CHAPTER III.

October 2d, 1814.—We were now ordered to pick up our duds and get all ready to embark in certain gun-brigs that had anchored along side of us; and an hundred of us were soon put on board, and the tide favouring, we gently drifted down the river Medway. It rained, and not being permitted to go below, and being thinly clad, we were wet to the skin. When the rain ceased, our commander went below, and returned, in a short time, gaily equipped in his full uniform, cockade and dirk. He mounted the poop, where he strutted about, sometimes viewing himself, and now and then eyeing us, as if to see if we, too, admired him. He was about five feet high, with broad shoulders, and portly belly. We concluded that he would afford us some fun; but we were mistaken; for, with the body of Dr. Slop, he bore a round, ruddy, open and smiling countenance, expressive of good nature and urbanity. The crew said, that although he was no seaman, he was a man, and a better fellow never eat the king's bread; that they were happy under his command; and the only dread they had was, that he, or they should be transferred to another ship. Does not this prove that seamen can be better governed by kindness and good humor than by the boatswain's cat? We would ask two of our own naval commanders, B. and C. whether they had not better try the experiment? We should be very sorry if the infant navy of our young country, should have the character of too much severity of discipline. To say that it is requisite is a libel on our national character. Slavish minds alone require the lash.

On board this brig were two London mechanics, recently pressed in the streets of the capital of the English nation—a nation that has long boasted of its liberty and humanity. These cocknies wore long coats, drab-coloured velvet breeches, and grey stockings. They were constantly followed by the boatswain's mate; who often impressed his lessons, and excited their activity with a rope's end which he carried in his hat. The poor fellows were extremely anxious to avoid such repeated hard arguments; and they kept at as great a distance from their tyrant as possible, who seemed to delight in beating them. It appeared to me to be far out-doing in cruelty, the Algerines. They looked melancholy, and at times, very sad. May America never become the greatest of naval powers, if to attain it, she must allow a brutal sailor to treat a citizen, kidnapped from his family in the streets of our cities, worse than we use a dog. I again repeat it, for the thousandth time, the English are a hard hearted, cruel and barbarous race; and, on this account alone, I have often been ashamed, that we, Americans, descended mostly from them. When a man is ill used, it invites others to insult him. One of our prisoners, who had been treated with a drink of grog, took out his knife, and, as the cockney's face was turned the other way, cut off one skirt of his long coat. This excited peals of laughter. When the poor Londoner saw that this was done by a roguish American, at the instigation of his own countrymen, the tear stood in his eye. Even our jolly, big bellied captain, enjoyed the joke, and ordered the boatswain's mate to cut off the other skirt, who, after viewing him amidst shouts of laughter, damned him for a land lubber, and said, now he had lost his ring-tail, he looked like a gentleman sailor.

Although our good natured captain laughed at this joke, I confess I could not; all the horrors of impressment rushed on my mind. This mechanic may have left a wife and children, suffering and starving, from having her husband and their father kidnapped, like a negro on the coast of Guinea, and held in worse than negro slavery. But this is Old England, the residence of liberty and equal laws; and the bulwark of our holy religion! The crimes of nations are punished in this world; and we may venture to predict, that the impressment of seamen, and cruel military punishments, will operate the downfal of this splendid imposter, whose proper emblem is a bloated figure, seated on a throne, made of dead mens' bones, with a crown on its head, a sword in one hand, and a cup filled with the tears of widows and orphans in the other.

Mr. Peel, a member of the British parliament, delivered an unfeeling speech relative to Ireland, in which he speaks of their untameable ferocity, and systematic guilt, supported by perjury, related this most affecting anecdote, which was to shew the feeling of abhorrence entertained against those who gave evidence against those who were tried for resisting a government they detested.—A man who was condemned to death was offered a pardon, on the condition that he would give evidence, which they knew he could give, after having actually given a part of his testimony, retracted it in open court; his wife, who was strongly attached to her husband, having prayed him on her knees, with tears, that he would be hanged rather than give evidence. The house burst out into a loud and general LAUGH!!!

Here was an heroic woman who leaves the wife of Brutus and of Poelus far behind her. If this extraordinary and shockingly affecting scene had taken place in the Congress of the United States of America, would it have excited LAUGHTER, or deep commisseration? Greater men than members of parliament, can laugh at misery. See what Junius says of king George the 3d and Chancellor York.There is another Irish anecdote worth relating.—During the troubles in Ireland a Boy 16 years old was seized by the military, who demanded of him to whom he belonged. He refused to tell. They tied him up to the halberts, and he endured a severe whipping without confessing whom he served. At length his sister, who was about 18, unable to endure the sight of his torture any longer, run to the officer and told him that he was in the service of Mr. —— a suspected man. The brave boy damned his sister for a blabbing b— for now said he the cause of Ireland is betrayed and ruined. Here are traits of Spartan virtues, that a modern British house of commons are past comprehending. A stronger proof of debasement cannot well be imagined in the Senate of England.

We passed by Sheerness, and, in our passage to the Nore, came near several hulks filled with convicts. We soon came along side the Leyden, an old Dutch 64, fitted up with births, eight feet by six, so as to contain six persons; but they were nearly all filled by prisoners who came before us, so that we were obliged to shirk wherever we could.

We found the captain of the Leyden very much such a man as the commander of the Malabar. Our allowance of food was as short as he could make it, and our liquor ungenerous. He said we were a damn set of rebel yankees that lived too well, which made us saucy. The first lieutenant was a kind and humane gentleman, but his captain was the reverse. He would hear no complaints, and threatened to put the bearer of them in irons.

The countenance, and whole form of this man was indicative of malice; his very step was that of an abrupt and angry tyrant. His gloomy visage was that of an hardened jailor; and he bore towards us the same sort of affection which we experienced from the refugees in Nova Scotia.—He caused a marine to be most severely flogged for selling one of the prisoners a little tobacco, which he saved out of his own allowance. The crew were forbidden to speak with any of us; but, when they could with safety, they described him to be the most odious of tyrants, and the most malicious of men. They said he never appeared pleased only when his men were suffering the agonies of the boatswain's lashes. In this he resembled the demons among the damned.

Upon calling over our names, and parading ourselves before captain Davie, we could discover, in a second, the harsh temper of the man. We at length weighed anchor, passed a fleet of men of war, and in a few days arrived in Plymouth harbor. The captain went immediately on shore and left the command to his worthy and humane lieutenant. The next day a great many boats came off to us filled with Cyprian dames. They were, generally, healthy, rosy looking lasses. Their number increased every hour, until there were as many on board of us as there were men. In short, every man who paid the waterman half a crown had a wife; so that the ship, belonging to the bulwark of our religion, exhibited such a scene as is described by the navigators, who have visited the South-Sea Islands. We read, with surprise and pity, the conduct of the female sex, when European ships visit the islands in the Pacific ocean;[O] and we are unwilling to give credit to all we read, because we, Americans, never fail to annex the idea of modesty to that of a woman; for female licentiousness is very rarely witnessed in the new world. This has rendered the accounts of navigators, in a degree, incredible; but we see the same thing in the ports of England—a land of Christians—renowned for its bishops and their church, and for moral writings and sermons, and for their bible societies, and religious institutions, and for their numerous moral essays, and chaste poetical writings. Yes, Christian reader! in this religious island, whereof George the 3d is king, and Charlotte the queen, the young females crowd the prison ships, and take for husbands the ragged American prisoners, provided they can get a few shillings by it! What are we to think of the state of society in England, when two or three sisters leave the house of their parents, and pass a week on board of a newly arrived ship? What can be the sentiments of the daughters? What the feelings of their mothers, their fathers, and their brothers? In the South Sea Islands, young females know not what modesty means; neither that nor chastity is a virtue in those regions.[O] But it is not quite so in England; there this lewd conduct is a mark of debasement, depravity and vice. The sea-ports of England, and the streets of her capital, and, indeed, of all her large cities are filled with handsome women, who offer themselves as wives to men they never saw before, for a few shillings; and yet this is the country of which our reverend doctors, from the pulpit, assure us, contains more religion and morality than any other of the same number of inhabitants; nay, more, our governor has proclaimed it to the world over, as being the very "bulwark of the religion we profess." If cruelty to prisoners, cruelty to their own soldiers, if kidnapping their mechanics, by press gangs, if shocking barbarity be exercised towards prisoners, and if open, shameless lewdness, mark and disgrace their sea-ports, their capital, and all their large cities, are the modest and correct people, inhabiting the towns and villages of the United States, to be affronted by being told publicly, that they have less religion, less morality than the people of England? How long shall we continue to be abused by folly and presumption? We, Americans, are yet a modest, clean, and moral people; as much so as the Swiss in Europe; and we feel ourselves offended, and disgusted when our blind guides tell us to follow the example of the English in their manners, and sexual conduct. Could I allow myself to particularise the conduct of the fair sex, who crowd on board every recently arrived ship, and who swarm on the shores, my readers would confess that few scenes of the kind could exceed it. The freedom of the American press will give to posterity a just picture of British morals, in the reigns of George the 3d and 4th.

While laying in Plymouth harbor, we received the news of the capture of the City of Washington; and the burning of its public buildings with the library. The burning of the public buildings and the library of books at Washington has been execrated by all the civilized world. The British are famous, or rather infamous for this barbarous mode of warfare. We find this passage in Captain John Knox's historical Journal of the Campaigns in North America in 1758—"Brigadier Wolfe has been also successful at Gaspe, and the N. N. E. parts of this province, (Nova Scotia) he has burned, among other settlements a most valuable one called Mount St. Louis: the intendant of the place offered 150,000 livres to ransom that town and its environs, which were nobly rejected: all their magazines of corn, dried fish, barrelled eels, and other provisions which they had for themselves, and other provisions for Quebec market, were all destroyed. Wherever he went with his troops desolation followed."—And this, reader, was the glorious General Wolfe, whom his barbarous nation, and our own fools have extolled to the skies in marble monuments, and his sons. Cockburn was nothing compared with this immortal plunderer and burner of villages and destroyer of the provisions laid up for the men, women and children of the French settlements in Arcadia. General Wolfe perpetrated this savage deed in the latter end of November, 1758, when the wretched inhabitants had a long and dreary winter before them. But Wolfe and Ross were punished, by the just avenger.

"Capt. M'Curdie was killed by the falling of a tree on the 30th, and Lieut. Hazen commands at present, who returned last night from a scout up this river: he went to St. Ann's and burnt 147 dwelling houses, 2 mass-houses, besides all their barns, stables, out-houses, granaries, &c. He returned down the river about —— where he found a house in a thick forest, with a number of cattle, horses and hogs; these he destroyed. There was fire in the chimney; the people were gone off into the woods; he pursued, killed and scalped six men, brought in four, with two women and three children; he returned to the house, set it on fire, threw the cattle into the flames, and arrived safe with his prisoners."—from page 230 of Captain Knox's Historical Journal of Campaigns in North America from 1756 to 1760. This work in two 4to. vol. is dedicated by permission to Lieutenant General Sir Jeffrey Amherst, and printed in London by Dodsley, 1769. It has for its motto ne quid falsi, dicere audeat, ne quid veri non audeat.

Every body around us believed that America was conquered, and the war over. After we had read the account in the newspaper, the Lieutenant came down among us, and talked with us on the event; and asked us if we did not think that America would now submit and make peace on such terms as Great Britain should propose? We all told him with one voice, no! no! and that the possession of the whole sea-coast could not produce that effect. We explained to him the situation of Washington; and described the half built city; and soon convinced him that the capture of Washington, was by no means an event of half the importance of the capture of Albany, or New-York, or Baltimore. We all agreed that it would make a great sound in England, and throughout Europe, but that it was, in fact, of little consequence to the United States. Why should a republican weep at the burning of a palace?About a week after we entered Plymouth harbor, two hundred of us were drafted to be sent to Dartmoor Prison, instead of being sent, as we expected, to America.

We were conveyed in boats, and saw, as we passed, a number of men of war on the stocks; and, among others, the Lord Vincent, pierced for 120 guns. One of our prisoners told the lieutenant that he was in that battle with Lord St. Vincent, and of course helped him gain the victory, and here he was now sailing by a most noble ship, (built in honour of that famous admiral) on his way to a doleful prison! This man had been pressed on board a British man of war, and was given up as such; but instead of being sent home as he ought, he was detained a prisoner of war, and yet this unfortunate man exposed his life in fighting for the British off Cape St. Vincents, as much as the noble Lord himself. Such is the difference of rewards in this chequered world!

My mind was too much oppressed with the melancholy prospect of Dartmoor prison, to notice particularly the gallant show of ships; and the beautiful scenery which the dock and bay of Plymouth afforded. When we landed a short distance from the dock, we were received by a file of soldiers, or rather two files, between which we marched on to prison. This was the first time we touched the soil of England with our feet, after laying under its shores nearly a year. It excited singular and pleasant sensations to be once more permitted to walk on the earth, although surrounded by soldiers and going to prison. The old women collected about us with their cakes and ale, and as we all had a little money we soon emptied their jugs and baskets; and their cheering beverage soon changed our sad countenances; and as we marched on we cheered each other. Our march drew to the doors and windows the enchanting sight of fair ladies; compared with our dirty selves, they looked like angels peeping out of Heaven; and yet they were neither handsomer, or neater than our sweethearts and sisters in our own dear country.

After we left the street, we found the road extremely dusty, which rendered it very unpleasant in walking close to each other. Before we got half way to the prison, there was a very heavy shower of rain, so that by the time we arrived there we looked as if we had been wallowing in the mud. Our unfeeling conductors marched us nine miles before they allowed us to rest; never once considering how unfit we were, from our long confinement, for travelling. Where we were allowed to stop, a butt of beer was placed in a cart for sale. Had British prisoners been marching through New-England, a butt of beer, or good cider would have been placed for them free of all expense; but Old England is not New-England by a great deal, whatever Governor Strong may think of his adorable country of kings, bishops and missionary societies.[P] Here a fresh escort of soldiers relieved those who brought us from Plymouth. The commanding officer of this detachment undertook to drive us from the beer-cart before all of us had a taste of it; he rode in among us, and flourished his sword, with a view to frighten us; but we refused to stir till we were ready, and some of our company called him a damned lobster backed ——, for wishing to drive us away before every one had his drink. The man was perplexed, and knew not what to do. At last the booby did what he ought to have done at first—forced the beer-seller to drive off his cart. But it is the fate of British officers of higher rank than this one, to think and act at last of that which they ought to have thought, and acted upon at first. They are no match for the yankees, in contrivance, or in execution. This beer barrel is an epitome of all their conduct in their war with America. What old woman put the idea into this officer's head I know not; but it is a fact, as soon as the beer barrel was driven off, we were all ready to march off too! And few companies of vagabonds in England ever marched off to prison in better spirits; we cheered one another, and laughed at our profound leader, until we came in sight of the black, bleak, and barren moor, without a solitary bush or blade of grass. Some of our prisoners swore that we had marched the whole length of England, and got into Scotland. We all agreed that it was not credible that such a hideous, barren spot could be any where found in England.

Our old men-of-wars-men suffered the most. Many of these had not set their feet on the earth for seven years, and they had lost in a measure, the natural operation of their feet and legs. These naval veterans loitered behind, attended by a guard. In ascending a hill we were some distance from the main body, and by turning a corner the rear was concealed from the van. Two young men took advantage of this, and jumped over a wall, and lay snug under it; but being observed, the guard fired, which alarmed those in front, when some soldiers pursued them, and seeing the impossibility of escaping, the young men jumped over the wall again, and mixed in with their companions without their being able to identify their persons. Our driver was extremely perplexed and alarmed at our daring attempts.

On crawling up the long and ragged hill, we became wearied, and refused to walk so fast as did the guard. No prudent officer would have driven men on as we were driven. We should have rested every two or three miles.—The sun was sinking below the horizon when we gained the top of the hill which commanded a view of Dartmoor prison. We passed through a small collection of houses called Princetown, where were two inns. The weather was disagreeable after the shower, and we saw the dark-hued prisons, whose sombre and doleful aspect chilled our blood. Yonder, cried one of our companions, is the residence of four thousand five hundred men, and in a few minutes we shall add to the number of its wretches. Others said, in that place will be sacrificed the aspiring feelings of youth, and the anxious expectations of relatives. There, said I, shall we bury all the designs of early emulation. I never felt disheartened before. I shed tears when I thought of home, and of my wretched situation, and I cursed the barbarity of a people among whom we were driven more like hogs than fellow men and Christians. I had weathered adverse gales with fortitude; and never flinched amidst severities. "A taught bowstring," was always my motto; but here I gave way for a moment, to despair, and wished the string to snap asunder and end my misery; for I had not even the consolation of a criminal going to execution to brace up the cord of life and inspire hope beyond the grave. The idea of lingering out a wretched existence in a doleful prison, dying by piece-meals, my flesh wasting by hunger, my frame exhausting by thirst, and my spirits broken down by a tyrant, and by jostling with misfortunes, I could not avoid. If death, instead of knocking at my prison door, would enter it at once, I would thank the goal deliverer. I am now comforted with the conviction, that nothing but an early religious education could have preserved me at this, and some other times of my misery, from destroying myself.

We soon arrived at the gates of this very extensive prison, and were admitted into the first yard, for it had several. We there answered to the call of our names; and at length passed through the iron gates to prison No. 7. We requested the turnkey to take in our baggage, as it contained our bedding; but it was neglected, and rained on during the night; for on this bleak and drizzly mountain there are not more than ninety fair days in the year. It took us several days to dry our duds, for they merited not the name of baggage.

The moment we entered the dark prison, we found ourselves jammed in with a multitude; one calling us to come this way, another that; some halloing, swearing and cursing, so that I did not know, for a moment, but what I had died through fatigue and hard usage, and was actually in the regions of the damned. Oh, what a horrid night I here passed!

The floors of this reproach to Old England were of stone, damp and mouldy, and smelling like a transport. Here we had to lay down and sleep after a most weary march of 15 miles. What apology can be made for not having things prepared for our comfort? Those who have been enslaved in Algiers found things very different. The food and the lodging were in every respect superior among the Mahometans, than among these boasting Christians, and their general treatment infinitely more humane; some of our companions had been prisoners among the Barbary powers, and they describe them as vastly more considerate than the English.

After passing a dreadful night, we next day had opportunity of examining our prison. It had iron stanchions, like those in stables for horses, on which hammocks were hung. The windows had iron gratings, and the bars of the doors seemed calculated to resist the force of men, and of time. These things had a singular effect on such of us, as had, from our childhood, associated the idea of liberty with the name of Old England; but a man must travel beyond the smoke of his own chimney to acquire correct ideas of the characters of men, and of nations.—We however saw the worst of it at first; for every day our residence appeared less disagreeable.

We arrived here the 11th of October; and our lot was better than that of thirty of our companions, who came on a little after us from Plymouth. These 30 men were sent from the West-Indies, and had no descriptive lists, and it was necessary that these men should be measured and described as to stature, complexion, &c.—Capt. Shortland therefore ordered them to be shut up in the prison No. 6. This was a more cold, dreary and comfortless place than No. 7. Their bed was nothing but the cold damp stones; and being in total darkness they dare not walk about. These 30 men had been imprisoned at Barbadoes; and they had supposed that when they arrived at this famous birth place of liberty, they should not be excluded from all her blessings. They had suffered much at Barbadoes, and they expected a different treatment in England; but alas! Captain Shortland at once dissipated the illusion and shewed himself what Britons really are. The next morning they were taken up to Captain Shortland's office to be described, and marked, and numbered. One of the thirty, an old and respectable Captain of an American ship, complained of his usage, and told Shortland that he had been several times a prisoner of war, but never experienced such barbarous treatment before. The man only replied that their not having their beds was the fault of the Turnkey; as if that could ever be admitted as an excuse among military men. [ Finger For a minute description of Dartmoor Prison see the engraving.]

Dartmoor is a dreary spot of itself; it is rendered more so by the westerly winds blowing from the Atlantic ocean, which have the same quality and effects as the easterly wind, blowing from the same ocean, are known to have in New-England. This high land receives the sea mist and fogs; and they settle on our skins with a deadly dampness. Here reigns, more than two thirds of the year, "the Scotch mist," which is famous to a proverb. This moor affords nothing for subsistence or pleasure. Rabbits cannot live on it. Birds fly from it; and it is inhabited, according to the belief of the most vulgar, by ghosts and dÆmons; to which will now doubtless be added, the troubled ghosts of the murdered American prisoners; and hereafter will be distinctly seen the tormented spirit of the bloody Capt. Shortland, clanking his chains, weeping, wailing and gnashing his teeth! It is a fact that the market people have not sufficient courage to pass this moor in the night. They are always sure to leave Princetown by day light, not having the resolution of passing this dreary, barren, and heaven-abandoned spot in the dark. Before the bloody massacre of our countrymen, this unhallowed spot was believed, by common superstition, to belong to the Devil.

Certain it is, that the common people in this neighbourhood were impressed with the notion that Dartmoor was a place less desirable to mortals, and more under the influence of evil spirits, than any other spot in England. I shall only say, that I found it, take it all in all, a less disagreeable prison than the ships; the life of a prudent, industrious, well behaved man might here be rendered pretty easy, for a prison life, as was the case with some of our own countrymen, and some Frenchmen; but the young, the idle, the giddy, fun making youth generally reaped such fruit as he sowed. Gambling was the wide inlet to vice and disorder; and in this Frenchmen took the lead. These men would play away every thing they possessed beyond the clothes to keep them decent. They have been known to game away a month's provision; and when they had lost it, would shirk and steal for a month after for their subsistence. A man with some money in his pocket might live pretty well through the day in Dartmoor Prison; there being shops and stalls where every little article could be obtained; but added to this we had a good and constant market; and the bread and meat supplied by government were not bad; and as good I presume as that given to British prisoners by our own government; had our lodging and prison-house been equal to our food, I never should have complained. The establishment was blessed with a good man for a physician, named M'Grath, an Irishman, a tall, lean gentleman, with one eye, but of a warm and good heart. We never shall cease to admire his disposition, nor forget his humanity.

The Frenchmen and our prisoners did not agree very well. They quarrelled and sometimes fought, and they carried their differences to that length, that it was deemed proper to erect a wall to separate them, like so many game cocks, in different yards. When this Depot was garrisoned by Highlanders, these Scotchmen took part with the Americans against the French. Here the old presbyterian principle of affinity operated against the papal man of sin. It cannot be denied that there is a deep rooted hatred between the Briton and the Frenchman.

While at Dartmoor Prison, there came certain French officers wearing the white cockade; their object seemed to be to converse with the prisoners, and to persuade them to declare for Louis 18th; but they could not prevail; the Frenchmen shouted vive l'Empereur! Their attachment to Bonaparte was remarkably strong. He must have been a man of wonderful powers to attach all ranks so strongly to him. Before the officers left the place, these Frenchmen hoisted up a little dog with the white cockade tied under his tail. Soon after this the French officers, who appeared to be men of some consideration, left the prison.

I have myself had nothing particular to complain of; but the prisoners here speak of Captain Shortland as the most detestable of men; and they bestow on him the vilest and most abusive epithets. The prisoners began to dig a hole under prison No. 6, and had made considerable progress towards the outer wall, when a man, who came from Newburyport betrayed them to Capt. Shortland. This man had, it was said, changed his name in America, on account of forgery.—Be that as it may, he was sick at Chatham where we paid him every attention, and subscribed money for procuring him the means of comfort. Shortland gave him two guineas, and sent him to Ireland; or the prisoners would have hanged him for a traitor to his countrymen. The hypocritical scoundrel's excuse was conscience and humanity; for he told Shortland that we intended to murder him, and every one else in the neighbourhood. Shortland said he knew better; that "he was fearful of our escaping, but never had any apprehensions of personal injury from an American; that they delighted in plaguing him and contriving the means of escape; but he never saw a cruel or murderous disposition in any of them."

The instant Capt. Shortland discovered the attempt to escape by digging a subterraneous passage, he drove all the prisoners into the yard of No. 1, making them take their baggage with them; and in a few days after, when he thought they might have begun another hole, but had not time to complete it, he moved them into another yard and prison, and so he kept moving them from one prison to the other, and took great credit to himself for his contrivance; and in this way he harrassed our poor fellows until the day before our arrival at the prison. He had said that he was resolved not to suffer them to remain in the same building and yard more than ten days at a time; and this was a hardship they resolved not voluntarily to endure; for the removal of hammocks and furniture and every little article, was an intolerable grievance; and the more the prisoners appeared pestered, the greater was the enjoyment of Captain Shortland. It was observed that whenever, in these removals, there were much jamming and squeezing and contentions for places, it gave this man pleasure; but that the ease and comfort of the prisoners gave him pain. The united opinion of the prisoners was, that he was a very bad hearted man. He would often stand on the military walk, or in the market square, whenever there was any difference, or tumult, and enjoy the scene with malicious satisfaction. He appeared to delight in exposing prisoners in rainy weather, without sufficient reason. This has sent many of our poor fellows to the grave, and would have sent more had it not been for the benevolence and skill of Dr. M'Grath. We thought Miller and Osmore skilled in tormenting; but Shortland exceeded them both by a devilish deal. The prisoners related to me several instances of cool and deliberate acts of torment, disgraceful to a government of Christians; for the character and general conduct of this commander could not be concealed from them. He wore the British colours on his house, and acted under this emblem of sovereignty.

It was customary to count over the prisoners twice a week; and after the sweepers had brushed out the prisons, the guard would send to inform the commander that they were all ready for his inspection. On these occasions, Shortland very seldom omitted staying away as long as he possibly could, merely to vex the prisoners; and they at length expressed their sense of it; for he would keep them standing until they were weary. At last they determined not to submit to it; and after waiting a sufficient time, they made a simultaneous rush forward, and so forced their passage back into their prison-house. To punish this act, Shortland stopped the country people from coming into market for two days. At this juncture we arrived; and as the increase of numbers, increased our obstinacy, the Captain began to relax; and after that, he came to inspect the prisoners, as soon as they were paraded for that purpose. It was easy to perceive that the prisoners had, in a great measure, conquered the hard hearted, and vindictive Capt. Shortland.

The roof of the prison to which we were consigned, was very leaky; and it rained on this dreary mountain almost continually; place our beds wherever we could, they were generally wet. We represented this to Capt. Shortland; and to our complaint was added that of the worthy and humane Dr. M'Grath; but it produced no effect; so that to the ordinary miseries of a prison, we, for a long time endured the additional one of wet lodgings, which sent many of our countrymen to their graves.

We owe much to the humanity of Dr. M'Grath, a very worthy man, and a native of Ireland. Was M'Grath commander of this Depot, there would be no difficulty with the prisoners. They would obey him through affection and respect; because he considers us rational beings, with minds cultivated like his own, and susceptible of gratitude, and habituated to do, and receive acts of kindness; whereas the great Capt. Shortland considers us all as a base set of men, degraded below the rank of Englishmen, towards whom nothing but rigor should be extended. He acted on this false idea; and has like his superiors reaped the bitter fruit of his own ill judged conduct. He might, by kind and respectful usage, have led the Americans to any thing just and honorable; but it was not in his power, nor all the Captains in his nation, to force them to acknowledge and quietly submit to his tyranny.

Dr. M'Grath was a very worthy man, and every prisoner loved him; but M'Farlane, his assistant, a Scotchman, was the reverse; in dressing, or bleeding, or in any operation, he would handle a prisoner with a brutal roughness, that conveyed the idea that he was giving way to the feelings of revenge, or national hatred.[Q] Cannot a Scotchman testify his unnatural loyalty to the present reigning family of England without treating an American with cruelty and contempt.

Dr. Dobson, the superintendant physician of the Hospital-ship at Chatham, was a very worthy and very skilful gentleman. We, Americans, ought never to forget his goodness towards us. Some of us esteem him full as high as Dr. M'Grath, and some more highly. They are both however, worthy men, and deserve well of this country. There is nothing men vary more in than in their opinion of and attachment to physicians. Dobson and M'Grath deserve medals of gold, and hearts of gratitude, for their kind attention to us all.

CHAPTER IV.

The establishment of prison-ships at Chatham is broken up, and the last of the prisoners were marched from Plymouth to this place, the 30th of November. They were marched from that place to this, in one day, half leg deep in mud. Some lost their shoes; others, to preserve them, took them off, and carried them in their hands. When they arrived here, they were indeed objects of pity; nevertheless they were immediately shut up in a cold, damp prison, without any bedding, or any of the ordinary conveniences, until they could be examined and described in the commander's books; after which they were permitted to mix with the rest of their countrymen. We found many of them, the day after their arrival, unable to walk, by reason of their too long protracted march, in a very bad road. A prudent drover would not have risked his cattle by driving them through such a road in a few hours. Such a thing never was done in America, with British prisoners.

I find all the prisoners here deeply exasperated against Captain Shortland, and too much prejudiced to hear any thing in his favor. I presume they have reason for it. As I have but just arrived, I have had but little opportunity of seeing and judging his conduct. Instead of his being a bad hearted man, I am disposed to believe that the fault is in his understanding and education. I suspect that he is a man of narrow views; that he has not sufficient information, or capacity, to form a right judgment of the peculiar cast and character of the people under his charge. He has never, perhaps, considered, that these descendants of Englishmen, the free inhabitants of the new world, have been born and brought up in, if we may speak so, Indian freedom; on which freedom has been superinduced an education purely democratic, in schools where degrading punishments are unknown; where if a schoolmaster exercised the severity common in English and German schools, they would tie the master's hands with his own bell-rope. He has never considered that our potent militia choose their own officers; and that the people choose all their officers and leaders from among themselves; and that there are very few men indeed, none, perhaps, in New-England, who would refuse to shake hands with a decent yeoman. It is probable that Captain Shortland has never once reflected that there are fewer grades of men between the lowest white man under his charge and the highest in America, than there are between him and the highest ranks in England. He has never considered the similarity between the ancient Roman republican, and the republican of the United States of America; nor why both republics deemed it abhorrent to inflict stripes on their citizens. Shortland had not sufficient sagacity to discover that playfulness, fun and frolic, formed a strong trait in the character of the American sailor and militia man, for they had hardly become, what is called in Europe, soldiers; drilling and discipline had not obliterated the free and easy carriage of a bold and fearless Yankee.

Sir Guy Carlton, afterwards Lord Dorchester, was Governor of Canada, during the revolutionary war, and proved himself a wise man. He penetrated the American character, and treated the American prisoners captured in Canada, accordingly; and by doing so, he came near breaking up our army; for our prisoners were softened and subdued by his kindness and humanity; he sent them home well clothed, and well fed, and most of them declared they never would fight against Sir Guy Carlton. He knew the American character thoroughly; and was convinced that harshness and severity would have no other effect than to excite revenge and hatred. On the other hand, our prisoners could have no very great respect for a captain, an officer, which they themselves created by their votes, at pleasure; add to this, that several of the prisoners had the title of captain in their own country. Had the commander of Dartmoor Prison been an old woman, the Americans would have respected her sex and years, and obeyed her commands; but they despised and hated Shortland, for his deficiency of head, heart, and education; from all which originated those sad events which have disgraced one nation, and exasperated the other forever. Shortland may be excused, when it is considered that England lost her colonies by not studying the American character; and the same inattention to the natural operations of the human heart, is now raising America gradually up to be the first naval power on the terraqueous globe. And thus much for contempt.

There was an order that all lights should be put out by eight o'clock at night, in every prison; and it was doubtless proper; but this order was carried into execution with a rigor bordering on barbarity. On the least glimpse of light discoverable in the prison, the guard would fire in amongst us; and several were shot. Several Frenchmen were wounded. This story was told—that a French captain of a privateer, the night after he first came, was undressing himself, by his hammock, when the sentry cried, "Out lights!" The Frenchman not understanding English, kept it burning; the sentry fired, and scattered his brains over the place; but this did not occur while I was there; but this I aver, that several were shot, and I wondered that many were not killed. I was shocked at the barbarity of the order.

About this time, the Derbyshire militia were relieved by a regiment of regulars, who had been in Spain. They were chiefly Irish; and treated us better than we were treated by the militia. They had infinitely more generosity and manliness, as well as more intelligence. They acted plays in the cock loft of No. 5. They have good music, and tolerable scenery; and charge six pence for admission, to defray the expense. This is a very pleasant way of making the British soldier forget his slavery; and the American prisoner his bondage. These generous hearted Irishmen would sometimes give us a song in honour of our naval victories. O, how we did long to be at liberty, when we heard songs in honour of the Constitution and of the United States![R]

Some men are about to be sent off to Dartmouth, to return to the United States; this has occasioned us to write letters to our friends and connexions; but Captain Shortland is very jealous on this head; he will not allow us to write to any of the neighbouring country people. The English dare not trust their own people, much more the American captives.

This is the latter part of the month of November; and the weather has been generally rainy, dark, dismal and foggy. Sometimes we could hardly see the sentinels on the walls. Sorrow and sadness within; gloom, fog, or drizzly rain without. If the commissioners at Ghent do not soon make peace, or establish an exchange, we shall be lost to our country, and to hope. The newspapers now and then enliven us with the prospect of peace. We are told that growing dissentions at Vienna will induce Great Britain to get rid of her transatlantic enemy, in order to combat those nearer home. Whenever we see in the newspapers an article captioned "News from Ghent," we devour it with our eyes; but instead of substance, generally find it empty wind. We are wearied out. I speak for myself; and I hear the same expression from others. Winter is commencing to add to our miseries. Poor clothing, miserable lodging, poor, and inadequate food, long dismal nights, darkness, foul air, bad smells, the groans of the sick, and distressed; the execrations and curses of the half distracted prisoner, the unfeeling conduct of our keepers and commander—all, all, all conspire to fill up the cup of our sorrow; but we hope that one drop will not be added after it is brim full; far then it will run over, and death will follow!

December. Nothing new, or strange, worth recording; every day, and every night brings the same sad picture, the same heart sinking impressions. Until now, I could not believe that misfortune and confinement, with a deprivation of the accustomed food, ease and liberty enjoyed in our own dear country, could have wrought such a change in the human person. The young have not only acquired wrinkles, but appear dried up, and contracted in body and mind. I can easily conceive that a few generations of the human species, passed in such misery and confinement, would produce a race of beings, very inferior to what we now are. The sailor, however, suffers less in appearance than we landsmen; for my short cruise in a privateer, does not entitle me to the name of a sailor. How often have I reflected on my rash adventure! To leave the house of plenty, surrounded with every thing comfortable, merely to change the scene, and see the watery world. To quit my paternal roof, half educated, to dress wounds, and cut off the limbs of those who might be mutilated, was about as mad a scheme as ever giddy youth engaged in. But repining will do no good. I must not despair, but make the best of my hard lot. If I have lost a portion of ordinary education, I have passed the severer school of misfortune; and should I live to return to America, I must strive to turn these hardships to the best advantage. He who has not met adversity, has not seen the most profitable part of human life.

There were times, during my captivity, especially in the long and cheerless nights, when home, and all its endearments, rushed on my mind; and when I reflected on my then situation, I burst into tears, and wept aloud. It was then I was fearful that I should lose my reason, and never recover it. Many a time have I thought myself into a fever, my tongue covered with a furr, and my brain seemed burning up within my skull. It was company that preserved me. Had I been alone, I should have been raving distracted. I had committed no crime; I was in the service of my country, in a just and necessary war, declared by the people of the United States, through their representatives in Congress, and proclaimed to the world by our supreme executive officer, James Madison. On this subject, I cannot help remarking the ignorance of the people of England. In their newspapers, and in their conversation, you will constantly find this idea held up, that the war was the work of Mr. Madison and Bonaparte. This shows their ignorance of the affairs of our country. They are too ignorant to talk with on the constitution of our government; and on the character and conduct of our administration. It is no wonder that they are astonished at our victories, by sea and by land, when they are so totally ignorant of our country, of its endless resources, of its invincible republican spirit, of its strong government, founded on the affections of the people; and of the vigor, and all commanding intellect that pervades and directs the whole.

On the 28th of this month, December, 1815, the news arrived here that a treaty of peace was signed the 24th instant, at Ghent. After a momentary stupor, acclamations of joy burst forth from every mouth. It flew like wild fire through the prison; and peace! peace! peace! echoed throughout these dreary regions. To know that we were soon to return home, produced a sensation of joy beyond the powers of expression! Some screamed, hollowed, danced, sung, and capered, like so many Frenchmen. Others stood in amaze, with their hands in their pockets, as if doubtful of its truth. In by far the greater part, however, it gave a glow of health and animation to the wan cheek of the half sick, and, hitherto, cheerless prisoner. Some unforgiving spirits hail the joyful event as bringing them nearer the period of revenge, which they longed to exercise on some of their tyrannical keepers. Many who had meditated escape, and had hoarded up every penny for that event, now brought it forth to spend in celebration of their regular deliverance. Even hard hearted Shortland appeared to bend from the haughty severity of his jailor-like manner, and can now speak to an American as if he were of the same species with himself. He has even allowed us to hoist our national colors on these prisons; and appears not to be offended at the sound of mirth and hilarity, which now echoes throughout these extensive mansions. I say extensive, for I suppose the whole of these prisons, yards, hospitals, stores and houses, are spread over twenty acres of ground. [See the plate.]

We calculate that the ratification of the treaty by the President of the United States, will arrive in England by the 1st of April, at which period there will not be an American left in this place. The very thoughts of it keep us from sleeping. Amidst this joy for peace, and for the near prospect of our seeing, once more, our dear America, there is not a man among us but feels disposed to try again the tug of war with the Britons, should they impress and flog our seamen, or instigate the savages of the wilderness to scalp and tomahawk the inhabitants of our frontiers. This war, and this harsh imprisonment, will add vigor to our arms, should the people of America again declare, by their representatives in congress, that individual oppression, or the nation's wrongs, render it expedient to sail, or march against a foe, whose tender mercies are cruelty. We can tell our countrymen, when we return home, what the Britons are, as their prisoners can tell the English what the Americans are.—"By their fruits shall ye know them."

We invite our readers to peruse the historical journal of the campaigns of 1759, by Capt. Knox, where the immortal Wolfe cut such a glorious figure in burning the houses, and plundering the wretched peasantry of Canada. He says, "The detachments of regulars and rangers, under Major Scott and Captain Goreham, who went down the river on the 1st instant, are returned. They took a great quantity of black cattle and sheep; an immense deal of plunder, such as household stuff, books and apparel, burnt above eleven hundred houses, and destroyed several hundred acres of corn, beside some fisheries, and made sixty prisoners;"—and this just before winter! Have we, Americans, ever been guilty of such deeds? Yet we, Yankees, have been taught from our childhood to eulogize Wolfe, and Amherst, and Monckton, and to speak in raptures of the glorious war in 1759, when British soldiers joined the savages in scalping Frenchmen!

During this month, a number of prisoners have been sent to this prison from Plymouth. They came here from Halifax; they were principally seamen, taken out of prizes, which the English retook. They all make similar complaints of hard usage, bad and very scanty food, and no attention to their health or comfort. There are now, at this depot, about Twenty-Three Hundred and Fifty Americans, who were impressed, previously to the war, into the British service, by English ships and English press-gangs. They are the stoutest and most hardy looking men in the prison. This is easily accounted for. When the British go on board an American merchant ship to look for English sailors, they adopt one easy rule, viz.—they select the stoutest, most hardy, and healthy looking men, and swear that they are Englishmen. After they have selected one of these fine fellows, it is in vain that he produces his protection, or any other evidence of his American birth and citizenship.

We learn from these seamen, that as soon as conveyed on board the British men of war, they are examined as to the length of time they have been at sea; and according to the knowledge and experience they appear to have, they are stationed; and if they grumble at the duty assigned them, they are called mutinous rascals, and threatened with the cat; the warrant officers are charged to watch them closely, lest they should attempt to pervert the crew, and to prevent them from sending letters from the ship to their friends. Should any letters be detected on them, the sailors are charged, on pain of the severest punishment, to deliver them to some of the commissioned officers.

If they complained of their hard fate to their messmates, they were liable to punishment, and if they attempted to regain their liberty, and were detected, they were stripped, tied up, and most cruelly and disgracefully whipped, like a negro slave. Can any thing be conceived more humiliating to the feelings of men, born and brought up as we all are? Can we ever be cordial friends with such a people, even in time of peace? Will ever a man of our country, or his children after him, forgive this worse than Algerine treatment?

Several of the most intelligent of these impressed men related to me the particulars of the treatment, they, at various times, received; and I had committed them to paper; but they are too mean, low and disgusting to be recorded. The pitiful evasions, unworthy arts, and even falsehoods of some captains of his Britannic majesty's line of battle ships, when a seaman produced his protection; or offered to prove his nativity, or identify his person, as marked in his descriptive roll, were such, as to make me bless my stars that I did not belong to their service. There were, however, some instances of noble and generous conduct; which came up to the idea we, once, entertained of English honor, before the solid bullion of the English naval character was beaten into such thin, such very thin gold leaf, as to gild so many thousands of their epauletted seamen. The officers of the Poictiers were spoken of with respect; and, by what I could learn, the smaller the vessel, the worse treatment was experienced by our prisoners, and impressed seamen; your little-big-men being always the greatest tyrants. Among these small fry of the mistress of the ocean, "you damned Yankee rascal," was a common epithet. Our own land officers had often to remark, when they came in contact with the British, especially in the night, as at Bridgewater, and at the repulse at Fort Erie, that the British colonels and other officers, were heard repeatedly to use expressions of this sort—"No quarter to the damned yankees!" "Form! Form! for the damned yankees are close upon us!" Colonel Drummond's last words, when he surmounted the rampart at Fort Erie, was in the like style of language. How many lives have these expressions of contempt cost the British!

Many of the impressed seamen now here, have told me, that they have been lashed to the gang-way, and most severely whipped, even to the extent of three dozen, for refusing to do, what the captain of a British man of war called "THEIR DUTY!" Some of these men have replied, "it is my duty to serve my own country; and fight against its enemies;" and for saying so, have been farther abused. Have ever the French, Spaniards, Portuguese, Italians, Germans, Dutch, Danes, Swedes, Russians, Prussians, Turks, or Algerines treated American citizens in this way? And yet our federalists can never bear to hear us speak, in terms of resentment, against "the bulwark of our religion." O, Caleb! Caleb! Thou hast a head and so has a beetle.[S]

We had all more or less money from the American government; and some of the impressed men brought money with them. This attracted the avaricious spirit of our neighbors; so that our market was filled, not only with vegetables, but animal food. There were also seen in our market, piles of broad cloth, boxes of hats, boots, shoes, and many other articles. The greatest pick-pockets of all were the Jews, with their watches, seals and trinkets, and bad books. A moral commander would have swept the prison yard clean of such vermin. The women who attend our market are as sharp as the Jews, and worse to deal with; for a sailor cannot beat them down as he can one of these swindling Israelites. Milk is cheap, only 4d. per gallon, but they know how to water it.

The language and phraseology of these market people are very rude. When puffing off the qualities of their goods, when they talk very fast, we can hardly understand them. They do not speak near so good English as our common market people do in America. The best of them use the pronoun he in a singular manner—as can he pay me? Can he change? For can you pay me? Or you change? I am fully of opinion with those who say that the American people taken collectively, as a nation, speak the English language with more purity than the Britons, taken collectively. Every man or boy of every part of the United States would be promptly understood by the men of letters in London; but every man and boy of Old England would not be promptly understood by the lettered men in the capital towns of America. Is it not the bible that has preserved the purity of our language in America? These English men and women do not speak with the grammatical correctness of our people. As to the Scotch, their barbarisms that are to be found even in print, are affrontive to the descendants of Englishmen. Where, among the white people of the United States, can we find such shocking barbarities as we hear from the common people of Scotland? And yet we find that the Prince Regent is at the head of an institution for perpetuating the unwritten language to the highlanders. We shall expect to hear of a similar undertaking, under the same patronage, for keeping alive the language of his dear allies, the Kickapoos and Pottowattomies!! for the language of slaves or savages, are the needed props of some of the thrones in Europe.

I am sorry to remark that the Christmas holy-days have been recently marked with no small degree of intoxication, and its natural consequence, quarrelling among the prisoners. The news of peace; and the expectation of being soon freed from all restraint, have operated to unsettle the minds of the most unruly, and to encourage riot. Drinking, carousing, and noise, with little foolish tricks, are now too common.—Some one took off a shutter, or blind, from a window of No. 6, and as the persons were not delivered up by the standing committee, Captain Shortland punished the whole, college fashion, by stopping the market, or as this great man was pleased wittily to call it, an embargo. At length the men were given up to Shortland, who put them in the black hole for ten days.

To be a cook is the most disagreeable and dangerous office at this depot. They are always suspected, watched and hated, from an apprehension that they defraud the prisoner of his just allowance. One was flogged the other day for skimming the fat off the soup. The grand Vizier's office at Constantinople, is not more dangerous than a cook's, at this prison, where are collected four or five thousand hungry American sons of liberty. The prisoners take it upon themselves to punish these pot-skimmers in their own way.We have in this collection of prisoners, a gang of hard-fisted fellows, who call themselves "THE ROUGH ALLIES." They have assumed to themselves the office of accuser, judge and executioner. In my opinion, they are as great villains as could be collected in the United States. They appear to have little principle, and as little humanity, and many of them are given up to every vice; and yet these ragamuffins have been allowed to hold the scale and rod of justice. These rough allies make summary work with the accused, and seldom fail to drag him to punishment. I am wearied out with such lawless anti-American conduct.

January 30th. The principal conversation among the most considerate is, when will the treaty be returned, ratified; for knowing the high character of our commissioners, none doubt but that the President and Senate will ratify, what they have approved. We are all in an uneasy, and unsettled state of mind; more so than before the news of peace. Before that news arrived, we had settled down in a degree of despair; but now we are preparing and planning our peaceable departure from this loathsome place.

I would ask the reader's attention to the conduct of Capt. Shortland, the commanding officer of this depot of prisoners, as well as to the conduct of the men under his charge, as the conduct and events of this period have led on to a tragedy that has filled our native land with mourning and indignation. I shall aim at truth and impartiality, and the reader may make such allowance as our situation may naturally afford, and his cool judgment suggest.

In the month of January, 1815, Captain Shortland commenced a practice of counting over the prisoners out of their respective prisons, in the cold, raw air of the yard, where we were exposed above an hour, unnecessarily to the severity of the weather. After submitting to this caprice of our keeper, for several mornings, in hopes he would be satisfied as to the accurate number of the men in prison, we all refused to go out again in wet and raw weather. Shortland pursued his usual method of stopping the market; but finding that it had no effect, he determined on using force; and sent his soldiers into the yard, and ordered them to drive the prisoners into the prison in the middle of the afternoon, whereas they heretofore remained out until the sun had set, and then they all went quietly into their dormitories. The regiment of regulars had been withdrawn, and a regiment of Somersetshire militia had taken their place, a set of stupid fellows, and generally speaking ignorant officers. The regiment of regulars were clever fellows, and Shortland was awed by their character; but he felt no awe, or respect, for these irregulars.

The prisoners told the soldiers that this was an unusual time of day for them to leave the yard; and that they would not tamely submit to such caprice. The soldiers could only answer by repeating their orders. More soldiers were sent for; but they took special care to assume a position to secure their protection. The soldiers began now to use force with their bayonets. All this time Shortland stood on the military walk with the major of the regiment, observing the progress of his orders. Our men stood their ground. On observing this opposition, Shortland became enraged; and ordered the major to give the word for the soldiers to fire. The soldiers were drawn up in a half circle, to keep them from scattering.

We were now hemmed in between No. 7, and the wall, that divided this from the yard of No. 4. The major then gave orders to the officer in the yard, to "charge bayonet." This did not occasion our prisoners to retreat; they rather advanced; and some of them told the soldiers, that if they pricked a single man, they would disarm them. Shortland was watching all these movements from behind the gate; and finding that he had not men enough to drive them in, drew his soldiers out of the yard. After this, the prisoners went into the prison of their own accord, when the turnkey sounded a horn.

These militia men have been somewhat intimidated by the threatenings of the "rough allies," before mentioned. These national guards thought they could drive us about like so many Frenchmen; but they have found their mistake. A man escaped from the black-hole, who had been condemned to remain in it during the war, for attempting to blow up a ship. The prisoners were determined to protect him; and when Shortland found that the prisoners would not betray him into his hands, he resorted to his usual embargo of the market; and sent his soldiers in after the prisoner; but he might as well have sought a needle in a hay-mow; for such was the difficulty of finding an individual among six thousand. They ransacked every birth, and lurking place, and passed frequently by the man without being able to identify him, as our fellow had disguised himself both in face, and in person. The prisoners mixed in so entirely with the soldiers, that the latter could not act, and were actually fearful of being disarmed. When these Somersetshire militia found that we were far from being afraid of them, they ceased to be insolent, and treated us with something like respect. There was a considerable degree of friendship between us and the late regiment of regulars, who were gentlemen, compared with these clumsy militia.

There are about four hundred and fifty negroes in prison No. 4; and this assemblage of blacks affords many curious anecdotes, and much matter for speculation. These blacks have a ruler among them whom they call king DICK. He is by far the largest, and I suspect the strongest man in the prison. He is six feet three inches in height, and proportionably large. This black Hercules commands respect, and his subjects tremble in his presence. He goes the rounds every day, and visits every birth to see if they are all kept clean. When he goes the rounds, he puts on a large bear-skin cap; and carries in his hand a huge club. If any of his men are dirty, drunken, or grossly negligent, he threatens them with a beating; and if they are saucy, they are sure to receive one. They have several times conspired against him, and attempted to dethrone him; but he has always conquered the rebels. One night several attacked him while asleep in his hammock; he sprang up and seized the smallest of them by his feet, and thumped another with him. The poor negro who had thus been made a beetle of, was carried next day to the hospital, sadly bruised, and provokingly laughed at. This ruler of the blacks, this king RICHARD the IVth, is a man of good understanding; and he exercises it to a good purpose. If any one of his color cheats, defrauds, or steals from his comrades, he is sure to be punished for it. Negroes are generally reputed to be thieves. Their faculties are commonly found to be inadequate to the comprehension of the moral system; and as to the Christian system, their notions of it, generally speaking, are a burlesque on every thing serious. The punishment which these blacks are disposed to inflict on one another for stealing, partakes of barbarity; and ought never to be allowed, where the whites have the control of them.—By a punishment called "cobbing," they have occasioned the glutÆus muscles to mortify.

Beside his majesty King Dick, these black prisoners have among them a Priest, who preaches every Sunday. He can read, and he gives good advice to his brethren; and his prayers are very much in the strain of what we have been used to hear at home. In the course of his education, he has learnt, it is said, to know the nature of crimes and punishments; for, it is said, that while on board the Crown Prince prison-ship at Chatham, he received a dozen lashes for stealing some clothing; but we must make allowance for stories; for preachers have always complained of the calumnies of their enemies. If his whole history was known and correctly narrated, he might be found a duly qualified preacher, to such a congregation as that of prison No. 4.

This black man has a good deal of art and cunning, and has drawn several whites into his church; and his performances have an imposing cast; and are often listened to with seriousness. He appears to have learnt his sermons and prayers from a diligent reading of good books; but as to the Christian system, the man has no more idea of it than he has of the New Jerusalem; but then his good sentences, delivered, frequently, with great warmth, and his string of good advice, given in the negro dialect, make altogether, a novelty, that attracts many to hear him; and he certainly is of service to the blacks; and it is a fact, that the officers have heard him hold forth, without any expressions of ridicule; while the majority of these miserable black people are too much depraved to pay any serious attention to his advice.

It is curious to observe the natural alliance between king Dick and this priest. Dick honors and protects him, while the priest inculcates respect and obedience to this Richard the 4th. Here we see the union of church and state in miniature. Who told this negro, that to maintain this influence, he must rally round the huge club of the strongest and most powerful man in this black gang of sinners? And who told king Dick that his nervous arm and massy club, were insufficient without the aid of the preacher of terror? Neither of them had read, or heard of Machiavel. Who taught this black orator, that the priesthood must seek shelter behind the throne, from the hostilities of reason? And who told "the rough allies," the Janisaries of this imperium in imperio, that they must assist and countenance both Dick and the priest? The science of government is not so deep and complicated a thing as king-craft and priest-craft would make us believe, since these rude people, almost deserving the name of a banditti, threw themselves into a sort of government, that is to be discerned in the early stages of every government. The love of power, of influence, and of distinction, is clearly discernible, even among the prisoners at Dartmoor. When I think of these things I am disposed to despise what is called education, which is, after all, but a wooden leg, a mere clumsy, unfeeling substitute for a live one, barely sufficient to keep a man out of the mud.

Beside king Dick, and Simon, the priest, there was another black divine, named John. He had been a servant of Edward, Duke of Kent, third son of the present king of England; on which account, black John assumed no small state and dignity. He left the service of his royal highness; and was found on board of an American ship, and was pressed from thence into a British man of war, where he served a year or two, in the station of captain's steward; but disliking the service, he claimed his release, as an American; and was sent with a number of other pressed men, to the prison ships at Chatham; and he came to this prison, with a number of other Africans. After king Dick, and Simon, the priest, black John was the next man of the most consequence among the negroes; and considering his family connections; and that he knew how to read and write, it is not much to be wondered at. John conceived that his influence with his royal highness was sufficient to encourage him to write to the Duke to get him set at liberty; who actually applied to the transport-board with that view; but they could not grant it. He received, however, a letter from Capt. Hervy, the Duke's secretary, on the subject, who added, that as he had been so unwise as to refuse to serve his majesty, he must suffer for his folly. We have been particular in this anecdote; and we request our readers to bear it in mind, when we shall come to contrast this prompt answer of the royal Duke to the letter of a negro, with the conduct of Mr. Beasley, our agent for prisoners. The prisoners themselves noticed it; and envied the negro, while they execrated the haughty, unfeeling agent, who seldom, or ever answered their letters, or took any notice of their applications.

The poor negro consoled himself for his disappointment by turning Christian; and being a pretty clever fellow, and having formerly belonged to the royal family, it was considered an act of kindness and magnanimity, to raise him to the rank of deacon in Simon's church. Deacon John generally acts as a privy counsellor to the king; and is sometimes a judge in criminal cases, when his majesty allows of one, which is not very often; for he most commonly acts in as despotic and summary a manner as the Dey of Algiers himself.

King Dick keeps a boxing-school, where the white men are sometimes admitted. No. 4 is noted, also, for fencing, dancing and music; and, however extraordinary it may appear, they teach these accomplishments to the white men. A person, entering the cock-loft of No. 4, would be highly amused with the droll scenery which it exhibited; and if his sense of smelling be not too refined, may relish, for a little while, this strange assemblage of antics. Here he may see boxing, fencing, dancing, raffling, and other modes of gambling; and to this, we may add, drawing with chalk and charcoal; and tricks of slight-of-hand; and all this to gratify the eye; and for the sense of hearing, he may be regaled with the sound of clarionets, flutes, violins, flagelets, fifes, tambarines, together with the whooping and singing of the negroes. On Sundays this den of thieves is transformed into a temple of worship, when Simon, the priest, mounted on a little stool, behind a table covered with green cloth, proclaims the wonders of creation, and salvation to the souls of true believers; and hell fire and brimstone, and weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth, to the hardened and impenitent sinner, and obstinate rebel of proffered mercy. As he approaches the end of his discourse, he grows warmer and warmer, and, foaming at the mouth, denounces all the terrors of the law against every heaven-daring, God-provoking sinner. I have frequently noticed the effect of this black man's oratory upon some of his audience. I have known him to solemnize his whole audience, a few numskulled negroes alone excepted. While he has been thus thundering and lightning, sullen moans and hollow groans issue from different parts of the room; a proof that his zealous harrangue solemnizes some of his hearers; while a part of them are making grimaces, or betraying marks of impatience; but no one dare be riotous; as near the preacher sat his majesty king Dick, with his terrible club, and huge bear-skin cap. The members of the church sat in a half circle nearest the priest; while those who had never passed over the threshold of grace, stood up behind them.

A little dispute, if not quite a schism, has existed between Simon, the priest, and deacon John. The latter, while in the family of a royal Duke, had learned that it was proper to read prayers, already made, and printed to their hands; but Simon said, he should make but few converts if he read his prayers. He said that prayers ought to spring at once, warm from the heart; and that reading prayers was too cold a piece of work for him or his church. But John said, in reply, that reading prayers was practised by his royal highness the duke of Kent, and all the noble families in England, as well as on board all his Britannic majesty's ships of war. But Simon, who had never waited on royalty, nor ever witnessed the religious exercises of an English man of war, would not believe this practice of the British nation ought to have weight with the reformed Christians of the United States. There was a diversity of opinion in the black church; and the dispute once grew so warm, that Simon told John, that it was his opinion, that "he who could not pray to his God, without a book, would be damned."

His majesty king Dick finding that this dispute might endanger the peace of the church, and, possibly, diminish his own influence, advised that the dispute should be left to the decision of a neighboring methodist preacher, who sometimes visited the prison, in a labor of love. The preacher came, and heard patiently, the arguments of both sides, and finally decided, as king Dick doubtless foresaw, in favor of Simon. He said that the reason why his royal highness the duke of Kent, and all the royal family, and all the nobility and parliament men read their prayers, was, because they had not time to make them, each one for himself. Now Deacon John was a better reasoner than Simon; but Simon had the most cant; and he, of course, prevailed. It is probable that John had concluded, that if he could carry a vote for reading prayers, he, himself, would be the reader; and then he should become as conspicuous as Simon. Emulation, and the desire of distinction, the great, and indeed main-spring of this world, was as apparent among these degraded sons of Africa, as among any white gentlemen and ladies in the land. John's ambition, and his envy, operated just like the ambition and envy of white people. At length, when the deacon found that, since the decision of the methodist, his supporters deserted him, he made his mind up to follow the current, and to justify his conduct by inculcating a spirit of conciliation and union. This shrewd fellow knew, that if he did not follow the current, he should lose the privilege he enjoyed of sitting at the end of the table, opposite to Simon; and of leaning his head on the great bible, while Simon was preaching; privileges too great to be slighted in such a church; and directly after a religious dispute.

Since I returned home, and while transcribing this journal for the press, I have thought that the conduct of deacon John was from the self same principle with that which actuated the federalists, since the dissolution and disgrace of the Hartford Convention. This faction, it seems, found themselves after the peace, and after the battle of New Orleans, going fast down the stream of popular opinion; and then it was that they preached up conciliation, liberality, and union; then it was they caught hold of the skirts of the land and naval heroes; nay, they went so far as to hail Jefferson and Madison as brother Unitarians! In short, the situation of black John, and the federalists of Massachusetts, was exactly the same; and their conduct in every point, similar; and the leading federalists of Boston have been left, like the deacon of the negro congregation, in No. 4, Dartmoor prison, to lean upon the great bible; which sacred volume these persons are sending to all parts of the world, not being sufficiently awake to consider it will democratize other parts of the world, beside America.

When the British General Prescott commanded at Rhode Island, in the revolutionary war, (the same whom our Major Barton stole, and carried off in the night, from his head quarters, in a whale boat) he was very much disliked for his silly haughtiness, and unbecoming pride. One day a Baptist preacher waited upon him to complain of an oppression exercised on some of his followers, by the military, and taking his bible out of his pocket, he began to read a passage which he deemed applicable to the case; on sight of which the General flew into a rage, and drove the preacher, with his bible, out of the room, saying, "if it had not been for that d—d book, we should not have had this rebellion." Bating the profane epithet, we give the angry Scotchman credit for his sagacity. The observation would not have disgraced his countryman, David Hume.

Simon, the priest, enjoyed one great and envied privilege, which John never pretended to, namely, an acquaintance and intercourse with the angel Gabriel. He had many revelations from this celestial messenger, and related them to his church. They related principally to the fate of his fellow prisoners; one, in particular, he told to his church with awe and solemnity.

I saw, said he, a great light, shining only through the grates of one window, before the hour of day break. I looked up, and saw something like a man with wings. I was at first frightened, and cried out, "who comes dare?" for I could not see his face. Directly the bars of the window beat each way, and his head and shoulders came in, when I knew him to be the angel Gabriel. "Simon," said he, "I am come to tell you that this prison will be sunk before forty days, because its inhabitants are so wicked, and will not repent." Den I tank him; and he drew back his head again; and the iron bars were restored to their place again, when he spread out his wings, which were covered with ten thousand stars, which made a great light when he flew away. Such was the method used, by this artful black man, to rouse his countrymen out of the sink of vice; and it had the desired effect. This prediction solemnized several of the negroes, and had more or less effect upon all of them. They became more liberal in their contributions, which enabled Simon to purchase a new green coat. It seemed as if the most profligate of these fellows, had a secret dread of Simon's prediction, and were willing to gain his favor by contributions, instead of repentance. Has not this disposition founded churches, monasteries and nunneries? Many of Simon's church are strongly impressed with the apprehension of the prison sinking within forty days.

These blacks have been desirous of having their prison the centre of amusement. They act plays twice a week, and as far as close imitation of what they have seen and heard, and broad grimace, they are admirable; but they are, half the time, ignorant of the meaning of the words they utter.—The gate-ways and century-boxes are plaistered over with play-bills, announcing—Othello, for the first time, by Mr. Robinson—Desdemona, by Mr. Jones. I seldom failed to attend these exhibitions, and must confess that I never before or since, or perhaps ever shall laugh so heartily as at these troglodyte dramas. Their acting was assuredly the most diverting beyond all comparison, or example, I ever saw. They would cut so many negroish capers in tragedy, grin and distort their countenances in such a variety of inhuman expressions, while they kept their bodies either stiff as so many stakes, or in a monkeyish wriggle, and ever and anon such a baboon stare at Desdemona, whose face, neck and hands, were covered with chalk and red paint, to make him look like a beautiful white lady—was altogether, considering that they themselves were very serious, the most ludicrous exhibition of two legged ridiculousness I ever witnessed. In the midst of my loud applauses, I could not, when my sore sides would allow me to articulate, help exclaiming—O! Shakespeare! Shakespeare!—O! Garrick! Garrick!—what would not I give (an indigent prisoner) could I raise you from the dead, that you might see the black consequences of your own transcendent geniuses!—When Garrick rubbed himself over with burnt cork to make himself look like a Moor, or with lamp-black to resemble Mungo, it did pretty well; but for a negro man to cover his forehead, neck and hands with chalk, and his cheeks with vermillion, to make him look like an English, or American beauty, was too much. Had I been going up the ladder to be hanged, I should have laughed at this sight; for to all this outrageous grimace, was added a fantastic habiliment, and an odour from Desdemona and company, that associated the ideas of the skunk or the polecat. I presume that their august majesties, the emperor and empress of Hayti, have some means of destroying this association of ideas, so revolting to Americans.

After all, this may be in us a disgust grounded more in prejudice than nature. What we call delicacy is a refinement of civilization; and of course a departure from nature. See how the brutes enjoy rolling and wallowing in what we call dirt; next to them, we may observe the love of what we call filth in savages, and of those persons in our cities who stand nearest to them. Extreme cleanliness is the offspring of riches, leisure, luxury, and extreme refinement; nevertheless it is true what Swift says, that "persons with nice minds have nasty ideas." I suffered greatly, and so did many of our countrymen, on our first acquaintance with filth and vermin in this our British captivity. Many a time have I got up from my dinner as hungry as I sat down, when disgust has been greater than appetite. I have, however, gradually surmounted antipathies I once thought insurmountable. I am not the only one who has often retired from our disgusting repast, to my bunk or sleeping birth, in silent agony, there to breathe out to my Maker, woes too great for utterance. O, Britain! Britain! will there not be a day of retribution for these thy cruelties!

There are some in this dismal prison, who have been used all their lives, not to conveniences only, but to delicacies; who are obliged to submit to the disagreeables of this uncivilized mode of incarcerating brave men, for one of the first of Grecian, Roman, English and American virtues, the love of country, or patriotism. These unfortunate men, with minds far elevated beyond the officers who are placed here to guard, and to torment them, submit to their confinement with a better grace than one could have expected. When these men have eaten their stinted ration, vilely cooked, and hastily served up, they return to their hammocks, or sleeping births, and there try "to steep their senses in forgetfulness," until the recurrence of the next disgusting meal. On the other hand, some have said that they never before eat with such a keen appetite; and their only complaint has been, that there was not one quarter enough for them to devour. I was often satisfied with a quantity of food that was not half enough for my companions. Some have since said, that they devoured their daily allowance at Dartmoor, with more relish than they ever have since, when set down at tables, covered as our American tables are, with venison, poultry, the finest fish, and the best fruits of our country, with choice old cider, and good foreign wines.

A thing very disagreeable to me, arose from causes not occasioned by the enemy. I have been squeezed to soreness, by a crowd of rough, overbearing men, who oft times appeared to be indifferent whether they trampled you under feet or not. The "rough allies," so called, had no feeling for men smaller and weaker than themselves. From this gang, you could seldom get a civil answer. Their yells, and whooping, more like savages than white men, were very troublesome. The conduct of these, proved that it was natural for the strong to tyrannize over the weak. I have often thought that our assemblage of prisoners, resembled very much the Grecian and Roman democracies, which were far, very far, beneath the just, rational, and wisely guarded democracy of our dear America, for whose existence and honor we are all still heartily disposed to risk our lives, and spill our blood.

As not allowing us prisoners a due and comfortable portion of clean food, is the heavy charge I have to make against the British nation, I shall here, once for all, attempt to describe the agonies I myself sometimes felt, and observed others to endure, from cravings of hunger; which are keen sensations in young men, not yet arrived to their full growth. The hungry prisoner is seen to traverse the alleys, backwards and forwards, with a gnawing stomach, and a haggard look; while he sees the fine white loaves on the tables of the bread-seller, when all that he possesses cannot buy a single loaf. I have known many men tremble, and become sick at their stomachs, at the sight of bread they could not obtain. Sometimes a prisoner has put away a portion of his bread, and sworn to himself that he would not eat it until such an hour after breakfast; he has, however, gone to it, and picked a few crumbs from it, and replaced it; and sometimes he could no longer resist the grinding torments of hunger, but devoured it with more than canine appetite; for it must be understood that the interval between the evening and morning meal was the most distressing. An healthy, growing young man, feels very uncomfortable if he fasts five hours; but to be without food, as we often were, for fourteen hours, was a cruel neglect, or a barbarous custom. Our resource from hunger was sleep; not but that the sensations of hunger, and the thoughts of the deprivation, often prevented me from getting asleep; and at other times, when wrapt in sleep, I have dreamed of setting down to a table of the most delicious food, and most savory meats, and in the greatest profusion; and amidst my imagined enjoyment, have waked in disappointment, agony and tears. This was the keenest misery I ever endured; and at such times, have I cursed the nation that allowed of it, as being more barbarous than Algerines or wild Indians. The comparative size of the pieces of beef and bread is watched with a keen and jealous eye; so are even the bits of turnip in our soup, lest one should have more than the other. I have noticed more acts of meanness and dishonesty in men of respectable character, in the division and acquisition of the articles of our daily food, than in any other transaction whatever. Such as they would despise, were hunger out of the question. The best apology I can make for the practice of gaming is, the hope of alleviating this most abominable system of starvation. Had we been duly and properly fed, we never should have run so deeply into the hell of gambling. We did not want money to buy clothing, or wine, or rum, but to buy beef, and bread, and milk. I repeat it, all the irregularities, and, finally, the horrors and death, that occurred in a remarkable manner, in this den of despair, arose from the British system of scanty food for young men, whose vigorous systems, and habits of being full fed, demanded a third more solid flesh meat, than would satisfy a potatoe-eating Irishman, an oat-feeding Scotchman, or an half starved English manufacturer. After we have finished our own dinners in New England, we give to our cats and dogs, and other domestic animals, more solid nourishment, the remnant of our meals, than what we had often allowed us in the ships and prisons of "the world's last hope," Pickering's[T] "fast anchor'd isle."

Among the abuses of Dartmoor prison, was that of allowing Jews to come among us to buy clothes, and allowing some other people, worse than Jews, to cheat us in the articles we purchased. How far our keepers went "snacks" with these harpies, we never could know. We only suspected that they did not enjoy all their swindling privileges gratuitously. Before the immoral practice of gambling was introduced and countenanced, it was no unusual thing to see men in almost every birth, reading, or writing, or studying navigation. I have noticed the progress of vice in some, with pain and surprise. I have seen men, once respectable, give examples of vice that I cannot describe, or even name; and I am fearful that some of our young boys, may carry home to their hitherto pure and chaste country, vices they never had any idea of when they left it. I believe Frenchmen, Italians, and Portuguese, are much worse examples for our youth, than English, Irish, or Scotchmen. I must say of the British that they are generally men of better habits and morals than some of the continental nations. But enough, and more than enough, on the depravity of the oldest of the European nations.

February 28th, 1815.—Time hangs heavily on the weary and restless prisoner. His hopes of liberation, and his anxiety, increase daily and hourly. The Favorite! The Favorite, is in every one's mouth; and every one fixes the day of her arrival. We have just heard that she was spoken near the coast of America, by the Sultan, a British 74, on the 2d of February. If so, then she must arrive in a few days, with the news of the ratification or rejection of the treaty of peace, by Mr. Madison; and on this great event our happiness depends. Some of the English merchants are so confident that our President will ratify the treaty, that they are sending vast quantities of English manufactures out to Halifax, to be ready to thrust into the ports of America, as soon as we shall be able, legally, to admit them. It is easy to perceive that the English are much more anxious to send us their productions, than we are to receive them.

Our anxiety increases every day. We inquire of every one the news. We wait with impatience for the newspapers, and when we receive them are disappointed; not finding in them what we wish. They, to besure, speak of the sitting of the Vienna Congress; and we have been expecting, every day, that this political old hen had hatched out her various sort of eggs. We expected that her motley brood would afford us some fun. Here we expected to see a young hawk, and there a goslin, and next a strutting turkey, and then a dodo, a loon, an ostrich, a wren, a magpie, a cuckoo, and a wag-tail. But the old continental hen has now set so long, that we conclude that her eggs are addled, and incubation frustrated. During all this time, the Gallick cock is on his roost at Elba, with his head under his wing.

We but now and then get a sight of Cobbett's Political Register; and when we do, we devour it, and destroy it, before it comes to the knowledge of our Ceroebrus. This writer has a manner sui generis, purely his own; but it is somewhat surprising, how he becomes so well informed of the actual state of things, and of the feelings and opinions of both parties in our country. His acuteness, his wit, his logic, and his surliness, form, altogether, a curious portraiture of an English politician. We, now and then, get sight of American papers; but they are almost all of them federal papers, and contain matter more hostile to our government than the English papers. The most detestable paper printed in London, is called, "The Times;" and that is often thrown in our way; but even this paper is not to be compared to the "Federal Republican," printed at Washington or Georgetown, or to the Boston federal papers. When such papers are shown to us by the English here we are fairly brought up, and know not what to say.

I cannot answer precisely for the impressions Governor Strong's speeches and proclamations have made on others, I can only answer for myself. They very much surprised and grieved me. I was born in the same county where Mr. Strong resided, and where I believe he has always lived and I had always entertained a respect for his serious character, and have, from my boyhood, considered him among the very sensible men, and even saints of our country; and all my connections and relations gave their votes for good Caleb Strong, on whose judgment and public conduct, my parents taught me to rely, with as much confidence as if he had actually been a thirteenth apostle. Just then what must have been my surprise, on reading his proclamations for fasts and thanksgivings, and his speeches and messages to the legislature and his conduct relative to the general government and the militia; and above all for his strange conduct in organizing a convention of malcontents at Hartford, in Connecticut. No event in New England staggered me so much. When we learnt that he proclaimed England to be "the bulwark of the holy religion we profess," I concluded that it was a party calumny, until I saw its confirmation in the attempts of his friends to vindicate the assertion. I then concluded that one of two things must have existed; either Mr. Strong had become superannuated and childish, or that the English Faction had got behind his chair of government and under the table of the counsel-board, and in the hollow panels of his audience chamber, and completely bewitched our political Barzilla. I suspected that gang of Jesuits, the Essex Junto, had put out his eyes, and was leading him into danger and disgrace. It is undeniable that Governor Strong has, in his public addresses, sided more with the declared enemy, Britain, than with his own national government; and that he has said a great deal tending to encourage the enemy to persist in their demands, and to pursue the war, than he has to discourage them. It appears, in truth, that the English consider him in a great measure their friend and well wisher.

Is it possible that Governor Strong can be deluded away by the missionary and bible societies of Old England, so as to mistake the English for a religious people? I am very confident that there is less religion, or appearance of it, in London and in all their large cities, than in any other civilized country of the same numbers, in Europe. Their national churches are empty, while their streets and their harbors are full of lewdness; and they have more thieves, gamblers, forgers, cheats and bawds than any other nation upon earth. Add to this, their laws are bloody, beyond modern example, their military punishments horrible, and their treatment of prisoners of war a disgrace to the name of Christians. Can Governor Strong be totally ignorant of the policy of some in patronizing bible and missionary societies? And does he not see the impracticability of the scheme contemplated by the latter? If we divide the known countries of the globe into thirty equal parts, five will be found to be Christians, six Mahometans, and NINETEEN Pagans. It is difficult to believe that the first man, the governor and commander in chief of the great and respectable commonwealth of Massachusetts, can seriously expect that the missionary societies of England and of Boston can effect this immense task or that it ever was the design of Providence that all the families of the earth should think alike on subjects of religion. Let us take things as the sons of men have always found them, and not presume to oppugn Providence, who has decreed that there shall be, every where, men of different colours, countenances, voices, manner of speaking, of different feelings and views of things, and also of different languages and of different opinions, as it regards the Deity, and his government of the world; and that among this great and doubtless necessary diversity of the views of him, we may have the most pure and rational system of any. Let us then enjoy that system, encourage a virtuous education and love one another, and leave to his direction and control the myriads of rational beings on earth, of which we, Christians, make so small a part. No, no, my countrymen, if Governor Strong will not attend exclusively to the mere affairs of the state, with its relative duties, and leave the great world to the legislation of its great Creator, you had better allow him to retire to Northampton, there to study in silence how to govern his own heart, and how to work out his own salvation, instead of continuing the tool of a turbulent and vicious party. I still think Mr. Strong is a man of good intentions, and an honest patriot; but that he has been deluded by artful men, who in their scheme of governing the whole nation have found their account in placing at the head of their party in Massachusetts, a man of correct morals and manners, and of a reputed religious cast of mind. But Mr. Strong should reflect; and being a phlegmatic man, he is able to reflect calmly, and consider things deliberately. He should reflect, I say, on the impression his remarkable conduct must have on the minds of his countrymen, who have risked their lives, and are now suffering a severe bondage in that great national cause of "FREE TRADE AND NO IMPRESSMENT," which led the American people to declare war against Britain, by the voice of their representatives, in congress assembled. How strange, and how painful must it appear to us, and to our friends in Europe, that the governor of a great state should lean more towards the Prince Regent of Britain, than to the President of the United Stales! If, therefore, we consider Mr. Strong as a sensible and correct man, and a true patriot, his conduct as governor of Massachusetts, especially as to the time of organizing a convention, of which the English promised themselves countenance and aid, must have appeared more than strange to us in captivity.

If we contemplate the character of the leading men of that party which put into office, and still support Governor Strong, and with whom he has co-operated, we cannot clear this gentleman of reproach. Previously to our late contest with Britain, it was the unceasing endeavor of the leaders of the federal party to bring into discredit, and contempt, the worthiest and best men of the nation; to ridicule and degrade every thing American, or that reflected honor on the American Independence. So bitter was their animosity; so insatiate their thirst for power, and high places, that they did not hesitate to advocate measures for the accomplishment of their grand object, which was to get into the places of those now in power. How often have we seen the party declaring in their venal prints, that the American administration was base, and cowardly, and tamely suffering the outrages, abuses and contempt of the nations of Europe, without possessing the spirit to resent, or the power to resist them; and that "we could not be kicked into a war." Yet after the administration had exhausted every effort to bring England to do justice, and war was declared, these very federalists called the act wicked and inhuman; and denounced the President for plunging the country into hostilities with the mistress of the ocean, the most powerful nation of the earth! They called this act of Congress, "Madison's War," and did every thing in their power to render that upright man odious in the eyes of the unthinking part of the community. This was not all; these arrogant men, assumed to themselves "all the talents," and "all the virtues" of the country, used every mean in their power to paralyze the arm of government, and reduce the energies of the nation, in the face and front of our adversary. By arguments and threats, they induced the monied men in Massachusetts, very generally, to refuse loans of money to government; and to ruin our resources. Did not this party, denominated federalists, exult at the disasters of our arms; and did they not vote in the Senate of Massachusetts, that "it was unworthy a religious and moral people, to rejoice at the immortal achievements of our gallant seamen?" In the midst of our difficulties, when this powerful enemy threatened us by sea and land, with an army force from Penobscot, another through Lake Champlain, another at the Chesapeake, while nothing but resistance and insurgency was talked of and hinted at within! Did they not in this state of things, and with these circumstances, did not Governor Strong, and the federal party generally, seize hold of this alarming state of our affairs, to call the Convention at Hartford, and that not merely to perplex the government, but to be the organ of communication between the enemy and the malcontents? Did they not then talk loudly of our worm eaten Constitution; and did they not call the Union "a rope of sand," that could no longer hold together? If there be a line of transgression, beyond the bounds of forgiveness, the leaders of that party, who put Mr. Strong up for Governor, have attained it. These things I gather from the papers, and from the history of the day, as I have collected them since my return home. And to all this must be added the damning fact of Te Deums, orations, toasts, and processions of the clergy, and the judges, with all the leaders of the federal, or opposition party, in celebration of the success of the Spaniards in restoring the Inquisition, and recalling the reign of superstition and terror; against which we have been preaching and praying ever since the first settlement of our country.

Our American newspapers, if they are not so correctly written as the London papers, are informing and amusing.—They show the enterprize, the activity, and the daring thoughts of a free and an intrepid people; while the London papers are filled with a catalogue of nobles, and noblesses, who were assembled to bow, to flatter, to cringe, and to prink at the levee of the Great Prince Regent, the presumptive George the IVth, with now and then some account of his wandering wife, the Princess of Wales. We are there also entertained with a daily account of the health and gestation of Joanna Southcote; for whose reputation and welfare, "thinking Johnny Bull" is vastly anxious; insomuch that were any continental nation to run obstinately counter to the popular opinion respecting her, we do deem it not impossible that the majority of the nation might be led to sign addresses to the Prince to go to war with them, in honor of Saint Joanna! Their papers, likewise, contain a particular account of the examination of rogues by the Bow-street officers, highway robberies, and executions; together with quack puffs, and miraculous cures. These, together with the most glorious and unparalleled bravery of their officers and seamen, and of their generals and soldiers, with the highest encomiums on the religion, the learning, the generosity, contentment, and happiness of the people of Britain and Ireland, make up the sum and substance of all the London papers, William Cobbett's alone excepted; and he speaks with a bridle in his mouth!

This month (February) Captain Shortland stopped the market for six days, in consequence of some unruly fellows taking away certain wooden stanchions from Prison No. 6. But the old market women, conceiving that the Captain encroached upon their copy-hold, would not quietly submit to it. They told him that as the men were going away soon, it was cruel to curtail their traffic. We always believed that these market women, and the shop and stall keepers, and Jews, purchased, in some way or other, the unequal traffic between them and us. Be that as it may, Shortland could not resist the commercial interest, so that he, like good Mr. Jefferson, listened to the clamor of the merchants, and raised the embargo.

No sooner was quiet restored, and the old women and Jews pacified, but a serious discontent arose among the prisoners, on discovering that these Jews, of all complexions, had raised the price of their articles, on the idea, we supposed, that we should not much longer remain the subjects of their impositions. The rough allies, a sort of regulators, who were too stout, and most commonly too insolent, to be governed by our regular and moderate committees, turned out in a great rage, and tore down several of the small shops, or stalls, where slops were exposed for sale. These fellows, at length, organized themselves into a company of plunderers. I have seen men run from their sleeping births, in which they spent nearly their whole time, and plunder these little shop keepers, and carry the articles they plundered, and secrete them in their beds. These mobs, or gangs of robbers, were a scandal to the American character; and strongly reprobated by every man of honor in the prisons. Some of these little British merchants found themselves stripped of all they possessed in a few minutes, on the charge of exorbitant prices. We never rested, nor allowed these culprits to rest, until we saw the cat laid well on their backs. These plunderings were in consequence of informers, and there was no name, not even that of a federalist, was so odious with all the prisoners, as that of an informer. We never failed to punish an informer. Nothing but the advanced age of a man, (who was sixty years old) prevented him from being whipped for informing Captain Shortland of what the old man considered an injury, and for which he put the man accused, into the black hole. An informer, a traitor, and an avowed federalist, were objects of detestation at Dartmoor.

During the time that passed between the news of peace, and that of its ratification, an uneasy and mob-like disposition, more than once betrayed itself. Three impressed American seamen had been sent in here from a British ship of war, since the peace. They were on board the Pelican, in the action with the American ship Argus, when fell our brave Captain Allen. One day, when all three were a little intoxicated, they boasted of the feats they performed, in fighting against their own countrymen; and even boasted of the prize money they had shared for capturing the Argus. This our prisoners could not endure; and it soon reached the ears of the rough allies, who seized them, and kicked and cuffed them about unmercifully; and they took one of them, who had talked more imprudently than the rest, and led him to the lamp iron that projected from one of the prisons, and would, in all probability, have hanged him thereon, had not Shortland rescued him by an armed force. They had fixed a paper on the fellow's breast, on which was written, in large letters, a Traitor and a Federalist.It may seem strange to some, but I am confident that there is no class of people among us more strongly attached to the American soil, than our seamen, who are floating about the world, and seldom tread on the ground. The sailor who roams about the world, marks the difference of treatment, and exults in the superior advantages of his countrymen. The American custom of allowing on board merchant ships the common sailors to traffic a little in adventures, enlarges their views, makes them think and enquire, and excites an interest in the sales of the whole cargo. The common sailor here feels a sort of unity of interest; and he is habituated to feel as a member of the floating store-house which he is navigating. It is doubtful whether the British sailor feels any thing of this.

I have had occasion often to remark on the tyrannical conduct, and unfeeling behaviour of Captain Shortland, but he had for it the excuse of an enemy; but the neglect of Mr. Beasley, with his supercilious behaviour towards his countrymen here confined, admits of no excuse. He was bound to assist us and befriend us, and to listen to our reasonable complaints. When negro John wrote to his Royal Highness the Duke of Kent, son of king George the 3d, and brother of the Prince Regent, he received an answer in terms of kindness and reason; but Mr. Beasley, who was paid by our government for being our agent, and official friend, never condescended to answer our letters, and if they ever were noticed, it was in the style of reproof.—His conduct is here condemned by six thousand of his countrymen; and as many curses are daily uttered on him in this prison. It is almost treason in this our dismal Commonwealth, or rather common misery, to speak in his favour. If Shortland and Beasley were both drowning, and one only could be taken out by the prisoners of Dartmoor, I believe in my soul, that that one would be Shortland; for, as I said before, he has the excuse of an enemy.

The prisoners have been long determined to testify their feelings towards Mr. Beasley, before they left Dartmoor; and the time for it has arrived. The most ingenious of our countrymen are now making a figure resemblance, or effigy of this distinguished personage. One has contributed a coat, another pantaloons, another a shirt-bosom or frill, another a stuffed-out-cravat; and so they have made up a pretty genteel, haughty-looking-gentleman-agent, with heart and brains full equal, they think, to the person whom they wish to represent. They called this figure Mr. B——. They then brought him to trial. He was indicted for many crimes towards them, and towards the character of the United States. The jury declared him to be guilty of each and every charge; and he was sentenced by an unanimous decree of his judges, to be hanged by the neck until he was dead, and after that to be burnt. They proceeded with him to the place of execution, which was from the roof of prison No. 7, where a pole was rigged out, to which was attached an halter. After silence was proclaimed, the halter was fastened round the neck of the effigy; and then a solemn pause ensued; which apparent solemnity was befitting the character of men who were convinced of the necessity of the punishment of the guilty, while they felt for the sufferings and shame of a fellow mortal. After hanging the proper time, the hangman, who was a negro, cut him down; and then the rough allies took possession of him, and conducted him to a convenient spot in the yard, where they burnt him to ashes. This was not, like the plunder of the shop-keepers, the conduct of an infuriate mob; but it was begun and carried through by some of the steadiest men within the walls of Dartmoor prison.—They said they had no other way of testifying their contempt of a man, who they supposed had injured them all, and disgraced their country. Such was the fact; as to the justness of their charges, I have nothing to say. I hope Mr. B. can vindicate his conduct to the world; and I hope this publication may lead to a thing so much wished for. The accusations of the multitude are commonly well founded, but often too high coloured. If this gentleman has never been censured by our government, we may conclude that he has not been quite so faulty as has been represented.

During all this solemn farce, poor Shortland looked like a culprit under sentence of death. Some of the rogues had written, with chalk, on the walls, Be you also ready!—This commander's situation could not be an enviable one. He was, probably, as courageous a man as the ordinary run of British officers; but it was plainly discoverable that he was, half his time, in dread, and during the scene just described, in terror, which was perceivable amidst his affected smiles, and assumed gaiety. He told a gentleman, belonging to this depot, that he never saw, nor ever read, or heard of such a set of Devil-daring, God-provoking fellows, as these same Yankees. And he added, I had rather have the charge of five thousand Frenchmen, than FIVE HUNDRED of these sons of liberty; and yet, said he, I love the dogs better than I do the damn'd frog-eaters.

On the 30th of March we received the heart-cheering news of the total defeat of the British army before New-Orleans, with the death of its commander in chief, Sir Edward Pakenham, and Generals Gibs and Kean, with a great number of other officers, and about five thousand rank and file killed and wounded; and what appeared to be absolutely incredible, this unexampled slaughter of the enemy was achieved with the loss of less than twenty killed and wounded on our side. Instead of shouting and rejoicing, as in ordinary victories, we seemed mute with astonishment. Yes! when we saw the Englishmen walking with folded arms, looking down on the ground, we had not the heart to exult, especially as the war was now ended. I speak for myself—there was no event that tended so much to reconciliation and forgiveness as this immense slaughter of the English. We felt that this victory was too bloody not to stifle loud exultation.

We had heard of Generals Dearborn, Brown, Scott, Ripley, Gaines and Miller, but no one knew who General Andrew Jackson was; but we said that it was a New-England name, and we had no doubt but he was a full blooded yankee, there being many of that name in New-Hampshire, Massachusetts, Vermont, Rhode Island and Connecticut.—But I have since heard that he was a village lawyer in Tennessee, and a native of South Carolina.

The more particulars we hear of this extraordinary victory, the more we were astonished. We cannot be too grateful to Heaven for allowing us, a people of yesterday, to wind up the war with the great and terrible nation, the mistress of the ocean, in a manner and style that will inspire respect from the present and future race of men. Nothing now is thought of or talked of, but New-Orleans and Jackson, and Jackson and New-Orleans. We already perceive that we are treated with more respect, and our country spoken of in honorable terms. The language now is "we are all one and the same people. You have all English blood in your veins, and it is no wonder that you fight bravely!" Sometimes they have uttered the slang of "The Times," and cast reflections on the government, and on President Madison, but we have always resented it, nor do we ever allow any one to speak disrespectfully of our illustrious chief magistrate.

About the middle of the present month, (March) we received the news of the landing of Napoleon in France, while every one here supposed him snug at Elba. The news came to England, and passed through it like thunder and lightning, carrying with it astonishment and dismay. But as much as they dread, and of course hate Bonaparte, the British cannot but admire his fortune and his glory. There are a number of Frenchmen yet here; and it is impossible for man to shew more joy at this news from France. They collected together and shouted Vive l'Empereur! and the yankees joined them, with huzza for Bonaparte; and this we kept up incessantly, to plague the British. The English bear any thing from us with more patience, than our expressions of affection for the Emperor Napoleon. Now the fact is, we care no more for the French, than they do for us; and there is but little love between us; yet we pretend great respect and affection for that nation, and their chief, principally to torment overbearing surly John Bull, who thinks that we ought to love nobody but him, while he himself never does any thing to inspire that love.

About the 20th of this month, we received the heart cheering tidings of the Ratification of the Treaty of Peace, by the President of the United States. This long expected event threw us all into such a rapturous roar of joy, that we made old Dartmoor shake under us, with our shouts; and to testify our satisfaction we illuminated this depot of misery. Even Shortland affected joy, and was seen more than once, like Milton's Devil, to "grin horribly a ghastly smile."

As there can be now no longer a doubt of our being soon set at liberty, our attention is directed to the agent for prisoners for fixing the time, and arranging the means. Mr. Beasley had written that as soon as the Treaty was ratified, he would make every exertion for our speedy departure. He must be aware of our extreme impatience to leave this dreary spot, whose brown and grassless surface renders it a place more proper for convicts, than an assemblage of patriots.

We are all watching the countenance and conduct of our surly keeper, Shortland: and it is the general opinion that he is deeply chagrined at the idea of no longer domineering over us. It may be, also, that the peace may reduce him to half pay. I, myself, am of opinion, that he is dissatisfied at the idea of our escaping his fangs, with whole skins; and his dark and sullen countenance gathers every day additional blackness.

April 4th.—The contractor's clerk being desirous to get off his hands the hard biscuit, which had been held in reserve in case of bad weather, attempted to serve it out to the prisoners at this time; but the committee refused to receive it. Nothing but hard bread was served out to them this day. In the evening, several hundred of the prisoners entered the market square, and demanded their soft bread; but it was refused. The officers persuaded them to retire, but they would not, before they received their usual soft bread. The military officers, finding that it was in vain to appease them, as they had but about three hundred militia to guard five or six thousand, complied with their request, and all was quietness and contentment.

During this little commotion, Captain Shortland was gone from home. He returned next day, when he expressed his dissatisfaction at the conduct of the military, who he said, should not have complied with the demand of the prisoners. As it was, however, past, and the prisoners were tranquil, and no signs of disturbance remaining, he grew pacified.

On the 4th of April, we received intelligence, which we supposed correct, that seven cartel ships were to sail from the Thames for Plymouth, to transport us home, and that several more were in preparation. This inspired us with high spirits, and good humor; and I distinctly remember that the prisoners appeared to enjoy their amusements, such as playing ball and the like, beyond what I had ever before observed. We all, in fact, felt light hearted, from the expectation of soon leaving this dreary abode, to return to our dear homes, and adored country. But how was the scene changed before the light of another day! Dead and wounded men, blood and horror, made up the scenery of this fatal evening!

The best account that could possibly be given, is that of a respectable committee, selected from among the best characters in this large assemblage of American prisoners. The greater part of this committee, were men of no mean talents. They were not young men, but had arrived at that period of life, when judgment is the soundest, and when passion does not betray reason. The anxiety of all to know the truth, and the solemn manner in which the evidence was collected and given, stamped the transaction with the characters of truth. I did not see the beginning of this affray. I was, with most of the other prisoners, eating my evening's meal in the building, when I heard the alarm bell, and soon after a volley of musketry. There were, I believe, before the alarm bell rung, a few hundred prisoners, scattered here and there about the yards, as usual; but I had no idea of any particular collection of them, nor had I any suspicion of any commotion existing, or meditated. But I forbear; and will here insert the report of the committee, in the correctness of which I place an entire confidence.

DARTMOOR MASSACRE.

DEPOSITION No. I.

No. II.

No. III.

No. IV.

No. V.

No. VI.

No. VII.

No. VIII.

No. IX.

No. X.

No. XI.

No. XII.

No. XIII.

No. XIV.

No. XV.

No. XVI.

No. XVII.

No. XVIII.

Letter from Mr. Beasly, agent for American prisoners of war at London, to the Committee of American prisoners of war in Dartmoor prison.

Agency for American prisoners of war,
London, April 12, 1815.

Gentlemen—It having been stated in some of the newspapers published here, that the American government intended to send some ships of war bound to the Mediterranean, to this country, for the purpose of completing their crews from among the prisoners; and having been informed that this idea has got among the prisoners, it becomes my duty to request, that you will inform them that the fact is not so.

I have already informed you of the measures which had been taken to provide conveyances for the prisoners. You will let them know, that eight large transports have been engaged, some of which must be now at Plymouth; others will follow, until the whole of the prisoners are sent off.

It is much to be lamented, that at a moment when every exertion was making to restore them to their country, they should have fallen into an excess which has proved fatal to some. And I am at a loss to conceive how they could, under such circumstances, pretend to say, that the cause of this unfortunate but shameful conduct, was the neglect of their government or its agent. This, I am informed, they have stated to the officers who were sent to examine into the affair. I am, gentlemen, your obedient servant,

R. G. BEASLY.

The Committee of the American prisoners, Dartmoor.