade, retreat, back out, renew the attack, and dispute every inch of the ground, or rather the deck, with an address that astonished me. The surgeon of the ship said to me, one day, after listening to some of our native salt water pleaders, "these countrymen of yours are the most extraordinary men I ever met with. While you have such fellows as these, your country will never lose its liberty." I replied, that this turn for legislation arose from our being all taught to read and write.—"That alone, did not give them," said he, "this acuteness of understanding, and promptness of speech. It arises," said he, with great justness, "from fearless liberty."

I have already mentioned that we had Frenchmen in this prison-ship. Instead of occupying themselves with forming a constitution, and making a code of laws, and defining crimes, and adjusting punishments, and holding courts, and pleading for, and against the person arraigned, these Frenchmen had erected billiard tables, and rowletts, or wheels of fortune, not merely for their own amusement, but to allure the Americans to hazard their money, which these Frenchmen seldom failed to win.

These Frenchmen exhibited a considerable portion of ingenuity, industry and patience, in their little manufactories of bone, of straw, and of hair. They would work incessantly, to get money, by selling these trifling wares; but many of them had a much more expeditious way of acquiring cash, and that was by gaming at the billiard tables and the wheels of fortune. Their skill and address at these, apparent, games of hazard, were far superior to the Americans. They seemed calculated for gamesters; their vivacity, their readiness, and their everlasting professions of friendship, were nicely adapted to inspire confidence in the unsuspecting American Jack-Tar; who has no legerdemain about him. Most of the prisoners were in the way of earning a little money; but almost all of them were deprived of it by the French gamesters. Our people stood no chance with them; but were commonly stripped of every cent, whenever they set out seriously to play with them. How often have I seen a Frenchman capering, and singing, and grinning, in consequence of his stripping one of our sailors of all his money? while our solemn Jack-Tar was either scratching his head, or trying to whistle, or else walking slowly off, with both hands stuck in his pocket, and looking like John Bull, after concluding a treaty of peace with Louis Baboon.

I admire the French, and wish their nation to possess and enjoy peace, liberty and happiness; but I cannot say that I love these French prisoners. Beside common sailors, there are several officers of the rank of captains, lieutenants, and, I believe, midshipmen; and it is these that are the most adroit gamesters. We have all tried hard to respect them; but there is something in their conduct so much like swindling, that I hardly know what to say of them. When they knew that we had received money for the work we had been allowed to perform, they were very attentive, and complaisant, and flattering. Some had been, or pretended to have been, in America. They would come round and say, "ah! Boston fine town, very pretty—Cape Cod fine town, very fine. Town of Rhode Island superb. Bristol-ferry very pretty. General Washington tres grand homme! General Madison brave homme!" With these expressions, and broken English, they would accompany, with their monkey tricks, capering and grinning, and patting us on the shoulder, with "the Americans are brave men—fight like Frenchmen:" and by their insinuating manners, allure our men, once more, to their wheels of fortune and billiard tables; and as sure as they did, so sure did they strip them of all their money. I must either say nothing of these Frenchmen, officers and all; or else I must speak as I found them. I hope they were not a just sample of their whole nation; for these gentry would exercise every imposition, and even insinuate the thing that was not, the more easily to plunder us of our hard earned pittance of small change. Had they shown any generosity, like the British tar, I should have passed over their conduct in silence; but after they had stripped our men of every farthing, they would say to them—"Monsieur, you have won all our money, now lend us a little change to get us some coffee and sugar, and we will pay you when we shall earn more." "Ah, Mon Ami," says Monsieur, shrugging up his shoulders, "I am sorry, very sorry, indeed; it is le fortune du guerre. If you have lost your money, you must win it back again; that is the fashion in my country—we no lend; that is not the fashion." I have observed that these Frenchmen are fatalists. Good luck, or ill luck is all fate with them. So of their national misfortunes; they shrug up their shoulders, and ascribe all to the inevitable decrees of fate. This is very different from the Americans, who ascribe every thing to prudence or imprudence, strength or weakness. Our men say, that if the game was wrestling, playing at ball, or foot-ball, or firing at a mark, or rowing, or running a race, they should be on fair ground with them.—Our fellows offered to institute this game with them; that there should be a strong canvass bag, with two pieces of cord four feet long; and the contest should be, for one man to put the other in the bag, with the liberty of first tying his hands, or his feet, or both if he chose. Here would be a contest of strength and hardihood, but not of cunning or legerdemain. But the Frenchmen all united in saying, "No! No! No! It is not the fashion in our country to tie gentlemen up in sacks."

There were here some Danes, as well as Dutchmen. It is curious to observe their different looks and manners, which I can hardly believe to be owing, entirely, to the manner of bringing up. Here we see the thick skulled plodding Dane, making a wooden dish; or else some of the most ingenious making a very clumsy ship: while others submitted to the dirtiest drudgery of the hulk, for money; and there we see a Dutchman, picking to pieces tarred ropes, which, when reduced to its original form of hemp, they call oakum; or else you see him lazily stowed away in some corner, with his pipe, surrounded with smoke, and "steeping his senses in forgetfulness;" while here and there, and every where, you find a lively singing Frenchman, working in hair; or carving out of a bone, a lady, a monkey, or the central figure of the crucifixion! Among the specimens of American ingenuity, I most admired their ships, which they built from eight inches to five feet long. Some of them were said by the navy officers, to be perfect, as regarded proportion, and exact, as it regarded the miniature representation of a merchantman, sloop of war, frigate, or ship of the line. By the specimens of ingenuity of these people, of different nations, you could discover their respective ruling passions.

Had not the French proved themselves to be a very brave people, I should have doubted it, by what I observed of them on board the prison-ship. They would scold, quarrel and fight, by slapping each other's chops with the flat hand, and cry like so many girls. I have often thought that one of our Yankees, with his iron fist, could, by one blow, send monsieur into his nonentity. Perhaps such a man as Napoleon Bonaparte, could make any nation courageous; but there is some difference between courage and bravery. I have been amused, amid captivity, on observing the volatile Frenchman singing, dancing, fencing, grinning and gambling, while the American tar lifts his hardy front and weather beaten countenance, despising them all, but the dupe of them all; just about as much disposed to squander his money among girls and fiddlers, as the English sailor; but never so in love with it, as to study the arts, tricks and legerdemain to obtain it. I have, at times, wondered that the hard fisted Yankee did not revenge impositions on the skulls of some of these blue-skinned sons of the old continent. Is there not a country, where there is one series or chain of impositions, from the Pope downwards? There is no such thing in the United States. That is a country of laws; and their very sailors are all full of "rights" and "wrongs;" of "justice and injustice;" and of defining crimes, and ascertaining "the butts and bounds" of national and individual rights.

It was a pleasant circumstance, that I could now and then obtain some entertaining books. I had read most of Dean Swift's works, but had never met with his celebrated allegory of John Bull, until I found it on board this prison-ship. I read this little work with more delight than I can express. I had always heard the English nation, including kings, lords, commons, country squires, and merchants, called "John Bull," but I never before knew that the name originated from this piece of wit of Dean Swift's. Now I learnt, for the first time, that the English king, court and nation, taken collectively, were characterized under the name of John Bull; and that of France under the name of Louis Baboon; and that of the Dutch of Nick Frog; and that of Spain under Lord Strut; that the church of England was called John's mother; the parliament his WIFE; and Scotland his poor, ill-treated, raw-boned, mangy Sister Peg. While I was shaking my sides at the comical characteristical painting of the witty Dean of St. Patrick, the Frenchmen would come around me to know what the book contained, which so much tickled my fancy; they thought it was an obscene book, and wished some one to translate it to them: but all they could get out of me was the words "John Bull and Louis Baboon!"

It is now the 30th of November, a month celebrated to a proverb in England, for its gloominess. We have had a troubled sky and foggy for several weeks past. The pleasant prospect of the surrounding shores has been obscured a great portion of this month. The countenances of our companions partake of our dismal atmosphere. It has even sobered our Frenchmen; they do not sing and caper as usual; nor do they swing their arms about, and talk with strong emphasis of every trifle. The thoughts of home obtrude upon us; and we feel as the poor Jews felt on the banks of the Euphrates, when their task-masters and prison-keepers insisted upon their singing a song. We all hung up our fiddles, as the Jews did their harps, and sat about, here and there, like barn-door fowls, when molting.

Our captivity on the banks of the river Medway, bordered with willows, brought to my mind the plaintive song of the children of Israel, in captivity on the banks of the river Euphrates, which psalm, among others, I used to sing with my mother and sisters, on Sunday evenings, when an innocent boy, and long before the wild notion of rambling, from a comfortable and plentiful home, came into my head. It is the 137th Psalm, Tate and Brady's version.

When we our weary limbs to rest
Sat down by proud Euphrates' stream,
We wept, with doleful thoughts opprest,
And Salem was our mournful theme.

Our harps, that, when with joy we sung,
Were wont their tuneful parts to bear,
With silent strings, neglected hung,
On willow trees, that wither'd there.

Meanwhile our foes, who all conspir'd
To triumph in our slavish wrongs,
Music and mirth of us requir'd,
"Come, sing us one of Zion's songs."

How shall we tune our voice to sing?
Or touch our harps with skilful hands?
Shall hymns of joy to God, our King,
Be sung by slaves in foreign lands?

O, Salem! Our once happy seat,
When I of thee forgetful prove,
Let then my trembling hand forget
The speaking strings with art to move!

If I, to mention thee, forbear,
Eternal silence seize my tongue!
Or if I sing one cheerful air,
Till my deliv'rance is my song.

CHAPTER IV.

I come now to a delicate subject; and shall speak accordingly, with due caution; I mean the character and conduct of Mr. Beasly, the American Agent for prisoners. He resides in the city of London, thirty-two miles from this place. There have been loud and constant complaints made of his conduct towards his countrymen, suffering confinement at three thousand miles distance from all they hold most dear and valuable; and he but half a day's journey from us. Mr. Beasly knew that there were some thousands of his countrymen imprisoned in a foreign land for no crime; but for defending, and fighting under the American flag, that emblem of national independence, and sovereignty; if he reflected at all, he must have known these countrymen of his were, in general, thinking men; men who had homes, and "fire places."[D] He knew they had, some of them, fathers and mothers, wives and children, brothers and sisters, in the United States, who lived in houses that had "fire places," and that they had, in general, been brought up in more ease and plenty than the same class in England; he knew they were a people of strong affections to their relatives, and strong attachments to their country; and he might have supposed that some of them had as good an education as himself; he must, or ought to have thought constantly that they were suffering imprisonment, deprivations and occasionally sickness in a foreign country, where he is specially commissioned, and placed to attend to their comforts, relieve, if practicable their wants, and to be the channel of communication between them and their families. The British commander, or commodore of all the prison ships in this river visited them all once a month; and paid good attention to all their wants.

When we first arrived here, we wrote in a respectful style to Mr. Beasly, as the Agent from our government for the prisoners in England. We glanced at our sufferings at Halifax; and stated our extreme sufferings on the passage to England, and until we arrived in the river Medway. We remarked that we expected that the government of the United States intended to treat her citizens in captivity in a foreign land all equally alike. We represented to him that we were, in general, destitute of clothing, and many conveniences, that a trifling sum of money would obtain; that we did not doubt the good will, and honorable intentions of our government; and that he doubtless knew of their kind intentions towards us all.—But he never returned a word of answer. We found that all those prisoners, who had been confined here at Chatham, from the commencement of the war, bore Mr. Beasly an inveterate hatred. They accuse him of an unfeeling neglect, and disregard to their pressing wants. They say he never visited them but once; and that then his conduct gave more disgust, than his visit gave pleasure. "Where there is much smoke there must be some fire." The account they gave is this—that when he came on board, he seemed fearful that they would come too near him; he therefore requested that additional sentries might be placed on the gangways, to keep the prisoners from coming aft, on the quarter deck. He then sent for one of their number, said a few words to him relative to the prisoners; but not a word of information in answer to the questions repeatedly put to him; and of which we were all very anxious to hear. He acted as if he was afraid that any questions should be put to him; so that without waiting to hear a single complaint, and without waiting to examine into any thing respecting their situation, their health, or their wants, he hastily took his departure, amidst the hooting and hisses of his countrymen, as he passed over the side of the ship.

Written representations of the neglect of this (nominal) agent for us prisoners, were made to the government of the United States, which we sent by different conveyances; but whether they ever reached the person of the Secretary of State, we never knew. Several individuals among the prisoners wrote to Mr. Beasly for information on subjects in which their comfort and happiness were concerned, but received no answer. Once, indeed, a letter was received from his clerk, in an imperious style, announcing that no notice would be taken of any letters from individuals; (which was probably correct) but those only that were written by the committee collectively. The committee accordingly wrote; but their letter was treated with the same silent neglect. This desertion of his countrymen, in their utmost need, excited an universal expression of disgust, if not resentment. Cut off from their own country, surrounded only by enemies, swindled by their neighbors, winter coming on, and no clothing proper for the approaching season, and the American agent for themselves and other prisoners, within three or four hours journey, and yet abandoned by him to the tender mercies of our declared enemies, it is no wonder that our prisoners detested, at length, the name of Beasly. We made every possible allowance for this gentleman; we said to each other, he may have no funds; he may have the will, but not the power to help us; his commission, and his directions may not extend so high as our expectations; still we could make no excuse for his not visiting us, and enquiring, and seeing for himself our real situation. He might have answered our letters; and encouraged us not to despair, but to hope for relief; he might have visited us as often as did the English Commodore, which was once in four weeks; but he should not have insulted our feelings, the only time he did visit us, and humble and mortify us in the view of the Frenchmen, who saw, and remarked that our agent considered us no more than so many hogs. The Emperor Napoleon has visited some of his hospitals in cog. has viewed the situation of the sick and wounded; examined their food, and eaten of their bread; and once threw a cup of wine in the face of a steward, because he thought it not good enough for the soldier; but—some of our agents are men of more consequence, in their own eyes, than Napoleon!

During the war it was stated to our government that six thousand two hundred and fifty-seven seamen had been pressed and forcibly detained on board British ships of war.—Events have proved the correctness of this statement; and this slavery has been a subject of merriment, and a theme for ridicule among the "federalists." They say it makes no more difference to a sailor what ship he is on board, than it does to a hog what stye he is in. Others not quite so brutal, have said—"hush! it may be so; but we must bear it; England is mistress of the Ocean; and her existence depends on this practice of impressment; her naval power must be submitted to—give us, merchants, commerce, and these Jack Tars will take care of themselves; for it is not worth while to lose a profitable trade for the sake of a few ignorant sailors, who never had any rights; and who have neither liberty, property or homes, but what we merchants give to them."

The American Seamen on board the Crown Prince, were chiefly men who had been impressed into the British Navy previous to the war; but who, on hearing of the Declaration of War against Great Britain by the people of the United States, gave themselves up as prisoners of war; but instead of being directly exchanged, the English Government thought it proper to send them on board these prison ships to be retained there during the war; evidently to prevent them from entering into our own navy. It should be remembered that they were all citizens of the United States, sailing in merchant ships; and yet the merchants, at least those of Boston, and the other New-England sea-ports, have, very generally, mocked the complaints of impressed seamen, and derided their representations, and have even denied the story of their impressment. Even the Governor of Massachusetts (Strong) has affected in his public speeches to the Legislature to represent this crying outrage, as the mere groundless clamor of a party opposed to his election? Whether groundless or not, I will venture to assert, that the names of many of the leading federalists in Massachusetts, and a few others will never be forgotten by the inhabitants of the prison ships at Chatham, at Halifax, and in the West Indies.

We are now at peace, and the tide of party has so far slackened, that we can tell the truth without the suspicion of political, or party designs. I shall relate only what I have collected from the men themselves, who were never in the way of reading our newspapers, or of hearing of the speeches of the friends of the British in Congress; or in our State Legislatures. I think I ought, however, here to premise, that my family were of that party in Massachusetts called Federal, that is, we voted for Governor Strong, and federal Senators and Representatives; our clergyman was also federal, and preached and prayed federally; and we read none but federal newspapers, and associated with none but federalists; of course we believed all that Governor Strong said, and approved all that our Senators and Representatives voted, and believed all that was printed in the Boston federal papers. The whole family, and myself with them, believed all that Colonel Timothy Pickering had written about impressment of seamen, and about the weakness, and wickedness of the President and administration; we believed them all to be under the pay and influence of Bonaparte, who we knew was the first Lieutenant of Satan. We believed all that was said about "Free trade and sailors' rights," was all stuff and nonsense, brought forward by the Republicans, whom we called Democrats and Jacobins, to gull the people out of their liberty and property, in order to surrender both to the Tyrant of France. We believed entirely that the war was "unnecessary" and "wicked," and declared with no other design but to injure England and gratify France. We believed also that the whole of the administration, and every man of the Republican party, from Jefferson and Madison, down to our —— was either fool or knave. If we did not believe that every republican was a scoundrel, we were sure and certain that every scoundrel was a republican. In some points our belief was as strong and as fixed as any in the papal dominions; for example—we maintained stiffly that Governor Strong, Lieut. Governor Phillips, H. G. Otis, and John Lowell and Francis Blake, Esqrs. were, for talents, knowledge, piety and virtue, the very first men in the United States, and ought to be at the head of the nation: or—to express it all in one word, as my sister once did, "Federalism is the politics of a GENTLEMAN, and of a LADY; but Republicanism is the low cant of the vulgar; of such men as your Tom Jeffersons, Jim Madisons, and John Adams', and Col. Monroes."

With these expanded and enlightened ideas of men and things, did I, Perigrinus Americanus, quit my father's house ease and plenty, to make a short trip in a Privateer, more for a frolic than for any thing serious, being very little concerned whether I was taken or not, provided my capture would be the means of carrying me among the people whom I had long adored for their superior bravery, magnanimity, religion, knowledge, and justice; which opinions I had imbibed from their own writers, in verse and prose. Beside the federal newspapers, I had dipped into the posthumous works of Fisher Ames, enough to inspire me with adoration of England, abhorrence of France, and a contempt for my own country; or to express all in a fewer words, I was a Federalist of the Boston stamp. These are the outlines of my preconceived opinions, which I carried with me into Melville Prison, at Halifax. I was not the only one by many, who entered that abode of misery with similar notions. How often have I wished that Governor Strong, and his principal supporters, were here with us, learning wisdom, and acquiring just notions of men, things and governments.

But to return from the Governor and Council, and other great men of Massachusetts, to the British prison ship at Chatham.—The British had been in the habit of pressing the sailors from our merchant ships, ever since the year 1755. The practice was always abhorred, and often resisted, and sometimes even unto death. We naturally inferred that, with our independence, we should preserve the persons of our citizens from violence and deep disgrace; for, to an American, a whipping is a degradation worse than death.—Since the termination of the war with England, which guaranteed our independence, the British never pretended to impress American citizens; but pretended to the right of entering our vessels, and taking from them the natives of Britain or Ireland, and this was their general rule of conduct;—they would forcibly board our vessels, and the boarding-officer, who was commonly a lieutenant, completely armed with sword, dirk, and loaded pistols, would muster the crew, and examine the persons of the sailors, as a planter examines a lot of negroes exposed for sale; and all the thin, puny, or sickly men, he allowed to be Americans—but all the stout, hearty, red cheeked, iron fisted, chestnut colored, crispy haired fellows, were declared to be British; and if such men showed their certificates of citizenship, and place of birth, they were pronounced forgeries, and the unfortunate men were dragged over the side into the boat, and forced on board his floating hell! Not a day in the year, but there occurred such a scene as this, somewhere on the seas; and to our shame be it spoken, we endured this outrage on man through the administration of Washington, Adams,[E] and Jefferson, before we declared war to revenge the villany. If an high spirited man, thus kidnap'd, refused to work, he was first deprived of victuals; and if starvation did not induce him to work, he was stripped, and tied up, and whipped like a thief!—and many a noble spirited fellow suffered this accursed punishment. If he seized the first opportunity, as he ought, to run away from his tyrants, and was taken, he was severely whipped; and for a second attempt the punishment was doubled, and for the third he was hanged, or shot.

It happened on our declaration of war, chiefly on account of this atrocious treatment of the sailors, that thousands of our countrymen had been impressed into the British navy, and more or less were found in almost every ship; most of these informed their respective captains, that being American citizens, they could not remain in the service of a nation, to aid them in killing their brethren; and in pulling down the flag of their native country. They declared firmly, that it was fighting against nature for a man to fight against his native land, the only land to which he owed a natural duty. Some noble British commanders admired their patriotic spirit, and permitted them to quit their ships, and go to prison: while other captains, of an opposite and ignoble character, refused to hear their declarations, and ordered them to return to what they called their duty; which they accompanied with threats of severe punishment if they disobeyed. But some, whose noble spirits would have honored any man, or station, adhered to their first determination, not to fight against their own brothers; or aid in pulling down the flag of their nation. These were immediately put in irons, and fed on scanty allowance of bread and water; for if any thing can bring down the high spirit of an hearty young man, it is the slow torture of hunger and thirst; when it was found that this had not the effect of debasing the American spirit, the young sufferer was brought upon deck, and stripped to his waist, and sometimes lower, and—Oh! my pen cannot write it for indignation! resentment, and a righteous revenge shakes my hand with rage, while I attempt to record the act of villany. Yes, my countrymen and my countrywomen, our noble minded young men, brought up in more ease and plenty than half the officers of a British man of war, are violently stripped, and tied fast and immoveable by a rope, to a cannon, or to the iron railing of what is called the gang-way, and when he is so fixed as to stretch the skin and muscles to the utmost, he is whipped by a long, heavy and hard knotted whip, four times more formidable and heavy than the whip allowed to be used by the carters, truck, or carmen, on their horses. With this heavy and knotted scourge, the boatswain's mate, who is generally selected for his strength, after stripping off his jacket, that he may strike the harder, lashes this young man, on his delicate skin, until his back is cut from his shoulders to his waist! Few men, of ordinary feelings of humanity, could bear to see, without great emotion, even a thief, or a robber, so severely punished. But what must be the feelings of an American, to see such a cruel operation upon the body of his countryman, of his mess-mate and companion? We will venture to say, that if a dog, or an horse, were tied fast to a post, in any street of any town in America, and lashed with such an heavy knotted whip, swung by the strong arm of a vigorous man, although their skins were covered and defended by their hair, or fur, we do not believe that the inhabitants would see it inflicted on the poor beast, without carrying the whipper before a magistrate, to answer for his cruelty. Yet what is the whipping of a beast, devoid of reason, and covered with fur, to this severe operation upon the delicate skin and flesh of one of our young men? And all, for what? For nobly maintaining and upholding the first and great principle of our nature. Yet has this heroism of our enslaved seamen been overlooked; and even derided by the federal merchant and the federal politician, and the federal member of congress, and the federal clergyman! Some of our brave fellows have been brought upon deck, every punishing day, and undergone this horrid punishment, three or four times over, until the crews of the men of war were disposed to cry out shame, upon their own officers! Some of our poor fellows could not sustain these repeated tortures, which is not to be wondered at, and have finally gone to work as soon as they recovered from their barbarous usage. Others, of firmer frames and firmer minds, have wearied out their persecutors, whose infernal dispositions they have defied, and triumphed over; such have been sent out of the ship into our prison-ships; and here they are, to tell their own story, to show to their countrymen the everlasting marks of their tormentors, the British navy officers. With what indignation, rage and horror, have I seen our brave fellows actuated, while one of these heroes of national rights, and national character, has been relating his sufferings, and showing his degrading scars, made on his body by the accursed whip of a boatswain's mate, by order of an infamous captain of the British navy! You talk of peace, friendship and cordiality with the nation from whom most of us sprang! It is well, perhaps, that the two nations should be at peace politically; but can you ever expect cordiality to subsist between our impressed and cruelly treated sailor, and a British navy officer. It is next to impossible. Our ill treated sailor, lacerated in his flesh, wounded in his honor, and debased by the slavish hand of a boatswain's mate, never can forget the barbarians; nor ever can, nor ever ought to forgive them. The God of nature has ordained that nations should be separated by a difference of language, religion, customs, and manners, for wise purposes; but where two great nations, like the English and American, have the same language, institutions and manners, he may possibly have allowed the devil to inspire one with a portion of his own infernal spirit of cruelty, in order to effect a separation, and keep apart two people, superficially resembling each other.

It may be for good and wise purposes, in the order of Providence, that there should be a partition wall between us and Britain. We have had to deplore that three thousand miles of ocean is not half enough; for avarice, fashion and folly, are continually drawing us together; and these often drown the still small voice of patriotism, whose language is, "Come out of her, O my people!" There is nothing that tends so strongly to keep us asunder, as the different dispositions of the two people. The Americans are a kind, humane, tender-hearted people, as free from cruelty as any nation upon earth; and possessing as much generosity towards an enemy they have vanquished, and who is at their mercy, as any people to be found on the records of the human kind. Their laws express it; the records of their courts prove it; the history of the war illustrates it; and I hope that all our actions declare it. We may change, and become as hard hearted and cruel as the English. It may be that we are now in the chivalrous age, or that period of our political existence, which is the generous, youthful stage of a nation's life; this may pass away, and we may sink into the cold, phlegmatic, calculating cruelty of the present Britons; and become, like them, objects of hatred to our own descendants. Whatever we may, in the course of degeneration, become, we assert it, as an incontrovertible fact, that the Britons are now, and have been for many generations past, vastly our inferiors on the score of polished humanity. On this subject, we would refer the reader to the History of England, written by eminent Englishmen and Scotchmen, and to Shakespeare's historical plays; and to the records of their courts, the annals of Newgate, and of the Tower; and to their penal code, generally; but above all, to their horrid military punishments, in their army, and in their navy; and then contrast the whole with the history of America; of her courts, and of her army, and navy punishments.

We would not indulge invective, nor lightly give vent to the language of resentment; but truth and utility compels us to speak of the English as they really are. Their whole history marks them a hard hearted, cruel race, and such we prisoners have found them. We will not have recourse to so early a period as the reign of Richard the 3d, or Harry the 8th, or his cruel daughter Mary, but we refer to the latter part of Charles 2d, a reign of mirth, frolic and unusual gaiety of heart, and not a period of austerity and gloom. The instance we here adduce, was not the furious cruelty of a mob, or of exasperated soldiery storming a town; but of courtiers, privy counsellors, and advisers of the good humored Charles the 2d.

William Carstares, confidential Secretary to King William, during the whole of his reign; afterwards Principal of the University of Edinburgh, was a sincere and zealous friend both to religious and civil liberty, and he lived in reputation and honor till Dec. 28th, 1715. This worthy man was put to the torture before the privy council, in the latter end of the reign of Charles the Second. The Rev. Joseph M'Cormick, D.D. who has written his life, and detailed an account of his fortitude and sufferings in the cause of liberty, says, "that all his objections and remonstrances being over-ruled by the majority of the privy counsel, the public executioner was called upon to perform his inhuman office. A thumb-screw had been prepared on purpose, of a peculiar construction. Upon its being applied, Mr. Carstares maintained such a command of himself, that, whilst the sweat streaming over his brow, and down his cheeks, with the agony he endured, he never betrayed the smallest inclination to depart from his first resolution. The Earl of Queensberry was so affected, that, after telling the chancellor, that he saw that the poor man would rather die than confess, he stepped out of the council, along with the duke of Hamilton, into another room, both of them being unable longer to witness the scene; whilst the inhuman Perth sat to the very last, without discovering the least symptom of compassion for the sufferer. On the contrary, when the executioner, by his express order, was turning the screw with such violence, that Mr. Carstares, in the extremity of his pain, cried out, that now he had squeezed the bones in pieces, the chancellor, in great indignation, told him, that, if he continued longer obstinate, he hoped to see every bone of his body squeezed to pieces. At last, finding all their efforts by means of this machinery fruitless, after he had continued no less than an hour and an half under this painful operation, they found it necessary to have recourse to a still more intimidating species of torture. The executioner was ordered to produce the iron boots, and apply them to his legs; but happily for Mr. Carstares, whose strength was now almost exhausted, the fellow, who was only admitted of late to this office, and a novice in his trade, after having attempted in vain to fasten them properly, was obliged to give it over; and the counsel adjourned for some weeks."

If to this shameful account we add their cruelty to the vanquished Scotch, in 1745, and of late years towards the brave Irish, together with what we have known of them in the revolutionary war, and in the present one, we can feel no pride in claiming kindred with them. They are a sluggish, cold, hard-fibred race of men, on whom soft and delicate airs of music make no agreeable impression. Loud and thundering sounds, such as the ringing of heavy bells, beating of drums, and firing of cannon, and the gothic hourra are requisite to move the phlegm that surrounds the tough heart of old John Bull.

When the Algerines captured some of our vessels, and made slaves of the crew, a very high degree of sensibility was excited. It was the theme of every newspaper and oration, and the subject of almost every conversation. The horror of Algerine slavery was considered as the ne plus ultra of human misery; but it has so happened, that we have many sailors returned again to their country, who have been enslaved at Algiers; and have been impressed and detained on board British men of war, and afterwards thrown into their prison-ships. The united opinion of these people is, the Algerine slavery is much more tolerable than the British slavery. The Algerines make the common sailors work from six to eight hours in the day; but they give them very good vegetable food, and enough of it; and lodge them in airy places; and always dispose the officers according to their rank; whereas the British seem to take a delight in confounding and mixing together, the officers with their men. As to their punishments among themselves, they will cut off a man's head; and strangle him with a bowstring, in a summary manner; but a Turk, or Algerine, would sicken at the sight of a whipping in the navy; and in the army of the Christian king of England. There is no nation upon this globe of earth that treats its soldiers and sailors with that degree of barbarity common to their camps, garrisons and men of war; for what they lack in the number of lashes on board a ship, they make up in the severity of infliction, so as to render the punishment nearly equal to the Russian knout.

If any one is curious to see British military flogging treated scientifically, I would refer him to chapter xii, vol. 2d, of Dr. R. Hamilton's Duties of a Regimental Surgeon, from page 22 to 82. The reading of it is enough to spoil an hungry man's dinner. We there read of the suppuration, and stench that follow after seven or eight hundred lashes; and that some men have complained that its offensiveness was almost equal to the whipping. We there read of the surgeon discharging a pound and a half of matter from an abscess, formed in consequence of a merciless punishment.—The reader may also be entertained with the discussion, whether it is best to wash the cats clear from the blood, (for the executioners lay on twenty-five strokes, and then another twenty-five, and so on, till the nine hundred or a thousand, ordered, are finished) or whether it is best to let the blood dry on the knots of the whip, in order to make it cut the sharper. There, too, you may learn the advantage of having the naked wretch tied fast and firm, so that he may not wring and twist about to avoid the torture, which, he says, if not attended to, may destroy the sight, by the whip cutting his eyes; or his cheeks and breasts may be cut for want of this precaution. He says, however, that in those regiments, who punish by running the gauntlet, it is almost impossible to prevent the man from being cut from the nape of the neck to his hams. You will there find a description of a neat contrivance, used at Gibraltar, which was compounded of the stocks and the pillory. The soldier's legs were held firm in two apertures of a thick plank, while his body and head were bent down to a plank placed in a perpendicular direction, to receive the man's head, and two more apertures to confine his arms. In this immoveable posture, human beings, Englishmen, Irishmen and Scotchmen, have had their flesh lacerated for more than half an hour! But the Doctor informs us, that the men did not like this new contrivance, as it checked their vociferation and injured their lungs; so it was discontinued; and they returned again to the halberts, where their hands were tied up over their heads. Some of these poor wretches have been known to gnaw the flesh of their own arms, in the agonies of torture; and many of them have died with internal impostumes.

Americans! think of these barbarities, and bless the memories of those statesmen and warriors, who have separated you, as a nation, from a cruel people, who have neither bowels of compassion, nor any tenderness of feeling, for the soldier, or the sailor. They value them, and care for them on the same principle that we value a horse, and no more, merely as an animal that is useful to them. I have for some time believed that America would be the grave of the British character. Our free presses dare speak of their military whippings, without fearing the punishment inflicted on the Editor of their Political Register, as drawn by one of themselves.[F]

Those pressed men liberated from the British men of war, and sent on board this ship, the Crown Prince, that is, sent from one prison to another, are large, well made, fine looking fellows, for such they usually select as Englishmen.—Some of them were men of colour. The following anecdote does honor to the character of Sir Sidney Smith, as well as to that of our brave tars. Sir Sidney was then off Toulon. On the news reaching the crew that the United States had declared war against England, all the Americans on board had determined not to fight against their country, or aid in striking its flag; they therefore asked permission to speak with Sir Sidney, who permitted them to come altogether on the quarter deck; they told him they were all Americans by birth, and impressed against their will into the British service; and forcibly detained; that although they had consented to do the duty of Englishmen on board his ship, they could not fight against their own country.—"Nor do I wish you should," was the answer of this gallant knight. On being reminded by one of his officers, that they were nearly all petty officers—he observed to them, that they had been promoted in consequence of their good behaviour; and that if they could, as he hoped they would, reconcile themselves to the service, he should continue to promote them, and reward their good behaviour. They thanked him; but assured him that it was against their principles, as Americans, and against a sense of duty towards their beloved country, to fight against their brethren, or to aid in pulling down the emblem of their nation's sovereignty. He promised to report the business to his superiors; and turning to one of his officers, said, "I wish all Englishmen were as strongly attached to their country, as these Americans are to theirs."

Another instance of a British commander, the opposite of this, is worth relating. I give it as the sufferer related it to us all; and as confirmed by other testimony beside his own. The man declared himself to be an American, and as such, asked for his discharge. The captain said he lied; that he was no American, but an Englishman; and that he only made this declaration to get his liberty; and he ordered him to be severely whipped; and on every punishing day, he was asked if he still persisted in calling himself an American, and in refusing to do duty? The man obstinately persisted. At length the captain became enraged to a high degree; he ordered the man to be stripped, and tied up to the gratings, and after threatening him with the severest flogging that was in his power to inflict, he asked the man if he would avoid the punishment, and do his duty? "Yes," said the noble sailor, "I will do my duty, and that is to blow up your ship the very first opportunity in my power." This was said with a stern countenance, and a corresponding voice. The captain seemed astonished, and first looking over his larboard shoulder, and then over his starboard shoulder, said to his officers, "this is a damn'd queer fellow! I do not believe he is an Englishman. I suppose he is crazy; so you may unlash him, boatswain:" and he was soon after sent out of that ship into this prison-ship. This man will carry the marks of the accursed cat to his grave!

O, ye Tories! ye Federalists, ye every thing but what you should be, who have derided the sufferings of the sailor, and mocked at his misery—had you one half of the heroic virtue that filled and sustained the brave heart of this noble sailor, you would cease to eulogize these tyrants of the ocean, or to revile your own government for drawing the sword, and running all risks to redress the wrongs of the oppressed sailor. The cruel conduct of the British ought to be trumpeted through the terraqueous globe; but we would feign cover over, if possible, the depravity of some few of our merchants and politicians, who regard a sailor in the same light as a truckman does his horse.

Several of these impressed men have declared, that in looking back on their past sufferings, on board English men of war, and comparing it with their present confinement at Chatham, they feel themselves in a Paradise. The ocean, the mirror of heaven, is as much the element of an American as an Englishman. The great Creator has given it to us, as well as to them; and we will guard its honor accordingly, by chasing cruelty from its surface, whether it shall appear in the habit of a Briton or an Algerine.

CHAPTER V.

It is now the last day of the year 1813; and we live pretty comfortably. Prisoners of war, confined in an old man-of-war hulk, must not expect to sleep on beds of down; or to fare sumptuously every day, as if we were at home with our indulgent mothers and sisters. All things taken into consideration, I believe we are nearly as well treated here, in the river Medway, as the British prisoners are in Salem or Boston; not quite so well fed with fresh meat, and a variety of vegetables, because this country does not admit of it. We nevertheless do suffer as we did at Halifax; and above all, we suffered on board the floating dungeons, the transports, and store-ship Malabar, beyond expression.

All the Frenchmen are sent out of the ship, excepting about forty officers; and these are all gamblers, ready and willing, and able to fleece us all, had we ever so much money. I wonder that the prison-ship-police has not put down this infamous practice. It is a fomenter of almost all the evil passions; of those particularly which do the least honor to the human heart. Our domestic faction have uttered a deal of nonsense about a French influence in America.—By what I have observed here, I never can believe that the French will ever have any influence to speak of, in the United States. We never agreed with them but in one point, and that was in our hatred to the English. There we united cordially; there we could fight at the same gun; and there we could mingle our blood together. The English may thank themselves for this. They, with their friends and allies, the Algerines and the Savages of our own wilderness, have made a breach in that great Christian family, whose native language was the English; which is every year growing wider and wider.

January, 1814.—We take two or three London newspapers, and through them know a little what is going forward in the world. We find by them that Joanna Southcote, and Molenaux, the black bruiser, engross the attention of the most respectable portion of John Bull's family. Not only the British officers, but the ladies wear the orange colored cockade, in honor of the Prince of Orange, because the Dutch have taken Holland. The yellow, or orange color, is all the rage; it has been even extended to the clothing of the prisoners. Our sailors say that it is because we are under the command of a yellow Admiral, or at least a yellow Commodore, which is about the same thing.

About this time there came on board of us a recruiting sergeant, to try to enlist some of our men in the service of the Prince Regent. He offered us sixteen guineas; but he met with no success. Some of them "bored" him pretty well. We had a very good will to throw the slave overboard; but as we dare not, we contented ourselves with telling him what a flogging the Yankees would give him and his platoon, when they got over to America.

About five hundred prisoners have recently arrived in this "reach," from Halifax. There are between one hundred and fifty and two hundred of Colonel Boestler's men, who were deceived, decoyed, and captured near Beaver Dams, on the twenty-third of June, 1813. These men were principally from Pennsylvania and Maryland. It is difficult to describe their wretched appearance; and as difficult to narrate their suffering on the passage, without getting into a rage, inconsistent with the character of an impartial journalist.

To the everlasting disgrace of the British government, and of a British man of war, be it known, that these miserable victims to hardheartedness, were crowded together in the black hole of a ship, as we were, just like sheep in a sheep-fold. They allowed but two to come upon deck at a time. They were covered with nastiness, and overrun with vermin; for these poor creatures were not allowed to wash their clothes, or themselves. O, how my soul did abhor the English, when I saw these poor soldiers! It is no wonder that people who only see and judge of the Americans by the prisoners, that they conceive us to be a horde of savages. They see us while prisoners, in the most degraded and odious light that we ever before saw or felt ourselves in. I can easily conceive how bad and scanty food, dirt, vermin, and a slow chronical disease, or low spirits, may change the temper and character of large bodies of men. I would advise all my countrymen, should it ever be their hard lot to be again in British bondage, to exert themselves to appear as clean and smart in their persons, as their situation will possibly admit. That I may not be accused of pronouncing the English a cruel people, without proving my assertions, I will here ask my reader to have recourse to the speech of Sir Robert Heron, made in Parliament, in April, 1816, where he recites the treatment of the poor in the alms-houses at Lincoln. After a painful recital of the miserable state of the work-house in that city, he mentioned "that there were five cells strongly guarded with iron bolts, not for the reception, of lunatics, but for the punishment of such poor persons as might fall into any transgression. In each of these were strong iron staples in the wall and floor, to which the poor delinquent was chained. Among several instances of cruelty, the worthy Baronet mentioned that a Chelsea pensioner, seventy years of age, and totally blind, had been for a whole fortnight chained to the floor, because he had been drunk! That a very young girl, having contracted a certain disease, had been chained in a similar manner to the floor, lest she should contaminate others. Would it be believed, said Sir Robert to the House, that one chain fixed round her body, had been weighed, and was found no less than twenty-eight pounds weight!"—From what I have heard of the generous turn of the Prince Regent, his sympathetic heart would be moved to compassion for these two frail mortals, the one very old, the other very young. But what are we to think of his master, the magnanimous John Bull? I believe a soldier feels more of the martial spirit when in uniform, than in a loose drab coat. The same feeling may extend to a judge in his robes, and to a parson in his gown. They all may feel braver, more consciencious, and pious, for this "outward and visible sign," of what the inward ought to be.

These poor soldiers were, of all men among us, the most miserable; they had suffered greatly for want of good and sufficient food; as six of them had to feed on that quantity which the British allowed to four of their own men. By what we could gather, the most barbarous, the most unfeeling neglect, and actual ill treatment, was experienced on board the Nemesis. This ship seems, like the Malabar, to be damned to everlasting reproach. I forgot to enquire whether her Captain and her Surgeon were Scotchmen.

We turn with disgust and resentment from such ships as the Regulus, the Malabar, and the Nemesis, and mention with pleasure the Poictiers, of 74 guns. The captain and officers of this ship behaved to the prisoners she brought, with the same kindness and humanity, as I presume the captain, officers and crew of an American man of war would towards British prisoners. They considered our men as living, sensitive beings, feeling the inconveniences of hunger and thirst, and the pleasure of the gratifications of these instinctive appetites; they seemed to consider, also, that we were rational beings; and it is possible they may have suspected that some of us might have had our rational and improvable faculty increased by education; they might, moreover, have thought we had, like them, the powers of reminescence, and the same dispositions to revenge; or they might not have thought much on the subject, but acted from their own generous and humane feelings. I wish it were in my power to record the names of the officers of the Poictiers. Of this ship we can remark, that she had long been on the American station; long enough to know the American character, and to respect it. Her officers had a noble specimen of American bravery and humanity, when the American sloop Wasp took the British sloop Frolic, and both were soon after taken by the Poictiers. The humane, and we dare say, brave Capt. Beresford, has the homage of respect for his proper line of conduct towards those Americans whom the fortune of war put under his command. We drank the healths, in the best beer we could get, of the captain, officers and crew, of his Britannic Majesty's line of battle ship, Poictiers.

That we may not be thought to accuse the British of barbarity without proof, we shall give an instance of their shocking inhumanity towards the inhabitants of Canada, in the year 1759, when their army was under the command of a Wolfe, extracted from Knox's historical journal of the British campaign in Canada, p. 322, vol. 1st, dedicated by permission to Gen. Anchers. "Yesterday Capt. Starks brought in two prisoners, one of them a lad of fifteen years of age, the other a man of forty, who was very sullen, and who would not answer any questions. This officer also took two male children, and, as he and his party were returning, they saw themselves closely pursued by a much superior body, some of whom were Indians, (probably the father and mother of the young children, and other relatives, and a few humane Indians)—he wished to be freed from the children, as, by their innocent cries and screeches, they directed the pursuers where to follow. Capt. Stark's lieutenant made many signs to them to go away and leave him, but they not understanding him, still redoubled their lamentations, and finding them hard pressed, he gave orders that the infants should be taken aside and KILLED, which was done"!!!—What is the reason this diabolical barbarity was never before condemned in print? The reason is plain—they were the children of Frenchmen. This shocking deed was perpetrated by the officers of General Wolfe's army, and published by one of his captains, under the sanction of Lord Amherst!

It may be tedious to our readers, especially if they be British, but we cannot yet leave the subject of the inhuman treatment of the American prisoners of war, while on their passage from Halifax to Chatham. The condition of the soldiers was the most deplorable. Some of these men were born in the interior, and had never seen the salt ocean; they enlisted in Boestler's regiment, and were taken by the British and Indians, somewhere between fort George and York, the capital of Upper Canada. They were pretty much stripped of their clothing, soon after they were taken, and their march to Montreal was conducted with very little regard to their feelings; but when sick, they were well attended to by the medical men of the enemy; their passage from Quebec to Halifax, down the river St. Lawrence, was barbarous. They suffered for victuals, clothes, and every other conveniency. The men say that they had more instances of real kindness from the Indians, than from the British. But on their passage across the Atlantic, their situation was horrible, as may be well supposed, when it is considered that these soldiers had never been at sea, and of course could not shift, and shirk about, as the sailors call it, as could the seamen; they were of course, sea sick; and were continually groping and tumbling about in the dark prison of a ship's hold. They suffered a double portion of misery compared with the sailors, to whom the rolling of the ship in a gale of wind, and the stench of bilge-water, were matters of no grievance; but were serious evils to these landsmen, who were constantly treading upon, or running against, and tumbling over each other. Many of them were weary of their lives; and some layed down dejected in despair, hoping never to rise again. Disheartened, and of course sick, these young men became negligent of their persons, not caring whether they ever added another day to their wretched existence; so that when they came on board the prison ship, they were loathsome objects of disgust. A mother could not have known her own son; nor a sister her brother, disguised and half consumed as they were, with a variety of wretchedness. They were half naked, and it was now the middle of winter, and within thirty miles of London, in the nineteenth century; an era famous for bible societies, for missionary and humane societies, and for all proud boastings of Christian and evangelical virtue; under the reign of a king and prince, renowned for their liberality and magnanimity towards French catholics; (but not Irish ones,) and towards Ferdinand the bigot, his holiness the Pope, and the venerable institution of the holy Inquisition. Alas! poor old John Bull! though art in thy dotage, with thy thousand ships in the great salt ocean; and thy half a dozen victorious ones in the Serpentine River, alias the splendid gutter, dug out in Hyde Park, for the amusement of British children six feet high! Can the world wonder that America, in her present age of chivalry, should knock over these doating old fellows, and make them the derision of the universe?

I can no otherwise account for this base treatment of the Americans, than by supposing that the British government had concluded in the summer and autumn of 1813, that America could not stand the tug of war with England; that Madison was unpopular; and that the federalists, or British faction in America, were prevailing, especially in New-England; and that, being sure of conquest, they should commence the subjugation of the United States by degrading its soldiery and seamen; as they have the brave Irish.—They may have been led into this error by our federal newspapers, which are generally vehicles of misinformation. The faction may impede, and embarrass for a time; but they never can long confine the nervous arm of the American Hercules.

Candor influences me to confess, that there were more attempts than one, to rise and take these men of war transports. I find that several experiments were made, but that they were always betrayed, by some Englishman, or Irishman, that had crept into American citizenship. I hope the time is not far off, when we shall reject from our service every man not known absolutely to have been born in the United States. Whenever these foreigners get drunk, they betray their partiality to their own country, and their dislike of ours. I hope our navy never will be disgraced or endangered by these renegadoes. Every man is more or less a villain, who fights against his own country. The Irish are so ill treated at home, that it is no wonder that they quit their native soil, for a land of more liberty and, plenty; and they are often faithful to the country that adopts them; but never trust an Englishman, and above all a Scotchman. It is a happy circumstance that America wants neither. She had rather have one English manufacturer than an hundred English sailors. We labor under the inconvenience of speaking the same language with the enemies of our rising greatness. I know by my own personal experience, that English books, published since our revolutionary war, have a pernicious tendency in anglifying the American character. I have been amused in listening to the wrangling conversation of an English, Irish and American sailor, when all three were half drunk; and this was very often the case during this month of January, as many of our men who had been in the British naval service, received payment from government; and this filled our abode with noise, riot, confusion, and sometimes fighting. The day was spent in gambling, and the night in drunkenness; for now all would attempt to forget their misery, and steep their senses in forgetfulness. The French officers among us, seldom indulged in drinking to excess. Our men said they kept sober in order to strip the boozy sailor of his money, by gambling.

While the Frenchmen keep sober, the American and English sailor would indulge in their favorite grog. In this respect, I see no difference between English and American. Over the can of grog, the English tar forgets all his hardships and his slavery—yes, slavery; for where is there a greater slavery among white men, than that of impressed Englishmen on board of one of their own men of war? The American, over his grog, seems equally happy, and equally forgetful of his harsh treatment. The Englishman, when his skin, is full of grog, glows with idolatry for his country, and his favorite lass; and so does the American: The former sings the victories of Bembow, How, Jervase and Nelson; while the latter sing the same songs, only substituting the names of Preble, Hull, Decatur and Bainbridge, Perry and Macdonough. Our men parodied all the English national songs.—"Rule Britannia, rule the waves," was "Rule Columbia," &c. "God save great George, our King," was sung by our boys, "God save great Madison;" for every thing like federalism was banished from our hearts and ears; whatever we were before, we were all staunch Madisonians in a foreign land. The two great and ruling passions among the British sailors and the American sailors, seemed, precisely the same, viz. love of their country, and love of the fair sex. These two subjects alone entered into all their songs, and seemed to be the only dear objects of their souls, when half drunk. On these two strings hang all our nation's glory; while, to my surprize, I found, or thought I found, that the love of money was that string which vibrated oftenest in a Frenchman's heart; but I may be mistaken; all the nation may not be gamblers.—Remember, politicians, philosophers, admirals, and generals, that Love and Patriotism are the two, and I almost said, the only two passions of that class of men, who are destined to carry your flag in triumph abound the terraqueous globe, by skillfully controlling the powers of the winds, and of vapor.

One word more, before I quit this national trait. The English naval muse, which I presume must be a Mermaid, half woman and half fish, has, by her simple and half the time, nonsensical songs, done more for the British flag than all her gunnery, or naval discipline and tactics. This inspiration of the tenth muse, with libations of grog, have actually made the English believe they were invincible on the ocean, and, what is still more extraordinary, the French and Spaniards were made to believe it also. This belief constituted a magical circle, that secured their ships from destruction, until two American youths, Isaac Hull, from Connecticut, and Oliver H. Perry, from Rhode Island, broke this spell by the thunder of their cannon, and annihilated the delusion. Is not this business of national songs a subject of some importance? Love and Patriotism, daring amplification, with here and there a dash of the supernatural, are all that is requisite in forming this national band of naval music. We all know that "Yankee Doodle," is the favorite national tune of America, although it commenced with the British officers and Tories, in derision, in the year 1775. When that animating tune is struck up in our Theatres, it electrifies the pit and the upper galleries. When our soldiers are marching to that tune, they "tread the air." "With that tune," said general M——, the same gallant officer, who took nine pieces of cannon from the British, planted on an eminence, at the battle of Bridgewater—"with that tune these fellows would follow me into hell, and pull the devil by the nose." For want of native compositions, we had sung British songs until we had imbibed their spirit, and the feelings and sentiments imbibed in our youth, are apt to stick to us through life. It is high time we had new songs put in our mouths.

Unless we attend to the effects of these early impressions, it is almost incredible, the number of false notions that we imbibe, and carry to our graves. A considerable party in the United States have sung Nelson's victories, until those victories seemed to be their own. Even on the day of the celebration of the Peace, the following Ode was sung in the hall of the University of Cambridge—a captain and a lieutenant of the navy being among the invited guests. It was written by the son of the keeper of the States Prison, in Massachusetts.

ODE, &c.

Columbia and Britannia
Have ceased from Warfare wild;
No more in battle's rage they meet,
The parent and the child.
Each gallant nation now lament
The heroes who have died.
But the brave, on the wave,
Shall yet in friendship ride,
To bear Britannia's ancient name,
And swell Columbia's pride.

The flag-staff of Columbia
Shall be her mountain Pine;
Her Commerce on the foaming sea
Shall be her golden mine.
Her wealth from every nation borne,
Shall swell the ocean wide,
And the brave, on the wave, &c. &c.

To Britain's Faith and Prowess,
Shall distant nations bow,
The Cross upon her topmast head,
The Lion at her prow.
No haughty foe shall dare insult,
No Infidel deride;
For the brave, on the wave, &c. &c.

For now the kindred nations
Shall wage the fight no more;
No more in dreadful thunder dash
The billows to the shore:
Save when in firm alliance bound
Some common foe defied;
Then the brave, on the wave, &c. &c.

This captivity in a foreign land, has been to me a season of thoughtfulness. Sometimes I thought I was like a despised Jew, among the sons of the modern Babylon, which I might have sunk under, but for the first principles of a serious education; for I was born and educated in the state of Massachusetts, near an hundred miles from Boston. The subject of education has greatly occupied my mind, and I rejoiced that I was born in that part of the United States, where it is most attended to. It is an injury to our national character, that most of the books we read in early life, were written by Englishmen; as with their knowledge we imbibe their narrow prejudices. The present war, has, in a degree, corrected this evil; but time alone can effect all we wish.

A dispute arose between us and our commander, relative to the article of bread, which served to show Englishmen how tenacious we, Americans, are on what we consider to be our rights.

Whenever the contractor omitted to send us off soft bread, provided the weather did not forbid, the said contractor forfeited half a pound of bread to each man. The prisoners were not acquainted with this rule, until they were informed of it by the worthy captain Hutchinson; and they determined to enforce the regulation on the next act of delinquency of the contractor. This opportunity soon occurred. He omitted to send us off soft bread in fair weather; our commander, Mr. O. thereupon ordered us to be served with hard ship bread. This we declined accepting, and contended that the contractor was bound to send us off the soft bread, with an additional half pound, which he forfeited to us for his breach of punctuality. Now the contractor had again and again incurred this forfeiture, which went into Mr. O's pocket, instead of our stomachs, and this mal-practice we were resolved to correct. Our commander then swore from the teeth outwards, that if we refused his hard bread, we should have none; and we swore from the teeth, inwardly, that we would adhere to our first declaration, and maintain our rights. Finding us obstinate, he ordered us all to be driven into the pound by the marines, and the ladder drawn up. Some of the prisoners, rather imprudently, cast some reflections on Mr. O. and his family; in consequence of which, he ordered us all to be driven below, and the hatches closed upon us; and he represented to the commodore that the prisoners were in a state of mutiny. He was so alarmed that he sent the female part of his family on shore for safety, and requested a reinforcement of marines. At the same time we made a representation to the commodore, and stated our grievances, in our own way, and we demanded the extra half pound of soft bread, forfeited by the contractor. In all this business we were as fierce and as stubborn, and talked as big as a combination of collegians, to redress bad commons. We remained in this situation two days; one from each mess going on deck for a supply of water, was all the intercourse we had with our superiors. During all this time, we found we had got hold of the heaviest end of the timber. We found it very hard contending against increasing hunger, and should have been very glad of a few hard biscuit. Some began to grow slack in their resistance; and even the most obstinate allowed their ire to cool a little. To lay such an embargo on our own bowels was, be sure, a pretty tough piece of self-denial; for we found; in all our sufferings, that bread was, the staff of life. We were about taking the general opinion by a vote, whether it was best to eat hard biscuit, or starve? Just as we were about taking this important vote, in which, I suspect, we should have been unanimous, the commodore and Capt. Hutchinson came on board to inquire into the cause of the dispute; and this lucky, and well timed visit, saved our credit; and established the Yankee character for inflexibility, beyond all doubt or controversy. These two worthy gentlemen soon discovered that Mr. O. had made representations not altogether correct. They therefore ordered the hatches to be taken off, and proper bread to be served out, and so the dispute ended.

What added to our present satisfaction was, that Mr. my Lord Beasly was to allow us two pence half penny sterling per day, for coffee, tobacco, &c. We now, to use the sailor's own expressive phrase, looked up one or two points nearer the wind than ever.

That Mr. O. had been in the royal navy from his infancy, and now, at the age of forty five, ranks no higher than a lieutenant. He once commanded a sloop, and had the character of severity. He had an amiable wife and many children, who lived in the prison ship. Lieut. O. was not the wisest man in all England. He exercised his cunning, it was said, in making money out of his station; but he was under the immediate control of two honorable gentlemen, otherwise, it is probable, we should have felt more instances of his revenge than he dared, at all times, show.

CHAPTER VI.

It is now the last day of February, 1814. The severity of an English winter, which is generally milder than the winters of New-England, is past; and we are as comfortable as can be expected on board a prison ship; we have a few cents a day to buy coffee, sugar or tobacco; add to these, we have the luxury of newspapers, which is a high gratification to the well known curiosity of a genuine Yankee, by which cant term we always mean a New-England man. We have been laughed at, by the British travellers, for our insatiable curiosity; but such should remember, that their great moralist, Johnson, tells us that curiosity is the thirst of the soul, and is a never-failing mark of a vigorous intellect. The Hottentot has no curiosity—the woolly African has no curiosity—the vacant minded Chinese has no curiosity—but the brightest sons of Old England and New, are remarkable for it; insomuch that they are often the dupes of it. How many thousand guineas a year are acquired by artful foreigners, in feeding this appetite of our relation, the renowned John Bull? and yet he is never satisfied; his mouth is open still, and so wide, very lately, that Bonaparte had like to have jumped into it, suit and all!!

We should have taken, perhaps, more satisfaction in the perusal of these newspapers, had they not been so excessively expensive. We took the Statesman, the Star, and Bell's Weekly Messenger; and some part of the time, the Whig. The expense of the Statesman was defrayed by the sale of green fish to the contractor. The Star was taken by the Frenchmen; the Whig and Bell's Weekly Messenger, by individuals. We paid twenty-eight shillings sterling per month, for the Statesman, which is twice the price of a newspaper in Boston, for a whole year. Besides it costs us sixteen shillings per month to get these papers conveyed on board. The reader will probably say, in the language of Dr. Franklin's allegory, that considering our destitute condition, "we paid dear for our whistle." These newspapers were smuggled, or pretended to be smuggled; our commander's pocket was not the lighter for New-England "quidnuncism." But every day afforded instances of meanness; scraping misery to the bone, for a few pence.

The United States is the region of all regions of the earth for newspapers. There are more newspapers printed in the United States, than in all the rest of the world besides. We do not mean a greater number of copies of the same title, but a greater number of different titles; insomuch, that invention is nearly exhausted to afford them new names. In England, newspapers pay a very high tax; in America, they are perfectly free, and their transport by the mails is nearly so; and this is because our government, that is to say, the people, consider newspapers one of the necessaries of a Yankee's life. In the definition of a New-England man, you should always insert that he is "a go to meeting animal, and a newspaper reading animal!" The sums which we poor prisoners paid for one English newspaper a year, would have paid the annual board of a man in the interior of our own plentiful country. I am firmly of opinion, however, that Boston has and will have reason to curse her federal newspapers. They, like, the "Courier" and "Times," of London have spread false principles, and scattered error amongst a people too violently prejudiced to read both sides of the question.

I thought that, at this time, we were as happy, or as free from misery, as at any time since our captivity. The pleasant season was advancing, the days growing longer, and the nights shorter, and our condition seemed improving, when a dreadful calamity broke out upon us; I mean the Small pox. There are no people on the face of the earth, who have such a dread of this distemper as the people of New-England. Their laws and their municipal regulations prove this. No person can remain in his own house with this disorder; but certain municipal officers take charge of him, and convey him to the small pox hospital, provided by the laws for the reception of such patients. If the disorder has progressed so far as to render it, in the opinion of physicians, dangerous to life to remove him, then the street, where he lives, is fenced up, and a guard placed so that no one can pass, and a red flag is hoisted on the house. These formidable precautions may have added to the dread of this loathsome disease.

When this alarming distemper first appeared in the ship, the surgeon had all the prisoners mustered, to inquire of them who had had the small pox, and who the kine pock; or, as they call it in England, the cow pock. He vaccinated a number. But there were several instances of persons who said they were inoculated with the kine pock in America, who took the small pox the natural way at this time. I do not consider this as, in any degree diminishing the value of this important discovery and practice. Very few practitioners understand this business; and a great number of people in the United States have inoculated themselves, without knowing at what period to take the matter; and without knowing the true pustule from the spurious. Many of our prisoners absolutely refused to be vaccinated, although they believed in its efficacy of guarding them from small pox. I was greatly surprised at this, until I found that they felt no disposition to preserve their lives any longer. It seemed that their misery had so far lessened their attachment to life, that they were indifferent as to any method of preserving it. I was surprized to find this in some who I had considered as among the most cheerful. I was shocked to find among these a weight of woe I little expected. Several of them told me that life was a burthen; that pride of character kept them from whining, and forced a smile on their countenance, while their being penned up, like so many dirty hogs, had chilled their souls, and sunk them, at times, into despondency. Some said, that nothing but the hope of revenge kept them alive.

There are two extremes of the mind producing a disregard for life. The one is, the fever or delirium of battle, augmented and kept up by the cannon's roar, the sight of blood, and military music; here a man, being all soul, thinks nothing of his body. The other case is, where his body is debilitated, his spirit half extinguished, and his soul desponding, and his body paralized. Here existence is a burden, and the attachment to life next to nothing. It is here that death appears to open the gate of the prison. I found, to my surprize, that several of our countrymen were in this desponding state.

Some refused to be vaccinated, from a persuasion that the kine pock was no security against the small pox. When I endeavoured to convince several of them of their error, one asked me if a weak man could drive away a strong one; or a small evil drive away a great one? A man need not despair in making a certain class of people believe any thing but truth.

It is surprizing that when our countryman, Dr. Waterhouse, first introduced this new inoculation into America, in the year 1800, what an opposition the practice met with; and nothing but the most persevering and unwearied exertions, and public experiments, could overcome the reluctance, in numbers, to receive this great blessing. The same perversity of judgement was observable among individuals in this prison ship.

As the spring advanced, the men, contrary to my expectation, became more desponding, and the Typhus fever, or rather the jail fever, appeared among them. From four to six are taken down with it every day. We have about nine hundred men on board this ship; eight hundred of us wretched prisoners, and one hundred Englishmen. We are more crowded than is consistent with health or comfort. Our hammocks are slung one above another. It is warm and offensive in the middle of our habitation; and those who have hammocks near the ports, are unwilling to have them open in the night. All this impedes the needful circulation of fresh air. It is a little singular, that it is the robust and hearty that are seized with this fever, before those who are weak in body, and, apparently, desponding in mind.

As the appropriate hospital-ship is now crowded with sick, we are obliged to retain a number in the Crown Prince. The sick bay of this ship is now arranged like to an hospital ship; and the hospital allowance served out; and the chief surgeon visits us every week. Our committee, composed of the oldest and most respectable men amongst us, do every thing in their power to keep the ship and the prisoners clean. Men are appointed to inspect the prisoners' clothes and bedding; and even to punish those who refused, or were too indolent to wash themselves and their clothing; for there were some who were more like hogs than men; such is the effects of situations and circumstances. Our most influential men set the example of cleanliness; and endeavoured to instill into the minds of others the great importance of being free from all kinds of filth.

It is now the first day of April, 1814, and the small pox and typhus fever still prevail in the different ships, especially on board the ship called the Bahama. One hundred and sixty-one Americans were put on board her in the month of January. She had been used as a prison for Danish sailors, many of whom were sick of typhus fever. These Americans came, like the rest of us, from Halifax; being weary, fatigued, and half-starved, their dejected spirits and debilitated bodies, then aptly disposed to imbibe the contagion. Accordingly soon after they went on board, they were attacked with it. All the Danes are sent out of her; and her upper deck is converted into an hospital; and the surgeon has declared the ship to be infectious; and no one communicates with her but such as supply the ship and attend the sick.

While "sick and imprisoned," Mr. Beasly "visited us not"; but sent his clerk, a Mr. Williams, to supply the most needy with clothes; and instead of applying to the committee, who could have informed him correctly who most needed them, he adopted the mode most liable to lead to deception and injustice. This Mr. B. seems, from the beginning, to have considered his countrymen as a set of cheating, lying, swindling rascals; and a mutual contempt has existed between them. We wish all our officers and agents would bear in mind this fact, that complacency begets complacency; and contempt begets contempt.

We, Americans, have seen and severely felt the highly pernicious and demoralizing tendency of gambling; and we have been long wishing to break up the practice; and our selectmen, or committee, were determined to effect it. We accordingly took a vote, agreeably to the custom of our country, and it was found to be the will of the majority to prohibit the practice of it. We began with the roulette table, or as our men called them, "wheels of fortune." After no small opposition from the French officers, we succeeded in putting them down; but we could not succeed so easily against the billiard tables. It was contended by many that it was an exercise, and a trial of skill; and if confined to a halfpenny, or one cent a game, it could not be dangerous to the morals, or property of the community. On this a warm and long dispute arose, in defining gambling. The playing of billiards for a cent a game, was contended to be a muscular exercise, and not gambling; whereas cards were denounced, as a studied, sedentary contrivance, for the artful to draw money from the pockets of the artless.

The owners of "the wheels of fortune" were, perhaps, envied. They made money, and lived better than the rest; and the same remark was made of the owners of the billiard tables. In the course of debate they were tauntingly called the privileged order, and rising from one degree of odious epithet to another, I could not help laughing, on hearing one angry orator pronounce this scheme of screwing money out of the pockets of the artless, and then laughing at their poverty and distress, to be down right Federalism. Now it should be known that a Federalist and Federalism, are the most odious ideas that can be raised up in the minds of every American prisoner in this river. A law was, therefore, proposed, to fine any American prisoner, who should call another a Federalist.

This state of contention continued five or six days; when, I am sorry to say it, the gambling party increased rather than lessened. At length two of the party ventured to recommence gambling—one of them was immediately sent for by the committee, who ordered him to be confined in the black hole. This lit up a blaze the committee little contemplated. The whole body of the commons cried out against this summary and arbitrary proceeding. This was pronounced to be such an alarming attack on the liberty of the prisoners, that every freeman in the prison ship was called upon to rise up and resist the daring encroachment on the birthright of an American. A strong party was at once formed in favor of the man who was imprisoned without a trial. On this occasion the names of Hamden, Sidney, and Wilks, were echoed from all quarters of our prison. The liberty of the citizen, and false imprisonment were discanted on in a loud and moving manner. Some talked of a writ of habeas corpus, but others knew not what it meant; but all agreed that it was unconstitutional to confine a man in prison without trial. One man had the imprudence to say that they would have French fashions among them, of imprisoning and hanging a man, and trying him afterwards. This roused the ire of some of the officers of that nation, who declared in a rage, that it was not the fashion in France to hang a man and try him afterwards. They all agreed, however, that it was an illegal act to confine the man without trial; and that this was a precedent dangerous to the liberties of the prisoner, and that they ought to protest against it. This was a curious scene to the surgeon, and some other pretty sensible English officers; one of whom observed to another, in my hearing, these Americans are certainly the most singular set of men I ever met with. The man who had been confined, was allowed to come from his confinement, and speak for himself. He had "the gift of the gab," and a species of forcible eloquence that some of our lawyers might envy. He would have distinguished himself in any of our town meetings; and with cultivation, might have shown in history. He, however, committed that very common fault among our popular orators,—he talked too much. The President of the Committee was not much of a speaker; but he was a man of sense and prudence. Cool as he was, he was thrown a little off his guard by an intemperate phrase of the culprit; who in the ardor of his defence, accused the President of being a Federalist; and this turned the current of favor against the unguarded orator, and he was from all sides, hissed. When quiet was restored, the President took advantage of the current just turned in his favor, and said, "Fellow Prisoners! I perceive that I have committed an error in confining this man without a previous trial, and I am sorry for it. At the time, I thought I was doing right; but I now see that I was wrong." He then proposed to have the accused regularly tried, before the full committee, which he hoped would prove themselves the real representatives of the community, collected in course of events within the planks of an enemy's prison ship. He exhorted the committee not to be influenced by party, prejudice, or local attachment, but to act justly and independently. The accused was allowed to speak for himself. He was not an old Jack Tar, but the son of a respectable New England yeoman, with a clear head, and not destitute of learning, nor was he ignorant of the law. He defended himself with real ability, and the spirit of Emmet spoke with him. Among other things, he said—"What have I done to bring down upon me the resentment of the committee, and the vengeance of its President? In attempting to establish the rights of this little community, I have suffered the ignominy of a close confinement, by the order of my own countrymen. While we are suffering oppression, degradation and insult, from the external enemy, shall we redouble our misery, by wrongfully oppressing one another? I thought it my duty to exert myself in favor of an equality of rights among us. I could not bear to hear the domineering language, and see the overbearing conduct of the purse proud among us; of a set of cunning, tricking, slight-of-hand men, who were constantly stripping the unwary and artless American, of the small sums he had acquired, not by gaming, but by labor and good behaviour. I was an enemy to all this; but I was a friend to the freedom of judgment, and the freedom of action, provided it did not injure the whole. If after what has been experienced, our countrymen will gamble with certain Frenchmen, above the rank of common seamen, let them do it, and endure the consequences. It is wrong to attempt to abridge the liberty of amusement, if that amusement does not harm, or endanger the comfort of the whole." The man was acquitted, and escorted to his birth in triumph.

It is surprising what trifling things will influence a crowd! A few minutes previous to this man's bold harrangue, every one, almost, was against him; but as soon as he tickled their ears with a flourishing speech, where much more ability was shewn than was expected, instantly they clap their hands, admire his talents, applaud his sentiments, and think directly contrary to what they did five minutes before. From this incident have I been seriously impressed with the dangerous effects of eloquence. Here this man made "the worse appear the better reason." But how many instances have we of the same effect in the Grecian, Roman, English and French history!

This trial, and this specimen of oratory, convinced me that Liberty is the parent of eloquence. I have noticed a striking difference between our men and those of England, with all their loud talk of English freedom. When an American speaks to an officer set over him, he utters all that he has to say in a ready and fearless manner; but when these Englishmen come on board of us to bring vegetables, or any thing else to dispose of, they stand with their caps off, scratching their heads, through awe and embarrassment; and every other word is, "Yes, your Honor," or, "Will your Honor have this, or your Honor have that;" and "your Honor knows best;" and all such mean and slavish language. It is remarkable that you never hear this sort of language, and see this servile manner, in the common savages of our wilderness. It belongs only to the common people, and I am told, to the shop-keepers of England, and to our negroes. Necessity first inspires the poor with awe for the rich, and by and by it grows into a principle.

A day or two after these transactions we resumed the consideration of the practice of gambling, and we turned the tables against the billiard players; and they were taken down by an almost unanimous consent; whatever some individuals thought or wished, the general opinion was so strong that they dare not express it. The authority of the committee and the authority of the President, were established more firmly than ever.

While writing down these occurrences, I have thought that we might here see the great characters and the important doings of the Grecian, Roman and American Republics, in a very small compass. Here we saw the struggles of vice and virtue, wisdom and folly, and the desire of distinction, and the ambition of taking the lead, and the little workings of emulation, amid rags and tatters. As often as I moaned over wearied moments of captivity, I do not think the time entirely lost to me. I learnt a great deal. I saw close to them the first workings of those springs which set republics, kingdoms, empires, and armies in motion; the winds and tides, without which, the great ocean of human life would stagnate, and all within its vast bounds would perish—until now, I saw the human heart covered over by pride, encrusted by avarice or cloaked round by hypocrisy; I now saw it exposed, naked and bare, to the inspection of each man's neighbour.

There are among us Americans on board this prison ship, some men of sense and principle; but there are many more, especially among the soldiery, some of the lowest of the American community; the very dregs of the American people. They are lazy, dirty, lying, and profligate; and yet they are total strangers to some of the worst vices of these Frenchmen. But I forbear to enlarge, and shall quit this odious subject by wishing that all young Americans may stay at home, and if possible, never mix with these veterans in vice, who inhabit what is called the old world. Next to the French, I believe the Irish the next in vicious actions. An Irishman appears to have more spirit than brains. There are only two situations in which an Irishman seems perfectly happy, viz. when he has plenty of liquor to drink, and a number of friends to give it to; and perhaps we may add, when he is wrangling in a mob. They are amiable, yet bloody; they have the noblest feelings, with savage hearts. Their passions have the most rapid transitions, so that they will hug a man one minute, and the next knock him on the head. I speak only from my observations in this confined place.—With the same limitation I speak of the Portuguese and Spaniards, a few of whom are here among us. They are rattlesnakes; shining, glossy, malignant and revengeful beyond any fellows I ever met with. They are void, however, of one virtue of our rattlesnakes; they will stab a man to the heart without giving him any warning. I have charitably supposed that when in a violent passion, they are bereft of reason, and become entirely insane. My observations, however, like my remarks on Frenchmen are confined to the narrow space of this floating prison. We should be very cautious in making general or national censures. I have suspected whether among the Roman Catholics, the practice of confession and absolution had not opened a door for some horrid crimes, such as murder. It may be too, that they look upon us, Protestants, as the Mahomedans do the Christians, a sort of outcasts, the killing of whom amounts not to the horrid sin of murder. It is certain that some of these people have been known to plunge a knife into a man with no more compunction than an Englishman or an American would use his fist.

CHAPTER VII.

April 30th, 1814.—The good effects of the abolition of all the apparatus of gambling were more and more apparent. Those who were heretofore employed merely in rattling of the dice and shuffling of cards, were now occupied in matters more becoming a rational and accountable being. They are now busily employed in reading, writing, drawing, and in studying arithmetic and navigation. Our ship begins to wear the appearance of a seminary of learning; for we have established numerous schools in various parts of the ship; and there appears a strong desire for improvement among the younger class of the prisoners. Every one is now convinced of the pernicious effects of gambling. In order to improve this praiseworthy disposition, the committee, which is in fact a board of selectmen, applied to the agent, Mr. Beasly, for stationery; he accordingly sent us a ream of writing paper, a few slates, and a few copies of a small treatise on arithmetic. His supply was by no means equal to our needs. Four times the number would have been in constant use; for it checked the emulation of some when they could not obtain what they wished.

It was pleasing to see a number of quite young men preferring education to gaming, noise and uproar; not but what we had among us a set of noisy, thoughtless, giggling idle fellows, mere drums, that sounded loud by reason of their emptiness. I never was so thoroughly convinced of the great importance of a good education, grounded on sound and serious principles, as since I have formed one among this congregation of wretchedness. I fear I shall betray my partiality if I should candidly write down my observations on this subject. We Americans are taught from our infancy not only to believe, but to think, compare and hold fast that which we find to be good. It seems to me that the Roman Catholic religion takes all the trouble of thinking and examining from off the mind of their believers. It is a scheme of rules and discipline not very unlike that of the military, and its punishments horrible. The Episcopal church of England treads close upon the heels of the papal, and has formed a system all cut and dried, like the Catholic, for a man to believe and be saved. Both of them make religion a stationary point, and not a motive of principle, forever progressing to perfection. One never dares to think or speak beyond the bounds of that common prayer book, established by the king and his council: whereas an American reads or hears read the bible from his infancy, and thereby acquires a freedom of thinking unknown even to the generality of Englishmen. I should never have thought so much on these subjects had I not remarked the difference of thinking, and behavior of the different people here crowded together. I do not presume to say which is best or which is worst; I can only say which is the freest from bigotry, and which is least trammelled by ordinances merely political.

The ragged and despised legislators of the Crown Prince prison ship, in solemn council between decks convened, never adopted a wiser measure than that of breaking up the dangerous habit of gambling. I had an idea that gaming often become the ruling passion; but I never before had an idea of its fascinating power. Some of our crew, of reputed good habits, became so bewitched with gaming that they plundered their companions and returned to their cards and wheels of fortune with a serious and anxious ardor, totally void of pleasantry, that seemed to me to border upon insanity.

After the gaming tables were demolished, some of our companions amused themselves by running, and tumbling, and scampering about the ship, disturbing those who were disposed to read, write and study navigation. Not content with this, they hollowed, ridiculed and insulted people passing in vessels and boats up and down the river. The commander had no small difficulty in putting a stop to this disgraceful river-slang.

On receiving a month's pay from Mr. Beasly, our agent, so called, every prisoner contributed three pence towards a fund for purchasing beer. They formed themselves into classes, like our collegians, and these appointed persons to sell it to those who wished for it; and each member of the class shared his proportion of the profits. This answered a very good purpose; it checked the monopolizers and muckworms that infested our ship, and fattened on our wastefulness. It also benefitted those who did not choose to drink beer, or porter, as they call it in England.

Some disagreeable and very mortifying occurrences took place among us in the course of this spring. Four of our men agreed together to go on to the quarter-deck and offer themselves to the commander, to enter into the service of the British. Their intention was discovered before they had an opportunity of putting it in execution. Two of them were caught, and two escaped. These two were arraigned and sentenced to be marked with the letter T, with Indian ink, pricked into their foreheads, being the initial of the word Traitor; after which, one went aft and entered; the other judged better, and remained with his countrymen. Had these been Englishmen we should have applauded them; and had they been Irishmen, we had no right to blame them; but we had the mortification to know that they were, by birth, Americans. Some thought the punishment was too severe, and which we had no right to inflict; others thought that the letter in their foreheads should have been F, for Federalist; for this was the name they ever afterwards were known by.

The Frenchmen were now (in the month of May) leaving the reach. Many of them had been in prison ever since 1803. These men are going home to live under a government forced upon them by foreigners! How unlike Americans, who had rather perish under tortures, than submit to the yoke of a foreigner. Our Frenchmen always spoke in raptures of the emperor Napoleon, and with contempt of Louis. When we spoke in praise of Bonaparte, they would throw their arms around us, and cry out, one bon American! But these men are all passion and no principle; they are fit for any thing but liberty. I cannot judge of the whole nation; but those I have seen here, are an abandoned set of men. I dare not write down their incredible vices. There has been a great cry of French influence by the British party in New England. I never thought it ever existed, and I am very certain that it never will exist, unless they, and we should become a very altered people. It is a happy circumstance that the wide Atlantic rolls between us and France, and between us and England.

Louis 18th, passed through Chatham this month, for France. The tops of the carriages, only, were to be seen by the prisoners. On this occasion, the cannon were firing from London to Sheerness. Our Frenchmen looked blacker than ever. They were, be sure, obliged to stick the white cockade on their hats, but they told us they had Bonaparte's cockade in their hearts. They checked the expression of their feelings lest it should retard their liberation.

On the news of taking of Paris, and of the flight of Bonaparte to Elba, all our prison-keepers were alive for joy.—"Thank God that I am an Englishman," says our commander, lieut. O.—and "thank God I am a Briton," says our surgeon, who is a Scotchman. John Bull is now on the very top of the steeple, hourrowing and swinging his hat, and crying out to the whole universe, "I'm thinking Johnny Bull, the magnanimous John Bull, the soul of the continental war, the protector of France, the restorer of his holiness the Pope, and of Ferdinand the Great, the terror and admiration of the whole world. I have nothing now left me to do, but to flog the yankees, and depose Madison; and burn the city of Washington, disperse the Congress, establish in their place the Hartford Convention, and raise Caleb Strong to the high rank his devotion merits. After this, I will divide the world between me and ——. Prevost, who is, beyond doubt, at this very moment, at the city of Hartford, in Connecticut; or at the city of North Hampton, the capital of my province of Massachusetts."

John Bull[G] is, be sure, an hearty old fellow, with some very good points in his odd character; but, dwelling on an island, he oft times betrays an ignorance of the world, and of himself, so that we cannot help laughing at him, once in a while, for his conceitedness. His ignorance of America, and Americans, is a source of ridicule among us all. An English lady said to one of the officers, who had the care of American prisoners in England, "I hear, Sir, that the Americans are very ingenious in the manufactory of many little articles, and should like to have some of them."—The officer replied that she might herself give directions to some of the Americans, whom he would direct to speak with her. "O," said she, "how can that be, I cannot speak their language!" The individuals of the navy of England, have pretty correct ideas of us; but the soldiery of England have betrayed their ignorance in a manner that is astonishing, and some times truly laughable, even among their officers, who have taken prisoners. To this ignorance of free and happy America, and to the very generally diffused blessings of a respectable education, which we all enjoy, is to be attributed the base treatment we have experienced in some periods of our painful captivity. Who could have entertained any respect, or good opinion of a set of miserable looking, half naked dirty men, such as we all were when we arrived in the different ships from America? Our own parents, our brothers and sisters, would not have recognized us as their relatives. The soldiers taken under Boestler, were the verriest looking vagabonds I ever saw. They resembled more the idea I have formed of the lowest tenants of St. Giles', than American citizens, born and bred up in a sort of Indian freedom, and living all their lives in plenty, and never knowing, until they came into the hands of the English, what it was to be pinched for food, or to be infested by vermin. This short, severe, and for America, most glorious war, has given all ranks of the British nation more correct ideas of that people, who have vanquished them in every contest, the ill-omened frigate Chesapeake alone excepted. During this short war, the British have learnt this important truth, that the Americans are a brave and skilful people, who, though they appear to differ among themselves, are all united against any attack from the English; and on our side we have learnt, that to carry on a war, as we have done, is pretty expensive.

The surgeon of this ship, who is a clever Scotchman, speaks of the English nation as in a state of starvation in the midst of her great power, and abounding wealth, and matchless glory; for the late capture of Paris, by the English, with a trifling assistance of the allies, has absolutely intoxicated the whole nation, so that every man of them talks as if he were drunk. He told me, "that although the ship carpenters, at Chatham, received two guineas a week, (which, by the way, is not so much as our carpenters receive in America) they were always poor, and could lay up nothing against the accidents of sickness; but that when such misfortunes came upon them, they, in common with the manufacturers of England, with their families, went upon the parish, or into some hospitals. He said, such laboring people laid out too much in flesh meat, and in porter; which was not the custom in Scotland; and that there it was considered an indelible disgrace to a family to be maintained by the parish; but that it was so common in England, that no disgrace was attached to it. We, in Scotland, said he, would work our hands off, before any of our family should ask the parish for assistance to live." It appears from authentic documents, published in London, that, young and old, there are little short of two millions of paupers in England, including common beggars, and persons in alms-houses; that is, upon an average, about one pauper, or beggar, to every four who are not paupers or beggars.

In the parish of St. Sepulcher, which is in the heart of the city of London, there were last January, (1816,)

Now the number of persons who pay poor rates in this parish, was at the same time, 612. The annual amount of the expenses about l6,600. This is from an official account given by Mr. Miller and Wm. Scaife. Such is the picture of the prosperity of the opulent city of London, when at peace with all the world; after they had put down Bonaparte, and set up the Pope, and Ferdinand the 7th, and restored Louis 18th to the throne of the Bourbons, and revived the holy inquisition, with all its fervours!—Read this, Americans, and bless God that your lots (lines) have fallen in pleasant places.

A century ago, a Scotch writer, Fletcher, of Saltoun, gives this account of the beggarly state of Scotland.—"There are," says he, "at this day in Scotland (besides a great many poor families meanly provided for by the church boxes, with others, who, by living upon bad food, fall into various diseases) two hundred thousand people begging from door to door. These are not only no way advantageous, but a very grievous burden to so poor a country; and though the number of them be perhaps double to what it was formerly, by reason of this present great distress, yet in all times there have been about one hundred thousand of those vagabonds (gipsies) who have lived without any regard or subjection either to the laws of the land, or even those of God and nature.

"No magistrate could ever discover, or be informed, which way one in a hundred of these wretches died, or that they were ever baptized. Many murders have been discovered among them; and they are not only a most unspeakable oppression to poor tenants (who, if they give not bread, or some kind of provisions to perhaps forty such villains in one day, are sure to be insulted by them;) but they rob many poor people who live in houses distant from any neighborhood. In years of plenty, many thousands of them meet together in the mountains, where they feast and riot for many days; and at country weddings, markets, burials, and other the like public occasions, they are to be seen, both man and woman, perpetually drunk, cursing, blaspheming, and fighting together."

Among the evils imported from Britain, America has never been cursed with that part of their population called Gipsies, forming in England an imperium in imperio. The famous "orders in council," can be clearly traced up to a Gipsy origin. The Londoners imitate and follow, but originate nothing.—One of the monarchs of Scotland acknowledged the Gipsies as a separate and independent race. The word is a corruption of Egyptians.

The Surgeon also talked much about the poor laws; and the taxes to support the vast number of the poor in England. I told him that in Massachusetts, which contained about half a million of people, we had not more than a thousand persons maintained at the public charge; and that this thousand included foreigners—English, Scotch, Irish, Germans, Danes, Swedes, and not a few negroes. He seemed surprized at this account; but after a little pause, he said, "it was just like Scotland, where they had very few poor; and of those, very few were so degraded in mind, as to go into an alms-house, like an Englishman."

The Doctor observed, "that the English were full of money; that they gave large and long credit, and that tailors, shoe-makers and hatters, gave a generous credit, and could afford so to do." He said, "that the 'capitalists' ruled and turned the wheels of the government at their will and pleasure; they have great influence in the nation, but they have no ancestors, nor any thing to boast of but their money, which gives them all their consequence; for it is true if they shut their purses, the whole machinery of the government must stop." I could have told this discontented Caledonian a different story. I could have told him that all our capitalists, merchants and monied men, especially in New England, had shut their purses against our administration, and yet, in spite of these detestable sons of mammon, our governmental machine went steadily on, while we vanquished our enemy by land and by sea; but I did not wish to mortify a civil, friendly man. "In England," continued he, "the merchant governs the cabinet; and the cabinet governs the parliament; and the sovereign governs both; but," said he, "the capitalists, (by which he meant the mercantile interest) govern the whole." I did not choose to controvert his opinions; but, "thinks-I-to-my-self," ah! Sawney, thou art mistaken; America, democratic America, has proved that the most democratical government upon the terraqueous globe, has gone steadily on to greatness, to victory and to glory, with the capitalists or mercantile interest, in direct opposition to its wondrous measures!

I believe that our surgeon was a good man, and not ill qualified in his profession; but no politician, and pretty strongly attached to his tribe; who, from his account, never spent much money in buying meat and strong beer. He talked much of the machine and wheels of government; from all which I concluded, that the court of St. James's was the hub, or nave, where all the spokes of the great wheel of the machine terminated; and that the laboring people, manufacturers, and merchants were doomed, all their days, to grease this wheel. It is remarkable that David, the royal Psalmist, among the severest of the curses bestowed on his enemies, expressly says, "Lord, make them like unto a wheel."

CHAPTER VIII.

The month of April, which is just past, is like our April in New England, raw, cold, or as the English call it, sour.—But their month of May, which is now arrived, is pleasanter by far, than ours. By all that I can observe, I conclude that the vernal season of this part of the Island of Britain, is full fifteen days, if not twenty, earlier than that of Boston. I conjecture that this spot corresponds with Philadelphia.

The Medway, though a small river in the eyes of an inhabitant of the new world, is a very pleasant one. The moveable picture on its surface, of ships, tenders, and barges, is very pleasing, while its banks are rich and beautiful.—Oh, what a contrast to horrid Nova Scotia, with her barren hills, and everlasting bleak mountains!—The picture from the banks of the river to the top of the landscape, is truly delightful, and beyond any thing I ever saw in my own country; and this is owing to the hedges, which are novelties in the eyes of an American. In our country, the fields, meadows and pastures are divided by stone walls, or the rough post-and-rail fence; but here their fields, pastures and enclosures, which are very small, compared with ours, are made by hedges, or living growing vegetables, of a deep and most beautiful green. It gives a richness to the English landscape, beyond all expression fine. How happens it, I wonder, that hedges have never been introduced into New England, who has copied so closely every thing belonging to Old England? Should I ever be permitted to leave this Babylonish captivity, and be allowed once more to see our own Canaan, the enclosures of hedge shall not be forgotten.

Nearly opposite our doleful prison stands the village of Gillingham, adorned with a handsome church; on the side next Chatham, stands the castle, defended by more than an hundred cannon. These fortifications were erected soon after the Dutch republicans sailed up to Chatham, and singed John Bull's beard; since which it is said, he changes countenance at the name of a republic, or republican. We are told in the history of Gillingham, that here, the famous Earl Goodwin murdered six hundred Norman gentlemen, belonging to the retinue of Prince Alfred. But some such shocking story is told of almost every town in England that has an old castle, an old tower, or an old cathedral. This village once belonged to an Archbishop of Canterbury, vestiges of whose palace are yet to be seen. This place is also noted for making what is absurdly called copperas, which is the chrystalized salt of iron, or what is called in the new chemical nomenclature sulphate of iron; or in common parlance, green vitriol; which is manufactured, and found native in our own country, in immeasurable quantity.

Near this village of Gillingham, is a neat house, with a good garden, and surrounded by trees, which was bequeathed by a lady to the oldest boatswain in the Royal Navy.—The present incumbent is eighty years of age. Within our view is a shepherd attending his flock, with his canine lieutenants, who drive them into their pen in the evening, as our shepherds do us on board the Crown Prince. In a clear day the masts of the ships can be seen passing up and down the Thames. This brings to our minds our own gallant ships, whose decks we long, once more, to tread.

The Britons pursue a malignant policy, in confining us in a loathsome prison. The Britons know, probably, that a long and lingering imprisonment weakens the body, and diminishes the energy of the mind; that it disposes to vice, to a looseness of thought, and a destruction of those moral principles inculcated by a careful and early education.—Such a sink of vice I never saw, nor ever dreamt of, as I have seen here. Never was a juster saying than this;—"Evil communications corrupt good manners." One vicious fellow may corrupt an hundred, even if he speak another language. I have been thoroughly convinced of the wisdom of solitary imprisonment. By what I have seen and heard in this ship, where there are generally from seven to nine hundred men, I am convinced that such collections are so many hot-beds of vice and villany. It is a college of Satan, where degrees of wickedness are conferred e merito. Here we have freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors, in roguery, together with Bachelors, Masters of Arts, and Doctors.

Is it not a shame and a disgrace to a Christian nation, that, because a man has had the virtue to step forward in the cause of his country, in the cause of "free trade and sailors' rights," or from that glow of chivalry that fills a youthful bosom, or the sound of the warlike drum and trumpet, and the sight of the waving flag of his insulted country; is it not a shame that such a young man of pure morals and careful education, should be plunged into such an horrid prison as this? amid vice, and roguery, and every thing else, debasing to the character of so moral a people as the Americans really are?

The prisoners and the commander had lived in pretty good harmony, until very lately. Some of our men had absolutely cut a hole through the ship, near her stern, and cut the copper all round the hole, excepting at the under side, which enabled them to bend down the copper at their pleasure, and open a passage into the water, and to re-close it in such a manner as to escape detection. It was effected with a great deal of art and good management, with tools which we had procured, and cunningly concealed.

The first dark night after this newly contrived stern-port was finished, sixteen of the prisoners passed through it into the water, and swam safely on shore, notwithstanding a sentinel was stationed directly above the hole. They took care, however, to allure him as far forward as they could, by singing droll songs, and handing about some grog, which had been provided for that purpose. Sixteen was thought to be as great a number as could be prudently ventured to escape at once. One night the copper, which operated like a door upon its hinge, was considerably ruptured, and the prisoners gave over the attempt, and retired to their hammocks again.

The next evening the prisoners were to be counted; and it was of the first importance to keep up the entire number, and prevent the detection of our plot. To this end we cut a hole through one deck, big enough for one man to pass from one enclosure of prisoners to the other. There was always a number of prisoners left on each deck, who were counted by the sergeant below; while the sergeant passed from the lower deck to the next above it, sixteen men slipped through the hole, and were counted over again; and this deception kept the numbers good, and this trick was practised several times with success. The nights were now too light for a second attempt to escape. When they became sufficiently dark again, we prepared for a second attempt. After drawing lots for the chance, each man was provided with a little bag of clothes, plaistered over with grease, to keep them water-tight; they then passed agreeably to lots drawn, to the hole near the stern of the ship.—Two got well into the water, but one of them was tender and timid. Trepidation and the coldness of the water made him turn back to regain the hole he crept out of. In coming near the staging where the sentinel was posted, he heard the poor fellow breathe, and at length got sight of him;—"Ah," says Paddy, "here is a porpoise, and I'll stick him with my bayonet." On which the terrified young man exclaimed—"don't kill me, I am a prisoner." The sentinel held out his hand, and helped him on to the staging, and then fired his gun to give the alarm. The guard turned out, and the officers ran down in a fright, not being able to conceive how the man could have got overboard, surrounded with a platform, and guarded as this ship was.—They ran here and there, and questioned, and threatened and rummaged about; at length they discovered the sally port of the enemy. The officers stood in astonishment at the sight of a hole big enough for a man to creep out, cut through the thick planking of a ship of the line! While they stared and looked pale, many of the prisoners burst out a laughing. None but an American could have thought, and executed such a thing as this. One of the officers said he did not believe that the Devil himself would ever be able to keep these fellows in hell, if they determined on getting out.

The poor fellow who had crept out, and crept back again, was so chilled, or petrified with fear, that he could give the officers no account of the matter. In the mean time, muskets were fired; and a general alarm given through the fleet of prison ships, fifteen in number. The river was soon covered with boats; but not a man could they find. The next day the man who escaped was found dead on the beach, where he lay two days in the sight of us all. At length a coroner's inquest was held upon him; but no one was examined by the jury, excepting the crew of the boat, who first discovered him. It was said that there were bruises about his head. His ship-mates said, that he was one of the best swimmers they ever knew. It was strongly suspected that he was discovered swimming, and that some of the marines knocked him on the head, in revenge for turning them out of their hammocks in the night. His clothing, his money, and his watch, were taken by lieutenant Osmore, the commander of this prison ship. It was disgraceful to the civil authority, to allow the man to lay such a long space of time, unexamined, and unburied, on the shores of a Christian people.

When the prisoners were called to answer to their names, those absent were called over several times; when some of the prisoners answered, that "the absentees had been paroled by the commander, and gone on shore." This saucy answer enraged the commander, excited his resentment, and laid the foundation for future difficulties.

I must needs say, that some of our young men treated Mr. Osmore, the first officer of this prison ship, in a manner not to be excused, or even palliated. If they did not love him, or esteem him, still, as he was the legally constituted commander of this depot of prisoners, he was entitled to good manners, which he did not always receive, as the following anecdote will show. Not long after the escape of the sixteen men, our commander and his family were getting into the boat to go on shore, on a Sunday, when a boy looked out of a port near to him, and cried out baa! baa! This, Mr. Osmore took as an insult, and ordered the port to be shut down; but the messes that were accommodated by the light from it, forced it up again. Now the origin of this ludicrous and sheep-like interjection was this: a story was in circulation, that lieutenant O. had taken slyly some sheep from the neighboring marshes, without leave or license, and converted them to his own use; and that the owner being about to prosecute him, the affair was made up, by the interposition of friends, on compensation being made. Now it is probable that there was not a word of truth in this story; but that was the report. The commander, therefore, on finding his orders resisted by the prisoners, directed some marines to shut the port, and confine it down with spikes; and ordered the sentinel to fire into the port if they forced it open again. Upon this, some of the prisoners tore up a large oaken bench, with which they forced open the port; and kept the bench out, so as to keep up that valve, or heavy shutter, sustained on hinges, which when down, closes the port hole, at the same time the sheepish note of baa! baa! baa! was uttered from every part of the ship; sounding like an immense flock of sheep, that might have been heard full a mile. Although none of us could help joining in the loud laugh, for laughter is contagious, the most prudent of our countrymen condemned the conduct as highly improper. It was said, if one man is determined to insult another, let him do it, and abide the consequences; but never insult a man in the presence of his family. If we Americans are in the habit of ridiculing ribbands, and garters and keys, and crowns and sceptres, and mitres, and high sounding titles, let us never attempt to diminish the dignity of patriarchal rank.

The riot did not end here; for when the commander found that he could not keep the port entirely shut, he ordered the marines to drive the prisoners off the forecastle down into the pound, which occasioned the boys to sing out as before; and even to be more insulting. This he was determined to bear no longer; and he therefore drove them all below, allowing only the cooks to remain in the galley, and the caterers to go upon deck, to get water from the tanks. The market boats were forbidden to come near us; and in this state of embargo we remained during two days, all the time confined merely to the government allowance of food. At length, the committee requested the commander to transmit some letters for them to the American agent for prisoners, and to the British commodore. This he could not well refuse. These two officers accordingly came down to us. They requested the president of the committee to state to them the cause and course of the dispute. Mr. Osmore stated his complaint, and the president of our committee replied, and stated ours; and among other things, observed that the word "baa," had no more meaning than a thousand other senseless cries, uttering constantly from the throats of idle, thoughtless boys; and begged Mr. Osmore to explain how such an unmeaning sound could be construed into an insult to him; that if he and his officers should cry baa! baa! baa! all day, none of the Americans would think themselves injured or affronted. As to forcibly keeping the port open, the president observed, that however offended he might be, with a saucy boy, the men did not deserve to be deprived of the light of heaven, and to be confined below, and reduced to a smaller allowance of food. The result was, the hatches were ordered to be taken off; and we were all restored to our former situation. Capt. Hutchinson acquired an additional stock of popularity with the prisoners for this decision in our favor. The prisoners are discriminating, and not ungrateful. The sailing-master, who is a Scotchman, has always treated us with great tenderness and humanity. He has attended to our little conveniences; and forwarded our letters. Mr. Barnes never descends to little contemptible extortions; nor is he on the continual watch, lest his dignity should suffer by a look, a tone, or a playful interjection. When Osmore is absent, and Barnes gives orders, they are instantly and cheerfully obeyed. If there is any disorder, this worthy Scotchman can, by a word, restore harmony, of which we might give many instances. In reprimanding a boy, the other day, for ill behavior, he said to him, "I expect better things of you as an American; I consider you all in a different light from that of a d—d set of French monkies."

Mr. Galbreath is, likewise, a Scotchman; and he, too, is a very worthy man. These two worthy Caledonians operate together in alleviating our hard lot; and they do as much to please us, as the jealous and revengeful disposition of some body else will admit of. We are all pretty healthy, and the hospital arrangements on board are broken up.—Some few remain on board the hospital ship.

Tenders are daily passing down the river, filled with seamen and marines, bound to America. As they pass by us, they play "Yankee Doodle," and cry out to us, that they are bound to America, to flog the Yankees. We hollow to them, in return, and tell them what they will meet there, and predict to them their fate. Some of these fellows have been seven years at sea; and would desert to our colors the first opportunity. These white slaves expected to enjoy a little something like freedom, at the conclusion of the peace; but instead of setting their feet on shore, they are now sent off to leave their bones in America, without a moment's previous notice of their destination.

June 30th, 1814. Early in this month three men concealed themselves in the water-tank, through the connivance of the corporal of the guard; and so escaped from prison. More would have gone off by the same conveyance, had not one of the fugitives written an ironical letter to the commander, thanking him for his tenderness, humanity and extreme kindness, and foolishly acquainting him with the method he took to effect his escape; and this led to his recapture. Another fellow had the address to conceal himself in an old worn out copper that was sent to the dock to be exchanged for a new one. This man got safe out of the copper, but he found himself as bad off in the dock as in the prison ship. After roving and rambling about the dock, he was taken up by the guard, and rather than be sent on board a man of war, he confessed he had broken out of the prison ship; and he was immediately brought back to his former companions.

A rage exists for cutting holes through the wood work and copper of the ship; but no one has succeeded in escaping through them; neither have the enemy succeeded in their search after our tools. The holes were always discovered as the men were ready to enter the breach, which led us to suspect that we have secret informers among our crew, perhaps some Irish, Dane, or Dutchman.

A most daring attempt to escape was made on board the commodore's ship, the Irresistible, by four American prisoners. It is worth relating for its boldness; for it was in the open day, when all eyes were upon them. The jolly-boat lay near the stairs, with her oars in, under the care of a sentry. Notwithstanding she was thus guarded, four brave Americans resolved to seize her in spite of musketry, and row on shore, and run for it. One of them was from Rhode Island, being an Indian of the Narraganset tribe; he was a man of large stature and remarkable strength; and it was agreed that he should lead the way, in the bold enterprize. This stout man, whose name I wish I could remember, saw, as he thought, a favorable moment, and went down the side of the ship, followed by three others; he seized the sentry, and, in a moment, disarmed him, and threw him into the jolly-boat, which was below the staging, where the sentinel was placed. He immediately jumped in after him, the other three closely followed him, when they instantly pushed off, snatched up the oars, and rowed direct for the shore, with the agility of so many Nantucket-whalemen. The rapidity and complete effect with which all this was done, was astonishing to the British! They were, however, soon fired upon by all the sentries, who had any chance of reaching them, from all the ships as they passed. They got out their numerous boats with all speed; and placed in the bow of each as many marines as could well stand; and these kept up a continued fire of musketry upon the four fugitives in the jolly-boat, ballasted with a British prisoner. Notwithstanding close and heavy firing, they wounded but one of the four; so that three of them were able to run for it when the boat reached the shore. As soon as they sat foot on shore, they made directly for the fields. The marines soon followed, firing every few moments upon them, but without hitting them. Our men so completely distanced them, that we all thought they would make their escape from his majesty's marines, and they would have effected it, had not the country people poured out of the farm-houses, and the brick-yards. In a few minutes the fields appeared covered with people. They outran the marines, and pursued our brave adventurers so closely from all points, that they exhausted them of breath, and fairly run them down, all except the nervous Indian, and he did honor to the Narraganset tribe, and his brave ancestors, so renowned in New England history. We saw him from the Crown Prince prison ship, skipping over the ground like a buck, and defying his pursuers; but unfortunately for this son of the forest, he sprained his ancle in leaping a fence, which compelled him to surrender; otherwise he might have ran on to London, in fair chase, before they could have come up with him.

While sitting on the ground, and unable to walk, by reason of his dislocated bone, the country people approached him with caution. They did not think it quite safe to come close up to a man of his extraordinary stature, and commanding aspect. He was, however soon surrounded by a large number of marines, who had the great honor of recapturing a lame Indian, and conducting him back again to his Britannic majesty's fleet of three deckers, at anchor off his royal dock of Chatham!

We made several attempts to gain our liberty while lying in the river Medway; but none of our daring feats equalled this of the Indian. We gave him the name of Baron Trenck, and pronounced him his superior; for he had to pass the fire of several ships; and the jolly-boat appeared to be surrounded in a shower of shot, and yet only one man was wounded in the leg. When the Indian had made the fields, and was ascending the rising ground, all the prisoners in our ship gave him three cheers. We cheered him as he came along back in the boat with his comrades, and drank their healths in the first liquor we obtained. It is for deeds of bravery, and indications of a commanding mind, and superior strength, and agility of body, that our aboriginals in North America, appoint their kings; and certainly there is more sense and reason in it, than making the son a king because his father was king. This Indian was, by nature, a commander.

Something of the same cool and daring character was conspicuous in the master and crew of a very small New England schooner, in September 1759, when General Wolfe was investing Quebec by sea and land, and when the army and fleet under admiral Holmes, were cannonading and bombarding the city and numerous batteries of the French.

Amidst the grand movements of the army and navy, a schooner of the most diminutive size, which the navigator after called "the Terror of France," weighed her little anchor, and, to the astonishment of every one, was seen sailing past the batteries, up to the city. The French fired a great number of shot at her; nevertheless Jonathan steered steadily on, and got safe up, with her colors flying; and coming to anchor in the upper river, she triumphantly saluted admiral Holmes with a discharge from all her swivels. She met with no accident, except one man being slightly wounded on board. During this, says captain Knox, our batteries fired briskly on the town, to favor her as she passed. While the officers and gunners were enraged at what they deemed a contempt of their formidable batteries, other officers apologized afterwards for firing at this diminutive vessel, which was not much bigger than a man of war's launch, observing, that they imagined her passing to be the result of a frolicsome wager. They little thought that she was a New England trader, or rather huxter, ladened with notions, such as apples, dried and green, apple-sauce, onions, cheese, molasses, New England rum, and gingerbread, and a number of little ditto's, suitable, as the skipper thought, for the Quebec market, after it should have changed masters.

When the Captain of this famous little schooner went on board the British admiral, he enquired the name of his vessel. He replied, "The Terror of France;" which was painted on her stern. How are you armed? We have four swivels, three muskets, and one cutlass, beside a broad axe. How many men have you? We have three souls and a boy.—And where does your vessel belong, Captain, when you are at home? Updike's Newtown. And where is that, Sir? Does not Admiral Holmes know where Updike's Newtown is? says Jonathan, with a look of surprize. I do not at this moment recollect, Sir. Why Updike's Newtown is half way betwixt Pautuxet and Connanicut. The British admiral did not choose to risk his reputation with this fearless waterfowl, by asking him any more geographical questions.

We have dwelt on this ludicrous anecdote for the sake of one serious remark. Capt. John Knox, of the 43d British regiment, whose Historical Journal, in 2 volumes quarto, is dedicated to General Lord Amherst, never once intimates that this courageous man was from New England, but leaves the reader to infer that he and his "three souls and a boy," were Englishmen. In this way have all the British writers treated us Americans, although we all know in this country, that Louisbourg was taken by New-England-men. Throughout the whole war of 1758, and 1759, the English strained their voices to magnify themselves, and debase our character.

In this anecdote we see the first glimmerings of the New England character, which defies all danger, in the pursuit of gain. Here we see the characteristic marks of the Yankee, full twenty years before that term was ever used. The greatest things were once in embryo. These incipient germs will one day grow up to a naval and commercial greatness, that will infallibly push into the back-ground the conquerors of Quebec; and the spirit, which impelled and directed that diminutive schooner in passing safely hundreds of heavy cannon, and showers of bombs, may one day become not only the terror of France, but of England also. Great effects flow from trifling causes. It was a woman's[H] love of finery that peopled New England.

It was, to be sure, an extraordinary sight, mixed with something of the ludicrous, to see three white Americans, and one Indian, with a disarmed British red coat under their feet, in the jolly-boat, not daring to raise his head, while about thirty boats, with above 250 seamen, and nearly as many marines, were rowing, and puffing and blowing, and firing and loading, and loading and firing at a small boat, containing three American seamen and one Indian, without any weapon or instrument, except the oars they rowed with! While the British marines were ruffling the water around the flying boat with their bullets, we, on board the prison ships, sensible of their danger, felt as much interest, and probably more apprehension, than the fugitives themselves.—It was an anxious period of hope, fear and animating pride, which sometimes petrified us into silence, and then caused us to rend the air with acclamations, and clapping of hands. The Indian was, however, the hero of the piece. We saw, and admired his energetic mind, his abhorrence of captivity, and his irresistible love of freedom. This fellow was not, probably, at all below some of the Grecian captains, who went to the siege of Troy; and he only wanted the advantages of education, and of modern discipline, to have become a distinguished commander. The inspiring love of liberty was all the theme, after the daring exploit of our countrymen; and it made us uneasy, and stimulated us to contemplate similar acts of hardihood. We had now become pretty nearly tired of cutting holes through the ship's bottom and sides; for it was always detected, and we were made to pay for repairing the damage out of our provisions. After seeing what four men could effect, our thoughts turned more upon a general insurrection, than upon the partial escapes of a few. We perceived, clearly enough, that our keepers dreaded our enterprizing spirit; and we could discover that they knew we despised them, and ridiculed them. Some of our saucy boys, studying arithmetic, with their slates and pencils in their hands, would say out loud, as if stating a sum, "if it took 350 British seamen and marines to catch four yankees, how many British sailors and marines would it take to catch ten thousand of us?"

We could perceive a general uneasiness throughout our ship; even our good friend, Mr. ——, the worthy Scotchman, said to me, about this time, "your countrymen are such a restless, daring set of beings, that it is not safe to befriend you, and I wish you were all safe and happy in your own country; and all of us at peace." A change of situation was foretold; but of what kind, we know not.—The next chapter will inform us all about it.

PART SECOND.

CHAPTER I.

In consequence of various attempts to escape prison, and of the late daring enterprise at noon-day, the officers of this ignoble fleet of prison ships grew very uneasy.—They, doubtless, felt that there was neither honor nor pleasure, but much danger, in this sort of service. It was often said among them, that they felt perfectly safe when they had several thousand French prisoners under their charge. These lively people passed their time in little ingenious manufactures, and in gaming; and seemed to wait patiently until their day of liberation should come; but these Americans, said they, are the most restless, contriving set of men we ever saw; their amusement seems to be contriving how to escape, and to plague their keepers. They seem to take a pleasure in making us uneasy, and in exciting our apprehensions of their escape; and then they laugh and make themselves merry at our anxiety. One of the officers said, that the American prisoners "had systematized the art of tormenting." There is a sort of mischievous humor among our fellows, that is, at times, rather provoking, to officers habituated to prompt obedience, and to a distance, and deference bordering upon awe, which our countrymen never feel for any man.

It seems that the British government, or the admiralty department, were fully acquainted with this state of things, and with the difficult task which the miserable officers of this miserable Medway-fleet had to perform. The government did not seem to wish to exercise a greater degree of rigor over the American prisoners; because they knew, and all Europe knew, that the United States treated their prisoners with distinguished humanity; and yet they firmly believed that unless more rigor was exercised, the Americans would rise upon their keepers before the winter commenced.

The rumor is, that we are to be sent to Dartmoor prison. Some of our crew have lately received a letter from a prisoner in that depot of misery, for such he describes it. He tells us that it is situated in the most dreary and uncultivated spot in England; and that to the sterility of the soil are added the black coloring of superstition.

A Moor, a word not used in America, is used in England to denote a low, marshy piece of ground, or an elevated sterile spot, like our pine-barren's, divested of every thing like a pine tree. It denotes something between a beach and a meadow. It is a solemn-faced-truth in this country of our superstitious ancestors, that every extensive and dreary moor, in England, is haunted by troubled ghosts, witches, and walking dead men, visiting, in a sociable way, each other's graves. It is really surprising, to an intelligent American, and incredible, that stout, hearty, and otherwise bold Englishmen, dare not walk alone over the dreary spot, or moor, where the prison now stands, in a dark and cloudy night, without trembling with horror, at a nothing! The minds of Scotchmen, of all ranks, are more or less beclouded with this sort of superstition. They still believe in ghosts, witches, and a second sight! Free as we are from this superstition, we have rather more of it than the French. The English and American theatres still relish Macbeth and Hamlet. Beside the stories of witches flying about in the air, and dead men strolling over the moor, the letter contained an account of the origin of this new famous prison. It stated that this Dartmoor belonged to that beautiful gambler, the Dutchess of Devonshire;[I] who lost it in a game of hazard with the Prince of Wales; who, to enhance the value of it, (he being, as all the world knows, a very contriving, speculating, economical, close fisted, miserly genius) contrived to have erected there a species of a fortress, enclosing seven very large buildings, or prisons, for the reception of captured seamen; from which establishment its royal landlord received a very handsome annual rent; and this princely anecdote is as firmly believed as the stories of the witches, and the walking dead men. The only remark we would make upon it here, is, that Dartmoor has a dismal idea associated with it—and that was sufficient to make our people conceive of it as a place doleful as a coal-pit.

Not long after the receipt of this letter, one hundred and fifty of our countrymen were sent off, by water, to this Dartmoor Prison; but the measles appearing among them, they were stopped at the Nore, which is at the entrance of the Thames. They are every day drafting more, which are destined for the dismal prison house. We are all struck with horror at the idea of our removal from our ships in the river Medway, which runs through a beautiful country. It is "the untried scene," that fills us with dread, "for clouds and darkness rest upon it." Last year we were transported from inhospitable Nova Scotia, over the boisterous Atlantic; and suffered incredible hardships in a rough winter passage; and now we are to be launched again on the same tumultuous ocean, to go four hundred miles coast-wise, to the most dismal spot in England. Who will believe it? the men who exercised all their art and contrivance, and exerted all their muscular powers to cut through the double plankings and copper of a ship of the line, in hopes of escaping from her, now leave the same ship with regret! I have read of men who had been imprisoned, many years, in the Bastile, who, when liberated, sighed to return to their place of long confinement, and felt unhappy out of it! I thought it wondrous strange; but I now cease to be surprised. This prison ship, through long habit, and the dread of a worse place, is actually viewed with feelings of attachment. Of the hundred men who were sent hither last year, from Halifax, there are only about seventy of us remaining on board the Crown Prince. The next draft will lessen our numbers; and separate some of those who have been long associates in bondage. It is not merely the bodily inconvenience of being transported here and there, that we dread, so much as the exposure to insult, and sarcasm of our unfeeling enemies. We have been, and still dread to be again placed in rows, on board of a ship, or in a prison yard, to be stared at by the British vulgar, just as if we were Guinea negroes, exposed to the examination of some scoundrel negro merchants, commissioned to re-stock a plantation with black cattle, capable of thinking, talking, laughing and weeping. This is not all. We have been obliged often to endure speeches of this sort, most commonly uttered in the Scotch accent.—"My life on't that fellow is a renegado Englishman, or Irishman—an halter will be, I hope, his portion. D—n all such rebel-looking rascals." Whatever our feelings and resentments may be on account of impressment, inhuman treatment, and plundering our fobs and pockets, and of our clothing, we never speak of the British king and government in terms of gross indecency; whereas, we American prisoners of war, are often assailed with the bitterest sarcasms and curses of the President of the United States, the Congress, and some of our military commanders.

The British have been long in the habit of treating the Americans contemptuously. It began as long ago as 1757, when Lord Loudoun, General Abercromby, Admiral Holborne, Admiral Boscawen, Lord Colville, Sir Jeffry Amherst, and General Wolfe, came over here to cut the wings and tail of the wild descendants of Englishmen, in order to make of them a kind of sea poy soldiery. It is a curious fact, that some of the Scotch highlanders were at that time shot by our Yankee sentinels, because they did not know enough of the English language to give Jonathan the counter-sign! So long ago did mutual contempt begin between the natives of Old England and New.

I have already mentioned that all my family, as well as myself, were what they called "Federalists," or fault-finders, and opposers of Madison's administration; and that I, and all the rest of us, dropt every trait of federalism in the British prisons, where, to call a man a Federalist, was resented as the deepest insult. I appeal to all my companions in misery, for the accuracy of this opinion. A man who is willing to expose his life to the balls and bayonets of his country's foes, to the enemies of his government, and to the independence and union of his nation, holds his country and the government of his choice, in higher estimation than his life. Such a man cannot hear the United States and their President spoken of in terms of contempt, without feeling the keenest anguish. This I have felt; and have remarked its effects in the countenances of my insulted comrades. Situated as we are, it would be great imprudence to resent what we are often obliged to hear. Captivity, under British prison-keepers, and British captains of transport-men-of-war, are the proper colleges for teaching the love of our republican government, and attachment to its administration; and they are proper places to make the rankest federalist abjure his errors, and cling to the constituted authorities of the country whose flag he adores, and for whose defence he exposes his life. It is inconceivable how closely we are here pressed together in the cause of our dear country; and in honor of its high officers. Were all the inhabitants of the United States as unanimous in their political sentiments, as we are, in the river Medway, they would all be ready to exclaim, each man to his neighbour,

Rouse, and revive your ancient glory,
Unite—and drive the world before you.

July 1st, 1813.—Our feelings are all alive at this joyous season, for we are now making preparations for celebrating the birth-day of our nation; and though in captivity, we are determined not to suffer the glorious Fourth of July to pass over without testifying our undivided attachment to our beloved country, and to the cause it is fighting for.—Each mess are making arrangements in, besure, a small and humble, but a hearty way, for the celebration; and it is a curious spectacle to see the pleasureable anticipations of the prisoners, in a feast of good things, all of which would not amount to so plentiful a repast, as that which the criminals in our State Prison, near Boston, enjoy almost every day, the plenty of good porter excepted. Application has been made to Capt. Hutchinson, for an additional allowance of beer and porter, which request he has granted, with his usual goodness. Every brain is at work to know how to spend what we have been accumulating for the Fourth of July, with the most pleasure, and the most propriety.

The Fourth of July, 1813, is past. We petitioned the commander to allow us to hoist the American flag, but he refused to gratify us. Application was then made to the Commodore, who gave permission that we might hoist our national colors, as high as the top of our railings; and the same permission was granted to all the other prison ships. We had obtained a drum and fife; and being all assembled on the forecastle, and such other parts of the ship as were accessible to us, prisoners, we in the morning struck up the animating tune of Yankee Doodle; and saluted the Nassau prison ship with three cheers, which was returned; the ships more distant caught the joyful sound, and echoed it back to its source. The fife and drum, the latter ornamented with the king's arms, played the whole forenoon, while the jovial prisoners drank, in English porter, Success to the American cause!

At twelve o'clock, an Oration, hastily prepared, and rather too inflammatory for about a tenth part of our audience, was delivered, by a prisoner of respectable talents; a man, who, having been impressed into the British service, had been promoted to the rank of boatswain of a frigate; and liberated from the service in consequence of his declaring it against his honor and conscience to fight against his countrymen, or aid in pulling down the colors of his nation. This man, very deliberately, mounted an elevation, and with great force, and with a characteristical freedom, pronounced an Address, which the prisoners listened to with profound silence, excepting the clapping of hands, and sometimes cheers, at the end of such sentences as warmed and overpowered their silence. At the close of the whole, the orator was greeted with three times, three cheers, throughout the ship, which reached even to the shores. The oratory of the boatswain seemed to electrify the officers and men set over us. The master and the surgeon appeared really pleased; even Osmer, our jailor, "grinn'd horribly a ghastly smile."

After the Oration, we returned below to our prepared dinners, at which our reverend orator asked a blessing, with more fervor than is commonly observed in our Cossack clergymen; and we fell to, with a zest and hilarity rarely to be found among a large collection of prisoners. If, like the captive Jews on the Euphrates, we had hung our harps upon the willows of the Medway, we took them down on this joyous occasion. We felt the spirit of freedom glow within us; and we anticipated the day when we should celebrate our anniversary in that dear land of liberty, which we longed to see, and panted after, as the thirsty hart pants after the water brooks.

The Fourth of July was celebrated in a very becoming manner on board the Nassau prison ship, by similar acts of rejoicing. I have obtained a copy of the Oration, delivered by a seaman, on that day. Among the audience, were several ladies and gentlemen from the neighbourhood.

AN ORATION,[J]

Delivered by permission, on board the Nassau prison ship, at Chatham, England, by an American Seaman, prisoner of war.

MY FELLOW PRISONERS, AND BELOVED COUNTRYMEN,

We are assembled to commemorate that ever memorable Fourth of July, 1776, when our forefathers, inspired with the love of liberty, dared to divest themselves of the shackles of tyranny and oppression: yes, my friends, on that important day these stripes were hoisted on the standard of liberty, as a signal of unity, and of their determination to fight under them, until America was numbered among the nations of the globe, as one of them, a free and independent nation. Yes, my countrymen, she was determined to spare neither blood nor treasure, until she had accomplished the grand object of her intentions; an object, my friends, which she was prompted by Heaven to undertake, and inspired by all that honor, justice, and patriotism could infuse; her armies were then in the field, with a Washington at their head, whose upright conduct and valorous deeds you have often heard related, and the memory of whom should be held sacred in the breasts of every true-born American. Let his heart beat high at the name of Washington! Sacred as the archives of heaven! for he was a man of truth, honor, and integrity, and a soldier fostered by the gods, to be the saviour of his country.

The struggle was long and arduous; but our rallying word was—"Liberty or Death!" Torrents of blood were spilt; towns and villages were burnt, and nothing but havoc, devastation and destruction, was seen from one end of the continent to the other; and this was not all; but, to complete the horrid scene, an infernal horde of savage murderers was prompted by our enemy to butcher our helpless wives and children! Then did our fathers' patriotic hearts swell in their bosoms, and they were ten-fold more resolved to break the yoke of the tyrant.

I recite these things, my countrymen, that you may know how to prize your liberty, that precious gem for which your fathers fought, wading in rivers of blood, until it pleased the Almighty to crown their arms with success; and, glorious to relate, America was acknowledged free and independent, by all the powers of Europe. Happy period! then did our warriors exult in what they had so nobly achieved; then commerce revived, and the thirteen stripes were hoisted upon the tall masts of our ships, and displayed from pole to pole; emigrants flocked from many parts to taste our freedom, and other blessings heaven had bestowed upon us; our population increased to an incredible degree; our commerce flourished, and our country has been the seat of peace, plenty and happiness, for many years. At length the fatal blast reached our land! America was obliged to unsheath the sword in justification of her violated rights. Our ships were captured and condemned upon frivolous pretensions; our seamen were dragged from their lawful employment; they were torn from the bosom of their beloved country; sons from their fathers; husbands from their wives and children, to serve with reluctance for many years, under the severity of a martial law. The truth of this many of you can attest to, perhaps with inward pining and a bleeding heart!