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 Cerœbrus. 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.
Having seen in print several different statements of the massacre of the American prisoners of war at Dartmoor, and, on perusal, finding, that, though they corroborate each other, as to the leading facts, yet it seems the public are not in possession of all the particulars necessary to form a proper judgement of the same.
While in prison, we having been members of the committee through whom was transacted all their public business, and through whose hands passed all their correspondence with their agent in London, and having in our possession several documents relating to the before mentioned brutal butchery, we deem it a duty we owe to our murdered countrymen and fellow-citizens in general to have them published.
Respecting the conduct of T. G. Shortland, (commander-of the depot of Dartmoor) prior to the bloody and ever memorable sixth of April, it was a series of continued insult, injury and vexation to the prisoners generally. Incapable of appreciating the beneficial effects of the liberal policy of a gentleman, his sole study appeared to be devising means to render the situation of the prisoners as disagreeable as possible. To instance a few of his proceedings will sufficiently warrant the foregoing assertion. His conduct to the American officers was marked with peculiar baseness and indignity. In the construction of the depot at Dartmoor, there was a separate prison, built and enclosed for the more commodious accommodation of those officers (prisoners of war) who were not considered by them entitled to a parole. Instead of Shortland allowing those officers to occupy that prison, they were turned into the other prisons promiscuously, with their men. His conduct to the prisoners generally was of the same stamp. There not being, at any time, a sufficient number to occupy all the prisons, he kept the two best, which were built by the Frenchmen during their confinement, and more conveniently fitted for the accommodation of prisoners, shut and unoccupied, while the upper stories of those prisons in which the Americans were put, were in such a state that on every rain storm the floors were nearly inundated. The pernicious effect this had on the health of the prisoners may be easily judged of by the great mortality that prevailed among them during the last winter season.
Another instance of his murderous disposition, was his ordering his guards to fire into the prisons, when, at any time, a light was seen burning during the night, as specified in the general report. While the Frenchmen were confined in that depot, it was a custom for the turnkey, with a sentry, to go into each prison, and see the lights extinguished at a stated hour; although frequently lighted again there was no further molestation. Instead of pursuing this plan with the Americans, Shortland gave orders for the guards to fire into the prisons whenever there should be a light burning. Frequently, on the most trivial occasions, he would prevent the prisoners, for ten days at a time, from purchasing, in the market, of the country people, such articles of comfort and convenience as their scanty means would admit of. His last act of this kind, was but a short time previous to the massacre, and his alledged reason for it was, that the prisoners would not deliver up to him a man who had made his escape from the black hole, (a place of confinement for criminals) and had taken refuge among the prisoners in general. This man was one of a prize-crew, who was confined in that dark and loathsome cell, on a short allowance of provisions, from June, 1814, until the ratification of the treaty. On that man being demanded, the prisoners stated to Shortland, that they did not presume that the British government would expect them to stand sentry over each other—that he might send his turnkeys and soldiers in and look for the man, but they would not seek him and deliver him up—upon which he ordered the military to fire upon the prisoners, but owing to the coolness and deliberation of the then commanding military officer, in restraining them, this order was not obeyed.
To sum up the whole in a few words, his conduct, throughout, was marked by the same illiberal prejudice, overbearing insult, and savage barbarity, which characterizes the majority of English officers when they have Americans in their power.
The enclosed papers, from No. 1 to 16 inclusive, are the depositions taken by the committee of investigation on the 7th. Colonel Ayre arrived from Plymouth and took command of this depot. Shortland sent in a message to the committee, requesting their attendance at his office, to which was returned for answer, that considering him a murderer, they were determined to have no communication with him—but added, if the commanding officer from Plymouth had any thing to communicate, they would wait on him; and, at his request, they went up to the gate, where they stated to him all the particulars of the affair.
He expressed great regret for what had occurred, and assured the prisoners that no further violence should be used upon them. In the mean time Shortland made his appearance. Instantly the indignant cry of murderer, scoundrel, villain, burst from the lips of hundreds. The guilty wretch stood appalled, not daring to offer a syllable in vindication of his conduct; but with a pallid visage and trembling step, returned to his guard-house, from whence he was never seen to emerge while we remained there. In the course of the day, a rear-admiral and post captain arrived from Plymouth, sent by Sir J. T. Duckworth, commander in chief on that station, to enquire into the transaction; to whom we likewise fully stated, by the committee, all the particulars, together with Shortland's previous infamous conduct. Their scandalous misrepresentation of the same to the admiralty board, as will be seen in their statement No. 20, is truly characteristic of the British official accounts. We likewise wrote to Mr. Beasly on that day, giving him a short history of the affair, but as he did not acknowledge the receipt of the letter, we concluded it had been intercepted. On the 14th we received a letter from him dated the 12th, of which No. 18 is a copy—in answer to which No. 19 is a copy. On the 16th we received another from him, of which No. 20 is a copy; in the interim he had seen a copy of our report, sent by a private conveyance, which seemed to have greatly altered his opinion concerning the affair. In his letter of the 14th was an extract from the statement or report sent him by the admiralty board. On receiving which we wrote to admiral Duckworth, of which No. 21 is a copy.
On the 22d of April, Mr. King, appointed by the American agents at London, and a Mr. Larpent on the part of the government, with a magistrate of the county of Devon, arrived at the depot to investigate the affair; they were employed the greater part of three days in taking the deposition, respecting the same; and though we would not hastily prejudge Mr. King's report, we deem it necessary to state, that our anticipations of it are not of the most favourable nature, from his not appearing to take that interest in the affair which the injuries his countrymen had received demanded, as far the greater part of their time was employed in taking the depositions of Shortland's witnesses, most of whom were the principal actors, on that day, and of course were implicated with him in his guilt. On learning Mr. King was about leaving the depot, we addressed a note to him, stating, that we had a number of witnesses waiting, whose depositions we conceived would be of importance, and requested him to have them taken; we received to this note no answer, and he immediately left the depot. The particular points on which those depositions would have born, related to the picking the hole in the wall and breaking the locks of the gate leading into the market-square—they would have exonerated the prisoners generally from having any share in those acts, or even a knowledge of their having been committed. As these were the two principal points on which Shortland rested his plea of justification, we deemed it highly necessary that they should have been placed in a proper point of view. As for an idea of the prisoners attempting to break out, a moment's reflection would convince any impartial man of its improbability. Every prisoner that had a sufficiency of money to defray his expenses, could obtain his release and a passport, by applying to Mr. Beasly, or through their correspondence in England; those who had not funds would not have left the depot had the gates been thrown open, having no means of subsistence in a foreign country, and there being a very hot press of seamen at that time, they knew their risk of being kidnapped was great, and when, by staying a few days longer, they were assured they would be embarked for their native country. The infamous falsehoods circulated in the English prints, of the prisoners having armed themselves with knives, clubs, stones, &c. seized a part of the guard and disarmed them, and other similar reports, are unworthy of notice; for when the disturbance occurred on the fourth of April, concerning bread, the prisoners having burst open the inner gates, had they the least disposition, they might have immolated the whole garrison, as they were completely surprised and panic struck.
The artful policy of the British officers in coupling the transactions of the 6th of April with that of burning Mr. Beasly's effigy, may easily be seen through; the latter was done a fortnight previous, by a few individuals, without its being generally known, or the least disturbance concerning it; and we deem it but justice to state, that whatever negligence Mr. Beasly may have been guilty of, respecting the affairs of the prisoners, he should be totally exonerated from all blame respecting the massacre.
There was an instance that occurred on the evening of the 6th, which reflects so much credit on the Americans, it should not be passed over in silence. When the brutal soldiery were following the prisoners in the yards, stabbing and firing among them, a lamp lighter, who had come in a few moments previous, ran into No. 3 prison, to escape being murdered by his own countrymen; on being recognized, a rope was fixed for hanging him immediately. In this moment of irritation, when their slaughtered and bleeding countrymen lay groaning around them in the agonies of dissolution, such an act of vengeance, at that time would not have been singular—but on its being represented to them, by some influential characters, that such a deed would stain the American name, to their honour be it recorded, that humanity triumphed over vengeance, the trembling wretch was released, and told to go—"We disdain to copy after your countrymen, and murder you at this advantage, we will seek a more noble revenge."
We deem it necessary here to remark, as some editors have manifested a disposition to vindicate Shortland's conduct, that, allowing every circumstance to be placed in the most unfavourable point of view for the prisoners, suppose, for a moment, it was their intention to break out, and a number had collected in the market square for that purpose, when, being charged upon by the military, they retreated out of the square into their respective prison-yards, and shut the gates after them without making any resistance whatever; under such circumstances no further opposition could have been expected, and, consequently, their intention must have been completely defeated. What justification can there then be made to appear for the subsequent brutal, unprecedented butchery and mutilation? None! The most shameless and barefaced advocates and apologizers for British injustice cannot produce any.
| WALTER COLTON, | Members of the Committee. | |
| THOS. B. MOTT, | ||
| WM. HOBART, |
DEPOSITION No. I.
I, Addison Holmes, being solemnly sworn on the holy evangelists of Almighty God, depose and say—
That on the 6th of April, about 6 o'clock in the evening, I was in the market-square, where the soldiers were drawn up. There was a number of Americans in the square—to the best of my judgment, between fifty and a hundred. I distinctly heard Captain Shortland order the soldiers to charge on the prisoners, which they did not do till the order was repeated by their own officers, when they charged, and the prisoners retreated through the gates, which they shut to after them. In this interim I had got behind a sentry box, in the square, and the soldiers went past me. I saw Captain Shortland open the gates, and distinctly heard him give the word to fire, which was not immediately obeyed, the commanding officer of the soldiers observing, that he would not order the men to fire, but that he (Shortland) might do as he pleased. I then saw Captain Shortland seize hold of a musket, in the hands of a soldier, which was immediately fired—but I am not able to say whether he or the soldier pulled the trigger. At this time I was endeavouring to get through the gate to the prison-yard—in so doing several stabs were made at me with bayonets, which I evaded. Immediately after the firing became general, and I retreated, with the remainder of the prisoners, down the yard, the soldiers following and firing on the prisoners; after I had got into No. 3 prison, I heard two vollies fired into the prison, that killed one man and wounded another—and further the deponent saith not.
ADDISON HOLMES.
We, the undersigned, being duly appointed and sworn as a committee to take the depositions of those persons who were eye witnesses of the late horrid massacre, certify that the above deponents, being duly and solemnly sworn on the holy evangelists of Almighty God, did depose and say as before written, which was severally read to each one who subscribed the same.
| William B. Orne, | Wm. Hobart, |
| Francis Joseph, | James Adams, |
| Walter Colton, | James Boggs. |
[A certificate similar to the foregoing, is attached to each of the depositions. The originals are now in our hands.]
No. II.
We, the undersigned, being each severally sworn on the holy evangelists of Almighty God, depose and say—
That on the 6th of April, about six o'clock in the evening, as we were walking in the yard of No. 1 and No. 3 prisons, just before the usual time of turning in, we heard the alarm bell ring. At this time most of the prisoners were in the prisons; a number with us ran up the market square, out of curiosity, to see what was the matter; there were about one hundred collected in the square, and a number were standing by the gates inside the prison yard; the soldiers were drawn up in the upper part of the square; orders were given them to charge, on which the prisoners retreated out of the square, and some of the last which came through the gates, shut them to; the soldiers then commenced firing on them through the iron pailings, and fired several vollies in succession. The prisoners were, at this time endeavouring to get into their respective prisons, when the soldiers perceived that they were all dispersed from the gates, they followed them into the yard, and continued firing on them; and after all the prisoners had got into the prisons, a party of soldiers pursuing them, came up to the door of No. 3 prison, and fired two vollies into the prison, which killed one man and mortally wounded another.
We further solemnly declare, that there was no pre-concerted plan or intention among the prisoners to make an attempt to break out, or to resist, in any manner, the authority of the government of the depot.
| John T. Foster, | Charles Perry, | Geo. Stinchecomb, |
| Elisha Whitten, | Wm. B. Orne, | William Perry, |
| Isaac L. Burr, | James Grennlaw, | Richard Downing. |
Done at Dartmoor Prison, this 7th day of April 1815.
No. III.
I, Andrew Davis, jun. being solemnly sworn upon the holy evangelists of Almighty God, depose and say—
That on the 6th of April, about six o'clock in the evening, while walking in the yard of No. 3 prison, I heard the alarm bell ring, and I went up towards the gate: I saw several men bearing a wounded man towards the gate, whom it appeared had been wounded by the soldiers' bayonets; when the prisoners were retreating out of the square, I heard Captain Shortland order a part of them to let go the wounded man, which some of them did; one of the remaining remonstrated to Captain Shortland, saying that the man was so badly wounded that it required several to support him; on which Captain Shortland struck him several blows with his fists, and he appeared to me, from the whole of his conduct, to be much intoxicated with liquor—and further the deponent saith not.
ANDREW DAVIS, Jun.
No. IV.
We, the undersigned, depose and say—
That on the 6th of April, in the evening, we were in the yard of No. 1 and No. 3 prisons, when we heard the firing at the gates, and saw the prisoners all endeavoring to get into their respective prisons. In going down towards the lower door of the prisons, we saw a party of soldiers, who were posted on the walls, commence firing on the prisoners, and we saw a man fall, who immediately died, and several others were badly wounded before they were able to get into the prisons.
| Amos Cheeney, | James Coffen, |
| Washington Fox, | Thomas Williams, |
| John Smith, | Henry Casey. |
| Harris Keeney, |
No. V.
Homer Hull, after being duly sworn on the holy evangelists of Almighty God, deposeth and saith—
On the 6th of April, about six o'clock in the evening, I was walking in the yard of No. 7 prison; all being as tranquil among the prisoners as usual; I observed an unusual number of soldiers mounting the walls; and one of them called to one of the prisoners, and told him he (the prisoner) had better go into the prison, as the prisoners would soon be charged upon. While he was asking the cause of such a proceeding, I heard the alarm bell ringing. I immediately run to the gates leading to the square, when I saw Captain Shortland at the head of the armed soldiery marching down to the gratings, the prisoners at the same time running to see what was the matter; on the soldiers coming to the gratings, Capt. Shortland ordered them to charge, which they did; the prisoners immediately run to their respective prisons; on passing through the inner gate they closed it after them. Then I heard Captain Shortland order the soldiers to FIRE, which they commenced to do in every direction of the yard, when the prisoners were making every effort to reach their prisons. I did not see any violence used on the part of the prisoners, nor do I believe any violence was intended or premeditated.
HOMER HULL.
I, Joseph C. Morgan, having been duly sworn, and having read the foregoing deposition, do declare the statement therein mentioned, to be true.
J. C. MORGAN.
No. VI.
We, the undersigned, depose and say—
That, on the 6th of April, about 6 o'clock in the evening, we were in the market square—we distinctly heard Captain Shortland give orders to the soldiers to charge on the prisoners—and after we retreated through the gates, we heard him give orders to the soldiers to FIRE, which, on his repeating several times, was executed.
| Joseph Reeves, | Isaac L. Burr, |
| James Greenlaw, | Thomas Tindal. |
No. VII.
We, the undersigned, depose and say—
That on the 6th of April, in the evening, after all the prisoners in No. 1 and 3 yards had got into their respective prisons, a party of soldiers came up to the door of No. 3 prison—we were standing near the door at the time, and saw them fire TWO VOLLIES into the prison, which killed one man and wounded another.
| William Scanck, | John Latham, |
| James Greenlaw, | John Glass. |
No. VIII.
Enoch Burnham, having been duly sworn, deposeth—
That he was standing at the market gate at the time Capt. Shortland came into the market square with a large party of soldiers (it being then about 6 o'clock.) They immediately formed a line in the square—at that time a number of prisoners got into the square from the yard of No. 1 prison, and had advanced a few steps; the soldiers then charged, and the prisoners immediately retreated to their prisons, without the least resistance. After the prisoners had retired to the yards of the prison, the soldiery formed a line, and commenced firing in the yards, the prison gates being closed by the prisoners; shortly after they kept up a heavy fire, and I saw one man fall. I immediately hastened to No. 5 prison, but on reaching No. 7, I found there was a party of soldiers on the wall, firing from every direction. I then got safe in No. 7, where, after remaining at the north end window for a few moments, I saw a man (a prisoner) leaning against the wall, apparently wounded, with his hands in a supplicating posture—at the same time, I saw several soldiers present and fire at the prisoner, and he fell dead on the spot.
ENOCH BURNHAM.
No. IX.
Edward Coffin, being duly sworn, deposed, that on the sixth of April, about six o'clock in the afternoon, a few prisoners belonging to No. 5 and 7 prisons, broke a hole through the wall opposite No. 7 prison, as they said, to get a ball out of the barrack yard, which they had lost in their play. After they had broke through the wall, the officers and soldiers that were in the barrack yard, told them to desist, or they would fire upon them. Immediately after that the drum beat to arms, and the square was filled with soldiers, and without telling the prisoners to go to their prison, immediately commenced to charge and fire upon them. I immediately started to go to No. 5 prison, and the soldiers on the platforms on the walls commenced firing, and I should think near forty fired at myself and three others, as I am sure there were no other men in sight at that time between Nos. 5 and 6 prisons. In going round No. 5 cook house, a prisoner was shot and killed very near me.
EDWARD COFFIN.
Attest, Henry Allen.
No. X.
Thomas B. Mott, having been duly sworn, deposed—
About six o'clock in the evening of the 6th of April, I was called on by a number of persons, requesting me as one of the committee, to put a stop to some boys, whom they said were picking a hole through an inner wall, for which, they said, our provisions would be stopped to pay for. I asked what was their intentions in making the hole? They said it was for the purpose of obtaining a ball which they had lost in their play. I then repaired, with a number of respectable men, to make them desist; but before we got into the yard, a quick firing commenced. On my walking up the yard, was met by a number of prisoners retreating to their prisons, much alarmed; one of which I observed was badly wounded; he was bleeding freely from his wound—I could see the yard was clear of prisoners, or not more than two or three to be seen, and they retiring fast. I requested the wounded man to lean upon me, and I would assist him in some medical aid.—We had not advanced but a few steps, when we were fired on. I advanced, assuring the soldiery we had no hostile intentions. I then took the fainting man in my arms, when a volley of musketry was discharged full at us. I then retired immediately; there was but one of my prison doors unlocked, which was on the back of the prison. On turning the corner of the cook house, I found myself unexpectedly open to the fire of soldiers on the ramparts of the south wall;—their fire was kept up in so brisk a manner, that it appeared almost impossible to enter without being shot; but finding my situation very dangerous, I was determined to enter the prison, or die in the attempt. For that purpose, myself, with a number of others that had been standing behind the wing of the cook house, sallied out for the purpose of gaining our prison door, when a volley of musket balls showered in amongst us, killing two, and wounding others. On our entering the prison our doors were shut to keep them from firing in. Some little time after, the turnkey enquired for me; I went forward to the window; he requested me to deliver up the dead and wounded; I requested him to open the door, which he did, for that purpose. On passing out the dead and wounded, I was insulted by the soldiery, and on my replying, was charged upon, and with difficulty escaped, without being butchered; they likewise insulted the wounded as I gave them up, and threw the dead down in the mud, and spurned at them in a very unfeeling manner.
THOS. B. MOTT.
No. XI.
I, William Mitchell, being duly sworn upon the holy evangelists of Almighty God, depose and say—
That, on the evening of the 6th of April, when the alarm commenced, I was in the lower part of No. 1 yard. I walked up towards the gate to learn the cause; when I had got about half way, I heard a single musket fired, and immediately after a whole volley. I then saw several men carrying one that was wounded, the soldiers keeping up the whole time a steady fire, and the prisoners all endeavoring to get into the prisons; the lower doors being closed in the interim; it was with much difficulty they could get in, the soldiers pursuing them the whole time, and charging them with bayonets; and after getting into the prison, I heard the firing of musketry in all directions round the prison: and further the deponent saith not.
WILLIAM MITCHELL.
No. XII.
I, John G. Gatchell, having been duly sworn, depose and say—
That I was walking in the yard, towards the gate. The first I knew, was the soldiers coming into the yard, with Capt. Shortland at their head, when an immediate fire began from the soldiers, and one man fell within six feet of me. While in the act of rendering this man assistance, I heard Captain Shortland order the soldiers to kill the damn'd rascal—meaning me; immediately the soldiers came and pricked me with their bayonets, and I was forced to run to the prison at the hazard of my life, and leave the man that was wounded.
JOHN G. GATCHELL.
No. XIII.
James Taylor, having been duly sworn, deposeth, that he was standing at the gate in the market square, at the time Captain Shortland, with a file of soldiers, entered the square. Captain Shortland ordered a prisoner in the square to go into the prison, when he immediately complied. He then ordered the soldiers to charge; and instantly observed to the commanding officer of the military—"It is no use to charge on the damn'd Yankee rascals—FIRE"—when this commenced immediately. The prisoners at that time were rushing in the prisons as fast as possible, and principally out of the square.—After the prisoners were mostly in the prison of No. 4, a boy, of ten years of age, was shot through the body and killed, while in the door passage trying to get in, by the soldiers in the yard, in my presence, I being inside the prison; likewise one other man was shot through the thigh.
JAMES TAYLOR.
No. XIV.
Samuel Lowdy having been duly sworn, deposeth as follows:
That he was in the yard of prison No. 4, at the time Robert Haywood was shot by the soldiery. He immediately took him up, for the purpose of carrying him to the hospital. In the square he met Capt. Shortland, and said, Capt. Shortland, this man is very badly wounded—I want to carry him to the hospital. Capt. Shortland replied, you damn'd son of a bitch, carry him back to the prison; and he was obliged to comply. After getting to the prison, one of the soldiers called him back, and he went up to the square with the man, and met Capt. Shortland, who said, heave him down there, (pointing to a sentry box) and away with you to the prison. At that time they were firing in the different yards. On leaving the square, we found the man was dead.
SAMUEL LOWDY.
John Battice having been sworn, corroborates the evidence of Samuel Lowdy.
JOHN BATTICE.
No. XV.
William Potter, having been duly sworn, deposed—
That while passing between No. 5 and 6 prisons, the soldiers commenced firing from the walls in three divisions, at a few of us; at that time there were only four prisoners in sight. After advancing a few steps, I found a man badly wounded. I stopped and picked the man up; during which time the soldiers kept an incessant fire at us, as likewise till we got to the prison of No. 5.
WILLIAM POTTER.
No. XVI.
I, David S. Warren, being duly sworn on the holy evangelists of Almighty God, depose and say—
That, on the evening of the 6th of April, when the alarm commenced, I was in the lower part of the yard No. 1 prison. I walked up to the gate to learn the cause. I there saw there were a number of prisoners in the market square, and a great number of soldiers drawn up across the same; soon after they charged on the prisoners, who retreated out of the square into their respective prison yards, and shut the gates after them. I saw the soldiers advance up to the gates, and heard Capt. Shortland order them to fire, which they not immediately obeying, I saw him seize hold of a musket in the hands of a soldier, and direct it towards a prisoner, and heard him again repeat—"fire; God damn you, fire." Immediately afterwards the firing became general; the prisoners were all endeavoring to get into the prisons, which was attended with much difficulty, all the doors but one being closed—and further the deponent saith not.
DAVID S. WARREN.
No. XVII.
We, the undersigned, being each severally sworn on the holy evangelists of Almighty God, for the investigation of the circumstances attending the late horrid massacre, and having heard the depositions of a great number of witnesses, from our own personal knowledge, and from the depositions given in as aforesaid,
REPORT AS FOLLOWS:
That on the 6th of April, about six o'clock in the evening, when the prisoners were all quiet in their respective yards, it being about the usual time of turning in for night, and the greater part of the prisoners being then in the prisons, the alarm bell was rung, and many of the prisoners ran up to the market square to learn the occasion of the alarm. There were then drawn up in the square several hundred soldiers, with Capt. Shortland (the agent) at their head; it was likewise observed at the same time, that additional numbers of soldiers were posting themselves on the walls round the prison yards. One of them observed to the prisoners, that they had better go into the prisons, for they would be charged upon directly. This, of course, occasioned considerable alarm among them. In this moment of uncertainty, they were running in different directions, enquiring the cause of the alarm; some toward their respective prisons, and some toward the market square. When about one hundred were collected in the square, Capt. Shortland ordered the soldiers to charge upon them, which order the soldiers were reluctant in obeying, as the prisoners were using no violence; but on the order being repeated, they made a charge, and the prisoners retreated out of the square, into their prison yards, and shut the gate after them. Capt. Shortland, himself, opened the gates, and ordered the soldiers to fire in among the prisoners, who were all retreating in different directions towards their respective prisons. It appears there was some hesitation in the minds of the officers, whether or not it was proper to fire upon the prisoners in that situation; on which Shortland seized a musket out of the hands of a soldier, which he fired. Immediately after the fire became general, and many of the prisoners were either killed or wounded. The remainder were endeavoring to get into the prisons; when going towards the lower doors, the soldiers on the walls commenced firing on them from that quarter, which killed some and wounded others. After much difficulty, (all the doors being closed in the entrance, but one in each prison) the survivors succeeded in gaining the prisons; immediately after which, parties of soldiers came to the doors of Nos. 8 and 4 prisons, and fired several vollies into them through the windows and doors, which killed one man in each prison, and severely wounded others.
It likewise appears, that the preceding butchery was followed up with a disposition of peculiar inveteracy and barbarity.
One man who was severely wounded in No. 7 prison yard, and being unable to make his way to the prison, was come up with by the soldiers, whom he implored for mercy, but in vain; five of the hardened wretches immediately levelled their pieces at him, and shot him dead on the spot. The soldiers who were on the walls, manifested equal cruelty, by keeping up a constant fire on every prisoner they could see in the yards endeavoring to get into the prisons, when their numbers were very few, and when not the least shadow of resistance could be made or expected. Several of them had got into No. 3 prison cook house, which was pointed out by the soldiers on the walls, to those who were marching in from the square. They immediately went up and fired into the same, which wounded several. One of the prisoners ran out, with the intention of gaining his prison, but was killed before he reached the door.
On an impartial consideration of all circumstances of the case, we are induced to believe that it was a premeditated scheme in the mind of Capt. Shortland, for reasons which we will now proceed to give.—As an illucidation of its origin, we will recur back to an event which happened some days previous. Captain Shortland was at the time, absent at Plymouth; but before going, he ordered the contractor, or his clerk, to serve out one pound of indifferent, hard bread, instead of one pound and a half of soft bread, their usual allowance. This the prisoners refused to receive. They waited all day in expectation of their usual allowance being served out; but at sun-set, finding this would not be the case, burst open the lower gates, and went up to the store, demanding to have their bread.
The officers of the garrison, on being alarmed, and informed of these proceedings, observed that it was no more than right the prisoners should have their usual allowance, and strongly reprobated Captain Shortland, in withholding it from them. They were accordingly served with their bread, and quietly returned to their prison. This circumstance, with the censures that were thrown on his conduct, reached the ears of Shortland, on his return home, and he must then have determined on the diabolical plan of seizing the first slight pretext to turn in the military, to butcher the prisoners for the gratification of his malice and revenge. It unfortunately happened, that in the afternoon of the 6th of April, some boys who were playing ball in No. 7 yard, knocked their ball over into the barrack yard, and on the sentry in that yard refusing to throw it back to them, they picked a hole in the wall, to get in after it.
This afforded Shortland his wished for pretext, and he took his measures accordingly. He had all the garrison drawn up in the military walk, additional numbers posted on the walls, and every thing prepared, before the alarm bell was rung; this he naturally concluded would draw the attention of a great number of prisoners towards the gates, to learn the cause of the alarm, while the turnkeys were dispatched into the yards to lock all the doors but one, of each prison, to prevent the prisoners retreating out of the way, before he had sufficiently wreaked his vengeance.
What adds peculiar weight to the belief of its being a premeditated, determined massacre, are,
First—The sanguinary disposition manifested on every occasion by Shortland, he having prior to this time, ordered the soldiers to fire into the prisons, through the prison windows, upon unarmed prisoners asleep in their hammocks, on account of a light being seen in the prisons; which barbarous act was repeated several nights successively. That murder was not then committed, was owing to an overruling Providence alone; for the balls were picked up in the prisons, where they passed through the hammocks of men then asleep in them. He having also ordered the soldiers to fire upon the prisoners in the yard of No. 7 prison, because they would not deliver up to him a man who had escaped from his cachot, which order the commanding officer of the soldiers refused to obey; and generally, he having seized on every slight pretext to injure the prisoners, by stopping their marketing for ten days repeatedly, and once, a third part of their provisions for the same length of time.
Secondly—He having been heard to say, when the boys had picked the hole in the wall, and some time before the alarm bell was rung, while all the prisoners were quiet as usual in their respective yards—"I'll fix the damn'd rascals directly."
Thirdly—His having all the soldiers on their posts, and the garrison fully prepared before the alarm bell rang. It could not then, of course, be rung to assemble the soldiers, but to alarm the prisoners, and create confusion among them.
Fourthly—The soldiers upon the wall, previous to the alarm bell being rung, informing the prisoners that they would be charged upon directly.
Fifthly—The turnkeys going into the yard and closing all the doors but one, in each prison, while the attention of the prisoners was attracted by the alarm bell. This was done about fifteen minutes sooner than usual, and without informing the prisoners it was time to shut up. It was ever the invariable practice of the turnkeys, from which they never deviated before that night, when coming into the yard to shut up, to halloo to the prisoners, so loud as to be heard throughout the yard, "turn in, turn in!" while on that night it was done so secretly, that not one man in a hundred knew they were shut; and in particular, their shutting the door of No. 7, prisoners usually go in and out at, and which was formerly always closed last, and leaving one open in the other end of the prison, which was exposed to a cross fire from the soldiers on the walls, and which the prisoners had to pass in gaining the prisons.
It appears to us that the foregoing reasons sufficiently warrant the conclusion we have drawn therefrom.
We likewise believe, from the depositions of men who were eye witnesses of a part of Shortland's conduct, on the evening of the 6th of April, that he was intoxicated with liquor at the time; from his brutality in beating a prisoner then supporting another severely wounded, from the blackguard and abusive language he made use of, and from his frequently having been seen in the same state. His being drunk was, of course, the means of inflaming his bitter enmity against the prisoners, and no doubt was the cause of the indiscriminate butchery, and of no quarter being given.
We here solemnly aver, that there was no pre-concerted plan to attempt a breaking out. There cannot be produced the least shadow of a reason or inducement for that intention, because the prisoners were daily expecting to be released, and to embark on board cartels for their native country. And we likewise solemnly assert, that there was no intention of resisting, in any manner, the authority of this depot.
N. B. Seven were killed, thirty dangerously wounded, and thirty slightly do. Total, sixty-seven killed and wounded.
| Signed, | Wm. B. Orne, | Wm. Hobart, | Committee. | ||
| James Boggs, | James Adams, | ||||
| J. F. Trowbridge, | Francis Joseph, | ||||
| John Rust, | Henry Allen, | ||||
| Walter Colton, | Thomas B. Mott, |
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.
No. XIX.
Dartmoor, April 14, 1815.
Sir—Yours, of the 12th inst. came to hand this morning. It is with astonishment we note its contents, that the officers who came to inquire into the circumstances of the late unfortunate affair, should have informed you, that the prisoners stated to them the cause of that event was that their government or its agent had neglected them. This is a most deliberate falsehood, let your authors be who they may. We deny not that the anxiety of the prisoners to get released from here, has been great; they have even censured you as being dilatory in your preparations for that purpose—but their government they have never implicated—and you may rest assured, that they have too much of the genuine spirit of Americans, to apply to the officer of a foreign government for relief, or to make them a party in any dispute with the government or its agents.
We solemnly assure you, that whatever anxiety among the prisoners, or want of confidence in your exertions, as above stated, may have existed among them, that it can in no way be construed to have any collusion or connection with the late event, and was expressly so stated to the admiral, who came here from Plymouth.
We, on the contrary, in the name of the five thousand prisoners confined here, accuse Shortland of a deliberate, pre-determined act of atrocious murder—we have sufficient evidence in our possession to prove it to the world, and we call on you (there being at present no accredited minister, or charge des affairs at the court of London) to make strict inquiries into the circumstances of the case, and procure all the evidence necessary for a proper investigation into the same; for well do we feel assured, that our government will not thus suffer its citizens to be sacrificed, for the gratification of national prejudice, malice or revenge, of the petty officers of a foreign state.
We are at no loss to impute the misrepresentation of the British officers to their proper motives. They artfully wish to excite in your breast a spirit of enmity and resentment against the prisoners, that you might use less perseverance, or feel yourself less interested in making the proper inquiries into the late affair.
With much respect, we remain, Sir, your most obedient and humble servants,
WILLIAM HOBART,
WALTER COLTON,
HENRY ALLEN.
R. G. Beasly, Esq. Agent for Prisoners, London.
No. XX.
Second Letter from Mr. Beasly to the American Committee.
| Agency for American Prisoners of War, | |
| London, April 14, 1815. |
Gentlemen—My letter to you of the 12th inst. on the subject of the melancholy event, was written under an impression which I received from a report of it, transmitted to me by this government: I have since received your report of the circumstances. Had I been in possession of the information therein contained, the letter would have been differently expressed. I am, gentlemen, your obedient servant,
R. G. BEASLY.
Committee of American Prisoners, Dartmoor.
P. S. I subjoin an extract of the report alluded to from the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty:
"The rioters, it appears, endeavored to OVERPOWER the guard, to force the prison, and had actually seized the arms of some of the soldiers, and made a breach in the walls of the depot, when the guard found itself obliged to have recourse to their fire arms, and five of the rioters were killed, and thirty-four wounded, after which the tumult subsided, and the depot was placed in a state of tranquillity and security.
"Admiral Sir J. T. Duckworth, Commander in Chief at Plymouth, having received information of this unfortunate event, lost no time in directing Rear Admiral Sir Josias Rowley, Baronet, K. C. B. and Schornberg, the two senior officers at that port, to proceed to Dartmoor, and to inquire into the circumstances. Those officers accordingly repaired to the depot, where they found, on examination of the officers of the depot, and all the American prisoners who were called before them, that the circumstances of the riot were as before stated; but that no excuse could be assigned for the conduct of the prisoners, but their impatience to be released; and the Americans unanimously declared, that their complaint of delay was not against the British government, but against their own, which ought to have sent means for their early conveyance home, and in replies to distinct questions to that effect they declared they had no ground of complaint whatsoever."
No. XXI.
Dartmoor, April 17, 1815.
To Rear Admiral Sir J. T. Duckworth.
Sir—The officers whom you sent to this place to inquire into the circumstance of the unfortunate occurrence of the 6th inst. whatever right they had to represent the conduct of Captain Shortland in the most favorable manner, we conceive it an act of gross injustice that they should have given to you such a false and scandalous representation of what they were told by the prisoners.
In the report from the admiralty board to Mr. Beasly, (a copy of which he has transmitted to us) it is stated that the prisoners, when called upon to give an account of the circumstances of the 6th, exonerated Captain Shortland and the English government from any blame respecting the same, and accused their own government and its agent of being the cause.
We, on the contrary, solemnly declare, that it was expressly stated to Admiral Rowley, that whatever anxiety might have existed among the prisoners for a speedy release, could, in no way whatever, be construed to have had any collusion or connection with that event.—That the prisoners, so far from having any idea of attempting to break out, if the gates had been opened, and every one suffered to go who might wish to do so, not one in a hundred would have left the prison, having no means of subsistence in a foreign country, and being likewise liable to IMPRESSMENT, when by staying a few days longer, they would, probably, be embarked for their native country.
They, on the contrary, accused Captain Shortland of being the sole mover and principal perpetrator of the unprovoked and horrid butchery.
Conceiving, from your well known character in the British navy for integrity and candor, that you would not wish to have your name the medium of imposing such a gross misrepresentation and such direct falsehoods on the admiralty board and the British public, we have taken the liberty of thus addressing you, and have the honor to subscribe ourselves, your most obedient and very humble servants,
Wm. Hobart, Walter Colton, Henry Allen, Thomas B. Mott, Wm. B. Orne,
Committee of American Prisoners, Dartmoor.
[In addition to the documents furnished by the committee of the Dartmoor prisoners, we lay the following affidavit of Archibald Taylor before the public. Will people doubt this evidence also? Is it likely that common soldiers, hired assassins, would make use of similar expressions from their own impulses? or is it not much more conformable to common sense to believe that this was the language held by their officers, and that they echoed it.]
City of New York, ss.
Archibald Taylor, late commander of the Paul Jones, private armed vessel of war, being duly sworn, doth depose and say—
That he was a prisoner in Dartmoor prison at the time of the late massacre of Americans; that after the affair of the 6th of April, and on the night of the same day, he was in the prison No. 3, assisting Thomas Smith, late his boatswain, who was shot through his leg by the soldiers in the yard, when an order was received to have all the wounded removed from the prisons to the hospital; and while this deponent was carrying the said Thomas Smith to the door of the prison, to deliver him to the guards selected to receive him, some of the soldiers observed to this deponent, "this is in turn for the affair at New Orleans, where you killed our men, and now we have our revenge"—and further this deponent saith not.
ARCHIBALD TAYLOR.
Sworn before me, this 28th June, 1815.
AARON H. PALMER, Notary Public.
KING AND LARPENT'S REPORT.
Plymouth, 18th April, 1815.
We the undersigned commissioners, appointed on behalf of our respective governments, to inquire into and report upon, the unfortunate occurrence of the 6th April inst. at Dartmoor Prison; having carefully perused the proceedings of the several courts of inquiry, instituted immediately after that event, by the orders of Admiral Sir John T. Duckworth and Major-General Brown, respectively, as well as the depositions taken at the coroner's inquest upon the bodies of the prisoners, who lost their lives upon that melancholy occasion; upon which inquest the jury found a verdict of justifiable homicide; proceeded immediately to the examination upon oath in the presence of one or more of the magistrates of the vicinity, of all the witnesses, both American and English, who offered themselves for that purpose; or who could be discovered as likely to afford any material information on the subject, as well as those who had been previously examined before the coroner, as otherwise, to the number in the whole of about eighty. We further proceeded to a minute examination of the prisons, for the purpose of clearing up some points which, upon the evidence alone, were scarcely intelligible; obtaining from the prisoners, and from the officers of the depot, all the necessary assistance and explanation; and premising, that we have been from necessity compelled to draw many of our conclusions from statements and evidence highly contradictory, we do now make upon the whole proceedings the following report:—
During the period which has elapsed since the arrival in this country of the account of the ratification of the treaty of Ghent, an increased degree of restlessness and impatience of confinement appears to have prevailed amongst the American prisoners at Dartmoor, which, though not exhibited in the shape of any violent excesses, has been principally indicated by threats of breaking out if not soon released.
On the 4th of this month in particular, only two days previous to the events which are the subject of this inquiry, a large body of the prisoners rushed into the market-square, from whence, by the regulations of the prison they are excluded, demanded bread instead of biscuit, which had on that day been issued by the officers of the depot; their demands having been then almost immediately complied with, they returned to their own yards, and the employment of force on that occasion became unnecessary.
On the evening of the 6th, about 6 o'clock, it was clearly proved to us, that a breach or hole had been made in one of the prison walls, sufficient for a full sized man to pass, and that others had been commenced in the course of the day near the same spot, though never completed.
That a number of the prisoners were over the railing erected to prevent them from communicating with the sentinels on the walls, which was of course forbidden by the regulations of the prison, and that in the space between the railing and those walls they were tearing up pieces of turf, and wantonly pelting each other in a noisy and disorderly manner.
That a much more considerable number of the prisoners was collected together at that time in one of their yards near the place where the breach was effected, and that although such collection of prisoners was not unusual at other times (the Gambling Tables being commonly kept in that part of the yard) yet, when connected with the circumstances of the breach, and the time of the day, which was after the hour the signal for the prisoners to retire to their respective prisons had ceased to sound, it became a natural and just ground of alarm to those who had charge of the depot.
It was also in evidence that in the building formerly the petty officers' prison, but now the guard barrack, which stands in the yard to which the hole in the wall would serve as a communication, a part of the arms of the guard who were off duty, were usually kept in the racks, and though there was no evidence that this was, in any respect, the motive which induced the prisoners to make the opening in the wall, or even that they were ever acquainted with the fact, it naturally became at least a further cause of suspicion and alarm, and an additional reason for precaution.
Upon these grounds captain Shortland appears to us to have been justified in giving the order, which about this time he seems to have given, to sound the alarm bell, the usual signal for collecting the officers of the depot and putting the military on the alert.
However reasonable and justifiable this was as a measure of precaution, the effects produced thereby in the prisons, but which could not have been intended, were most unfortunate, and deeply to be regretted. A considerable number of the prisoners in the yards where no disturbance existed before, and who were either already within their respective prisons, or quietly retiring as usual towards them, immediately upon the sound of the bell rushed back from curiosity (as it appears) towards the gates, where, by that time, the crowd had assembled, and many who were at the time absent from their yards, were also from the plan of the prison, compelled, in order to reach their own homes, to pass the same spot, and thus that which was merely a measure of precaution, in its operation increased the evil it was intended to prevent. Almost at the same instant that the alarm bell rung, (but whether before or subsequent is upon the evidence doubtful, though captain Shortland states it positively as one of his further reasons for causing it to ring) some one or more of the prisoners broke the iron chain, which was the only fastening of No. 1 gate, leading into market square by means of an iron bar; and a very considerable number of the prisoners immediately rushed towards that gate; and many of them began to press forwards as fast as the opening would permit into the square.
There was no direct proof before us of previous concert or preparation on the part of the prisoners, and no evidence of their intention or disposition to effect their escape on this occasion, excepting that which arose by inference from the whole of the above detailed circumstances connected together.
The natural and almost irresistible inference to be drawn, however, from the conduct of the prisoners by captain Shortland and the military was, that an intention on the part of the prisoners to escape was on the point of being carried into execution, and it was at least certain that they were by force passing beyond the limits prescribed to them at a time when they ought to have been quietly going in for the night. It was also in evidence that the outer gates of the market square were usually opened about this time to let the bread waggons pass and repass to the store, although at the period in question they were in fact closed.
Under these circumstances, and with these impressions necessarily operating upon his mind, and a knowledge that if the prisoners once penetrated through the square, the power of escape was almost to a certainty afforded to them, if they should be so disposed; captain Shortland in the first instance proceeded down the square towards the prisoners, having ordered a part of the different guards, to the number of about fifty only at first, (though they were increased afterwards) to follow him. For some time both he and Dr. Magrath endeavored by quiet means and persuasion, to induce the prisoners to return to their own yards, explaining to them the fatal consequences which must ensue if they refused, as the military would in that case be necessarily compelled to employ force. The guard was by this time formed in the rear of captain Shortland, about two thirds of the way down the square—the latter is about one hundred feet broad, and the guard extended nearly all across. Captain Shortland, finding that persuasion was all in vain, and that although some were induced by it to make an effort to retire, others pressed on in considerable numbers, at last ordered about 15 file of the guard, nearly in front of the gate which had been forced, to charge the prisoners back to their own yards.
The prisoners were in some places so near the military, that one of the soldiers states that he could not come fairly down to the charge; and the military were unwilling to set against an enemy. Some struggling ensued between the parties, arising partly from intention, but mainly from the pressure of those behind preventing those in front from getting back. After some little time, however, this charge appears to have been so far effective, and that with little or no injury to the prisoners, as to have driven them for the most part quite down out of the square, with the exception of a small number who continued their resistance about No. 1 gate.
A great crowd still remained collected after this in the passage between the square and the prisoners' yards, and in the part of those yards in the vicinity of the gates.—This assemblage still refused to withdraw, and according to most of the English witnesses and some of the American, was making a noise, hallowing, insulting and provoking, and daring the military to fire, and according to the testimony of several of the soldiers, and some others, were pelting the military with large stones, by which some of them were actually struck. This circumstance is, however, denied by many of the American witnesses; and some of the English, upon having the question put to them, stated that they saw no stones thrown previously to the firing, although their situation at the time was such as to enable them to see most of the proceedings in the square.
Under these circumstances the firing commenced.—With regard to any order having been given to fire the evidence is very contradictory. Several of the Americans swear positively, that captain Shortland gave that order; but the manner in which from the confusion of the moment, they described this part of the transaction, is so different in its details that it is very difficult to reconcile their testimony. Many of the soldiers and other English witnesses, heard the word given by some one, but no one of them can swear it was by captain Shortland, or by any one in particular, and some, amongst whom is the officer commanding the guard, think, if captain Shortland had given such an order that they must have heard it, which they did not. In addition to this captain Shortland denies the fact; and from the situation which he appears to have been placed at the time, even according to the American witnesses, in front of the soldiers, it may appear somewhat improbable that he should then have given such an order.
But, however, it may remain a matter of doubt whether the firing first began in the square by order, or was a spontaneous act of the soldiers themselves, it seemed clear that it was continued and renewed both there and elsewhere without orders; and that on the platforms, and in several places about the prison, it was certainly commenced without any authority.
The fact of an order having been given at first, provided the firing was under the existing circumstances justifiable, does not appear very material in any other point of view, than as shewing a want of self possession and discipline in the troops if they should have fired without order.
With regard to the above most important consideration, of whether the firing was justifiable or not, we are of opinion, under all the circumstances of the case, from the apprehension which the soldiers might fairly entertain, owing to the numbers and conduct of the prisoners, that this firing to a certain extent was justifiable in a military point of view, in order to intimidate the prisoners, and compel them thereby to desist from all acts of violence, and to retire as they were ordered, from a situation in which the responsibility of the agents, and the military, could not permit them with safety to remain.
From the fact of the crowd being so close and the firing at first being attended with very little injury, it appears probable that a large proportion of the muskets were, as stated by one or two of the witnesses, levelled over the heads of the prisoners; a circumstance in some respects to be lamented, as it induced them to cry out "blank cartridges," and merely irritated and encouraged them to renew their insults to the soldiery, which produced a repetition of the firing in a manner much more destructive.
The firing in the square having continued for some time, by which several of the prisoners sustained injuries, the greater part of them appear to have been running back with the utmost precipitation and confusion to their respective prisons, and the cause for further firing seems at this period to have ceased. It appears, accordingly, that captain Shortland was in the market square exerting himself and giving orders to that effect, and that lieutenant Fortye had succeeded in stopping the fire of his part of the guard.
Under these circumstances, it is very difficult to find any justification for the further continuance and renewal of the firing, which certainly took place both in the prison yards and elsewhere; though we have some evidence of subsequent provocation given to the military, and resistance to the turnkeys in shutting the prisons, and of stones being thrown out from within the prison doors.
The subsequent firing rather appears to have arisen from the state of individual irritation and exasperation on the part of the soldiers, who followed the prisoners into their yards, and from the absence of nearly all of the officers who might have restrained it as well as from the great difficulty of putting an end to a firing when once commenced under such circumstances. Captain Shortland was from this time busily occupied with the turnkeys in the square, receiving and taking care of the wounded. Ensign White remained with his guard at the breach, and lieutenants Ayelyne and Fortye, the only other subalterns known to have been present, continued with the main bodies of their respective guards.
The time of the day, which was the officers' dinner hour, will in some measure explain this, as it caused the absence of every officer from the prison whose presence was not indispensable there. And this circumstance which has been urged as an argument to prove the intention of the prisoners to take this opportunity to escape, tended to increase the confusion, and to prevent those great exertions being made which might perhaps have obviated a portion at least of the mischief which ensued.
At the same time that the firing was going on in the square, a cross fire was also kept up from several of the platforms on the walls round the prisoners where the sentries stand, by straggling parties of soldiers who ran up there for that purpose. As far as this fire was directed to disperse the men assembled round the breach, for which purpose it was most effectual, it seems to stand upon the same ground as that in the first instance in the square.—That part which it is positively sworn was directed against straggling parties of prisoners running about the yards and endeavoring to enter in the few doors which the turnkeys, according to their usual practice, had left open, does seem, as stated, to have been wholly without object or excuse, and to have been a wanton attack upon the lives of defenceless, and at that time, unoffending individuals.
In the same, or even more severe terms, we must remark upon what was proved as to the firing in the door-ways of the prisons, more particularly into that of No. 3 prison, at a time when the men were in crowds at the entrance. From the position of the prison and the door, and from the marks of the balls which were pointed out to us, as well as from the evidence, it was clear this firing must have proceeded from soldiers a very few feet from the door way; and although it was certainly sworn that the prisoners were at the time of part of the firing at least, continuing to insult and occasionally to throw stones at the soldiers, and that they were standing in the way of, and impeding the turnkey, who was there for the purpose of closing the door, yet still there was nothing stated which could, in our view, at all justify such excessively harsh and severe treatment of helpless and unarmed prisoners, when all idea of escape was at an end.
Under these impressions, we used every endeavor to ascertain if there was the least prospect of identifying any of the soldiers who had been guilty of the particular outrages here alluded to, or of tracing any particular death, at that time to the firing of any particular individual, but without success; and all hopes of bringing the offenders to punishment would seem to be at an end.
In conclusion, we, the undersigned, have only to add, that whilst we lament, as we do most deeply, the unfortunate transaction which has been the subject of this inquiry, we find ourselves unable to suggest any steps to be taken as to those parts of it which seem to call for redress and punishment.
| (Signed) | CHARLES KING, |
| FRANCIS SEYMOUR LARPENT. |
Plymouth, April 26, 1815.
SIR—In pursuance of the instructions received from Messrs. Clay and Gallatin, I have now the honor to transmit to you the report prepared by Mr. Larpent and myself on behalf of our respective governments, in relation to the unfortunate transactions at Dartmoor Prison of War, on the 6th of the present month. Considering it of much importance that the report, whatever it might be, should go forth under our joint signatures, I have forborne to press some of the points which it involves, as far as otherwise I might have done, and it therefore may not be improper in this letter to enter into some little explanation of such parts of the report.
Although it does appear that a part of the prisoners were on that evening in such a state, and under such circumstances as to have justified in the view which the commander of the depot could not but take of it, the intervention of the military force, and even in a strict sense, the first use of fire arms, yet I cannot but express it as my settled opinion, that by conduct a little more temporising this dreadful alternative of firing upon unarmed prisoners might have been avoided. Yet as this opinion has been the result of subsequent examination, and after having acquired a knowledge of the comparatively harmless state of the prisoners, it may be but fair to consider, whether in such a moment of confusion and alarm, as that appears to have been, the officer commanding could have fairly estimated his danger, or have measured out with precision the extent and nature of the force necessary to guard against it.
But when the firing became general, as it afterwards appears to have been, and caught with electric rapidity from the square to the platforms, there is no plea nor shadow of excuse for it, except in the personal exasperation of the soldiery, nor for the more deliberate, and therefore more unjustifiable firing which took place into three of the prisons, No. 1, 3 and 4, but more particularly into No. 3, after the prisoners had retired into them, and there was no longer any pretence of apprehensions, as to their escape.—Upon this ground, as you, sir, will perceive by the report, Mr. Larpent and myself had no difference of opinion, and I am fully persuaded that my own regret was not greater than his at perceiving how hopeless would be the attempt to trace to any individuals of the military these outrageous proceedings.
As to whether the order to fire came from captain Shortland, I yet confess myself unable to form any satisfactory opinion, though perhaps the bias of my mind is, that he did give such an order. But his anxiety and exertions to stop it after it had continued for some little time, are fully proved, and his general conduct previous to this occurrence, as far as we could with propriety enter into such details, appears to have been characterized with great fairness, and even kindness, in the relation in which he stood towards the prisoners.
On the subject of any complaints against their own government existing among the prisoners, it was invariably answered to several distinct questions put by me on that head, that none whatsoever existed or had been expressed by them, although they confessed themselves to entertain some animosity against Mr. Beasly, to whom they attributed their detention in this country; with what justice, you, sir, will be better able to judge. They made no complaint whatsoever as to their provisions and general mode of living, and treatment in the prison.
I have transmitted to Mr. Beasly, a list of the killed and wounded on this melancholy occasion, with a request that he would forward it to the United States, for the information of their friends at home, and I am pleased to have it in my power to say, that the wounded are for the most part doing well.
I have also enclosed to Mr. Beasly, the notes taken by me of the evidence adduced before us, with a request that he would have them fairly copied, as also a copy of the depositions taken before the Coroner, and desired him to submit them to you when in order.
I cannot conclude, sir, without expressing my high sense of the impartiality and manly fairness with which this enquiry has been conducted on the part of Mr. Larpent, nor without mentioning that every facility was afforded to us in its prosecution, as well by the military officers commanding here and at the prison, as by the magistrates in the vicinity.
I have the honor to be, with much respect, your most obedient humble servant.
| (Signed) | CHARLES KING. |
His Excellency John Q. Adams, &c. &c.
DARTMOOR PRISON.
A Return of American prisoners of war killed and wounded in an attempt to force the military guard on the evening of the 6th of April, 1815.
| Current No. | Number on general entry book. | Names. | Quality. | Ship. | Whether man of war, merchant vessel, or privateer. | Remarks. |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| KILLED. | ||||||
| 1 | 4884 | Wm. Leveridge, | Seaman, | Enterprize, prize to Saratoga. | Privateer, | |
| 2 | 970 | James Mann, | do. | Siro. | Lett. Marque, | |
| 3 | 3134 | John Haywood, | do. | Gave himself up from H. M. Ship Scipion. | Impres'd. | |
| 4 | 1347 | Jo. T. Johnson, | do. | Paul Jones, | Privateer, | |
| 5 | 3936 | John Washington, | do. | Rolla, | Merch. vessel, | |
| WOUNDED. | ||||||
| 1 | 6520 | Tho. Jackson, | Boy, | Gave himself up from H. M. Ship Pontes. | Imp. died Ap. 7, 1815 | |
| 2 | 2647 | James Campbell, | Seaman, | Gave himself up from H. M. Ship Volontaire. | Imp. died Ap. 7, 1815 | |
| 3 | 5769 | John Gier, | do. | Rambler, | Merch. vessel, | |
| 4 | 1722 | William Penn, | do. | Dispatch, | do. | Impres'd, at London |
| 5 | 5003 | Cornel. Garrison, | do. | Invincible, | Lett. Marque | |
| 6 | 3614 | H. Hontcalm, | do. | Homeby. p. G. Tom. | Privateer, | |
| 7 | 1965 | Robert Willett, | do. | Gave himself up from H. M. Ship Andromache. | Impres'd. | |
| 8 | 5326 | John Peach, | do. | Enterprize, | Privateer, | |
| 9 | 2148 | Edw. Wittlebark, | do. | Gave himself up from H. M. Ship Ro. William. | Impres'd. | |
| 10 | 1881 | James Thornbull, | Boy, | Elbridge Gerry, | Privateer, | |
| 11 | 3652 | James Wells, | Seaman, | Thorn, | do. | |
| 12 | 1236 | Philip Ford, | do. | Gave himself up from H. M. S. Sult. | Impres'd. | |
| 13 | 685 | James Bell, | do. | Joel Barlow, | Merch. vessel, | |
| 14 | 94 | John Grey, | do. | St. Martin's Planter, | do. | |
| 15 | 436 | Wm. Leversage, | do. | Magdalene, | do. | |
| 16 | 1024 | Edw. Gardner, | do. | Joseph, | do. | |
| 17 | 1546 | Stephen Phipps, | do. | Zebra, | Lett. Marque, | |
| 18 | 486 | John Roberts, | do. | Two Brothers, | Impres'd, at Cork. | |
| 19 | 1640 | Thomas Smith, | do. | Paul Jones, | Privateer, | |
| 20 | 1819 | Caleb Codding, | do. | Gave himself up from H. M. Ship Swiftsure. | Impres'd. | |
| 21 | 5015 | John Davis, | do. | Charlotte, p. to Mammoth, | Privateer, | |
| 22 | 2013 | James Esdaille, | do. | G. Tomkins, | do. | |
| 23 | 380 | Peter Wilson, | do. | Virginia Planter, | Merch. vessel, | |
| 24 | 2834 | Wm. Blake, | do. | Gave himself up from H. M. S. Repu. | Impres'd. | |
| 25 | 338 | John Hogabets, | 2d Mate, | Good Friends, | Merch. vessel, | |
| 26 | 4153 | Eph. Lincoln, | Seaman, | Argus, | do. | |
| 27 | 4493 | Thomas Findlay, | do. | Enterprize, | Privateer, | |
| 28 | 4109 | John Howard, | do. | Flash, | do. | |
| 29 | 1228 | Joseph Masick, | do. | Gave himself up from H. M. Ship Furieux. | Impres'd. | |
| 30 | 6123 | Robert Fillez, | do. | Grand Turk, | Privateer, | |
| 31 | 1812 | John Willet, | do. | Ga. himself up from H. M. S. Rosario. | Impres'd. | |
| 32 | 3080 | John Perry, | do. | Do fr H. M. S. Tiger. | Impres'd. | |
| 33 | 2662 | John Wilson, | do. | Do fr H. M. S. Fortuna. | Impres'd. | |
| (Signed) | THOMAS GEORGE SHORTLAND, Agent. |
| (Signed) | GEORGE MAGRATH, Surgeon. |
Reply to King and Larpent's Report.
To the People of the United States.
Having perused, with attention, the report of Mr. Charles King, and Francis Seymour Larpent, on their examination of the unfortunate occurrence at Dartmoor, on the 6th of April last:
We, the undersigned, being there at the time this unfortunate occurrence took place, deem it a duty we owe to the surviving sufferers of that bloody transaction, to our fellow citizens, and ourselves, to make some remarks upon such a singular report. Although we presume the door is forever closed against any further investigation of that ever to be remembered transaction, we cannot help, however contrary it may be to our wishes to irritate the public feeling, already so much excited, entering into a detailed investigation of that report.
In the committee's address to the public on the 27th of June last, preceding the publication of the affidavits of some of the prisoners, taken on that melancholy affair, they have justly anticipated what would be the report of the commissioners, after their investigation; they drew their conclusions from the singular manner in which the investigation was conducted. The report commences by stating, that, after carefully perusing the proceedings of the several courts of inquiry, instituted immediately after that event, they proceeded immediately to the examination, upon oath, of ALL the witnesses, both American and English, who offered themselves for that purpose.—How far this part of the report is correct, we shall leave the public to judge.
On the arrival of the commissioners at the depot, the committee of the prison were sent for; after waiting some time at the door of the room, where the inquiry was held, they were called in separately and questioned as to their knowledge of the transactions of the sixth.—The depositions of those who were eye witnesses of that disgraceful scene were taken; some were questioned as to the general conduct of Shortland, previous to that affair; it was represented by them as it would have been by all, as being universally cruel, overbearing and oppressive. After having finished the examination of the committee, they requested them to bring forward all the evidence that was likely to cast any light on the subject of inquiry. They accordingly returned into the prison, and drew up a list of the names of some of the eye-witnesses of that day's occurrence. Although they could have brought hundreds to the examination, and the sum of whose evidence would have amounted to the same, yet the committee not wishing to impede the progress of the investigation, by a redundancy of evidence, they were careful to select such men as were most likely to give a clear and distinct account of all the circumstances as they occurred under their knowledge, taking care, at the same time, to procure those whose different situations afforded them an opportunity of witnessing that transaction, from the commencement to the close. Such was the evidence the committee had selected, to the number of about fifty, VERY FEW of whom were ever examined, although they were kept waiting in the turnkey's lodge (where they were ordered to stay until called for) during the hours of investigation. In the course of the inquiry, it seems, the commissioners found it necessary to survey the particular situation of the prisons, and the points from which the different attacks were made; they accordingly came into the yard for that purpose, and after having been shown all the places from whence the firing was continued, where the crowd of prisoners had assembled on the first alarm, and where the hole, so much made a handle of, had been made—after a slight survey of these different places, they retired into their session room, leaving orders, once more, with the committee to hold their evidence in readiness, as they would soon be called upon for examination. The committee replied that they had been in readiness since the commencement of the inquiry, and were then only waiting their orders to appear before them, feeling happy in the idea of having it in their power to show to the court, and to the world, by the evidence they had to produce, that the attack of Shortland on the defenceless prisoners, was premeditated and unjustifiable in ANY point of view.
After attending in the turnkey's lodge during the sitting of the commissioners, until the middle of the third day, without having but very few of the evidences sent for, and being fearful that they might be waiting for them, the committee sent them word that the witnesses were still in attendance. No answer being returned to this message for some time, the committee became uneasy on account of the long examination of the officers, soldiers, clerks, and turnkeys, attached to the depot, without admitting the prisoners to an equal privilege; and understanding the commissioners were about closing their inquiry, they again sent word they would be glad to have an interview for a few moments, for the purpose of explaining the nature of their evidence, and the necessity of a full hearing on both sides of the question. No answer being returned to this request, and still waiting with the anxious hope that they would soon send for some of us, when we were told by one of the turnkeys, that the commissioners were prepared to depart, having finished the examination. Astonished to think they meant to leave the depot without clearly investigating the circumstances that were the cause of their meeting, and feeling indignant that a cause of so much importance should be passed over so partially, the committee addressed a note to Mr. King, begging him not to shut the door of communication against the prisoners, by closing the inquiry without giving them the privilege of a hearing, as the greatest part of our witnesses were yet unexamined, and their evidence they conceived to be of the utmost importance to the investigation. No reply was made to this note; but, in a few moments, we were told, that the commissioners had left the depot. How far they are justifiable in saying they examined ALL the evidences that offered themselves, we think is sufficiently shewn.
The commissioners next go on to mention the insurrection of the prisoners about the bread, on the 4th, two days previous to the events, the subject of that inquiry. Although the report correctly states, the prisoners quietly returned to their own yards, after their demands having been complied with, Mr. King forgot to mention, that it was clearly represented to him, had the prisoners been so disposed, on that night, they could have easily made their escape. Although that transaction had nothing to do, as relates to the prisoners, with the events of the 6th, we merely represent this circumstance to show, that there was no intention whatever on their part to break out of the prison, as Shortland and his adherents have attempted to prove.
The report now goes on to mention, that on the evening of the 6th of April, about six o'clock in the evening, a hole was made in one of the walls of the prison sufficient for a full-sized man to pass, and others had been commenced, but never completed, and that a number of the prisoners were over the railing erected to prevent them from communicating with the sentinels on the walls, and that they were tearing up pieces of turf, and wantonly pelting each other, in a noisy manner.
As to the hole made in the wall, we believe the causes and reasons have been already sufficiently explained by the affidavits laid before the public. With respect to the prisoners being between the iron paling and the wall, it could have been, if it was not, easily explained to Mr. King, had he given an opportunity. It seems, that on the afternoon of the 6th, some of the prisoners having obtained leave of the sentinels on the walls to go over and lay upon the grass, others seeing them laying so much at their ease, went over to enjoy the same privilege; and as the sentinels made no objection to this proceeding, the number was soon increased to such a degree, that it became no longer an enjoyment to those who first obtained the privilege; some scuffling then ensued among themselves, and they began to pelt each other with turf and old shoes, principally in play, and among so many, no doubt, there must have been considerable noise; but how they can possibly connect this circumstance with the hole made in the wall, is entirely out of our power to conceive, as the iron railings separated them from the pretended breach in the wall, and distant from it more than half the length of the yard; of course, had the hole been intended as a breach, the iron paling would have become a barrier, instead of facilitating the means of an escape.
As to that part of the report which mentions the guard-barracks being the repository for the arms of the guard off duty, and of its standing in the yard to which the hole in the wall would serve as a communication, and of its being a further cause of suspicion and alarm to Captain Shortland—to one acquainted with the situation of the prison, such an idea would be ridiculous; but to those who are not acquainted with it, it will be only necessary for us to mention, that if the prisoners had the intention of breaking out through this passage, and had actually got into the barrack-yard, the difficulties they would then have to encounter would be much greater than to break a passage through the market square, or the back part of the yard. As to the idea of their possessing themselves of the muskets standing in the racks in the guard-barracks (even if they knew of any being there) it is childish; for how easy would it have been for the commanding officer, on the shortest intimation of such an attempt, with one blast of his bugle, to have called all his guards to the spot before a hundredth part of the prisoners could have got into the yard, and by that means instantly put a stop to any further proceedings on their part.
We cannot conceive how Mr. King can possibly come forward and say, on these grounds, it appeared to him that Captain Shortland was justified in giving the order for sounding the alarm bell, when, if he found the prisoners were conducting themselves improperly, had he sent for the committee (as always had been his custom heretofore, when he had any charge against the prisoners for improper conduct) and told them that the prisoners were breaking the wall (which circumstance, as has been published before, was not known to one tenth of the prisoners) and requested them to have represented to those engaged in it, the consequences that must ensue if they persisted in such conduct, we have not a moment's hesitation in saying, they would have put a stop to any further proceedings of that kind.
That part which relates to the breaking of the iron chain which fastened No. 1 gate, and which follows next in the report, says there was no evidence to show whether it was done before or after the alarm bell rang. As this was a material point on which they grounded Shortland's justification, we have to regret that the evidence we had to lay before the commissioners, and which would, in our opinion, have sufficiently cleared up that point, was not examined.
On the ringing of the alarm bell, the rush towards the gates leading into the market square was so great (attracted as has been before stated by curiosity) that those in front were irresistibly pushed forward by those in the rear, and if the chain had not broke, the lock must have given way to the pressure, and by this opening, it is but natural to suppose, that a number must have been shoved into the square, in front of the soldiers, who were drawn up in a line across the square, with Shortland at their head.
If, as the report now goes on to state, there was no direct proof before them of a previous concert or preparation on the part of the prisoners, and no evidence of their intention or disposition to effect their escape on this occasion, excepting that which arose by inference from the whole of the detailed circumstances connected together, had Mr. King examined the evidence on the part of the prisoners, as minutely as it seems he examined those on the part of Shortland, he could not even have drawn the shadow of an inference of that being their intention.
Where the commissioners got their evidence for asserting that Captain Shortland, by quiet means and persuasion, endeavored to persuade the prisoners to retire into their respective yards, is unaccountable to us, as those who know Captain Shortland, know he is not a man of persuasion. It is correct that Dr. M'Grath used every exertion to persuade the prisoners to retire out of the square, which if Shortland had allowed sufficient time, would have been quietly done; but the crowd, by this time, had become so great, and the pressure from the rear so strong, that those in front could not retreat until time should be allowed for those in the rear to fall back, but the hasty, haughty, and overbearing temper of Shortland, could not allow him to use such conciliatory means. He orders (the report says) fifteen file of the guard fronting the open gate, to the charge; and after some little time the charge was so effectual, with but very little or no injury to the prisoners, as to drive them, for the most part, quite out of the square, with the exception of a small number who continued their resistance about No. 1 gate. Under these circumstances, continued the report, the firing commenced.
Here we beg leave to request an attentive perusal of the affidavits of some of the prisoners, taken by the committee, and which relate particularly to this part of the transaction. It is there positively stated, that on the soldiers coming to the charge, the prisoners ALL retreated into the yard, and pushed the gate to after them. If the commissioners had examined the evidence, this part of the report ought to have been differently expressed.
We cannot conceive how Mr. King finds it difficult to reconcile the testimony respecting Captain Shortland's giving the orders to fire; when he reports that SEVERAL of the Americans SWEAR POSITIVELY, that Captain Shortland gave that order—and many of the soldiers and the English witnesses heard the word given by some one, but could not swear it was by Captain Shortland; and some of them (among whom is the officer commanding the guard) THINK, if Captain Shortland had given such an order, they must have heard it, which they did not. Thus, then, stands the foundation for this part of the report. An English officer THINKS it is not so, and several Americans SWEAR it is so; and he finds it very difficult to reconcile their testimony.—The lightness with which they seem to have passed over this most important point of that day's transaction, cannot but be deeply regretted by those who feel for the unhappy sufferers, when they go on to state, "It may remain a matter of doubt whether the firing first began in the square by an ORDER, or whether it was a spontaneous act of the soldiers themselves; it seemed clear it was continued and renewed both there and elsewhere, without orders—and that on the platforms and several places about the prison it was certainly commenced without any authority." We must once more request the attention of the public to the affidavits already published; it is there sworn by one of the witnesses, that PREVIOUS to the alarm bell being rung, and while walking in the yard, a soldier called to him from the walls, and told him to go in, as they would soon be fired upon. How, then, can it be possible, that a soldier on the walls should know that they would soon be fired upon, if the order had not been previously given to that effect? And had the bugle-man been examined, he could have stated that, previous to the ringing of the alarm bell, he received orders to sound to fire; so that when the soldiers took their stations on the walls, they were charged and prepared for that purpose. With such information, we conceive the committee to stand fully justified in stating in their report, the belief of its being a pre-concerted plan, on the part of Shortland; and if the commissioners had possessed themselves with a knowledge of these circumstances, which they could and ought to have done, would they, then, reported Shortland as justifiable, even in a military point of view?
The next thing we have to notice in the report is, that very singular paragraph, which says, "from the fact of the crowd being so close, and the firing at first being attended with very little injury, it appears probable, that a large proportion of the muskets were, as stated by one or two of the witnesses, levelled over the heads of the prisoners, a circumstance, in some respects, to be lamented." Is it, then, to be lamented, that the soldiers did not level their pieces, on the first fire, directly into the crowd, which they have stated to be so great and so close that a soldier declared he could not come fairly down to a charge? or is it to be lamented, that one or two hundred were not killed at the first discharge, and a thousand or two wounded? If so, we think it much to be lamented, that the reporters were not there, and placed foremost in the crowd.
The circumstance of so few being hurt at the first discharge is not strange to those who are acquainted with the situation; and this occurrence alone corroborates the American evidence, and ought to have been sufficient proof to the commissioners, that the prisoners upon being charged upon, retreated through the gates, and shut them after them, before the firing commenced; and which circumstance, alone, should have shut the door of justification against Shortland for commencing a fire upon them, as they were in their own yards. As this was the actual situation of the prisoners on the first discharge, and the soldiers having to fire through the iron paling, and the prisoners retreating on a descending ground, of course brought the muskets, when down to a level, over the heads of the prisoners—it was owing to this fortunate circumstance that so few were injured on the first discharge of the musketry; and it seems the inhuman Shortland was aware of this circumstance, when he was distinctly heard to order his soldiers to fire low. This does not appear to correspond with that part of their report which says, "Captain Shortland was in the market square, exerting himself in giving orders to stop the firing."
That there was any provocation given to the soldiers to justify their subsequent brutal conduct, the commissioners themselves seem to find it very difficult to trace any evidence, although they say, it appears, that there was some resistance made to the turnkeys in shutting the prison, and that stones were thrown at the military. Had they examined the prisoners sufficiently, they would have been convinced that no resistance was made to the turnkeys in shutting the doors. As to throwing stones at the military, while they were chasing them from corner to corner, and firing at them in every place where they had taken shelter from the balls, could it be expected but they would seize on something for self defence, when they saw the soldiers running at them with their bayonets, and having no possible means of escape, as it has been before stated, all the doors in the prisons had been previously closed except one, and that one perhaps, the length of the prison from him. Is there a man, in such a situation, but would seize on the first weapon that offered itself, and sell his life as dear as possible. How can they, then, make that the slightest justification for such outrageous conduct on the part of Shortland or the military?
As to most of the officers being absent is erroneous; it could have been proved that there was an officer in every yard, and in one instance where he was heard to give the order to fire on a party of prisoners close by the door, and running and making every exertion to enter the prison.
As to Captain Shortland being busy in the square with the turnkeys, receiving and taking care of the wounded, certainly shows the commissioners' want of correct information, for it is already before the public, in affidavit, the cruel manner in which the wounded were treated by him, and of his abuse to the prisoners who were bearing the wounded to the hospital gate. That part of the report which relates that the time and commencement of this transaction was the officers' dinner hour, is too ridiculous for a comment. We do not believe that there was a prisoner in the depot that knew when or where the officers dined, and therefore, can be no ground for an argument, that the prisoners were taking this opportunity to escape.
The report goes on to state, "the cross fire, which was kept up from several of the platforms on the walls round the prison, and directed against straggling parties of prisoners, running about the yard, endeavoring to enter the prison by the door which the turnkey left open, according to their usual practice, does seem to have been without object or excuse, and to have been a wanton attack upon the lives of defenceless, and, at the same time, unoffending individuals." In answer to this paragraph, we shall only reply, that had the commissioners examined ALL the American evidence, and attached the same credit to it, which it appears they have done to ALL the English evidence, similar expressions would have been made use of against Shortland's conduct throughout the whole of their report.
It appears to us, after an attentive examination of this report, that the commissioners meant to justify Shortland in commencing his murderous attack upon the prisoners, and to condemn the soldiers for continuing it. Singular as this idea appears, it is no less strange to us, how it can be possible they could reconcile it to their feelings to make up a report containing such a direct contradiction to reason; for surely if Shortland could be justified in using coercive measures in the first instance, the military certainly should be acquitted for the subsequent massacre, as the whole was conducted under his immediate command;—and if he had A RIGHT to kill one, on the same ground he might have extended it to a thousand. And, on the other hand, if any part of the transaction is to be condemned, Shortland should answer for the whole; for what necessity could there be made to attempt identifying any of the soldiers? Surely the commissioners could not think of bringing them to punishment, as they acted by the direct orders of Shortland and his officers!—and if any one could or ought to be made to answer for the outrage, it should be Shortland.
In addition to the contradictions contained in the commissioners' joint report, Mr. King, in his letter to his excellency J. Q. Adams, almost denies the ground on which they have, in part, founded Shortland's justification, when he says (alluding to have heard several Americans swear, positively, that Shortland did give the order to fire, and an officer of the guard thinking that he did not, as he should have heard him) "perhaps the bias of my mind was, that Shortland did give that order; and wishing the report to go forth under our joint signatures, I forbore to press some of the points so far as otherwise I MIGHT have done."
If, then, any part has been neglected, or passed over for accommodation, or any other purpose (and one there certainly has, in not paying the same attention to the American as was done to the English evidence) it is to be regretted that Mr. King should so far forget the sacred duties attached to the appointment of a commissioner to enquire into the murder of his countrymen, as to pass over any points which might have brought to light the means of punishment for the murder, or obtained in some measure an indemnity for the surviving unhappy sufferers.
Will not the shades of the departed victims haunt him in his midnight slumbers, and, pointing to their lacerated bodies, say, these still remain unavenged? Will not the unhappy survivors show the stumps of their amputated limbs, and say, these wounds fester, and still remain unatoned? Will not the widow and the helpless orphan raise their innocent hands to heaven, and cry, why was justice denied us? Why was the heart so callous to our sufferings? And why was the bosom shut to sympathy? Let Mr. King point out some means to appease these bitter complaints, and we shall be satisfied.
We shall now close these unpleasant remarks, by noticing another unaccountable error in Mr. King's letter to Mr. Adams, where he mentions, speaking of Shortland, "and his general conduct, previous to this occurrence, as far as I could with propriety enter into such details, appears to have been characterized with great fairness, and even kindness, in the relation in which he stood towards the prisoners."—We shall not pretend to ask Mr. King where he obtained the evidence on which he grounds this assertion; we are sure it was not from the prisoners, who ought to have been the best judges of that circumstance; but, instead of all that, all the Americans who were permitted to express an opinion on that subject, at the examination, declared, without reserve, as would all the prisoners in the depot, had they been asked the question, that Shortland's conduct, from the commencement of his appointment to that station, had been cruel, oppressive, and overbearing; and, instead of taking measures to alleviate the distresses of the wretched objects under him, as a feeling man would have done, he seemed to take a pleasure in harrassing them whenever he could find the slightest pretext for so doing.
W. Colton, Joseph Swain, Arch'd Taylor, David Ingalls, Reuben Sherman, Arch'd I. Mackay, Philip Black, Homer Hall, James B. Mansfield, Abr'm M'Intire, Wm. Cochran, Henry Dolliver, John Jones, B. Weeks, Wm. Demerell, Thomas Ward, William K. White.
REMARKS.
In presenting to the world the record of a transaction, probably the most barbarous which the history of modern warfare can furnish, we cannot refrain from remarks.—Whatever our feelings may be, upon a subject so amply calculated to excite the indignation and abhorrence of every friend to humanity, and every one who has respect for the laws of civilized and mitigated warfare, we will, nevertheless, refrain, so far as the circumstances of outraged humanity will permit, from the violence of invective, and wholly from unwarranted crimination. Those, into whose hands these documents may fall, will, however, preserve them as a monument erected to the memory of their slaughtered countrymen, and a memento of the unfeeling cruelty of our late enemy.
Though we are far from believing that there are not persons of noble and humane minds in the English nation, yet, a uniformity of conduct, on the part of the Government and its agents, has taught us to believe that they, at least, are blood thirsty and cruel.
The incarceration of Americans in the Jersey Prison Ship at New-York, and Mill Prison, in England, in the Revolutionary war, raised in the minds of the sainted heroes of those times, the most exalted feelings of indignation and abhorrence. The history of those prisoners, where hundreds were compelled to wear out an existence, rendered miserable by the cruelty of an enemy, professing a reverence for the sublime principles of Christianity, is already familiarized to the minds of the American people. If the feelings of Americans were then indignant, what should they be, on beholding those cruelties renewed with more than ten fold severity? The conduct of Thomas George Shortland, the agent at Dartmoor Prison, is such as should "damn him to everlasting fame."
Upon what principles the conduct of this man, precedent to the ever memorable 6th of April, 1815, can be justified, we cannot determine. The indiscriminate confinement of both officers and men in the same prisons, and those the most unfit, decayed, and loathsome of any which the Government could furnish, was an infraction of the established laws of civilized nations for the treatment of prisoners of war. It was equally abhorrent to the principles of humanity, and only sanctioned by British governmental agents, and those petty Nations of Savages, whose known usages of warfare have hitherto kept them beyond the pale of national law. The history of modern European wars can furnish no parallel to this part of the history of Dartmoor. But when we arrive at the slaughter of prisoners on the 6th of April, the climax of barbarity is complete, and the mind is sated with the contemplation of principles as shocking to humanity as the consequences are degrading to the character of the English nation.
An eminent writer upon national law, has formerly extolled the "English and French for their treatment given to prisoners of war," and at the same time mentions the case of Charles I. King of Naples, who, having defeated and taken prisoner Conrade, his competitor, caused him, together with his fellow-prisoner, Frederick of Austria, to be beheaded at Naples. Upon this case our author has the following pertinent remarks:—"This barbarity raised an universal horror, and Peter the third, King of Arragon, reproached Charles with it, as a detestable crime, till then unheard of among Christian princes. However, the case was of a dangerous rival contending with him for the throne. But, supposing the claims of his rival were unjust, Charles might have kept him in prison until he had renounced them, and given security for his future behavior." If this act of Charles raised an "universal horror," what should be the excitement produced by the cold blooded massacre of a number of unarmed and unoffending prisoners of war in confinement? Humanity shudders at the thought, and language furnishes no appropriate epithet with which to brand the infamous perpetrator of so foul, so hitherto unheard of a crime. Did that writer now live, he would no longer extol the humanity of the English nation, but in common with the friends of humanity, he would join in the "universal horror" which British cruelty has excited.
The complexion of this transaction is rendered still more dark and barbarous, and its criminality most shockingly enhanced, by the circumstances under which many of those unfortunate men became prisoners, and finally were offered up as victims to gratify the cruel and insatiate feeling of the British agent. They were American Citizens, who had been impressed into the service and bondage of Great Britain, in time of peace. They had served that government from a necessity, arising from the assumed principle of a right to search neutral vessels for British seamen, and the practice of taking Americans and compelling them to service. We cannot, however, too much applaud the magnanimity of those men, in refusing to fight against and slaughter their countrymen; nor can we too much detest the conduct of Great Britain, in confining them as prisoners of war.
This practice assumed as a right in the first moments of our existence as an independent and commercial nation, has "grown with our growth," and the evil thereof has increased in proportion as our commercial rivalship has become more alarming to the pride and injustice of Great Britain. It is a practice which cannot be traced to any principle of justification; and yet we have seen the legislators of Massachusetts, clothed with a garb of official sanctity, send to the world a report, amounting almost to a denial, that such a practice was in existence! We pretend not to judge of their motives: but we remark, how soon they are confounded by the report of Shortland and Magrath. By that instrument it appears, that of thirty-eight who were killed or wounded, twelve were of the number of Impressed Americans, who had given themselves up as prisoners of war, upon the commencement of hostilities. If this be the correct proportion of their prisoners, who have been impressed from American vessels, and as it is an official document of British authority, we cannot believe the ratio to be less, we see the advocates of British magnanimity confounded and put to shame, by the testimony of those same British agents, whose justification they have so eagerly, though unsuccessfully attempted. It might, indeed, have been supposed, that after having so frequently been treated with the same contempt, they might have learned sufficient caution, at least, to stay their measures until the pleasure of their transatlantic friends should be known. But their overweening anxiety has only tended to plunge them in deeper embarrassments, and should teach them, that more prudence and less zeal in the cause of a national enemy, might secure them a safer retreat in the moments when those whose friendship they had so anxiously sought, had deserted, and condemned them.
By the report of the Legislature of Massachusetts upon the subject of impressments, it would appear that no more than sixteen had been impressed from this Commonwealth. What must be our conclusion upon a comparison of this report, with that of Messrs. Shortland and Magrath? It is irresistable, either that the former did not report the full number of impressments, or that the latter have aggravated their guilt and condemnation, by swelling the number to a degree beyond what the facts would justify, from some cause, unknown to their American advocates, and in favor of the facts and principles, for which the American government have uniformly contended. A few of those assumed as facts, by the present dominant party in New-England, may aid us in this enquiry, and perhaps conduct us to a correct conclusion. They have repeatedly told us, that New-England, and more particularly Massachusetts, has ever been the nursery of our seamen. That this section had furnished more than the whole remaining part of the United States. Admitting the correctness of the report of Shortland and Magrath, we are wholly unable to reconcile the report of our Legislature with those which they assume as facts, and upon which the principles of their report were, in part, predicated. It exhibits to our view a disposition to fritter away the enormities of the British Government, and a determination to justify them in every act of barbarity, however unjustifiable in its circumstances, or however shocking in its operation.
The report of Messrs. King and Larpent may here claim a portion of our attention. Unpleasant as the task may be, to reflect, even indirectly upon the conduct of one of our countrymen, acting in the high and solemn capacity to which Mr. King was called, we cannot, however, without doing violence to our own feelings, and criminating numbers of our countrymen, perhaps equally entitled to credibility with Mr. King himself, afford our credence to his singular report; especially when we see it contradicted unconditionally, by the unfortunate witnesses of the unhappy and barbarous transaction.
Even Mr. King himself, in his letter to Mr. Adams, furnishes a tardy acknowledgment, that he had not completed the duties to which he had been called. "Considering it of much importance (he says) that the report, whatever it might be, should go forth under our joint signatures, I have forborne to press some of the points which it involves as far as otherwise I might have done." And why did Mr. King forbear to press every point involved in the report? Was it from a disposition to perform his whole duty to his country; or, rather, from a too common admiration of British principles and British characters.
The numerous affidavits accompanying the report made by the committee of the prisoners, together with the reply to the report of Messrs. King and Larpent, afford the most positive testimony in contradiction to many of its prominent features. We can form no other opinion respecting this report, than either that Mr. King was overreached by his colleague, or that he was pre-determined to fritter down the abuses which the British Government and its agents had lavished upon their American prisoners. Why either Messrs. King or Larpent should decline the examination of all the witnesses offered by the prisoners, is wholly inexplicable, unless we attribute to them a mutual and fixed determination to justify the conduct of Shortland and his accomplices, at the expense of criminating hundreds of Americans, who were no less entitled to credibility than either of themselves. Hereafter "let no such men be trusted."
The treatment of the prisoners appears to have proceeded from the same principles of inhumanity, which have given rise to the hostile operations of the British Commanders upon our maritime and inland frontiers, during the continuance of the late contest. Such principles belong only to Savages or their allies. The outrages at the river Raisin, Hampton, Havre de Grace, Washington, and those attempted at New-Orleans, it was thought, might have filled the measure of British barbarities. But to the prisons of Dartmoor was transferred the scene of its completion. Americans, armed in defence of their soil, their Constitution, and natural rights, were too invincible to the "veteran" conquerors of the East. Prisoners of war in confinement, and without arms, were selected as the objects upon which they might glut their malice.
We have heard much from a certain class of our politicians of the burning of Newark and St. David's; but little have they said of the destruction of Buffalo, of Washington City, or the massacre of our unfortunate countrymen at Dartmoor; and that little has been directed to the justification of the perpetrators. The conflagration of our Capitol, with the appendages of art and taste, and even the slaughter of our countrymen, could not excite in those minds one feeling of indignation; whilst the unauthorized destruction of a few houses, within the territorial limits of our enemy, not only excited their warmest sympathies for the enemy, but their foulest denunciations of our own Government.
We might here attempt a comparison of the treatment of each Government to their prisoners. But the contrast is so evident, that we shall commit it to our readers without remark.
Where is the American, whose feelings do not become indignant, after a full and dispassionate view of all the circumstances connected with this savage transaction. Though we may again be told, that Great Britain is the 'Bulwark of our Religion;' yet it may be hoped, that few, indeed, will be found to worship in a temple stained with the blood of their countrymen, or consign their consciences to the keeping of the upholders of the temple of Juggernaut, or the restorers of Papal power.
Though our policy as an Independent Republic is pacific, yet should our rights again be assailed, and future wars ensue, WE WILL REMEMBER DARTMOOR!
We here subjoin a letter from the Right Honorable Lord Castlereagh to our Commissioners at Ghent, with their answer, together with the reply of our Secretary of State to the British charge des affairs at Washington:
Lord Castlereagh to Messrs. Clay and Gallatin.
Foreign Office, May 22, 1815.
Gentlemen—I lost no time in laying before the Prince Regent the report made by Mr. Larpent and Mr. King, respectfully appointed on the part of his majesty's government, and that of the United States of America, to enquire into the circumstances of the late unfortunate occurrence at Dartmoor Prison.
His Royal Highness has commanded me to express, through you, to the government of America, how deeply he laments the consequences of this unhappy affair.
If any thing can tend to relieve the distress which his Royal Highness feels on this occasion, it is the consideration, that the conduct of the soldiers was not actuated from any spirit of animosity towards the prisoners, and that the inactivity of the officers may be attributed rather to the inexperience of militia forces, than to any want of zeal or inclination to afford that liberal protection which is ever due to prisoners of war.
But as his Royal Highness has observed, at the same time, with sincere regret, that although the firing of the troops upon the prisoners may have been justified at its commencement, by the turbulent conduct of the latter, yet that the extent of the calamity must be ascribed to a want of steadiness in the troops, and of exertion in the officers, calling for the most severe animadversion. His Royal Highness has been pleased to direct the commander in chief to address to the commanding officer of the Somerset militia, his disapprobation of the conduct of the troops, which it is trusted will make a due impression on the minds of the officers and men who were engaged in this unfortunate transaction.
As an additional proof of the sentiments which animate the Prince Regent on this occasion, I am further commanded to express his Royal Highness' desire to make a compensation to the widows and families of the sufferers; and I have to request that you, gentlemen, would make this known to your government, inviting them, at the same time, to co-operate with his majesty's charge d'affairs in the United States, in investigating the respective claims, for the purpose of fulfilling his Royal Highness' benevolent intentions upon this painful occasion.
I request that you will accept the assurance of the distinguished consideration with which I have the honor to be, &c.
| (Signed) | CASTLEREAGH. |
To Henry Clay, Esq. and Albert Gallatin, Esq.
Copy of a letter from Messrs. Clay and Gallatin, to Lord Castlereagh.
Hanover Street, Hanover Square, March 24, 1815.
My Lord—We have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your lordship's official note of the 22d inst.
Having, as we have already informed your lordship, no powers on the subject to which it refers, we will lose no time in transmitting it to our government.—We will also place in the possession of the American minister, near his Britannic majesty's government, whose arrival here we daily expect, a copy of your lordship's note, together with a statement of what had previously passed respecting the unfortunate event at Dartmoor.
We embrace the opportunity of tendering, &c.
| (Signed) | H. CLAY, |
| ALBERT GALLATIN. |
The Right Honorable Viscount Castlereagh, Secretary of State for the Foreign Department, &c. &c.
The Secretary of State to Anthony St. John Baker, Esq. his Britannic majesty's charge d'affairs.
Washington, Department of State, December 11, 1815.
Sir—I have the honor to receive your letter of the 3d of August, communicating a proposition of your government to make provision for the widows and families of the sufferers in the much to be lamented occurrence at Dartmoor.
It is painful to touch on this unfortunate event, from the deep distress it has caused to the whole American people. This repugnance is increased by the consideration that our governments, though penetrated with regret, do not agree in sentiment, respecting the conduct of the parties engaged in it.
Whilst the President declines accepting the provision contemplated by his royal highness, the Prince Regent, he nevertheless does full justice to the motives which dictated it. I have the honor to be, &c.
| (Signed) | JAMES MONROE. |
Anthony St. John Baker, Esq. his Britannic majesty's charge d'affairs.
From all which it appears that nothing further can now be done relative to this shocking transaction. The government and the people of America have similar feelings. His Royal Highness the Prince Regent of England offers to give money by way of compensating the widows and families of the slain, as was offered in the affair of the Chesapeake; but the President very properly refused the price of blood. There is now no constituted earthly tribunal before which this deed can be tried and punished, it is therefore left, like some other atrocities from the same quarter, with the feelings of Christian people. They have already tried it, and brought in their verdict.—But, "vengeance is mine, and I will repay saith the Lord;"—and to Him we leave it.
The night following the shocking massacre was spent in deep disquietude. As we knew not what had actually occasioned this, in some degree, deliberate slaughter, so we were filled with anxiety as to its final termination.—The horrors of Paris, under Robespiere, rose to view, and deprived us of sleep; or if wearied nature got a moment's relief, many waked up screaming with the impression, that they were under the hands of a murderer dressed in red.
The gates of our prison were closed up in the morning, and each one seemed describing to his neighbor what he had seen and heard; and every one execrating the villain who had occasioned the massacre. In the course of the day, a British colonel, whom we had never before seen, appeared at the inner gate, attended by the detestable Shortland, who was pale and haggard like ordinary murderers. The colonel asked us, generally, What was the cause of this unhappy state of things? We related some particulars as well as we could; but all united in accusing captain Thomas Shortland of deliberate murder. On Shortland's denying some of the accusations, the colonel turned round to him, and said, in a very serious tone, "Sir, you have no right to speak at this time." Upon which I thought the valiant captain would have fainted. He, doubtless, thought of a halter. The colonel went to the other yards, and received, as we were informed, statements not materially differing from what he first heard. The colonel's manner left an agreeable impression on our minds. He appeared to be seriously grieved, and desirous to find out the truth.
The next day major general Brown came up from Plymouth in the forenoon, and made some trifling enquiries in the afternoon. Soon after came admiral Rowley, and a captain in the navy, whose name I do not remember. They went into the military walk over the gates, when the space below was soon filled with prisoners. The admiral did not impress us quite so agreeably as the colonel, who seemed to speak and look his own good feelings; while the former appeared to have got his lesson, and have come prepared to question us like an attorney, rather than like a frank and open seaman. The admiral informed the prisoners that he was appointed by the commander in chief at Plymouth, to inquire, whether the prisoners had any cause for complaint against the British government, as to their PROVISIONS?—There ensued a short silence, until our countryman, Mr. Colton, a man who was neither intimidated by rank, nor disconcerted by parade, answered him and said, that "the affair of provisions was not the occasion of their present distress and anxiety, but that it was the horrid massacre of their unoffending and unresisting countrymen, whose blood cried from the ground, like the blood of Abel, for justice. We have nothing now to say about our provisions; that is but a secondary concern. Our cry is for due vengeance on the murderer, Shortland, to expiate the horrors of the 6th of April. We all complain of his haughty, unfeeling and tyrannical conduct at all times, and on all occasions."—"That we have nothing to do with," said the admiral, and then repeated the former question, relative to the British government and the provisions; to which Mr. Colton replied in a still more exasperated tone of accusation against the murderer and the murder. "Then you do not," said the admiral, "complain of the British government for detaining you here?" "By no means," said our spokesman, "the prisoners, one and all, ascribe our undue attention here, to a neglect of duty in our own agent, Mr. Beasly." "Then I hope," said the admiral, "that you will all remain tranquil. I lament AS MUCH AS YOU, the unfortunate occurrence that has taken place." Upon this Mr. Colton mentioned particularly the murder of the boy who was shut up in No. 4, after the prisoners were all driven in through the doors, and averred that he was killed by the direct order of a British officer, who came to the door with some of the guard. "That is the lobster-backed villain," exclaimed a young man, "that stands behind you, sir! who, I heard deliberately order his men to fire on the prisoners, after they had all got into the building. I saw him, and heard him give the orders, and had like to have been bayoneted myself by his soldiers."—The admiral looked round on the officer, who reddened almost to a purple, and sneaked away, and was seen no more; and thus was ended what was probably called Admiral R's examination into the causes of the massacre!
I know of no examination after this, if such an interview may be called an examination; for, on the —— of April, myself and a few others were set at liberty. We had made application the night before, and passed the night in sleepless anxiety. At 10 o'clock orders were sent down to collect our things. We dare not call our wretched baggage, by any other than the beggarly name of "duds." In consequence of this order, the turnkey conveyed us to the upper gate, where we remained a while fluttering between fear and hope. At length the sergeant of the guard came, and opened the gate, and conducted us to the guard room, where our fears began to dissipate and our hopes to brighten.—When the clerk entered, he must have seen anxiety in our countenances, and was disposed to sport with our feelings. He put on a grave and solemn phiz, mixed with a portion of the insolence of office, as if he were about to read our death-warrants, while we cast a look of misery at each other. At length, with apparent reluctance, he vouchsafed to hand to each of us, like a miser paying a debt, the dear delicious paper, the evidence of our liberty! on which was written, "by order of the transport board." This was enough, we devoured it with our eyes, clinched it fast in our fists, laughed, capered, jumped, screamed, and kicked up the dirt like so many mad men; and away we started for Princetown, looking back as we ran, every minute, to see if our cerœbrus, with his bloody jaws, was not at our heels. At every step we took from the hateful prison, our enlarged souls expanded our lately cramped bodies. At length we attained a rising ground; and O, how our hearts did swell within us at the sight of the OCEAN! that ocean that washed the shores of our dear America, as well as those of England! After taking breath, we talked in strains of rapture to each other. "This ground, said I, belongs to the British; but that ocean, and this air, and that sun, are as much ours as theirs; or as any other nations. They are blessings to that nation which knows best how to deserve and enjoy them. May the arm of bravery secure them all to us, and to our children forever!" Long and dismal as our captivity has been, we declared, with one voice, that should our government again arm and declare war, for "free trade and sailors' rights," we would, in a moment, try again the tug of war, with the hard hearted Britons; but with the fixed resolution of never being taken by them alive; or, at least, unwounded, or unmutilated. I see, I feel that the love of country is our "ruling passion;" and it is this that has and will give us the superiority in battle, by land and by sea, while the want of it will cause some folks to recoil before the American bayonet and bullets, as the British did at Chippewa, Erie, Plattsburg and New Orleans.
While the British prisoner retires from our places of confinement in good health, and with unwilling and reluctant step, we, half famished Americans, fly from theirs as from a pestilence, or a mine just ready to explode. If the British cannot alter these feelings in the two nations, her power will desert her, while that of America will increase.
After treading the air, instead of touching the ground, we found ourselves at the Devonshire arms, in Princetown, where the comely bar-maid appeared more than mortal. The sight of her rosy cheeks, shining hair, bright eyes, and pouting lips wafted our imaginations, in the twinkling of an eye, across the Atlantic to our own dear country of pretty girls. I struck the fist of my right hand into the palm of my left, and cried out—"O, for an horse with wings!" The girl stared with amazement, and concluded, I guess, that I was mad; for she looked as if she said to herself—"poor crazy lad! who ever saw a horse with wings?"
We called for some wine, and filling our glasses, drank to the power, glory, and honor, and everlasting happiness of our beloved country; and after that to all the pretty girls in America. During this, we now and then looked around us, to be certain all this was not a dream, and asked each other if they were sure there was no red coat watching our movements, or surly turnkey listening to our conversation? and whether what we saw were really the walls of an house, where ingress and egress were equally free? It is inconceivable how we are changed by habit. Situations and circumstances ennoble the mind, or debase it.
From what I myself experienced, and saw in others, on the day we left our hateful prison, I do not wonder that sudden transitions from the depressing effects of imprisonment, sorrow, chagrin, impatience, or feelings bordering on despair, to that of liberty and joy, should so affect the vital organs, as to bring on a fatal spasm; or that the sudden exhilarations of the animal spirits, might produce phrenzy. We were animated anew with a moderate portion of generous liquor; but absolutely intoxicated with joy. We asked a thousand questions without waiting for an answer. In the midst of our rapture we had a message from Shortland, who seemed to be afraid that we should be so near him, and yet out of his power, that if we did not hasten our march on to Plymouth, he would have us brought back to prison. At the sound of his hateful name, and the idea of his person, we started off like so many wild Zebras. We, however, stepped a little out of the road to an eminence, to take another, and a last look of the Dartmoor depot of misery, when we saw waving over it, the American flag, like the colors sans tache, waving over the walls of Sodom and Gomorrha. We gave three cheers, and then resumed our road to Plymouth, where we soon after arrived.
While dining at the inn, an old man, in the next room, hearing we were Americans, came in and asked us if we knew his son who lived in America, and mentioned his name. "Yes," said one of my companions; "he is a mechanic; I think a carpenter—I know him very well, and he is a very clever fellow." The old man caught hold of him, and shook him by the hand as if he would shake his arm off. "Yes, yes, you are right, my son is a ship carpenter, and it almost broke my heart when he went off to seek his fortune in a far country." In the fulness of his heart, the poor old man offered to treat us with the best liquor the house afforded; but we all excused ourselves and declined his generosity. This would have been carrying the joke too far, for neither of us ever had any knowledge of his son. We felt happy; and we thought, if we thought at all, that we would make the old man happy also. The English and Americans are equally addicted to bantering, hoaxing, quizzing, humming, or by whatever ridiculous name we may denote this more than ridiculous folly. I never heard that the French, Germans, Spaniards, or Italians, were addicted to this unbenevolent wit, if cowardly imposition can merit that name.
As we strolled through Plymouth, we gazed at every thing we saw, as if we had just fallen into it from the moon. In staring about we lost our way, and accosted a grave looking, elderly man, who directed us. As we asked him several questions, he thought he had a right to ask one of us; when, to our surprise, he asked us if we had any gold to sell? We now perceived that we had taken for our director one of the sons of Abraham, whose home is no where; and that he took us to be either privateersmen or pick-pockets. Piqued at this, we thought we would be even with him, and we asked him if his name was not Shortland? He said no. We asked him if he had no relations of that name. He enquired if "dit Shortland vas Jew or Christian?" We told him he was neither one nor the other. "Den," said Moses, "he must be Turk; for dere be but three sort of peoples in the world;" and this set us a laughing at the expense of the despised Israelite, until we lost him in some of the dirty alleys of this noisy seaport.
I slept that night at the Exchange Coffee House. It was so long since I had been cut off from the decencies of life, that I could hardly be said to enjoy them. I could not, at first, reconcile myself to the civil attention of servants and waiters. At the hour of sleep, I was shown to such a bed as I used to sleep on in my father's house. But who would believe it, that my predominant misery during this night, was a feather bed and a pillow, rendered uneasy because it was soft as down! Yes, astonished reader! I felt about as uneasy in a feather bed, as Mr. Beasly, or any other fine London gentleman would, at laying on a plank, or the ballast of a transport. Such is the power of habit, and such the effect of custom.
The next morning before I left my bed, I pondered over the events and conduct of the preceding day, but not with satisfaction, or self approbation. The seventh chapter of Ecclesiastes came fresh to my mind. I said to myself, adversity and constraint are more favorable to wisdom, than liberty and prosperity; or to express it in better words—"sorrow is better than laughter, for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better;" and for this maxim of wisdom we are indebted to a Jew.
We remained a fortnight longer in Plymouth, and learnt by degrees to relish civility. We were kindly noticed by several good people who seemed to be rather partial to us, Americans, than otherwise. While there, I heard but very little uttered against America, or Americans. We were spoken to, and treated infinitely better than at Halifax. By the time of our embarkation, which was the 23d of April, 1815, we felt considerable attachment to the people about us. We arrived at New-York the 7th of June following, without any thing occurring in the passage worth committing to paper, unless it be to record the striking contrast in our feelings in our passage to and FROM England.
My sensations on first setting my foot once more on my native soil, were such as I have not power to describe. Tears gushed from my eyes, and had I not been ashamed, I should have kneeled down and kissed the earth of the United States. I believe similar sensations, more or less fervent, fill the bosom of every American, on returning to his own country from British captivity. It is hardly possible that I shall, so long as my faculties remain entire, forget the horrors of the British transports, and several scenes and sufferings at Dartmoor Prison: yet I hope to be able, before I quit this world of contention, to forgive the contempts, the contumely, the starvations and filthiness inflicted on me, and on my countrymen, by an unfeeling enemy, while we remained in his power as prisoners of war.
"Return we, from this gloomy view,
To native scenes of fairer hue.
Land of our sires! the Hero's home!
Weary and sick, to thee we come;
The heart fatigued with foreign woes,
On thy fair bosom seeks repose.
Columbia! hope of future times!
Thou wonder of surrounding climes!
Thou last and only resting place
Of Freedom's persecuted race!
Hail to thy consecrated domes!
Thy fruitful fields and peaceful homes.
The hunter, thus, who long has toil'd
O'er mountain rude, and forest wild,
Turns from the dark and cheerless way,
Where howls the savage beast of prey,
To where yon curls of smoke aspire,
Where briskly burns his crackling fire;
Towards his cot delighted moves,
Cheer'd by the voice of those he loves,
And welcom'd by domestic smiles,
Sings cheerly, and forgets his toils."
POSTSCRIPT.
Some, to whom I had shown my Journal in manuscript, have thought that I had, now and then, expressed my feelings too unguardedly against some of the subjects of Great Britain, and some of my own countrymen. In consequence of this friendly remark, I have struck out a few passages, but have not been able to comply with all the wishes of my connexions. But, after all, had a political cant phrase or two been omitted, some good people would have been gratified, and the publication not the worse for it. I have severely suffered, felt keenly, and expressed myself honestly, and without malice. I may not have made due allowance for the conduct of certain officers and agents. I may not have entered, as far as I ought, into their situations; and there might have been reasons and excuses, that my chafed feelings prevented me from attending to. If so, the cool and candid reader, both here, and on the other side the Atlantic, will make that allowance which I could hardly make myself. I must, nevertheless, maintain, that I have expressed the feelings of the moment, and cannot now honestly alter my language; for whenever my soul calls up many occurrences in my captivity, my tongue and my pen will be found the faithful organs of my feelings.
I have endeavored to give due credit to the humane conduct of several sailors, soldiers, and private subjects of the enemy. But, if, at this period of peace, when it may be supposed that resentment was cooled down, I try to obliterate the impressions made by cruelty and by contempt, and find I cannot, then must the reader take it as a trait of the imperfect character of a young man, on whose mind adversity has not had its best effect.
If an animosity actually exists between the English and Americans, do you mend the matter by denying the fact? This animosity has been avowed to exist, within a few months past, in the parliament of England. The following article is extracted from a London paper.—In a debate, (Feb. 14th, 1816) a member said, "the spirit of animosity in America, would justify an increase of the naval force in the West Indies." This called up Lord Castlereagh, who said—"As to America, if it is said great prejudices exist there against us, it must be recollected that great prejudices exist here against her. It was," he said, "his most ardent wish to discountenance this feeling on both sides, and to promote between the two nations feeling of reciprocal amity and regard."
What has occasioned this avowed animosity in us towards the British? Our merchants, generally, feel not this animosity; neither is it to be found, in a great degree, amongst our legislators. How came we by it? Our sailors and our soldiers, who have been in British prisons, and on board British men of war, and transports, have brought with them this animosity home to their families and their friends. They tell them their own stories, in their own artless, and sometimes exaggerated way; and these are reported with, probably, high coloring; whereas, I have made it a point of honor, a matter of conscience, and a rule of justice, to adhere to truth; and am contented that the British reader should say all that fairness admits, to soften down the coloring of some of the pictures of British barbarity, provided he does not attempt to impeach my veracity.
Beside individual animosity, there may possibly be a lurking national one, thinly covered over with the fashionable mantle of courtesy. The conflicting interests of the two nations may endanger peace.—The source of national aggrandizement in both nations, is commerce; and the high road to them the ocean. We and the British are travelling the same way, in keen pursuit of the same object; and it is scarcely probable, that we shall be preserved in a state of peace, by abstract love of justice.
I have been disposed to allow that the conduct of our countrymen, while on board the prison ships, and at Dartmoor, was, at times, provoking to the British officers set over them; but never malignant, much less, bloody. It could be always traced to a spirit of fun and frolic, which our people indulge in beyond all others in the world; and this ought to be considered as one of the luxuriant shoots of our tree of liberty; for it is too harsh to call it an excrescence. It shows the strength, depth and extent of its roots, and the richness of the soil.
This Journal has not been published to increase the animosity now subsisting between the American and British people. So far from it, the writer pleases himself with the idea that this publication may remedy the evils complained of, or mitigate them; and cut off the source of deep complaint against the English, for their treatment of prisoners, should war rage again between the two nations. If the present race of Britons have not become indifferent to a sense of national character, their government will take measures to wipe off this stain from her garments. Let the nations of Europe inquire how the Americans treat their prisoners of war. If we treat them with barbarity, publish our disgrace to the wide world, and speak of us accordingly. But let them, at the same time, inquire how the English treated those of us who have had the great misfortune of falling into their hands; and let them be spoken of accordingly. My serious opinion is, that this little book will aid the great cause of humanity.
Although I, with some thousands of my countrymen, were inclosed in a large prison during the greater part of the war, it fared with us as with those people who seldom go out of their houses, who hear more news than those who are abroad in the world. It was, however, pretty much all of one sort; for we seldom saw any other American newspapers, than those of the fault finding, or opposition party. These were generally filled with abuse of the President, and of the government generally, and with praises of the English, which, in our situation, produced a strong sensation; as our support, our protection, our pride, our honor, were identified in the person of the President, and his administration. The efforts of the federal party in Massachusetts to embarrass and tie the hands of our government, and disgrace its brave officers, created in us all, a hatred of the very name of federalism. I record the fact, and appeal to all the prisoners who have now returned home, to confirm my assertion; and I declare I have erased not a little on this head, out of courtesy to a large and sanguine party; who have erred, and strayed from the right way, by not knowing the true character of the English.
I feel no animosity, or disrespect to any gentleman of the federal, or fault finding party; but they must excuse me for remarking, that their conduct, and their sentiments, as they appeared in messages, proclamations, speeches and resolves; and their combinations for withholding loans of money from government, with their denunciations of a war, waged professedly, and as we knew, really, for "Sailors' Rights," made an impression on our minds so decidedly against the federalists, that the very term federalism, was with us all, without one single exception, a term of deep reproach. Let him who doubts it, ask any prisoner who made a part of the six thousand confined in England during the two years of our late bitter war with the English, and he will be satisfied that I have "nothing extenuated, or set down aught in malice."
I hope and pray for UNION among ourselves; and that all party names and distinctions may be lost in that of AMERICANS.
"Henceforth, let Whig and Tory cease,
And turn all party rage to peace;
Rouse, and revive your ancient glory,
UNITE, and drive the world before you!"