Increase of war prisoners by arrival of Americans in 1812—Mr. Andrews’ account, published in New York, 1815—Officers on parole—Others confined on board the Hulks at Plymouth—Daily duties on board—Removal from Hulks to Dartmoor—Description of interior—Precautions taken to prevent escape—Mr. Andrews’ account of the French prisoners—Sufferings increased by intense cold and snow of the winter of 1814—Stock of rations runs low—Starvation threatened—Release of French prisoners—Great schemes of wholesale escape—Conflict with the troops—Bloodthirsty conduct of Captain Shortland—Troops fire on the prisoners with deplorable results—The Dartmoor Prison of to-day—Results achieved by judicious labour—Reclamation of waste lands—Profitable farming—Good crops raised—Horses and cattle bred.
A VERY large increase of the number of war prisoners in England was the result of the war with the United States in 1812. An excellent account of what befell these American prisoners is preserved in the Memoirs of Mr. Charles Andrews, published in New York in 1815. Some of his personal experiences deserve to be quoted in extenso.
He says: “I myself happened to be so unfortunate as to be among the first captives brought into England the 18th of June, 1812. On our first arrival we were all collected from different ports and confined in different prisons. Some were sent to Chatham, some to Hamoaze 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 manning fourteen guns; commanders and first mates of merchantmen, non-combatants, etc.), received it and were sent to the little village of Ashburton in Devonshire or Reading in Berkshire; the former is situated about twenty 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 descriptions taken of them. They were allowed by the British Government one shilling and sixpence, which equalled 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 the 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, there to remain till next morning. These 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 numbers 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 favourable 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 was 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 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.
“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 bedsack, with at most not more than three or four pounds of flocks or chopped rags, one thin coarse and sleazy blanket; this furniture of the bed-chamber 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 pay but little attention to the suffering prisoners, although the prisoner is seldom or never suffered to expire on board; for at the moment that death seems inevitably approaching, the prisoner is removed to a ship lying near by, called the hospital ship, where if he happen to survive, he receives much better treatment and attendance; but when once removed to that ship he may bid adieu to his fellow prisoners and 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 duties, viz., 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 cook their own victuals, which consisted of the following rations allowed by the English Government,—to each man one and a half pounds of very poor coarse bread, half a pound of beef including the bone, a 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; and 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.
“For consolation in our present miserable condition we were informed that the said honourable board had indulgently permitted the American prisoners to establish and carry on any branch of manufacture, except such as knitting woollen fabrics, making straw hats and bonnets, etc., or rather, they proscribed every branch of manufacture which they were capable of pursuing. At this time they could have carried on the making of straw in plaits for bonnets with very considerable advantage, for almost every sailor was more or less capable of working at this art and by directing attention to the business could have earned six or eight pence per day; but this was not permitted and we considered the prohibition a contrivance of the agents of the government to induce prisoners to enter H. M. service.[7]
“During the fall of the year 1812 to the April in 1813, the English had collected at the following depots the number now 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.
“On the 2nd April, 1813, 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 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 3rd April they were ordered on deck with their hammocks, baggage, etc., in readiness to march to the prison, the very name of which made the mind of every prisoner ‘shrink back with dread and startle at the very thought,’ for fame had made them well acquainted with the horrors of that infamous 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 ships 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.
“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 bleak 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 solid 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, upon 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 to 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’ guardhouse, the turnkeys’ office and many other small buildings are within these two circular walls; likewise several large commodious dwelling houses which are occupied by the captain of the prison, doctor, clerks, turnkeys, etc., etc. Inside the walls are erected large barracks, capacious enough to contain a 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 prisoners. 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 to an extensive prison. These last mentioned buildings and several cell store-houses are enclosed by a third wall. These three ranks of walls form in this direction a barrier which is insurmountable.
“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 everything 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 uniforms, wooden shoes, and meagre lantern-jaws. He viewed 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.’”
In December the cold increased, and the prisoners suffered acutely. Captain Cotgrave, the governor and superintendent, 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 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 snow while they were attending this ceremony. Complaints were numerous and this practice was denounced as much too severe for the prisoners but the superintendent pleaded his orders which as agent he was bound to obey. Yet there were painful incidents which should have touched the heart of any feeling man who saw them. Several of these naked men, chilled and benumbed with cold, and generally half-starved, fell down lifeless before him and in the presence of the guards and turnkeys. It was a cruelty exceeding murder to expose naked helpless creatures to perish in the pitiless blast of this bleak mountain side. “We remonstrated,” continues Andrews, “with the infamous author but all our applications 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 had fallen down in the yard they were taken up and carried to the hospital and with some difficulty restored to life again; they were then immediately sent back to prison, there to lie on the stone floor without bed or covering.
“The name of Isaac Cotgrave, agent at Dartmoor, of cruel memory, will ever be engraven in odious characters on the minds of every American who witnessed his unparalleled cruelty.”
Presently the iron sceptre was wrested from his hand and placed beyond his reach. The new agent, Captain Thomas G. Shortland, at this time, December, 1812, superseded Cotgrave. Shortland was a man whose feelings had not yet grown callous, and at his first arrival he was shocked at the scenes of misery which presented themselves in every shape. 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 he was obliged to enforce, and he declared to the prisoners that he would do all in his power to procure them better treatment from his government.
The year 1814 began with as cold weather as was ever experienced in the city of New York. The buckets in the prison containing ten or twelve quarts froze in the short space of four hours to a solid mass, and the prisoners must have inevitably 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 was set hard and the weather was said to be colder than it had been for fifty years before. The water was all frozen and the prisoners obliged to eat snow for drink. The guards were driven to abandon their posts on the walls and retire to the guard house; not one sentry was on duty except inside the barracks. At midnight 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; in ascending the second the soldiers in the guard house discovered them and prevented seven; the eighth got over the wall and got away. Those recaptured were at once carried to the black-hole, the first destination of all who tried and failed to escape. The weather was bitterly cold; still despite their sufferings they were passed on to the inner dungeon and lay there for ten days and nights on the straw; worse threatened, and for the whole of the inhabitants of Dartmoor communication with Plymouth was interrupted and supplies promised to run short. Everyone was put on half or two-thirds allowance. Salt rations, a reserve of which was always kept in stock, were issued to garrison and prisoners alike and the total, it was estimated, would not last for more than ten days for the large population shut in, amounting to nine thousand French and American prison troops, and numbering fifteen hundred with officers, doctors and turnkeys besides.
The situation mended when the labours of many hands with spades and snowplough broke through the deep snowdrifts, and sledges with provisions arrived. The Americans were also gladdened by the receipt of a letter from their agent announcing an increase of their money allowance, intended to pay for coffee and sugar as rations on the salt fish days. This was to have been distributed in kind but it was thought the cash,—three and a half pence per head, would be preferred, and the money was therefore sent, sevenpence per man per week, and was very heartily appreciated; and the total allowance was increased to six and eightpence on the understanding that this was to continue being paid monthly.
“As it was natural to expect,” continues Andrews, “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 necessary little articles of clothing such as shirts, shoes, trousers, etc., which could be bought very cheap of the French who always kept a store of second-hand clothing which was supplied by the officers.
The weather then became fine—for the place—and the prisoners’ health began to improve. They were quite comfortable when their condition was compared to the distress of the cold winter they had just passed through. Their little salary seemed to command some respect from the turnkeys, soldiers, officers and subalterns who were themselves as poor and meagre as Hamlet’s apothecary. It brought them many indulgences, such as full liberty of the markets, which had before been proscribed, when they had been compelled to purchase of the French at the gratings. This was a great benefit to them, for they could trade with the country people much cheaper. To regulate the rations they were also allowed to appoint a committee of two to attend at the store house to see that the director gave good weight in those articles allowed by the Board.
This year of 1814 saw the end of the French war and the release of the French prisoners from Dartmoor. “The Americans still detained,” says another authority, “were dispersed through the prisons, thus obtaining more space and liberty. They immediately set to work upon a plan for their escape which the French had never dreamed of attempting.[8] It was found that a passage two hundred and fifty feet long would carry them from three of the prisons to the road beyond the wall. Upon this they set to work in each building, digging by night in alternate parties, and carrying the earth from the passages into the stream that ran through their yard. About sixty feet of ground had been got through in this manner, when the proceedings in one of the prisons were discovered and stopped. After some delay the work was continued in the others until the passages were within forty feet of the road without the wall. Every man was then provided with a dagger, made by the prisoners who worked as blacksmiths; and they proposed on escaping to make at once for Torbay. But at this point, one of the prisoners, who perhaps had some discreet doubt as to the result of the enterprise, walked out in open day before all then in the yard—went up to the turnkeys, and marching off with them to the keeper’s house, gave him information of all the operation and designs—and we never saw him after. Quite as well, perhaps, for the informer.”
The confirmation of the treaty of Ghent was confidently expected to set free the Americans. There was still, however, much delay in the arrangements for the final release; and considerable excitement was the result. They hung Beasley, the American agent, in effigy; and a few days later a very serious disturbance took place at the prisons, owing to some mismanagement in distributing the bread allowances. They broke open the first three gates, drove the sentries to the guard-house, and were only checked by the soldiers of the garrison, who advanced upon them with fixed bayonets. Not a blow, however, was struck; but the alarm was great and the governor brought additional strength from the troops at Plymouth. On the evening of that day it was found that an attempt had been made to pierce the wall between the prisoners’ yards and an adjoining court, in which were kept the arms of the guard who were off duty. As soon as this discovery was made, it was thought proper to place an additional force on the wall commanding the courts, and to ring the alarm bell, as a signal of disturbance. Unfortunately the prisoners, who seemed to have had no intention of creating a disturbance, crowded to the first gate; the iron chain by which it was fastened was broken, and as many as were able pressed into the market square. It was naturally inferred that they were on the point of a desperate attempt at escape; and the governor, after some time vainly endeavouring to induce the prisoners to return to their yards, at last ordered the guard to charge them back. This they did; but the Americans still refused to enter their prisons, insulting the soldiers, daring them to fire, and at last pelting them with large stones. Whether any command to fire was given is uncertain; but it then commenced, and was without doubt continued and renewed without orders, in spite of the governor’s attempts to stop it. At first, the muskets were fired over the heads of the prisoners, who raised a cry of “blank cartridges” and continued their attack on the guard. It is not to be wondered at that the soldiers lost their temper. Seven of the prisoners were killed, and sixty more or less dangerously wounded.
The jury who attended the inquest returned a verdict of justifiable homicide; and both the American and English commissioners who conducted the subsequent inquiry found it impossible to do more than express their sorrow at the whole affair.
All of the prisoners, about five thousand, were almost at once released.
This same story is told more at length by Andrews. “On the 22d June, 1814,” he says, “Captain Shortland gave us information that all American prisoners in England were to be collected at Stapleton (Bristol) as the Transport Board had selected that place for a general depot. There were now in England thirty-five hundred unparoled prisoners. The same information was given at Chatham and Plymouth. On the evening of the 3rd July an event happened at Dartmoor which ended in a very serious manner. A dispute arose between two of the prisoners, 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 with night, they agreed to fight next morning. Accordingly the following 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 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 to await his trial at the August Assizes, then next ensuing.
“On the 29th December we were most agreeably surprised with the joyful tidings of peace—the preliminaries were announced in the London paper which we received this day, and the news was confirmed by a letter from Mr. Beasley received the same day, stating that the treaty had been signed by the commissioners at Ghent on the 24th, and that the sloop of war Favourite would sail with the treaty on the 2nd of January, 1815, with all possible speed for the United States, and that three months would release every man from confinement.
“Language is too feeble to describe the transports of joy that so suddenly and unexpectedly filled every heart. Every man forgot the many tedious days and nights he had so often numbered over within these prison walls. On the 13th of February one of four prisoners who had been sentenced the previous August to remain in his cell during the rest of the war, watched an opportunity to get among the other prisoners in the yard, and being led into the yard of that building for the benefit of the fresh air and seeing the attention of the turnkeys and soldiers occupied by some other object at this time, jumped over the iron railing that separated this building from the yards Nos. 1, 2, and 3 and concealed himself in the midst of the other prisoners. Next morning he was missed by the keepers and information given to Captain Shortland, who demanded that the man should be immediately surrendered to be again returned to his cell. The prisoners positively refused to give the man up and declared that no force of arms should wrest him from their protection. Whereupon Captain Shortland closed the market and forbade any communication with it, restricting the prisoners to their allowance and denying them every privilege.”
On the 14th February he entered the yard at the head of two hundred soldiers with fixed bayonets, and every prisoner was ordered to withdraw into the prison so that search might be made for the missing man. The whole having agreed to stand by each other and resist any violence, at a signal given they surrounded the troops and gave notice of their intention. But the officers interposed, anxious to avoid bloodshed. The soldiers were ordered to retire and make no further attempt at arrest. Peace was accordingly maintained until the 6th of April. “But on that day,” says Andrews, “about six o’clock in the evening Captain Shortland discovered a hole in the inner wall that separates the barrack wall from prisons Nos. 6 and 7; this hole had been made in the afternoon by some prisoners out of mere play without any design to escape.
“On discovering the hole Captain Shortland seemed instantly to conceive the murderous design, for without giving the prisoners any notice to retire, he planted soldiers in proper positions on the top of the wall where they could best assist in perpetrating his murderous and barbarous deeds. A few minutes past six while the prisoners were innocently, and unapprehensive of mischief, walking in the prison yards and particularly those in Nos. 1, 3 and 4 which were entirely separated from the yard in which the hole in the wall had been made, the alarm bells rung and the drums of the garrison in every direction beat to arms. This was about ten minutes past six. Such a sudden and unexpected alarm excited the attention of all the prisoners, who out of curiosity made immediately for the gates of the prison yard to enquire the reason of the alarm. When so many persons were confined in this depot, it is reasonable to suppose that some mischievous persons were included in the number, and, as a fact, among those collected at the gate were some who forced the gates open, whether by accident or design I will not attempt to say, but without any intention of making an escape, a project totally unknown to the few who stood in front of the gates. Those at the back naturally crowded forward to see what was going on at the gates; this pressed and forced a number through the gates quite inadvertently and without design. At this juncture Captain Shortland arrived in the inner square at the head of the whole body of soldiers in the garrison. He took sole command of the whole and immediately drew up the soldiers in a position to charge. The English officers, however, penetrating the horrid and murderous intention of their superior, resigned their authority over the soldiers and refused to take any part or give any orders for the troops to fire. They could see by this time that the overawed prisoners were already retiring as fast as so great a crowd would permit and hurrying in headlong flight in every direction towards their respective prisons.
“The troops had advanced within three yards of the prisoners when Captain Shortland gave the order to charge. There was a terrible jam at the gates and it was quite impossible for so great a crowd to pass quickly through. Every one was mad to escape from the points of the bayonets and a dreadful panic prevailed. At that moment, although completely master of the situation and no other violence or resistance was being offered or threatened, Captain Shortland was distinctly heard to give orders to the troops to open fire. It was immediately obeyed by the troops and a full volley of musketry was poured into the main body of the prisoners on the other side of iron railings which separated the prisoners from the soldiers. These volleys were repeated for several rounds, the prisoners falling either dead or wounded in all directions, while it was still impossible for them to enter the prison on account of the numbers that flew there for refuge from the rage of the bloodthirsty murderers. The troops seemed now resolved to make a wholesale massacre of all whom accident or impossibility had left outside the prison, and approaching the crowded doors instantly discharged another volley of musketry on the backs of those endeavouring to force their way in. The dead and the wounded lay scattered about the yard. Seven were killed on the spot and six suffered the loss of leg or arm; thirty-eight were dangerously wounded, several were pronounced mortally wounded, twelve slightly, the total number of killed and wounded being sixty-three.”
A despatch was immediately sent to Plymouth to inform the admiral and general commanding the station. Next morning, the 7th April, 1815, a colonel with a reinforcement of troops arrived and assumed command at Dartmoor. He very patiently listened to the accounts of both parties and an inquest was forthwith assembled, composed of residents in the neighbourhood, mostly farmers and salesmen. On the evening of the 9th the jury pronounced a verdict of “justifiable homicide,” which was indignantly denounced by the American opinion as contrary to the facts and the result of prejudice and unfair pressure.
Another version of this very regrettable occurrence is given by the commissioners for Dartmoor under date of 25th April, 1815, who made a special inquiry. Their report takes a more moderate view than Andrews and may be considered a plausible attempt by the superior officials to palliate the circumstances. The commissioners say:—
“During the period which has elapsed since the arrival in this country of the account of the ratification of the treaty of Ghent, an increased degree of restlessness and impatience of confinement appears to have prevailed amongst the American prisoners at Dartmoor which, though not exhibited in the shape of any violent excess, has been principally indicated by threats of breaking out if not soon released. On the 4th of April in particular, only two days previous to the events, the subject of this enquiry, a large body of prisoners rushed into the market square from whence by the regulations of the prison they are excluded, demanding bread instead of biscuits which had on that day been issued by the officers of the depot. Their demands, however, having been then almost immediately complied with, they returned to their own yards and the employment of force on that occasion became unnecessary.
“On the evening of the 6th, about six o’clock, it was clearly proved to us:—
“That a breach had been made in one of the prison walls sufficient for a full sized man to pass and that others had been commenced in the course of the day near the same spot though never completed;
“That a number of prisoners were near the railing erected to prevent them from communicating with the sentinels on the walls, which was of course forbidden by the regulations of the prison, and that in the space between the railing and these walls they were tearing up pieces of turf and wantonly pelting each other in a noisy, disorderly fashion;
“That a much more considerable number of the prisoners were collected together at that time in one of their yards, near the place where the breach was effected, and although such collection of prisoners was not unusual at other times (the gambling tables being commonly kept in that part of the yard) yet when connected with the circumstances of the breach and the time of the day, being after the signal for the prisoners to go to their respective prisons had ceased to sound, it became a right and just ground of alarm to those who had charge of the depot. Upon these grounds Captain Shortland appears to us to have been justified in giving the order, which about six o’clock he seems to have issued, to sound the alarm bell, the usual warning for collecting the officers of the depot and putting the military on the alert. However reasonable and justifiable this was as a measure of protection, the effects produced thereby in the prisons, but which could not have been intended, were most unfortunate, and deeply to be regretted. A considerable number of the prisoners in the yards where no disturbance existed before, and who were either already within their respective prisons or quietly retiring as usual towards them, immediately upon the sound of the bell, rushed back from curiosity—as it appears—towards the gates where by that time a crowd had assembled.
“Captain Shortland, in the first instance, proceeded out of the square towards the prisoners, having ordered a part of the different guards to the number of about fifty only, though they were increased afterwards, to follow him. For some time both he and Dr. Magrath (the chief medical officer) endeavoured by quiet means and persuasion to induce the prisoners to retire to their own yards, explaining to them the fatal consequences which must ensue if they refused, as the military would in that case be necessarily compelled to employ force. Captain Shortland finding persuasion was in vain, at last ordered about fifteen file of the guards to charge the prisoners back to their yards. With regard to any order having been given to fire the evidence is very contradictory. Several of the Americans swear positively that Captain Shortland gave that order, but the manner in which from the confusion of the moment they describe this part of the transaction is so different in its details that it is very difficult to reconcile their testimony. Moreover Captain Shortland denies the fact.
“The firing in the square having continued for some time, by which several of the prisoners sustained injuries, the greater part of them appear to have been running back with the utmost precipitation and confusion to their respective prisons and the cause for further firing seems at this period to have ceased. The subsequent firing appears to have arisen from the state of irritation and exasperation on the part of the soldiers who followed the prisoners into their yards and from the absence of nearly all of the officers who might have restrained it. Captain Shortland was from this time busily occupied with the turnkeys in the square receiving and taking care of the wounded.”
Great efforts were afterwards made to bring home the responsibility for the deaths or wounds inflicted, and to identify the soldiers who had opened fire, but with no satisfactory result. The men to blame could not be discovered, and indeed they must have been sheltered under the orders that must almost certainly have been received. The commissioners in the end came to a rather lame and impotent conclusion, and wound up their report with the words: “Whilst we lament most deeply the unfortunate transaction which has been made the subject of this inquiry, we find ourselves totally unable to suggest any steps to be taken as to those parts of it which seem to call for any redress or punishment.” This “horrid massacre,” as it was freely styled at the time, was subsequently submitted to a joint commission of English and Americans who awarded no special blame, but were unanimous in deploring the costly mistake made by too easily excited prisoners on the one side, and authorities too hasty in availing themselves of savage and ferocious means of repression.
It was not the only outbreak of dangerous dimensions at Dartmoor, but that of 1812 was happily quelched without bloodshed. The mutineers were Frenchmen and, according to a contemporary account, the prisoners rose in protest against the issue of biscuit as a ration in lieu of bread. The bake house had been recently destroyed by fire, and it was necessary to give biscuit; at first an increased allowance of one and a half pounds, but reduced presently to one pound. Any interference with the dietaries is a dangerous proceeding with prisoners and generally resented. On this occasion some seventy-five hundred of them broke out in open insurrection. They attacked and broke the ponderous bars of the principal gate, but could do no more mischief, and as a last resource sought to set fire to the prison and escape en masse. The troops saved the situation, assisted by three pieces of artillery brought to bear upon the mutineers, which overawed them without opening fire.
Dartmoor was vacated on the advent of peace and remained empty for many years. It was maintained in a habitable condition, however, and another use was found for it as time passed, somewhat on the old lines, still as a prison, but for criminal offenders. When the cessation of transportation beyond the seas brought about a complete change in the British methods of secondary punishment, and it was essential to provide penal establishments at home, Dartmoor was converted into a convict prison appropriated at first to invalids, but eventually to the able bodied; and felon labour was applied in large quantities to the reclamation of the barren moorland and its conversion into productive farms. It was an ideal penal settlement; at first a wild, barbarous place remote from the busy haunts of men, yet not too far for effective control and supervision. When here, stern salutary discipline could be enforced for the correction of wrong-doers and their removal, although falling far short of the old penal exile with its many evils and drawbacks, would act as a deterrent from the commission of crime.
The Dartmoor of to-day is an object lesson to prison administrators. It is a striking proof of what patience and the judicious application of a well conceived, admirably well worked out system can accomplish. It has had a double aim; the useful and remunerative employment of depredators making restitution, and the endowment of the country by bringing wide areas of waste land into cultivation. In the earlier stages of its renewed life, incessant labour was bestowed upon the improvement and adaptation of ancient buildings to modern requirements, to fencing, draining, road-making and then the regeneration of the soil to agricultural pursuits. The prison farm, now of more than two thousand acres, has been created by convicts in upwards of forty years. The whole of this acreage, once a mere common and unenclosed waste, is now transformed into productive fields worked with a proper scientific rotation of crops. “Ground that was once mostly rushes is now able to carry a bullock per acre through the summer. No purer or cleaner pastures are to be found anywhere.... Sixty-seven acres of meadow land have been laid out for irrigation and utilisation of the sewage from the prison establishment, which at times numbers upwards of one thousand persons. A dairy herd of forty-five cows is kept and all the cows are reared ... a flock of four hundred sheep, ‘Improved Dartmoors,’ is kept and has frequently been successful in the local show yards. The wool, for so high a district, is remarkably good and of long staple. Pony mares and their produce are run in the fields. One of the ponies bred on Dartmoor won first prize at the Royal Show at Plymouth. Thirty acres of garden are devoted to the growth of garden vegetables of which all kinds are grown, and much success has been obtained with celery and cucumbers. The whole of the work is done by convicts, without the aid of horses except for carting.”
This peaceful and prosperous colony of condemned felons has replaced the great war prison where as many as ten thousand unhappy victims of their quarrelsome rulers, but innocent of all crimes, passed years of hopeless exile, prolonged suffering and irksome confinement. The population to-day is little more than a tenth of the number originally lodged here. These inmates, whose liberty and labour have been forfeited by their misdeeds, are treated with humane severity and subjected to an exact but well-contrived discipline intended to maintain order and insist upon unremitting industry. The principle inculcated by the motto over the old gate, parcere subjectis, is still observed so long as the convicts deserve it. Unquestioning submission to authority is insisted upon. Without this none of the results achieved as already set forth could have been even approximately attained. Dartmoor is one of the best illustrations of the English convict system which was introduced after the failure of transportation beyond seas. It is a progressive system far superior and more effective than that “Irish system” so much praised and, indeed, overrated. The law-breaker when expiating his offence is put, so to speak, upon a ladder of improvement. He is subjected to corrective processes, but with his own coÖperation, so that his fate is really in his own hands. He is first chastened, then strengthened. He begins his penalty in the painful privacy of a separate cell; after six months of irksome monotonous confinement he is promoted to the healthy and laborious life in the open air of a “public work,”—Dartmoor, Portland, Parkhurst or Borstal. The employment is akin to that of the free workman, embracing many varieties of outdoor labour, digging, bricklaying, stone dressing, pile-driving, plate-laying and all the operations of farming and agriculture. Strong objections have been raised to the so-called “degrading associations,” but the conditions are identically those of all outdoor labour and the supposed mischief is not really great. No idle gossip is permitted; talk encourages idleness, and want of industry means loss of “marks,” or the forfeiture of a part of that precious boon of remission of time which is the sheet anchor of our English progressive system. To that system England owes the Portland Breakwater, the fortifications of the Verne, the extension of the dockyards of Chatham and Portsmouth with their vast inland lakes or basin of water, and last but not least the reclamation of Dartmoor bogs and their conversion into smiling gardens and fertile arable land.
Before leaving Dartmoor, it is right to refer to a graceful act performed in these latter days by a governor of the modern prison. It was in effect atonement for previous blameworthy neglect. In the old days there was much mortality among the war prisoners. The severity of the climate although greatly exaggerated was responsible for much, and numbers suffered from their own recklessness in gambling away their clothing and their constant addiction to drink. Scanty attention was paid to the graves of those who succumbed at Dartmoor, and we read that “the burial place of the unfortunate captives has been sadly neglected; horses and cattle have broken up the soil and left the bones of the dead to whiten in the sun.” Matters were no doubt made worse by the long years during which the buildings remained unoccupied. The reproach was at length removed by Captain Walter Stopford,[9] who, when governor of the prison in 1865, was at great pains to have the remains collected in two separate enclosures, and two monuments erected to the memory of the gallant men, Americans and Frenchmen, deceased in a strange land, the victims of the sad fortunes of war.
