THE PRISONERS’ MEMOIRS,
OR
DARTMOOR PRISON;

CONTAINING A COMPLETE AND IMPARTIAL HISTORY OF

The Entire Captivity of the Americans in England,

FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE LAST WAR BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES AND GREAT BRITAIN, UNTIL ALL PRISONERS WERE RELEASED BY THE TREATY OF GHENT.

Also, a particular detail of all occurrences relative to the

HORRID MASSACRE AT DARTMOOR,

On the fatal evening of the 6th of April, 1815.

THE WHOLE CAREFULLY

COMPILED BY A PRISONER IN ENGLAND,

Who was a Captive during the whole War.

——Quæque ipse miserrima vidi,

Et quorum pars magna fui; quis talia fando,

Temperet a lacrymis?

Virg. I., ii., v. 5.

“These sufferings I myself have seen, and to the greater part of which I was a principal party. Who can relate such woes without a tear?”

NEW YORK:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR.

1852.

PREFACE.

The following pages are presented to the public by one of the survivors of this worst of prisons, believing it will be read with deep interest by every American, and by every relative and friend of those who happened to be one of the unfortunate inmates of the Dartmoor Prison.

If any part of the work should be found languid and tedious, it must be wholly attributed to the suffering situation of the author; the vigor and vivacity of whose mind was greatly affected by those of the body. If misery is less interesting collectively in groups than when viewed individually, let the reader single out one, and view him, separately, through the iron grating, and see him, pale and feeble, etching upon a stick, with a rusty nail, another notch, which adds to his calender another of those dismal days and nights he had spent in confinement; he may view him till he sees the iron enter his soul before he turns from him, and then say—it was my son, my brother, or my friend!—he will then have a picture interesting enough to his feelings.

COPYRIGHT SECURED.

CERTIFICATE.

We, the undersigned, late prisoners of war, having been confined the greater part of the last war between the United States of America and Great Britain, and having carefully perused and examined the following Manuscript Journal, kept by Charles Andrews, our fellow-prisoner at Dartmoor, in the County of Devon, in the kingdom of Great Britain, do solemnly declare, that all matter and occurences herein contained, are just and true, to the best of our knowledge and belief; and that this is the only Journal kept at Dartmoor.

N. B.—Out of the above list there are, at this time, only nine survivors, as far as can be ascertained.

THE PRISONERS’ MEMOIRS,

OR

DARTMOOR PRISON.

The war between the United States of America and Great Britain, which has been so costly in blood and treasure, and agonized the hearts of so many thousands of our fellow-beings, was formally declared, by a proclamation issued by the President of the United States, in conformity with a solemn act of the supreme legislature of the nation, on the eighteenth day of June, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and twelve. The nations were, by this act, at open hostilities, and began to capture each other’s vessels upon the high seas, wherever found. I myself happened to be so unfortunate as to be among the first captives brought into England. On our first arrival there, we were all collected from different ports, and confined in different prisons. Some were sent to Chatham, some to Hamoze, and others to Portsmouth; where a strict examination took place as to their nativity and citizenship. After the examination, the officers who were entitled to their parole, (such as commanders and first lieutenants of privateers mounting fourteen guns, commanders and first mates of merchantmen, non-combatants, &c.) received it, and were sent to the little village of Ashburton, in Devonshire, or Reading, in Berkshire; the former is situated about twenty-six miles inland from Plymouth, and the principal place of confinement for paroled officers. The town of Ashburton is pleasantly situated in a healthy and fertile part of the country, where every article of provision is more easily obtained and at a much cheaper rate than in many other parts of the kingdom. Here all the officers on parole had their names registered, and particular personal description taken of them. They had allowed them by the British government one shilling and six pence, which is equal to thirty-three and a quarter cents, money of the United States, per day each man. With this small allowance, great numbers of paroled officers were compelled entirely to subsist, for having no other dependence and no friends in this country, they were obliged to purchase clothing, board, and lodging, and all other necessaries of life, and to make use of every economy to prevent themselves from suffering, notwithstanding the cheapness of provisions, and the facility of obtaining them. They were permitted, during the day, to walk one mile on the turnpike road towards London or Plymouth, and at a certain early hour every evening they had to retire to their respective lodgings, and there to remain till next morning; those were their general restrictions for all the days in the week, except two, on which every officer must answer at a particular place appointed by their keepers, in the presence of their agent or inspector. In this manner some hundreds of officers were compelled to drag out a tedious existence in a state of painful solicitude for their country, their homes and families, during the greater part of the late war.

But the condition of the officers on parole was enviable indeed, when compared with that of the officers and others not entitled to that privilege. Every such person taken under the flag of the United States, were sent to some one of the places before mentioned, and confined on board prison ships. The greatest number were sent to the Hector and La Brave, two line of battle ships which were unfit for his majesty’s service at sea, and were now used for the confinement of prisoners of war. These were placed under the command of a lieutenant, master’s mate, midshipman, and about twenty invalid seamen; there is also a guard under the command of a lieutenant, ensign, and corporal, consisting of thirty-five soldiers to each of these ships.

The Hector and La Brave lie about two miles from Plymouth, well moored by chain moorings. Captain Edward Pelew, of the royal navy, the agent for prisoners of war, resides at this place. On the reception of all prisoners into their respective prison ships, they were obliged to undergo a strict examination concerning their birth, place of residence, and age; a complete and minute description of their person in all respects was taken down in writing. After the examination, there was delivered to each man a very coarse and worthless hammock, with a thin coarse bed-sack, with at most not more than three or four pounds of flops or chopped rags, one thin coarse and sleazy blanket; this furniture of the bedchamber was to last for a year and a half before we could draw others. After the distribution of the bedding, we were informed of the rules and restrictions which we must strictly observe. Every ship has a physician attached to it, who is ever to be on board, and when any prisoner is sick, he is to repair immediately to a certain part of the ship for medical aid; but seldom has he any attention paid him till the moment of dissolution, the doctors paying but little attention to the suffering prisoners, although a prisoner is seldom or never suffered to expire on board; for at the moment death seems inevitably approaching, the prisoner is removed to a ship lying near by, called the hospital ship, where if he happen to survive the removal, he receives much better treatment and attendance; but when once removed to that ship, they may bid adieu to their fellow-prisoners, and most of them to sublunary things; for not more than one out of ten ever recovers.

We were then informed, that the Transport Board had most graciously and humanely, for the health and happiness of the prisoners, imposed on them the following duty; to keep clean the ship’s decks and hold; to hoist in water, provisions, coal, and every other article expended or used in the ship; and also to permit the prisoners to cook their own victuals, which consisted of the following rations allowed by the English government: To each man one pound and a half of very poor coarse bread, half a pound of beef, including the bone, one-third of an ounce of salt, and the same quantity of barley, with one or two turnips, per man. These were the rations for five days in the week; the other two were fish days, the rations for which were one pound of salt fish, the same weight of potatoes, and the usual allowance of bread.

The confinement, and this scanty and meager diet for men who were brought up in a land of liberty, and ever used to feast on the luscious fruits of plenty, soon brought on a pale and sickly countenance, a feeble and dejected spirit, and a lean, half animate body. This bad state of living, I solemnly believe, has been the serious cause of inducing many valuable citizens of the United States to enter the king’s service, to the great injury of their country.

The prisoners are counted every night as they are ordered below by the guard; and every morning, about sunrise, each prisoner is obliged to “take up his bed and walk;” for he is ordered to shoulder his hammock and go on deck, and be counted with it on his shoulder. He then leaves his hammock on deck all day, and has permission to go below or remain on deck, as best suits his convenience.

No prisoner is permitted to hold any correspondence, except by unsealed letters passing through the hands of the Board of Transport. No boat is permitted to come alongside the ship, unless by permission of the commanding officer, and then must be strictly examined by the sentry, to prevent any liquor, newspapers, or candles, from coming among the prisoners; these being prohibited by the gracious and humane Board of Transport.

For consolation in our present miserable condition, we were informed that the said honorable Board had indulgently permitted the American prisoners to establish and carry on any branch of manufacture, except such as netting, woollen fabrics, making straw hats and bonnets, &c. &c.; or rather, they prohibited every branch of manufactory which they were capable of pursuing. At this time they could have carried on the making of straw into flats for bonnets with very considerable advantage, as almost every sailor was more or less capable of working at this art, and, by strict attention to the business, could have earned six or eight pence sterling per day: but this was not permitted, and we considered this prohibition a contrivance of the agents of government to induce the prisoners to enter his majesty’s service. Their situation was now so abject and wretched, that they were willing to embrace any opportunity where there was the least prospect of bettering their condition, however repugnant to their feelings or sentiments; and though their country’s interest was ever nearest to their hearts, yet, through the faint hope of ameliorating their condition, and some day or other of returning to their native land, their wives and families, some of less fortitude were induced to join in arms against their country. It could not be a crime; for self-preservation is the first law of nature.

From the first of our imprisonment, which was shortly after the commencement of the war, prisoners were constantly arriving, and immediately disposed of in one or other of these depots:—among them were great numbers of American seamen who had been delivered up from the different ships of war in the English service, on board of which they had remained from one to ten years, and after receiving many dozen lashes at the gangway of the ships, were sent to prison with the appellation of “dammed rebellious villains, unfit for his majesty’s service!”

During the fall of the year one thousand eight hundred and twelve, until April in one thousand eight hundred and thirteen, the English had collected at the following depots the number hereinafter mentioned, who were mostly prisoners delivered up from ships of war, and citizens of the United States detained in them for some time before. At Chatham were collected about nine hundred; at Portsmouth, about one hundred; and at Plymouth, about seven hundred. These unfortunate men had often made application to Mr. Beasley, the agent for American prisoners of war, who resided in England, but were never able to obtain an answer from him. At this time, great numbers of the oldest prisoners were completely destitute of clothing, and the most active and cleanly unable to avoid being covered with vermin.

On the second of April, one thousand eight hundred and thirteen, the Transport Board, apprehending the escape of the prisoners, in consequence of their repeated threats to that purpose, issued an order to Captain Pelew, then agent for the prisoners at Plymouth, to make preparation for removing all the prisoners then confined on board the Hector prison-ship, at Plymouth, to the depot at Dartmoor, in the county of Devon, situated seventeen miles from Plymouth, in the back country.

These orders were accordingly made known to the prisoners; and on the morning of the third of April, they were ordered on deck, with their hammocks, baggage, &c., in readiness to march to a prison, the very name of which made the mind of every prisoner “shrink back with dread, and startle at the thought;” for fame had made them well acquainted with the horrors of that infernal abode, which was by far the most dreadful prison in all England, and in which it was next to impossible for human beings long to survive.

Two hundred and fifty dejected and unhappy sufferers, already too wretched, were called, each of whom received a pair of shoes, and his allowance of bread and salt fish. Orders were then immediately given, for every man to deliver up his bed and hammock, and to repair forthwith into the different launches belonging to the ships of war, which were alongside the ship, ready to receive them. The prisoners entered, surrounded by the guards and seamen belonging to the Hector and La Brave. We were landed at New Passage, near Plymouth, and were placed under the guard of a company of soldiers, equal in number to the prisoners! Orders were then given to march at half-past ten in the morning, with a positive injunction that no prisoner should step out of, or leave the ranks, on pain of instant death. Thus we marched, surrounded by a strong guard, through a heavy rain, and over a bad road, with only our usual and scanty allowance of bread and fish. We were allowed to stop only once during the march of seventeen miles.

We arrived at Dartmoor late in the after part of the day, and found the ground covered with snow. Nothing could form a more dreary prospect than that which now presented itself to our hopeless view. Death itself, with the hopes of an hereafter, seemed less terrible than this gloomy prison.

The prison at Dartmoor is situated on the east side of one of the highest and most barren mountains in England, and is surrounded on all sides, as far as the eye can see, by the gloomy features of a black moor, uncultivated and uninhabited, except by one or two miserable cottages, just discernible in an eastern view, the tenants of which live by cutting turf on the moor, and selling it at the prison. The place is deprived of every thing that is pleasant or agreeable, and is productive of nothing but human woe and misery. Even riches, pleasant friends and liberty could not make it agreeable. It is situated seventeen miles distant from Plymouth, fourteen from the town of Moorton, and seven from the little village of Tavastock.

On entering this depot “of living death,” we first passed through the gates, and found ourselves surrounded by two huge circular walls, the outer one of which is a mile in circumference and sixteen feet high; the inner wall is distant from the outer thirty feet, around which is a chain of bells suspended by a wire, so that the least touch sets every bell in motion, and alarms the garrison. On the top of the inner wall is placed a guard at the distance of every twenty feet, which frustrates every attempt at escape, and instantly quells every disorderly motion of the prisoners. Between the two walls and over the intermediate space, are also stationed guards. The soldiers’ guard house, the turnkey’s office, and many other small buildings, are also within these two circular walls. Likewise several large commodious dwelling-houses, which are occupied by the captain of the prison, doctor, clerks, turnkeys, &c., &c. Inside of the walls are erected large barracks, capacious enough to contain one thousand soldiers, and also a hospital for the reception of the sick. No pains have been spared to render the hospital convenient and comfortable for the sick prisoner. And certainly much credit is due to the director of this humane institution, whoever he may have been, for the attention paid to this most important appendage of an extensive prison. These last mentioned buildings, and several small store-houses, are enclosed by a third wall. These three ranks of walls form in this direction a barrier which is insurmountable.

Thus much for the court-yard of this seminary of misery; we shall next proceed to give a description of the gloomy mansion itself. On entering, we found seven prisons enclosed in the following manner, and situated quite within all the walls before mentioned. Prison No. 1, 2 and 3, are built of hard, rough, unhewn stone, three stories high, one hundred and eighty feet long and forty broad; each of these prisons, on an average, are to contain fifteen hundred prisoners. There is also attached to the yard of these prisons a house of correction, called a cachot; this is built of large stone, arched above and floored with the same. Into this cold, dark, and damp cell, the unhappy prisoner is cast if he offend against the rules of the prison, either willingly or inadvertently, and often on the most frivolous pretence. There he must remain for many days, and often weeks, on two-thirds the usual allowance of food, without a hammock or bed, and nothing but a stone pavement for his chair and bed. These three prisons are situated on the north side of the enclosure, as is also the cachot, and separated from the other prisons by a wall. Next to these is another, No. 4, which is equally as large as any of the others; this is separated from all the others by a wall on each side, and stands in the centre of the circular walls.

Adjoining to this, are situated, in rotation, prisons No. 5, 6, and 7, along the south side of the circular wall. To each prison is attached a small yard, with a constant run of water passing through it.

After viewing this huge pile of building, and obtaining what little information we were able at this time, we were informed that these seven prisons contained a small family of French people, consisting of about eight thousand, who were also prisoners of war. Among these fluttering, ghastly skeletons, we were directed to take up our abode, and distribute ourselves as well as we could.

We received our usual hammock and bed, and in conformity with our orders, repaired separately to one or other of six of these prisons; the seventh being allotted to those criminals who had committed misdemeanors, such as murder, larceny on their fellow-prisoners, and other heinous offences, which too frequently occurred.

We entered the prisons; but here the heart of every American was appalled. Amazement struck the unhappy victim; for as he cast his hopeless eyes around the prison, he saw the water constantly dropping from the cold stone walls on every side, which kept the floor (made of stone) constantly wet, and cold as ice.

All the prison floors were either stone or cement, and each story contained but one apartment, and resembled long vacant horse-stables. There were in each story six tiers of joists for the prisoners to fasten their hammocks to. The hammocks have a stick at each end to spread them out, and are hung in the manner of cots, four or five deep, or one above the other. On each side of the prison is left a vacancy for a passage from one end of the prison to the other. We were then informed that the prisoners must be counted out and messed, six together, every morning by the guards and turnkeys.

During the month of April there was scarce a day but more or less rain fell. The weather here is almost constantly wet and foggy, on account of the prison being situated on the top of a mountain, whose elevation is two thousand feet above the level of the sea. This height is equal to the plane on which the clouds generally float in a storm, the atmosphere not being dense enough to support heavy clouds much above that height; almost every one that passes that way finds the top of the mountain enveloped in a thick fog and heavy torrent of rain. In winter the same cause makes as frequent snows as rain in summer. It is also some degrees colder during the whole year than in the adjacent country below. This too is occasioned by the great elevation of the top of the mountain, which is above the atmosphere heated by the reflected rays of the sun upon the common surface of the earth, and being small of itself, reflects but little heat. These two causes combined, produce constant cold and wet weather.

Information was brought us that all prisoners in England were placed on a naval establishment, and under the direction of a naval officer. Captain Isaac Cotgrave, of the royal navy, was the agent for the prisoners of war at this depot. The Transport Board directed that a market should be held every day, in front of each prison yard. This market was supplied with provisions by the inhabitants of the adjacent country; twenty or thirty of whom came every day, and furnished it with every kind of country produce. They were not allowed to impose on the prisoners, by demanding an exhorbitant price for their produce; the prices of every article were fixed by the turnkeys before they entered the yard, according to the prices in the nearest market-town. No person was permitted to enter within the first gate, without being strictly examined as to their business, and without giving a satisfactory account of themselves; if they did this, they were then permitted to enter and begin their trade.

At the market, the French prisoners carry on a great traffic. They buy and sell, and are, apparently, as happy as if they were not imprisoned. But the Americans are not so;—they long for that land of liberty, so dear to them, and sigh for their distant home.

As this depot seems to be the most interesting scene of misery, we shall confine ourselves more particularly to the events which occurred here; only touching, occasionally, upon the most important events of the few prisoners at the other depots.

From the commencement of the war, and previous to April 1813, a great number of prisoners had been sent home, by exchange. Numbers died, and some entered the service of Great Britain. The names of those who died, and those who entered the service, are mentioned in the catalogue hereunto annexed. About the first of May, Captain Cotgrave gave orders to have all the American prisoners collected from the different prisons, and transferred to prison No. 4.

In this prison were about nine hundred of the most abject and outcast wretches that were ever beheld. French prisoners, too wicked and malicious to live with their other unfortunate countrymen: they were literally and emphatically naked; having neither clothing or shoes, and as poor and meager in flesh as the human frame could bear. Their appearance was really shocking to human feeling. The mind cannot figure to itself any thing in the shape of men, which so much resembled the fabled ghosts of Pluto, as these naked and starved French prisoners. Much of the misery and wretchedness of these creatures was owing to their imprudence and bad conduct.

These men were now to be our associates, and we deprived of the privileges allowed heretofore to prisoners of war. As the gate of this yard is always kept shut, we could have no advantage of the markets, or connexion with the other prisoners; while the French prisoners, in the other prisons, were allowed those benefits.

The American prisoners now began to experience a new scene of distress;—the little clothing they had when they were taken, was either worn out or disposed of at a very reduced price, (not more than one tenth of the value,) to buy the very necessary articles of soap and tobacco.

We remained in this situation during the month of May, one thousand eight hundred and thirteen, close confined in prison No. 4, with the liberty of that one yard. We often demanded of Captain Cotgrave, the reason why such distinction was made between the American and French prisoners; but were never able to obtain any other reason, than that his orders were issued from the Transport Board to do so. This month we received letters from our fellow-prisoners at Chatham, and those on board the prison ships at Plymouth; who informed us of every particular of their situation at both places; but they were comparatively well off, when compared with our situation. The prisoners at Plymouth informed us, that other prisoners arrived there daily, and that they expected shortly to be removed, and to participate with us in the sufferings and misery of Dartmoor.

On the twenty-ninth of May, the garrison which we found here, was removed and supplied by new regiments of soldiers. We learned, that no regiment is stationed here more than two or three months at a time. These guards consist of about twelve or fifteen hundred soldiers, who have been guilty of some offence, disobedience of orders, or neglect of duty; and are sent here as a punishment. By these soldiers we were informed of the particulars of the actions of the Java and Peacock.

At this time we made known, in as respectful a manner as we could, all the particulars of our unhappy situation to Mr. Reuben G. Beasley, agent for American prisoners of war. We informed him that our allowance was too scanty, that the whole day’s allowance was scarcely enough for one meal, that the greater part of the prisoners were in a state of nakedness; and also, that great numbers had enlisted out of the prison, into the king’s service;—that they had been compelled to do it, in hopes to better their condition, and indeed to preserve life. For, as they were wholly neglected by the agent of their country, they saw no other means by which it was possible to preserve existence—or ever to return to their country; as they totally despaired of any exchange.

At the same time we informed him, that unless something was done soon for our relief, we must all either (though reluctantly) enter the service of the enemy, or fall a sacrifice to famine and want.

We informed him also of the distinction which was made between the French and American prisoners. The former were allowed many privileges and advantages, which were denied the latter; and that our treatment was contrary to what we considered the custom and usage of civilized nations in modern warfare. That we were hurried into the prison-house before dark, locked up, to remain without any light or fire till seven or eight o’clock in the morning.

If a prisoner had to leave his hammock, per necessitatem, he was obliged to grope from one end of the room to the other, and often could not regain it during the whole night.

To all these petitions, complaints, and remonstrances, Mr. Beasley returned no answer, nor took any notice of them whatever; which, of course, made every prisoner despair of any relief from him. These letters could not miscarry, or be intercepted; for we had formed a course of correspondence with several very respectable mercantile houses in London, through which our letters were sure to reach Mr. Beasley by private conveyance.

The month of June commenced with deep distress; for disease was then added to nakedness and famine; and we were still more severely dealt by. For Doctor Dyer, who was head surgeon of the Hospital-department, would not permit an American prisoner to be brought into the hospital, until his complaint was completely confirmed, and often not until he was so weak, and reduced so low, that it would take four men to remove him on his hammock. For this conduct, he justified himself by saying, that he had been acquainted with the impositions of the Americans during the revolutionary war, and that these impositions were not to be played off on him any more.

A moment’s reflection must have convinced him, that it was impossible for these men not to be sick, in their starved, naked and wretched condition; sleeping in a prison, whose walls were constantly wet and cold, occasioned by the constant rainy, foggy, and damp weather on this mountain.

But he refused to admit the American prisoners into the hospital, because, he said, such numbers would breed every kind of pestilence and disease among the French prisoners. We attributed these evils to the shameful and criminal neglect of the agent of American prisoners, whose conduct deserves the severest censure of every prisoner, and requires a strict and impartial investigation by the authority of his country.

From the first to the fifteenth of May, we were every day called out of the prison and counted, to see if any remained in prison. The soldiers then entered the prison, and searched every hammock; if they found any prisoner, he was hastened out into the yard, though they were often found so weak and feeble, that it required assistance to enable them to walk.

The guards discharged this duty with great reluctance; their feelings often revolted, when compelled to do this unkind office, and though accustomed to scenes of distress, were very sensibly touched at the miserable situation of these their fellow beings.

On the eighteenth of May, we received letters from the other depots, and were informed that there were seven hundred prisoners at Plymouth, on board the Hector, which was so much crowded, that Captain Pelew, of the Royal Navy, and principal agent of the Board, had received orders from the Board, to remove the prisoners to other depots, either to that of Chatham, Dartmoor, or Stapleton, which is near Bristol. This last place was fixed on by the Board as a necessary precaution to prevent any disturbance, which was apprehended might arise, should too many American prisoners be confined in one place.

Accordingly, on the twenty-eighth, Captain Pelew ordered two hundred and fifty to be landed from the Hector and marched to Dartmoor. They arrived there on the same day, and after going through the same manœuvre as the first draft, they were committed to No. 4. These, together with the former draft, made four hundred and seventy Americans, and seven hundred naked outcast French, all intermixed in one prison.

Care was taken to keep the yard of this prison always locked, to prevent us from going to market. By this means, all we obtained from the market came through the hands of the French prisoners in the other prisons, who obliged us to pay twenty-five per cent. above the market price for all we had. At this time, about thirty were missing out of the number, some dead, and others had enlisted into the king’s service.

On the twenty-ninth, fifty more American prisoners were transported from on board the Hector, in a ship of war, round to Chatham. Two only at a time were permitted to come on deck; the others were compelled to remain below, without hammock, bed, or blanket. I leave the reader to judge whether this measure arose from wanton cruelty in those immediately concerned, or whether it was absolutely necessary to prevent their escape, or rising and taking the ship, which had her whole crew on board.

On the thirtieth, two hundred prisoners were ordered to go ashore, who accordingly made themselves ready, and landed at New Passage, under a guard of seamen and marines. Here they were received by a guard of soldiers, consisting of two hundred and fifty, who were to convey them on foot one hundred and thirty-four miles to Stapleton, within a few miles of Bristol.

Stapleton is a pleasant situation, and is a fine healthy country; but the fatigue of the journey, the restrictions and inconvenience to which the prisoners were subjected, presented to them a melancholy prospect.

At the commencement of their journey, they were provided with a shilling (twenty-two and a half cents) per day, for their traveling expenses. This was all the allowance made them to purchase food, drink, and lodging; and they were to perform the whole journey in eight days. They were also particularly enjoined not to leave the ranks on pain of death, and the guard had orders to despatch any prisoner who should attempt to escape. The particulars of their march, their arrival at Stapleton, and treatment at that place, will be mentioned hereafter.

On the first of July, two hundred more were ordered from on board the Hector, to march and share with us the miseries of Dartmoor. They were landed as usual, and marched under a strong guard to that mountain of wretchedness, and after passing through the usual forms at their arrival, were received into prison No. 4, and might justly have exclaimed, in the language of an eminent poet, “Hail, horrors! hail, thou profoundest hell! receive thy new possessor.” For every one ordered to this prison, counted himself lost.

On the third of July, another draft of prisoners, consisting of about two hundred and fifty, were taken from the Hector, and sent to Stapleton, under the usual guard, allowance, and restrictions.

The fourth of July, the birth-day of our nation, had now arrived. The American prisoners, feeling that fire of patriotism, and that just pride and honor, which fills the bosom of every American, when that great day of jubilee arrives, roused all their drooping spirits, and prepared to celebrate it in a manner becoming their situation. We had by some means obtained two American standards; and being upward of six hundred in number, we divided into two columns, and displayed our flags at each end of the prison. Of the propriety of the proceedings, I leave the reader to judge. We were, however, resolved to defend them till the last moment: but Captain Cotgrave, either from a determination to depress our spirits as much as possible, that we might the more readily be induced to enter the service of the king, or that an enemy’s flag should not be hoisted in their country, ordered the turnkeys to enter the prison-yard, and take the colors from us. We returned him an answer, that the day was the birth-day of freedom, and the anniversary of our nation; and that he would confer on us a particular favor, if he would permit us to enjoy it with a decorum and propriety suited to our situation as prisoners of war. We added this arrogant condition, that if he should persist in attempting to take that flag which we should ever respect, in whatever country we were, he must abide by the consequences. Captain Cotgrave, being irritated at this haughty and independent language, ordered the guard into the prison-yard to take the standards from us. An obstinate resistance was made. After some time spent in fighting for the flags, the guard obtained one: the prisoners bore off the other in triumph, and secured it. The remainder of the day was spent in harmony and quietness. At evening, when the guards came as usual to turn us into the prison, a dispute arose upon the pitiful revenge sought for in depriving the prisoners of their flag. This soon grew into an affray; the guards fired upon the prisoners, and wounded two, which ended the affray.

From the disturbance on the evening of the fourth, nothing remarkable took place, the prisoners being generally tolerable quiet and peaceable till the tenth, when a dispute arose between the French and American prisoners in the yard of No. 4; the dispute was quite warm, and pervaded nearly all the prisoners of both nations, each of whom espoused the cause of his fellow-prisoner. Things were not pushed to extremities this evening, the hour to turn in prevented their further progress; but animosities had not subsided. At this time the French prisoners occupied the two upper stories of prison No. 4; they consisted of about nine hundred outcasts from the other prisons, as we had occasion to mention before. They had during the night, with malice prepense, concerted a plan to massacre the Americans. With this design, they had provided themselves with knives, clubs, stones, staves, and every kind of weapon they could obtain.

Thus armed, they had managed to be in the yard first in the morning, and arrayed themselves to give battle as soon as a sufficient number of Americans should come out. Accordingly, when about one hundred and twenty had entered the yard, this group of naked malignity began the attack with desperate fierceness; the Americans, unsuspicious of an attack, were of course unarmed, and at first could make no resistance; but after recovering from the surprise which so sudden an attack had created, they made an attempt to rally; but the Frenchmen cutting off their retreat into the prison and preventing those within from joining or rendering any assistance, soon caused the Americans to fall a prey to their superior number. Before the guards could interfere to prevent the further proceedings, the Americans were mostly stabbed or knocked down with heavy stones, and mangled in a most shocking manner. What would have been the issue, had not the guards entered, and by charging on both parties put a stop to the battle, is difficult to tell. On examining the wounded, (fortunately none were killed,) it appeared that about twenty on both sides were badly, and many others slightly wounded. The former were taken to the hospital, and though apparently dangerous, in a short time all recovered. Captain Cotgrave immediately informed the Board of Transport of this unhappy event; but painted it in such dark colors on the side of the Americans, that the Board gave answer, that the Americans were totally different from all other men, and unfit to live in any society. “If the household be devils, what is the master of the house?” Did not the Americans descend from England?

The yard of No. 4 was ordered to be divided, which was done by a wall fifteen feet high, which cut off all communication with the Americans, and their late meager associates. This act, though it seemed to have been done to injure the Americans, certainly created no regret; for instead of doing them an injury, it was a great relief to be disencumbered of that outcast tribe.

A spark of momentary joy may burst through the darkest clouds of grief, and hope for a moment make us forget our miseries. On the twenty-ninth of this month, Captain Cotgrave received orders to remove one hundred and twenty Americans from this prison to Chatham, which was to be the complement of a cartel ship then lying at that place; this embraced the greater part of the prisoners captured before January, 1813. There remained of those captured before and after that time, 1200 at Chatham, 400 at Stapleton, and a few less than 500 at Dartmoor, some on board the prison ships, and a number of officers on parole at Ashburton. The greater part of these had been delivered up from ships of war.

At the close of this month, forty-five were found to have entered the service of the enemy, and fifteen had died at this place, seven or eight at Chatham, and not one at Stapleton.

At the commencement of August, we found ourselves limited and very much straitened in our regulations. We were not permitted to go out of the yard. A more alarming scene of distress than any we had before experienced, now presented itself before us, and death seemed to be the inevitable lot of every man.

The King of Terrors daily reached forth his inexorable hand, and removed the sufferer from the pale of this clay tenement; for the small-pox had got among the prisoners, and its ravages were so alarming, that every prisoner expected each day would be his last; for numbers died daily.

The prisoners who remained able, collected themselves together, and formed a committee of correspondence, who, by bribing the guards, conveyed letters daily to Mr. Beasley; particularly describing their situation, that they were almost naked, and defrauded by the Contractor of half their rations, which before were but one-third enough. That the small-pox had got among them, and numbers died daily—that they were covered with animalcula, and unless he could do something for their relief, they must all perish together.

To these complaints he paid no kind of attention, neither came to see whether they were true or false, nor sent any answer either written or verbal.

The reader can easily figure to himself what must have been our feelings, when five hundred men, closely confined in one apartment, with that mortal epidemic among them without any assistance, or possibility of escape.

The evil must lie somewhere; we were in doubt whether to believe it was the will of the general government, of the people at large of this country, or whether it was not entirely the fault of our agent, in not seeing that all the officers in whose immediate care we were, acted the honest part in the performance of those duties, which both this government and that of the United States had intrusted to them. It was not a general thing, and the evil was near at hand. The prisoners at Halifax fared well; they did not, nor could not, complain; prisoners in other places in England were tolerably well provided for.

After so many fruitless applications to our agent, we despaired of any relief from that quarter, and then made application to Captain Cotgrave, and demanded of him, what provisions the government of England made for prisoners of war, when neglected by their own government. He gave us every opportunity to search out the fault, by producing the following printed rules and regulations, made by the Transport Board.

The honorable Transport Board have made arrangements with certain agents or contractors, to supply all prisoners of war, as follows:

Each prisoner to receive per day, for five days in the week, one and a half pounds of coarse brown bread; one-half pound of beef, including the bone; one-third of an ounce of barley; the same quantity of salt; one-third of an ounce of onions; and one pound of turnips. The residue of the week, the usual allowance of bread; one pound of pickled fish, and just a sufficient quantity of coals to cook the same. These to be served out daily by the contractors.

We watched the contractor, and found he weighed all the articles at once, neat weight; and saw him scrimp the weight, to fill his pocket out of the prisoners’ bellies.

On beef days, the whole is thrown into a large copper; when it is sufficiently boiled, the bone is taken out, and each mess, consisting of six, receives twenty-seven ounces of beef, and one gallon and one pint of soup.

On the fish days, every mess boiled their potatoes and fish in a net made of rope-yarn, that they might have it separately to themselves; after it was boiled, it was taken up in wooden buckets, with which each mess were provided; and each prisoner, being also furnished with a wooden spoon, sets round the bucket, on the wet floor, and makes a fierce attack.

After making these, and some other demands, which we considered ourselves entitled to, most of which were immediately granted, but some delayed, as we shall note hereafter, our sufferings were somewhat relieved.

Could not these have been removed by our agent long before? We find but few men so honest that they do not need looking to sometimes by those who are interested in their honesty. These contractors would have been as honest as many other men, with sharp looking after. Was it not, then, the duty of Mr. Beasley to see that the prisoners had what the government of England allowed them? If it was not, what was his duty? Was he sent there, as the log of wood in the fable was sent by Jupiter into the pond, to be god for the frogs?

We found, by the printed regulations delivered us by Capt. Cotgrave, the government allowed each prisoner a hammock, one blanket, one horse-rug, and a bed, containing four pounds of flocks; these articles too were to serve us two years. By the same regulations, the prisoners were to receive for clothing, every eighteen months, one yellow round-about jacket, one pair of pantaloons, and a waistcoat of the same materials, as the government of England allow for their soldiers; and one pair of shoes and one shirt, every nine months. The shirt, though coarse, was a change which we had not had for a long time before. All these we demanded and received; we also received a woollen cap, which was to serve us eighteen months.

I cannot leave this subject without some little description of several of the articles of clothing. I will begin with the cap, and take them in their natural order, from head to foot.

The cap was woollen, about an inch thick, and seemed to have been spun in a rope-walk, but much coarser than common rope-yarn. The jacket was not large enough to meet around the smallest of us, although reduced to mere skeletons by such continued fasting; the sleeves came about half way down the arm, and the hand stuck out like a spade; the waistcoat was short—it would not meet before, nor down to the pantaloons—thus leaving a space between of three or four inches; the pantaloons, which were as tight as our skin itself, came down to the middle of the shin. The shoes, which was the pedestal for all the ornaments above, were made of list, interwoven and fastened to pieces of wood an inch and a half thick. The figure we made in this dress was no common one.

“Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici?”—Hor. A. P.

“My friends, were you admitted to see this sight, could you keep from laughing?” When you see us tackled, and put upon runners—skeletons as we were.

By the regulations handed us, we also found that the Board allowed a sweeper to every hundred men, to sweep and keep clean the prison, who was to be taken from among the prisoners, and allowed by the government three pence per day; and one out of every two hundred was allowed four pence halfpenny a day for cooking. In like manner, a barber had three pence; and the nurses in the hospital, six pence a day. All these offices were occupied by Frenchmen, as was also the employments in the mechanic arts at six pence per day.

During this month great numbers died of the small-pox, and some of other diseases. Several entered the king’s service. Suspicions had arisen, that several taken in arms against Great Britain, were British subjects; they were consequently taken out, and charged with having committed high treason. That they were taken in arms against Great Britain, was not denied; but that they were her subjects, which was the most essential part of the charge, could not be proved; they were consequently acquitted, and remanded to prison.

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

September commenced, and we remained in the situation just described. The prisoners continued very sickly.

Men, otherwise commonly honest, when reduced to extreme necessity, naturally resort to the commission of crimes. It is a maxim strikingly true, that “hunger will break through a stone wall;” and it is equally true, that it will break through all moral obligation. Honesty and integrity are but mere chimeras in dire necessity. Such was our situation, that it resembled more a state of nature than a civilized society. Petty larcenies were daily committed among the prisoners; brothers and the most intimate friends stealing from each other. To provide a remedy against this evil, we appointed a legislative body, to form a code of laws for the punishment of all such misdemeanors. A tribunal was also formed to try and convict all criminals according to law and evidence. Many were tried, found guilty, and sentenced to receive twenty-four lashes equally as severe as is given at the gangway of a man-of-war ship.

To show the force of habit, though it is a vicious one, we will give the reader a striking example. Some of the prisoners were so attached to chewing tobacco, that they sold all their day’s allowance of beef to the French at the gate, to purchase one chew. They sometimes sold this allowance to buy soap enough to wash one shirt, but this was only enduring one evil to remedy a worse.

By letters received from our fellow-prisoners on board the Crowned Prince, and the Nassau, prison ships at Chatham, we received information that the Americans were distributed among the French prisoners on board the several different ships at that place, and very severely used; that they had vainly addressed Mr. Beasley, and that several had died and numbers entered the British service.

By letters received from Stapleton, we were informed of the particulars of their march from Plymouth, which we promised to give the reader in a former part of this work. The reader will remember, that at the commencement of their journey, they were allowed a shilling a day for traveling expenses, and on their way, they had to pay three pence a night to lodge in a barn, or some public building, on straw. As they were allowed a shilling only, this took one-quarter of the whole. With much ado they reached Stapleton; they found the prison at that place well constructed for the convenience of the prisoners, within a short distance of the city of Bristol; which is the third city in England, and situated in Somersetshire, at the conflux of the river Avon, with the small stream of the Froom, about ten miles from the mouth of the Severn; these, and several other small tributary streams, running through a fertile country, bring into market all kinds of provisions and fruits common to the country, which are sold at a much cheaper rate than at most other places in the kingdom. From these sources, the market at Stapleton, which is kept every day at the prison, is supplied with all kinds of market produce. On their arrival they found five thousand French prisoners. There are three prisons enclosed and garrisoned in the same manner as those at Dartmoor; they were distributed among the French prisoners in the different prisons. They had also written to Mr. Beasley several times, and informed him, that their situation was bad, although much better than that at Dartmoor, and required his attention. But he was determined to take no notice. They therefore concluded, that no arrangement was to be made for their exchange, or that any assistance was to be offered from the government of the United States, made necessity an excuse for entering the service of the enemy of their country; which many did at that place.

How far this is a crime, when we consider the quo animo? I shall take this opportunity to show what is the custom of nations, and what appears to be the law of nature. It is said, “If a person be under circumstances of actual force and constraint, through a well-grounded apprehension of injury to his life or person, this fear, or compulsion, will excuse his even joining with either rebels or enemies in the kingdom, provided he leaves them whenever he hath a safe opportunity.”

Now to return to Dartmoor. At a time when the prisoners had despaired of any relief, and began to reconcile themselves to their hard fate, they were very agreeably surprised to hear that Mr. Reuben G. Beasley had condescended to visit them, and then waited at the gate for admittance. The idea, that their deliverer had come, diffused a general joy through the whole prison, and “lighted up a smile in the aspect of woe.” The soldiers and guards were ordered into the prison, and turned out every man, both sick and well; overhauled the hammocks, swept the prison, and opened the window-shutters: all filth was removed and every thing made clean, for the first time since our arrival. The guards were then stationed at the door, to prevent any prisoner from going in, to have any communication with the agent: we were told, that no man could speak to him, or have any communication with him whatever. At three o’clock, the entrance of Mr. Beasley was announced by the turnkeys. We arranged ourselves in the yard, in anxious expectation of the glad tidings he might bring. He appeared, attended with his clerks, the clerks of the prison, and a very numerous train of soldiers. As he entered the yard of the prison, we presented a frightful appearance, in our yellow uniform, wooden shod, and meager, lantern-jaws. He felt the sight, and seemed much surprised at the group. We stood in silent expectation; he moved along to the prison; but how were our feelings damped at this moment! when we expected from him the language of consolation and relief, he only uttered, in a careless tone to his clerks, “that he did not think that the number had been so great!”

He entered, and cast his eyes around the cold wet walls of the prison, and seemed to say, with a shrug of his shoulders, “I am glad that it is not I that is to live here.” When he returned, we were determined to have some conversation with him. We therefore collected round him, demanded what arrangements were made for our relief, whether we must expect to remain in our present condition? Telling him, that if we must, that we could not long survive; and presenting him with a list of names of those who had already entered the king’s service; and telling him all the particulars of our distress. He then opened his mouth, and said, he had no power to do any thing, nor any funds to do with; but he would do his endeavor. We asked him the cause of so great a difference in the treatment of the prisoners here and at Halifax? There they had all the necessaries and conveniences of life; here we had none of them. We asked him to whom we should apply for relief in future? We told him we had been to great expense, heretofore, and much trouble, in conveying letters to him, while he had not thought fit to answer. He said the exchange of prisoners was stopped for the present year, and that we could not expect to have our condition altered. With these unwelcome observations, he went immediately out of the gates, and left us to all the wretchedness of despair.

We returned into the prison, lamenting our fate. Some cursed the day they were born; some, the day of their captivity; some attributed all their sufferings to the inattention of the Agent, and others, to the government of the United States. We retired to our hammocks, and gave vent to our feelings in sighs and tears.

The thought that we must forego all the endearments of life, and perish together, in a foreign country, among our enemies, was too much for our feelings to bear. The groans of the disconsolate and sick filled the whole prison. Our Agent not empowered to act, and without funds! We had now only to look to heaven, whose will it was to bring us to this state, and through whose mercy alone we could hope to find relief.

The winter was fast approaching, and the cold upon this mountain was very severe. The small-pox still continued, and the measles had got among us, and great numbers were sick with both diseases. The next day, conceiving they had no other alternative, a great number entered the British service; rather hazarding the chance of escape, and censure of their country, than to trust life to the perils of this prison.

Although I am a little before some part of my story, I must not forget to mention, that about the middle of September, another draft was taken from the Hector, now at Hamoaze, near Plymouth; among which were the crew of the United States’ brig Argus, taken by the Pelican. One Robinson, who had belonged to the Argus, had declared, that several of the crew of that vessel were British subjects. And immediately seventeen, whom he pointed out, were taken and conveyed on board the receiving ship, St. Salvador, and put into close confinement, there to await their trial and execution, should they be found guilty. The boatswain, and a number of others, wounded in the action, were conveyed to the hospital, in Mill-prison at Plymouth.

At the end of this month a great number had died, and numbers down with all complaints, prevalent in crowded camps or prisons. The weather much like the month before.

By letters, received the tenth of October, from Chatham and Stapleton, we were informed, that Mr. Beasley had visited them, and his conduct and language at those places were the same as at this depot. By the letters from Chatham, we had an account of eighteen making their escape, by cutting a hole through the side of the Crown Prince, at that place; that afterwards the guard were increased and more vigilant.

On the sixteenth, Capt. Cotgrave gave orders, by directions of the Transport Board, to have all these outcast Frenchmen in No. 4 collected. This took four hundred and thirty-six from the prison, and much relieved us.

Before I proceed with the remainder of my story, I cannot but here observe the strange effect habit and corruption have in changing our common nature. They had been many of them ten years in this prison in a state of perfect nudity, and had been so for many years; had slept upon the bare stone-floor without covering for many years, till the flesh had acquired a sort of hardness, like the stones themselves.

This was the effect of gambling, which had acquired a greater power over them than hunger or nakedness. Whenever they were supplied with clothing, they never put them on, but turned to gambling, till they had lost the whole. They had often been supplied by their countrymen in the other prisons, with hammocks, beds, and clothing: but they no sooner got possession of them, than they went to the grating of the other prisons, and sold them, and gambled the whole away. It is difficult for the mind to conceive, how human beings could be possessed of fewer virtues or more vices; or how they could any further change their common nature to a bestial one without the assistance of a Supreme Being. It is a remarkable fact, that these men (if they yet deserve the name) were more healthy, though stark naked winter and summer for ten years, than any prisoners at this depot; though to the number of nine thousand.

The French prisoners never received any assistance from the French government, but depended entirely on the British. Though I cannot praise the general acts of the latter government, nor am I disposed to flatter; yet they did a humane act which certainly deserves credit. They took these four hundred and thirty-six Frenchmen out of this prison, clothed them well, and put them on board a prison-ship at Plymouth, separate from all other men, except their guards, who carefully watched them, and prevented them from disposing of their clothes, and kept them decent during the remainder of their captivity.

In the six prisons, occupied by the French prisoners, is carried on almost every branch of the mechanic arts. They resemble little towns, being mostly soldiers; every man has his separate occupation; his work-shop, his store-house, his coffee-house, his eating-house, &c., &c.; he is employed in some business or other.

There are many gentlemen of large fortunes here, who having broke their parole, were committed to close confinement. These were able to support themselves in a genteel manner; though they were prisoners, they drew upon their bankers in other parts of Europe.

They manufactured shoes, hats, hair and bone-work. They likewise, at one time, carried on a very lucrative branch of manufactory. They forged notes on the Bank of England, to the amount of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling; and made so perfect an imitation, that the cashier could not discover the forgery; and very much doubted the possibility of such imitation.

They also carried on the coining of silver, to a very considerable advantage; they had men constantly employed outside of the yard, to collect all the Spanish dollars they could, and bring into prison. Out of every dollar they made eight smooth English shillings; equally as heavy, and passed as well as any in the kingdom.

Whether they are constituted by nature to endure hardships, or so long confinement has got them wonted to live in prisons, I will not venture to say; but they really seem easy under it, live well, and make money to lay up.

They drink, sing and dance, talk of their women in the day-time, and, like Horace, dream of them at night; but I have not heard of any issue by this visionary connexion. But the Americans have not that careless volatility, like the cockle in the fable, to sing and dance when their house is on fire over them.

When any one has committed a crime, or becomes a nuisance among them, he is condemned, and sent to No. 4, to remain during his captivity; so the Americans must dwell among the damned.

On the twenty-eighth, a large corps of French prisoners, taken at the battle near St. Sebastian, in Spain, arrived at this depot, and took their abode among the other Frenchmen. At this time, a very mortal distemper prevailed among the French prisoners, that carried off eight or ten every day.

When any one dies in the hospital, his body is removed to the dead-house, a place made for that purpose; after being stripped of his clothes, shirt and all, (which go to the government, or the nurse of the deceased,) the body is then opened, to learn the nature of the disease; it is afterwards, quite naked, put into a coarse shell, made of rough pine boards, and remains in the dead-house for several days, till a number is collected in the same manner: when a sufficient number is heaped together to call their attention, a large hole is dug back of the prison, and all thrown in together, without form or ceremony.

The hospital department consists of a surgeon, two assistants, and as many male nurses as are necessary. Every morning, at nine o’clock, orders are given, by the ringing of bells, that every prisoner, wanting relief or medical aid, must repair to the hospital to be examined, and receive prescriptions; he then returns to the prison, where he remains till carried in again.

The sickness among the Americans somewhat abated the latter end of this month. Many entered the king’s service. As the recruiting officers receive a premium on every soldier they enlist for his majesty, they used every inducement in their power. An officer belonging to a Dutch regiment, thought it a good opportunity to mock de gildt, entered the yard, and began to solicit men to enlist into the regiments to go against the United States; but the Americans took this the greatest insult, that such a booby should think of getting them to fight against their country; they soon hustled Mynheer out of the yard, and frustrated all his hopes of gain.

The majority of the prisoners used every means in their power to prevent our countrymen from entering the enemy’s service. We often, on discovering the intention of any one to enlist into their service, fastened him up to the grating and flogged him severely, and threatened to despatch them secretly if they did not desist; but attempts were vain; they justified themselves on the plea of self-preservation; that there was a possibility of escaping and saving their lives; and if detected by their country, their death was distant, but here it was speedy and certain.

Capt. Cotgrave, perceiving the great exertions that were made to prevent any entering his majesty’s service, adopted a plan to encourage it. When any one was known to be disposed that way, he would send him a line, and invite him to come to the guard-house, where the other prisoners could have no communication with him: here he was kept till a number sufficient for a draft was collected, then sent to Plymouth, and put on board a receiving ship, and received their bounty. About one draft a month commonly took place.

November.—The weather is much similar to that of the State of New York at the same season; rain, snow, and hail, almost every day; the prisoners without stockings, and many had been so unthoughtful of the future as to sell their jackets to buy food; and the whole dress allowed them was no more than sufficient in the most clement season, the prisons being always damp, and the weather very rainy. We were allowed no fuel; some had also sold their hammocks, blankets, and beds, to the French. These thoughtless wretches were now obliged to sleep, or rather lie, upon the stones the whole night, and when there happened a fine day, which was seldom, it was with the greatest difficulty the guards could rouse them from this stupor, and get them into the yard. We dreaded the winter.

We received letters from our fellow-prisoners at other prisons, informing us that they had applied to Mr. Beasley, and advising us to do the same, which we had already done; they wished to be informed of our situation; this was done in poetry.

The time had now expired for relieving the present guard; this being done, its place was supplied by a Scotch regiment. Sympathy glowed in the minds of these gallant fellows; no nobler act has nature done than form the heart that feels for others’ woes. They felt for ours, and though enemies, at the peril of life relieved them; it was an act that superior beings might behold with admiration. Touched with this tie of nature, when ordered to bring out every prisoner into the yard, sick or naked, they often pitied him, gave him some relief, and left him behind; though ordered to cut him down or run him through, if he offered to remain.

They supplied us with late papers, and gave us all the account they could of the affairs in America. They cheered us with the agreeable account of the Essex, and her success in the South Seas: we had friends that pitied us, though they could not greatly relieve us.

About this time a few prisoners from Plymouth, lately captured, and lately from the States, arrived at this depot.

The news they bring of the success of the American arms, animates every soul, and for a moment we forgot our troubles. By them the account of the Boxer and Enterprise, the complete victory of Commodore Perry on Lake Erie is given us, but no hope of exchange or prospect of peace. No alteration in our treatment by government; the prisoners not permitted out of yard No. 4. The French go any where through the several prisons; go to market, but the Americans not permitted to. The government grew more strict in their enlistments; they would receive none but regularly bred sailors, and no invalids.

At the latter end of this month a great number of prisoners, taken under the American flag, claimed a release from confinement, and showed that they owed their allegiance by birth to powers in alliance with Great Britain. To Holland, Sweden, and other places, and are released on account of their neutrality.

Weather very cold all the month. The prisoners without shoes or clothes, obliged to keep their hammock. Fewer deaths than the month before. Yard covered with snow.

December.—Cold increasing. Prisoners in despair. Capt. Cotgrave ordered the prisoners to turn out every morning at the hour of nine, and stand in the yard till the guards counted them; this generally took more than an hour. Many of the prisoners were without stockings, and some without shoes, and many without jackets. They cut up their blankets to wrap up their feet and legs, that they might be able to endure the cold and snow while they were going through this ceremony. We complained to the captain of this practice, and told him it was too severe for the prisoners to endure; he said it was his orders, and as agent he must obey them. We reminded him of several instances that must shock the heart of every feeling man, that he himself was knowing to the day before. Several of these naked men, chilled, and benumbed with cold, and being half starved, fell down lifeless in his presence, and in presence of the guards and turnkeys. This was a cruelty which exceeded murder in any shape whatever; to expose the naked helpless prisoner to perish in the pitiless blast of this bleak mountain, was an act that made our hearts recoil with horror.

We remonstrated with the infamous author, but all our supplications and remonstrances were in vain; the wretch was inexorable; his feelings had become callous by continuing so long among the sufferings of the French prisoners. After these men fell down in the yard, they were taken up and carried to the hospital, and with some difficulty were restored to life again; they were then immediately sent back to prison, there to lie on the stone floor without bed or covering.

At this treatment I presume the reader will not so much wonder that so many died, as he will that any could live at all.

The name of Isaac Cotgrave, agent at Dartmoor, of cruel memory, will ever be engraven, in odious characters, on the mind of every American who witnessed his unparalleled cruelty.

On the 22d of this month the iron sceptre was wrested from his hand, and placed beyond his reach. A new agent, Capt. Thos. G. Shortland, at this time superseded Cotgrave. Shortland was a man whose feelings had not yet grown callous by being familiarized with human misery, and at his first arrival he was shocked at the scenes of our misery, which presented themselves in every shape before him; touched with compassion, he could not continue the cruel practice of counting over the prisoners every morning in the yard. He countermanded the order which his predecessor pretended to have been commanded to put in force. He declared to us that he would do all in his power to procure us some relief from his government; that he himself would do all he could in his situation as agent, to assist us; he very politely and kindly offered to forward to Mr. Beasley, or to the Congress of the United States, any communication or petition which might procure us any relief. He stated in feeling terms to the Board of Transport the real condition of the American prisoners. He ordered the doctors’ assistants to visit the persons daily, and to remove to the hospital all the sick who had before been refused admittance. He granted permission for two of the prisoners to attend the market each day, and purchase such little necessary articles as they were able, such as soap, potatoes, tobacco, &c.

These relaxations in the morning of his power seemed to promise a bright day; but the noon began to grow a little obscure, and, we are sorry to say, at last went down in blood, and left obscure the bright traits of the morning.

The weather was incredibly cold upon this mountain; the moor, as far as the eye could extend, was covered with frost and snow; the prison walls, by being continually damp, had become like solid ice, and the prisoners obliged to keep their hammocks, for being allowed no fire, had no other means to keep themselves warm.

The rigor of treatment seemed somewhat relaxed; for our friendly officers and Scotch guards gave us as much relief and consolation as their station would permit, and we endeavored to cultivate their friendship.

According to Capt. Shortland’s advice, and our own necessities, we again made application to Mr. Beasley. In this letter we informed him that we were fully of opinion that the United States would sanction any reasonable overtures he should make to prevent her citizens from starving or perishing for want in a foreign prison; that his being agent for the United States was sufficient power, and he had a right to pledge the credit of the United States, which was amply sufficient to procure any sum requisite for our relief. We farther stated, in the most unequivocal terms, that unless some relief was given us soon, that the prisoners had come to a unanimous and final determination to offer our services en masse to the British government, and at the same time transmit to the United States a copy of all letters from us to him, and set forth to Congress all our reasons for so doing, which would most undoubtedly cast all the blame on him.

This month ended with increased cold, and snow falling daily. The prisoners did not go out of their hammocks, only at dinner, which was the only meal they had.

January, 1814.—The year commences with as cold weather as we ever experienced in the city of New York; the buckets in the prison, in the short space of four hours, froze ten or twelve quarts to a solid, and the prisoners must inevitably have frozen, were not the hammocks placed so near together as to communicate the animal heat from one man to another.

The running stream that supplied the prison froze solid, and the weather was allowed to be colder than it had been for fifty years before.

On the 1st the snow was two feet on the level, and began to snow again; the cold somewhat abated, and it continued snowing the greater part of the time till the nineteenth; it had now got to be four feet on the level, and the drifts in the yards as high as the prison walls (fifteen feet), the water all frozen, and the prisoners obliged to eat snow for drink. The guards were all obliged to leave the walls and retire to the guard-house; no sentry on duty except in the barracks.

At midnight; this dreary night, eight prisoners, thinking to take advantage of the night to make their escape, as no sentries were in sight, formed a ladder, and with it ascended and descended the first wall directly against the guard-house, and in ascending the second, the soldiers in the guard-house discovered them, and apprehended seven; the eighth got quite over the wall, and made his escape. These seven were taken to the guard-house and there put into the black-hole, which is the place for prisoners that attempt to make their escape: the weather extremely cold, was likely to prove their last. But the fifth day they were removed to the cachot, and remained on two-thirds allowance, sleeping on straw for ten days. The prisoners, soldiers, and officers, were now furnished with salt provisions, which are always kept at the prison against any emergency of this kind. Every man upon the mountain was now much alarmed, as only ten days’ stock of provision was in reserve on the mountain, and there were now upwards of nine thousand French and American prisoners, besides fifteen hundred soldiers and officers, doctors, and a numerous train of turnkeys.

LINES,

BY AN AMERICAN PRISONER.

On the 14th day of January,

This night ordained by Fate,

For eight poor Yankee sailors

To try for their escape.

Seven of them detected were,

And in the guard-house lay;

The eighth resolved on liberty,

By chance he got away.

The night, being dark and dreary,

And he had far to go,

So this poor Yankee sailor

Got hobbled in the snow.

Discovered by his enemies,

That forced him back again,

Within the walls of Dartmoor,

Oppressed with cold and pain.

Shortland, bred a seaman,

In Neptune’s school was taught;

His heart compressed with pity,

Methinks I read his thought—

Saying, go into the guard-house,

And set those eight men free,

I’ll show the sons of liberty

There’s honor still in me.

The back house was at some distance, and the snow drifted in from ten to fifteen feet deep; this formed an impassable barrier; but Capt. Shortland, at the head of two hundred French prisoners, all the horse of the garrison, and clerks, turnkeys, &c., after working one whole day, shovelled a passage sufficient for wagons to pass. For should the weather continue as cold as it then was, all communication between that place and Plymouth, whence the provisions were brought, being totally stopped by the great depth of snow, they were in danger of starving. On the twenty-fifth the weather began to moderate and the snow began to dissolve.

The eighth man, who made his escape, had wandered over the moor, through the deep snow, till by chance he came to a single hut on the moor; the peasants suspected him to be a prisoner, as no person could travel in such tedious weather, and after examining him some time, he confessed he had made his escape from prison. They brought him back, and he received the same sentence as his unsuccessful companions. During his absence, all the officers and prisoners were much concerned at the miserable fate they were confident he must have shared, as it was impossible for him long to live, for if he survived the storm, he must starve in a few days: but it seemed he had reached the hut on the second day, without being frozen in any part. The officers and guards considering his attempt so bold and fearless of death, and showed such a noble longing for liberty, were really sorry to see him brought back, and declared that a man so dauntless as to dare such perils, deserved his liberty, and a reward; and had it been in their power he would have been released.

Here I must beg leave, though I fear the repetition of our distress may tire the reader, to appeal to the feeling of my fellow-citizens, at this time at ease beyond the great Atlantic: what would you have done, could you have seen your fellow-citizens at Dartmoor, the coldest winter there has been for half a century, without fire or light, during the night, without stockings, and many without shoes, and nearly naked, half starved, buried in snow, upon the top of an uninhabited and uncultivated mountain, the camp distemper among them, and overrun with vermin; great numbers dying, and death grimly threatening every man?

Say, would you not have pitied and flew to their relief, and left the gay circle of your amusement?

But few entered the service of the enemy this month; the weather being so very cold, they dreaded the removal to Plymouth.

February, 1814.—The weather was more moderate, and snow dissolving very fast.

We received a letter from Mr. Beasley, for the first time since our confinement, which had continued ever since April, 1813. This is the first scrap in writing any prisoner in England had ever received from him. It reads as follows:—“Fellow-citizens, I am authorized by the government of the United States to allow you one penny halfpenny per day, for the purpose of procuring you tobacco and soap, which will commence being paid from the first day of January, and I earnestly hope it will tend towards a great relief in your present circumstances. I likewise would advise you to appoint a committee, by which means you can convey to me any intelligence through the Board of Transport.” Immediately after the reception of this letter, we formed a committee of six, five besides myself, who were to see that every man had his money, and gave a receipt to Capt. Shortland, who was authorized by Mr. Beasley to pay it.

In conformity to these arrangements, we received, on the 5th of February, three halfpence sterling per day (less than three cents). This money was to be paid every thirty-two days: as one month had passed from the time it was to commence, we received the payment for all that time. The day’s allowance of cash would purchase two pounds of potatoes, or three chews of tobacco, which latter was five shillings and six-pence sterling all over England. We returned to Mr. Beasley a letter, acknowledging the receipt of the money, and stated the great alteration this little attention had made in the prisoners; every man was animated beyond description to find himself again acknowledged by the United States; that before that time they concluded that during the twelve months they had been immured in prisons, so far from their country, that they were entirely forgotten by her, and that she did not any more remember she had such sons as those at Dartmoor. The gloom that had so long clouded their countenances now began a little to disappear, and the prospect a little brightened, and we had hopes of life; but still our nakedness was grievous to bear. In a letter of thanks to our government, through the medium of Mr. Beasley, we stated every particular of our situation, our past and our present sufferings. We stated to him that it could not be possible that the Congress of the United States had allowed that small sum for those few articles, and had not made any provision for clothing, which ought to have occupied their first attention, for without clothes we did not need soap. We must, therefore, conclude this sum was allowed by himself out of the United States funds, and that we were extremely grateful for it; that the United States, were they acquainted with all the particulars of our situation, would make immediately all requisite arrangements for clothing, which his Honor Mr. Beasley must be well satisfied we were much in need of. After this correspondence with Mr. Beasley, we formed resolutions to expel all gambling, and were fully confident that some greater arrangement would be made for us.

Before this time seventy-five had entered the British service out of nine hundred Americans at this depot; but now not a man mentioned such a thing; he could not be persuaded to do it. This shows how much effect so little attention of Mr. Beasley had upon the prisoners. We, on the 22d of this month, petitioned to have the black prisoners separated from the white, for it was impossible to prevent these fellows from stealing, although they were seized up and flogged almost every day. Our petition was granted, and we greatly relieved, and the blacks, ninety in number, occupied the upper stories.

The weather greatly moderated, but vast quantities of rain fell. The British government made an order to release all prisoners belonging to the King of Prussia, taken under the flag of the United States. A few days after they issued a general order, that all prisoners belonging to any nation with whom she was in alliance, under whatever flag they were taken, should be released. This order released many Americans, who were acquainted with different languages, and could make a plausible story: the Yankees were citizens of all nations whose language they knew.

At the close of this month, we received letters from our countrymen on board the prison-ships at Chatham, and likewise those at Stapleton, informing us that they had received the same allowance of three halfpence per day at both places, at the same time that we received it. They also sent a copy of a letter of Mr. Beasley, which is the same as the one already mentioned. They also mentioned that they had had a very severe winter, but it was not as severe there as at this place. The prisoners at Chatham, among whom were great numbers that had been released from the British service during the winter, had received their wages and prize money; which, as is usual with a generous-hearted sailor, they distributed for the good of the whole. At the depot at Stapleton, the American prisoners were distributed among the French, who, in many instances, were very kind.

On the last day of this month, by papers conveyed to us by our friendly Scotch guards, we found an account of Captain Porter’s taking two large South-Seamen, mounting 16 guns, and upwards of fifty men each. He says they surrendered without firing a gun; that they were taken by the boats of the Essex, and speaks rather slightly of the courage of the British on those occasions.

In March the weather began to be mild; the snow was now mostly gone; the prisoners could remain in the yard the greater part of the day, and their spirits were much revived at the expectation of receiving their penny halfpenny per day in a lump; but this was prolonged, and the prisoners began to despond, as they had received no information from Mr. Beasley since the second of last month; but on the fifteenth orders were issued to pay it, and glad enough were we, for every man considered this little payment his sole support.

The gates were now left open, and we had all the privileges of the market which were allowed the French; we were allowed to go through all the prisons, visit the French officers, and gain all the information we could from London papers, which many of the French officers took daily. The French prisoners were much concerned at the fate of their country when they learned the success of the allies, as every prisoner had been in the army or navy of Bonaparte, and were much attached to the Emperor.

Having received no letters from Mr. Beasley, we now gave up all hope of exchange, gave ourselves up to our condition, and resigned our destiny into the hands of Heaven to deal with us as he pleased, during the long captivity which we believed we had to endure; for, seeing the English papers filled with accounts of the success of their arms in Europe, and every day declaring their full confidence of a complete conquest of America, we could not expect peace, though this boasting did not frighten us, for we knew the strength and valor of the American people.

On the 18th we established a coffee-house in our prison, as the French had in theirs, and sold coffee at a penny a pint; but you cannot think it very delicious when I inform you that it could not be bought under two and three pence per pound, and molasses seventy per hundred weight. At the same time some of the prisoners received money from home, and all established themselves in some kind of business. Some established themselves as tobacconists; others as potato merchants, butter merchants, and indeed almost all kinds of merchandise were carried on in our prison after we received our second payment: we had “free trade and sailors’ rights.” We could purchase any article of provision in the markets; coffee, sugar, molasses, any thing the country afforded. The gates being now opened, we traded with the French. We could buy potatoes at six-pence a score, butter at one and six-pence per pound; and as for meat, that was out of the question altogether. Every man began to use all the economy he could, which he perceived the French did. Some went to work for the French at making straw flats, at which they could earn one penny per day. Others were employed in making list shoes, some in the manufactory of hair bracelets, necklaces, &c.; while great numbers employed themselves in working the bones we got out of the beef, in imitation of the French, who were very ingenious, and would form the most admirable and beautiful ships, plank, mast, and rig them all of bone. The French, for their amusement, had regular plays in a theatrical form, with very elegant scenery, once a month. Hamlet’s ghost was an easy part to act, for they had only to show their natural visage, being mere shadows themselves. They had excellent music, and appropriate comic and tragic dresses. They also had schools for teaching the arts and sciences, dancing, fencing, and music, and each of these in great perfection. As numbers of them were daily receiving money from France, their prison was very rich. But No. 4, where the sons of liberty had lived so long on the vapor of a dungeon, when will the same be said of you? Perhaps some victim as unhappy as myself, when some ten years have rolled away, and the human mind, compelled by stern necessity to invent, and I myself have found my quietus behind the prison-walls, may tell a sorry story of splendid misery within your gloomy gates.

During the whole month of March the weather was quite mild, and the prisoners gained their health and strength greatly. On the 21st we detected the contractor cheating us in our rations, by giving scant weight. We immediately informed Capt. Shortland of the fraud, who examined into the fact, and had the cheating stopped, but gave the conduct of the contractor a very easy term, by saying it was a mistake.

Towards the close of this month many of the Americans had obtained some remnants of garments from the French, and mostly all the boys had got into the employ of the French officers as waiters. Many of these little victims of war were under thirteen—and there were many old men above the age of sixty imprisoned: both these classes it has been considered contrary to the custom of nations to imprison. What use could it be to sacrifice the aged or the child in a prison?

I had sailed for many years in the employment of merchants of England, and had ever had a most exalted idea of the humanity and generosity of that nation, but by woeful experience I found I had been deceived. Many of my readers may, perhaps, dispute the truth of what I have here asserted; but I appeal to thousands of my countrymen, who will testify the truth of what I have said, and thousands who have suffered with me will say, that the pen of Homer or Milton would fall short in describing the miseries of Dartmoor.

Though the weather was quite mild at the end of the month, yet, as many of the prisoners were almost naked, they suffered greatly for want of more clothing.

On the last day of this month we received a letter from Mr. Beasley, being the second ever received at this depot from him.

I shall commence the transactions of April by giving a copy of the letter which we received the day before.

Fellow-Citizens,—

In addition to the allowance of three halfpence per day, which has heretofore been allowed, I shall make remittance to Captain Shortland, to enable you to have coffee and sugar twice a week, that is, the days on which your rations consist of fish; my intention at first was to have the articles themselves sent to be distributed, but it being suggested to me by the committees at the other depots that the value in money would be more serviceable to the prisoners, I have determined to allow three-pence halfpenny per man, two days in the week, being the value of those articles, and I hope the committee will find means to ensure its being applied to the purpose intended.

Yours, &c.,

R. G. Beasley.

With the letter was accompanied an additional allowance, which augmented the sum to two pence halfpenny, and we now received the sum of six and eight pence on the eighth. This was to continue being paid monthly.

As it is natural to expect, this payment produced great spirits and animation among the prisoners, and was as welcome as a thousand pounds when we were free and had plenty. With this money the prisoners purchased many little necessary articles of clothing, such as shirts, shoes, trowsers, &c., which could be bought very cheap of the French, who always kept stores of second-hand clothing, which were obtained from the officers.

The weather was fine—for this place—and the prisoners healthy; and, having obtained some clothes, and anticipating the reception of more, began to be quite comfortable in their situation, when we compare it to the distress of that cold winter they had just passed through.

Our little salary seemed to command some respect from the turnkeys, soldier-officers, and subalterns, who were themselves as poor and meager as Romeo’s apothecary. It brought us many indulgences, such as full liberty of the markets, which before had been prohibited, and we compelled to purchase of the French at the gratings. This was a great benefit to us, for we could now trade with the country people much cheaper.

To regulate our rations, we were also allowed to appoint a committee of two, to attend at the store-house to see that the contractor gave us weight in those articles allowed by the Board.

The day after we received our payment, we received London papers containing an official account of the allies entering Paris, and the complete defeat and downfall of Bonaparte. This news was a sore affliction to the French prisoners, who were passionately attached to the Emperor, and not much less galling to the Americans; for now some boasting pettimaitres among the British officers would come into the yard, in the most taunting, vile manner, to sport with the feelings of the prisoners of both nations: “For,” said they, “we have conquered France, and have not the least doubt but we shall shortly completely reduce the United States to colonies of Great Britain, and your haughty President become a mendicant vagabond.” This insolence was too much for flesh and blood to bear. They declared they could have peace on any terms they wished, and, although we were yet prisoners of war, they considered us their subjects.

Such language to prisoners who could not resent it, showed that the authors of it could be nothing better than the vilest caitiffs, and could flow from nothing but the meanest of envy.

The French prisoners felt this conduct much more severe than we; for the conquest was already made, and they were obliged to look to a master whom they hated, to one who was the choice of their enemies, Louis XVIII.

Many gentlemen visited the prison to congratulate those unfortunate men on their being restored to liberty, and thought that as they had been many of them confined from five to eleven years, they would rejoice at the idea of liberty under any monarch. They presented the prisoners with the old national flag, and advised them to wear the white cockade; but they declared, in the presence of those gentlemen, that they would prefer staying in prison all their lifetime than to serve any other master, or become subject to any other king than Bonaparte, whom they loved. But the sequel will show how lasting their determinations were, and how like they were to their nation at large.

At this time to express their regret at the misfortune of their beloved emperor, and their resentment to the proffered flag and cockade of the new monarch, they came forward every man, wearing the tri-colored cockade, and the white ones on the heads of the dogs that ran about the yards. The white flag they destroyed with great eagerness, in presence of the visitors and great numbers of British officers standing on the wall.

Shortly after this intelligence of the affairs of France, we had letters from Chatham, which informed us that, since the last from that place, there had arrived great numbers of prisoners there, and that many were almost persuaded in their own minds to enter the enemy’s service; that they had received the additional allowance at the same time as ourselves. On the 15th we were informed that there was a draft ready at Plymouth, and would shortly be sent to this depot.

About this time a separate arrangement was made for allowing the crew of the U. S. brig Argus half pay, to be received monthly, and at the time the first payment was received, they received clothing. This was an additional benefit to our prison, as there were established in it a great number of shops for various branches of business; this money circulated within ourselves, and every one derived some advantage.

The preliminaries of peace being agreed on at Paris, the French prisoners, towards the close of the month, began to make all preparation for leaving the prison, and once more visiting their native country. The idea of returning to their native land, their homes, and their wives, was too nicely interwoven with the threads of their nature to be razed by that of their aversion to the Bourbons. The change which was about to take place in their situation had in it too many of the endearments of life to be sacrificed for the love of any monarch. The scenes of their youth, the places where they had spent so many careless, pleasant days, the embraces of their friends, all rushed upon their minds at once, and they could not forbear the highest transports of joy. They went to leave all the evils that men suffer in this life, and to embrace all the good and blessings of it.

We had now an opportunity of procuring all the tools and utensils of the mechanical arts which the French carried on. And during their long imprisonment they had obtained almost every article that could be named; all these articles we purchased, and every man turned all his ingenuity to some branch or other.

The weather being pleasant, and the prisoners healthy, they bore their confinement with as much patience as could be expected. By permission, towards the close of the month, they established a beer-house, where small-beer was sold for two pence halfpenny per pot.

On the last day of the month a school was established for the instruction of the boys in the arts of reading, writing, and common arithmetic; to maintain the school, the rate of tuition was fixed at six pence per month per scholar, to be paid by them.

May commenced, the weather was equally fine, but some rain. In the bustle of the crowd, we almost forgot our situation; the market square was crowded every day with people of every description—some came for curiosity, others to trade, and among the latter were many Jews, who brought clothing, and many other articles which might be wanted by the French for their journey. The French prisoners were all in confusion making ready for their departure. The proposal was again made to the French prisoners to hoist the white flag, and wear the insignia of Louis XVIII.; but they rejected it, and would not listen to any argument. Now was the time to try the strength of their attachment to the emperor, whom only they had sworn to serve or die in prison. When the proposition was made to them either to hoist the flag and wear the insignia, or remain in prison till the last draft of prisoners in England, they then immediately, but rather reluctantly, hoisted the white flag and put on the cockade. But it was a grievous sight to them, and they could not look at it but with the bitterest reflection, and the most poignant regret; for they had for years endured all the calamities and hardships of danger and war for the support of their beloved emperor, who now must give place to those they hated.

On the 10th a draft of Americans from Plymouth, about 170, in great distress, arrived at this depot, among whom were the seventeen that were taken and put into close confinement by the information of Robertson. They had been tried for high treason by a court of judicature, but there not being sufficient evidence on the part of the crown to support the charge, they were acquitted, and sent to this prison, to be dealt by as prisoners of war only. In the same draft were a number of prisoners who had been released from British ships of war.

On the 15th we received our monthly pay; this came very appropos, to enable us to buy all the furniture used by the French at a very low price. On the same day Mr. Williams, clerk to Mr. Beasley, and a Jew merchant of London, Mr. Jacobs, brought and delivered to each prisoner a jacket, pair of trowsers, a pair of shoes, and a shirt. The jacket and trowsers were of very coarse blue cloth, much coarser than that of the English; but it was such a dress as we had been used to wearing. Mr. Williams then told us that we were to be clothed altogether by the United States, and these we had now received were to last us eighteen months. These were the first we had ever received from the agent; and it is impossible to describe the great change and life it gave the prisoners: they all cleaned themselves, and every thing about them, and laid by their yellow rags.

They began to attract the attention of all about them; the British officers would now visit them, and were not afraid of being covered with vermin as before; our appearance was not loathsome to one another; we were in great spirits now, and to prevent some thoughtless men from selling their clothing to the French to wear home, we passed an act that every man should appear in his dress which he had received from the United States, to receive his monthly payment, or not receive it at all.

We now felt a spirit of independence which had before been smothered in the wretchedness of our situation; we could now converse with ease, and without that restraint which a mean and dirty habit will ever give a man in presence of those in a clean and genteel one; that old, dirty, tawny dress depressed us with a sense of inferiority; but now we could vindicate our country’s rights in argument with any visitor; we came out boldly, and demanded restitution for any injury or fraud that heretofore had been practised upon us; every man began to see to it, how he should gain something more, now he was furnished with utensils, and set himself about something.

On the twentieth, orders arrived for the first draft of French, and the day after five hundred were taken out and marched to Plymouth, where they took shipping and went to France.

A very singular kind of conduct now showed itself in the British government. Twenty-four Americans, citizens of the United States, who had been taken under the flag of France about two years before the war between the United States and Great Britain, were now among the French prisoners at this place. They had often applied to the government to be released as citizens of the United States before the war. They also, asserting their citizenship, had applied after the war, to be enrolled on the list of United States prisoners, but had been refused both their applications. They now expected to be released with the French prisoners, on account of their always being considered by government as French prisoners; but the government would not release them as such, but detained them in prison. They now, seeing they could not have the privilege of French prisoners, applied to Mr. Beasley, and claimed their citizenship in the United States, but received for answer from him, “that he could not receive them as such!”

These men were citizens of the world sure enough, for they belonged to no nation in it; they therefore remained unprovided for by either government. But we could not see them perish as long as we had any thing which could be divided; they therefore lived upon our charity the whole time.

On the twenty-fifth, another draft took place as before, and released one thousand. At this time, all the Swedish subjects, taken under the flag of the United States, were released and permitted to go home.

The French, who had been employed in different occupations, being now released, we applied to government to be allowed that privilege, each man employed at these different occupations, such as carpenters, blacksmiths, masons, nurses in the hospital &c.; and two hundred labourers were paid six pence a day. In answer to this application, we were told, that after the discharge of all the French prisoners we should have them allowed us.

When the French prisoners passed out, they were all called over by name, and great numbers being dead, which was not known to the keepers, afforded a fine opportunity for the Americans to answer, and pass out in the name of the deceased. Great numbers, who could speak French, obtained their release in this manner.

At the end of the month, another draft of one thousand took place, among whom, twenty Americans passed out in the same manner as before, the deception not being as yet discovered.

At the same time, we received information by letters from Chatham and Stapleton, that Mr. Williams, and the Jew merchant had visited them, and supplied them in the manner as ourselves, and also, that the French prisoners at those places were released daily. Few died this month, the weather generally pleasant, but much rain.

Before I leave the events of this month, I cannot forbear mentioning one very melancholy and striking instance of the force of disappointment and despair; where hope has painted glowing scenes of pleasure; the heart sickens and the mind grows frantic.

On the discharge of the prisoners, every man before he can be discharged, must return the same complement of bedding which he had received two years before; he must have the same number of articles, let them be in ever so worn-out state; if he do this he can then pass, if not, he cannot pass.

It happened, that one unfortunate man, called for in the last draft, did not bring forward the articles of bedding: he was refused a pass, and ordered back to produce them; he ran about in great confusion and the most terrible anxiety to procure them, but could not find them; he returned again to pass out, he was refused; he had been immured and buried within the cold, gloomy walls of this prison, eleven tedious and painful years, he said: he ran and looked, and looked again—he could not procure them, and he was refused to pass;—then, in the agonies of despair, he seized a knife and put an end to his sufferings, by cutting his own throat, in presence of his countrymen and the keepers!

The spectacle was too horrible to behold without the deepest regret and sorrow; it was a sight, that all-powerful Juno might have sent down Iris from heaven, to relieve his struggling soul from her united limbs. Many, through despair, had committed suicide before in the French prisons.

June. The weather continued much the same. On the fifth, another draft of French prisoners was made. At this time, an order was issued, to discharge from confinement all French prisoners who had been taken under the flag of the United States. The Americans, who were ever watchful for an opportunity to make their escape, took advantage of this order to obtain their liberty; many came forward and claimed their birth right in France and its dependencies; being well versed in the French language, they bore a good examination, and one hundred and twenty-one were released in the last draft of French subjects.

By this time all the French from No. 4 were released, and we had the whole prison to ourselves; but the blacks being mixed with us were very troublesome.

We having purchased from the French all they had, were now well furnished with household furniture, such as tables, dishes, seats, and things to cook in. We now carried on the business of making straw flats for hats and bonnets, although not allowed by government; by strict attention, we could make at this business three pence a day.

On the fifteenth, we received our monthly pay, which never failed to come about that time.

On the twentieth, the whole of the French prisoners were discharged except a few sick in the Hospital.

On the 22d, Capt. Shortland gave us information that all the prisoners in England were to be collected at Stapleton, as the Transport Board determined on that place for a general depot for all American prisoners. There were now in England, three thousand five hundred unparoled prisoners. The same information was given at Chatham and Plymouth.

We anticipated much advantage in the change of situation, and began to prepare for the removal, and from the authentic account we had received from that place, there had not died but one-fiftieth as many in proportion to their number, as had died at this depot; the change was therefore much to be desired; the climate was much more pleasant and healthy, and the contiguity to the city of Bristol, where every article manufactured by the prisoners, would find a ready market at a much higher price than at this place; all articles of provision much cheaper. But much to our disappointment, on the twenty-fourth, the late order was countermanded, and Capt. Shortland ordered to make all things ready for the reception of all the prisoners in England, as the board had determined on making this depot the general receptacle for all prisoners in the country, as they considered it the safest of any in the kingdom, and they might have added, far more infernal than the Bastile. He also told the prisoners that he had orders to employ any number of the prisoners he should think necessary, such as carpenters and masons, to build a church near the prison, and a number of laborers to repair the roads; also blacksmiths, coopers, painters, lamp-lighters, and nurses in the hospital, &c. The number, he said, would amount to upwards of one hundred. He then told us under what restrictions we were to work; we were to be under the eye of a guard all the time, and if any prisoner attempted to make his escape, that no more Americans would be employed, and to prevent this, the following rule was adopted; they were to receive their pay, at the rate of six-pence per day, every three months, and if any prisoner escaped, the whole pay was forfeited; this kept every prisoner watchful over each other, for when one run away, all the others lost their whole pay and employment; besides, this was the method they had used with the French.

We found this to be a great benefit to us, for those workmen who went out of the prison yards, smuggled in all kinds of prohibited articles, such as rum, candles, oil, and news papers; and smuggled out all the prohibited articles, manufactured in the prison. At this trade each man could make four or five shillings a day.

There were now eleven hundred prisoners, and manufactures having got to considerable perfection, the receipts of money brought into the prison each week besides the allowances, were fifty pounds sterling. Besides this sum of money, many prisoners had friends in England, and received from them considerable sums.

The prisoners now began to live, and got into good spirits. The latter part of this month 150 workmen were employed at different branches of mechanical business. At this time prisoners from Stapleton arrived at this depot; their number at first was 400, but was now reduced to 350. Seventeen had enlisted in the British service, eight died, and the remainder made their escape. On their arrival here, they were committed to No. 4, which contained upwards of 1400, and was much crowded. These 350 were in a very bad condition, many were without shoes, and had travelled most of the distance in the same condition, for the shoes they had received from the agent did not last more than three or four weeks. This was an imposition of the contractor, as the agent afterwards said he had learned.

On the twentieth of June we were informed, by Capt. Shortland, that when the other prisoners arrived from Chatham, he would open the yards on the south side of the enclosure, and give us all the privileges of the other prisons. These yards being large, would admit of many amusements which that of No. 4 would not, such as playing ball, &c.

At this time, viewing our circumstances on all sides, and seeing no hope of exchange or peace, we formed a design to make our escape; our plan was, that immediately after our removal to the other prisons, to dig a hole two hundred and eighty feet long, all the way under ground; this would reach from the prison beyond the outer wall. The success of this design will be mentioned hereafter. On the same day we received London papers, containing an account of the capture of the United States frigate Essex, by the frigate Phebe and sloop-of-war Cherub. The London editor said that the Essex was equal in size to a seventy-four. Had he said her defence was equal to a seventy-four, Capt. Hillyar would have agreed with him. The garrison was again renewed with a new regiment, and the old one removed. This regiment was very much embittered against the government; their term of five years, for which they had enlisted, having expired, the government refused to discharge them.

At this time the government was giving great encouragement to soldiers to enlist to fight against the United States; this regiment was offered every inducement to join; they therefore made it their business to make particular inquiry of the prisoners what was the manner of our warfare, and the dispositions of the American soldiers. I found they were very ignorant in these things, and easily deterred from their enlisting. I composed a song, and distributed it among them, after which not a man ever enlisted or offered to. This very much enraged the soldier-officers of the garrison, who issued orders that if any sentry was found conversing with a prisoner, he should be punished; but it was impossible to stop it, the soldiers were equally desirous as the prisoners to converse.

The fourth of July was not far distant, and we began to make preparations to celebrate the day a second time since our confinement. We obtained permission from the keeper to purchase two hogsheads of porter; we likewise had got a number of gallons of rum unbeknown to the keeper.

We also provided ourselves with American colors, and invited all the soldier-officers, clerks of the prison, and soldiers, to attend and hear an oration that would be delivered on the fourth, which was the anniversary of American Independence. The prisoners were in high spirits, expecting to enjoy themselves much better than they had done on the preceding one, when they were half naked.

In the month of June we had but few deaths, and the prisoners generally healthy; we had rain, and many showers.

On the first of July we received letters from Chatham, informing us that they were much concerned at a late order, which was shortly to remove them to this depot; the same letter informed us that the prisoners on board the Crowned Prince had been confined three days without victuals or drink; the reason why is yet untold.

On the second of the month the crew of the Argus received another payment of several pounds each man, through the hands of the late purser to that vessel; this came very timely to us in the celebration of American Independence.

By letters from Plymouth, this day, we were informed the reason of the prisoners being confined below deck on board the Crowned Prince.

It happened that the boats’ crew of that ship had been on shore and stole a sheep from a farmer, and the commander had had his table served with the best pieces; the farmer getting information where the sheep had gone, came and demanded reparation for his sheep; the commander, to screen the boats’ crew, paid the farmer the price of the sheep.

The story of the sheep was soon known to the prisoners, who, having a dislike to the commander, one morning, as he was going on shore with his wife, and at the moment he was entering the boat, they all as one agreed to cry blar; he understood the meaning the very instant the sound struck his ear, and turning back, he ordered the prisoners all below, and to be kept there three days without victuals or drink.

On the evening of the third, an event happened at Dartmoor, which ended in a very serious manner. A dispute arose between two of the prisoners late belonging to the United States’ brig Argus, by the names of Thomas Hill and James Henry; the quarrel growing quite warm, and not being ended that night, they agreed to fight next morning; accordingly, next morning, about nine o’clock, they commenced the battle in prison No. 4, and by an unfortunate blow from Hill, Henry was killed on the spot; a jury of inquest was called next morning and held over the body of the deceased, and after hearing the evidence, the jury brought in a verdict of manslaughter, (or a killing not wholly without fault, but without malice.) Thomas Hill was removed and confined in the county prison at Exeter, there to await his trial at the August assizes then next ensuing.

The fourth of July now having arrived, and all things in great preparation, we displayed our flag in the yard, with the following inscription upon it in large capitals, “All Canada or Dartmoor prison for life.” This pleased the soldiers, but irritated the officers, who, discovering our firm resolution to defend the flag, and not having but part of a regiment in the garrison, and they friendly toward us, thought best to be quite silent, and let us proceed our own way; for if they attempted to deprive us of the flag, we might rush on the guard, who would make but a faint resistance, or join us, and all the prisoners might make an easy escape. But the prisoners did not wish to make the attempt, for they knew a reinforcement could easily be raised, and make a vigorous pursuit, and were therefore willing to wait some more favorable opportunity. At eleven o’clock all the prisoners assembled in the yard. The British officers belonging to the garrison, colonels, majors, captains, clerks, turnkeys, and a great number of soldiers, assembled on the walls to hear an oration composed by a Yankee sailor, upon the circumstances of the present times. An empty cask was placed in such a situation, as all the strangers on the walls could hear distinctly.

The orator of the day then mounted the cask, and all the spectators keeping a profound silence, began his oration, which we shall give our readers verbatim, as it was delivered by the sailor.

Countrymen and fellow-citizens:

This day we dedicate as the birth-day of freedom, it being the fourth of July—the day that our fathers declared themselves free and independent from the tyrannical laws of this country. After many years hard struggle, and the loss of many of our fathers and friends, America was acknowledged by all civilized nations, a free and independent government.

For many years our fathers, and we, their offspring, remained in the most perfect state of peace and tranquility, and reaped every blessing that grows on the soil of liberty; England, ever envying us the honor our fathers acquired by their valor in arms, when they declared that themselves and their sons should no longer wear the yoke of tyranny. Since that time, England has used every intrigue to deprive us of the greatest of blessings. First, contrary to the laws of civilized nations, she has dragged you from your homes, from your wives, your families and friends, into her infernal bulwarks—her ships of war; there, after suffering every degradation, from the terror of the lash, she has sent you to the most horrid prison in compensation for your long and faithful services. England, envying the happiness our countrymen enjoyed under so mild a government, the reverse of her own tyrannical laws, exerted every art to destroy their tranquility, by offering insults to the United States ships at various times, impressing and murdering our brother seamen, within the jurisdiction of our own waters, and within sight of our capitol. Our country was passive, and wishing to remain at peace with all nations, bore these insults with a fortitude becoming a great and wise people, and was in hope that, at some future day, England would redress those injuries in a fair and honorable way. But, contrary to every expectation for years before the war, she grew more bold, and showed a disposition to add injury to insult, by issuing orders to make prizes of all American vessels not bound to her own ports or those of her allies.

All nations stood amazed to see our country insulted, our seamen impressed and murdered within our own waters; our commerce confined and completely destroyed, contrary to the laws of neutrality. All this was done by England, and she unprovoked. Then, fellow-citizens, the results of all these depredations must be a formal declaration of war, which could no longer be delayed. Our country then, prudently and wisely, mustered all their forces, both by sea and land; England stood ready for combat fully prepared, and with the fullest assurance of a speedy victory; but, alas! for England; within a few weeks after the declaration of war, the United States frigate Constitution, commanded by Captain Isaac Hull, fell in with His Majesty’s ship Guerriere, and then retaliated for one insult by sending her to the bottom. Great was the astonishment of England.

Shortly after, the U. S. ship Wasp fell in with His Majesty’s ship Frolic, of far superior force, and after a second retaliation, she acknowledged her country’s wrongs by striking her colors to the gallant Jones.

The officers and seamen of our infant navy now felt the ardor of our forefathers.

Decatur, in the frigate United States, fell in with a vessel of equal force, the Macedonian, the pride of the British navy; and, after displaying the courage of injured Americans, he took and brought her into port.

The Constitution shortly after took her station alongside of the Java, a frigate completely fitted and manned with a superior number of seamen; and again did the god of battle decide in favor of the injured Americans, and sent the Java to the bottom. The tidings had scarcely reached the American shore, when another laurel was added to our infant navy; the United States ship Hornet engaged His Majesty’s ship Peacock, of equal force; and Capt. Lawrence, unwilling to make any distinction between her and the Java, sent her to the bottom, too.

This intelligence had scarcely reached the shores of liberty, when victories were proclaimed from all directions.

The British, feeling their pride wounded by the great exploits of our undaunted seamen, fitted out the Boxer, with the fullest assurance of recovering her lost honor, and were confident of taking our brig Enterprise, of much inferior force. But Divine Providence, ever extending the hand of assistance to the injured, decided the contest in favor of our insulted country; and the Boxer was captured and brought safe into port, in the United States.

Our next laurel was reaped on Lake Erie, by Commodore Perry. He bravely captured all the naval force on that lake, to the amazement of all surrounding nations, and the disgrace of the British flag.

Commodore Chauncey, at the same time, had a complete ascendency over the whole British force on Lake Ontario; while Commodore Rodgers is traversing the ocean in every direction, and destroying British property to an immense value. The United States ship Essex is complete master of all the South Seas, in defiance of all the boasted superiority of the British. The United States ship Congress is cruising on the coast of Brazil, and completely intercepting the trade of Great Britain to all Spanish South America, and defying any thing of equal size.

And now, fellow-citizens, this country, what has she done? She has long boasted of her honor and her bravery; and she has issued orders to her frigates, never to engage an American frigate unless under cover of a ship of the line. She has likewise endeavored to rouse the anger of the savage tribes in the wilderness of Canada, to murder and scalp your brethren in arms, in that country. But Divine Providence, still assisting your injured country, turned the ferocity of the savages against those who moved them to anger, and their vengeance recoiled on the hand that attempted to use it. And you, fellow-citizens, although prisoners of war, feel the benefit of belonging to so great and wise a nation. Have the United States not assisted us in our unhappy situation, and much meliorated our sufferings, though illy able while carrying on so expensive a war?

And now, fellow-citizens, I conjure you to be patient, and consider your country to be using her utmost endeavor to bring about an honorable and speedy peace. In a state of war, many stories are circulated in this country favorable to her success in arms, which have no foundation; and this is done to encourage and inspire the soldiery to enlist in her wars; and perhaps, fellow-citizens, many of you may honestly believe the reports, but let them not make you despair of your country. No, depend upon it, she cannot be conquered. England may get momentary possession of one small city, or perhaps ten, but America is not conquered till every man is either taken prisoner or killed.

The success of our naval arms is a sufficient proof, and our country is now in triumph at her great naval success. Have we not this moment, as it were, heard of another brilliant achievement upon the ocean? The United States ship Peacock, on her first cruise after she left the stocks, captured and brought into port His Majesty’s ship L’Epervier, of equal size, with immense sums of silver and much treasure on board?

From the success of American arms, which have already astonished our enemies, we have nothing to fear; and we have the greatest reason to believe that the American cause is big with the most wonderful achievements; that the exploits of our countrymen in arms, in the present contest, will astonish all nations, and be recorded on the pages of history, and remain in the choicest archives of posterity, with equal glory to those of Marathon and Thermopylæ.

Fellow-prisoners, let us then be resigned to our present unhappy condition; and through the great exertion of our country, and the assistance of Divine Providence, who disposes of events and governs futurity, we may hope once more to revisit our native country in an honorable peace, and live happy and free.

After the oration was delivered, the officers that were on the walls entered the prison yard, and expressed the greatest surprise that we should entertain a hope that the United States would be successful in a war with Great Britain, when she was at peace with all other nations. But for consolation to us in our present condition, we might rest fully assured that we should be released in a very short time by a peace, which would be brought about by their conquering the United States, and reducing them to colonies again; and such a change, which must shortly take place, they said must be imputed entirely to the bad management of our President and Congress: we have now conquered France, and America must be conquered next. We found them ignorant of the strength and resources of the American people; we gave them a particular account of the situation of America, her means of defence, and the spirit and determination of the people; the great superiority of gunnery which the American seamen possessed over those of Great Britain; the truth of which was shown in the actions of the Guerriere, Frolic, Java, &c., &c.

They left the yard much chagrined at these facts, which they could not deny; and remarking that they were surprised to find sailors so well acquainted with the politics of both countries, but that they believed they must be most of them Englishmen born, and that it was a very great pity His Majesty should be deprived of so many valuable seamen.

At two o’clock we sat down to our fourth of July dinner, which was composed of soup and beef, the best we could prepare. We gathered in parties, with the greatest animation, conversing of our President and Congress, for whom we sailors have the greatest respect; and Mr. Madison, particularly, is a great favorite of sailors. After dinner we had a song, which was composed for the occasion.

The day was passed in the greatest harmony; no quarrel or strife occurred to mar its pleasure. The next day every man resumed his occupation, and seemed to enjoy a negative happiness, which arose from a freedom from absolute pain.

On the eighth of this month, a friend of mine, for whom I had much respect, died; and at his burial I took occasion to survey the vast tenements of the dead, and consider, within myself, what innumerable multitudes of people lay confused together on this moor; how friends and enemies, officers and soldiers, the brave and the coward, collected from all quarters of the globe, of all nations, and of all colors, lay undistinguished in one common mass of matter; and not a stone to name one tenant of the tomb.

After having surveyed this great magazine of mortality as it were, in the lump, out of respect to my friend, I searched about and obtained a very slaty stone, on which I inscribed the following words:

Here lies the body of
JAMES HART,
A native of the United States of
America,
Who departed this life July 8th, 1814.

Under which was the following epitaph:

Your country mourns your hapless fate;