Fish and potatoes constituted the diet of the following day. What does our "dare devils" do, but reserve all their potatoes to serve as cold shot to fire at the fractious commander of their next neighbor, the Bellauxcean. Accordingly when they observed the old man stubbing backwards and forwards his quarter deck, and stopping now and then to peak over to our ship to see if we smuggled a bottle of liquor, they gave him a volley of potatoes, which was kept up until the veteran commander hailed our captain and told him that if the Americans did not cease their insult he would order his marines to fire upon them; but his threatenings produced no other effect than that of increasing the shower of potatoes; so that this brave British tar was compelled to seek shelter in his cabin; and then the potatoe-battery ceased its fire. When all was quiet, the old gentleman seized the opportunity of pushing on board of us. When he came on our quarter deck, rage stopped all power of utterance, he foamed and stamped like a mad man. At length, he asked Mr. Wilson how he could permit a body of prisoners under his command and control, to insult one of his majesty's officers in his own ship? To which Mr. Wilson replied, that he should use his influence to prevent a repetition of the insult, and restore harmony; and that he was sorry that his men should get into any difficulty with those of another ship; and he recommended moderation, but the old commander swore and raved terribly; when our worthy protector reminded him that he was not on his own quarter deck. The coolness of Mr. Wilson still further enraged our exasperated neighbor, and he left the ship execrating every one on board, and swearing that he would make complaint to the commodore.
When the prisoners saw how their own commander viewed the interference of another, they collected all the potatoes they could find, and I am sorry to add, pieces of coal, and as soon as he left the side of the Bahama, they pelted him till he fairly skulked under cover in his own prison ship. He directly drew his marines up in battle array, on his quarter deck, when the captain of the Bahama seeing his folly, and knowing his disposition, exerted himself to make every American go below, and enjoined upon them a cessation of potatoes. We gained, however, more by this short war, than most of the nations of the world, for it entirely removed the cause for which we took up potatoes against one of his Britannic majesty's officers, within ten leagues of the capital of his empire. I overheard captain Wilson say to the second in command, "these Americans are the sauciest dogs I ever saw; but damn me if I can help liking them, nor can I ever hate men who are so much like ourselves—they are John Bull all over."
In a course of kind and flattering treatment, our countrymen were orderly and easily governed; but when they conceived themselves ill treated you might as well attempt to govern so many East India tygers. The British officers in this river discovered this, and dreaded their combined anger; and yet the Americans are seldom or ever known to carry their vengeance to blood and murder, like the Spaniard, Italian and Portuguese.
A Swedish frigate has just arrived in the reach, to take away those good boys, the Norwegians. King Bernadotte sent them two and six pence a piece, to secure their affections, and provide them with some needed articles for their passage to Norway. A cartel is hourly expected from London, to take home some of their soldiers. The Leyden, an old Dutch 64, is preparing, at the Nore, to take us away.
We are induced to believe that our emancipation is nigh. We are every day expecting, that we, too, shall be sent home; but this hope, instead of inspiring us with joy and gladness, has generated sourness and discontent. It seems that the government of the United States give a preference to those who had enlisted in the public service over such as were in privateers. We have felt this difference all along. Again, the government are disposed to liberate the soldiers before the sailors, because their sufferings are greater than those of sailors, from their former mode of life and occupations. They were farmers, or mechanics, or any thing but seamen; and this makes their residence on ship-board very irksome; whereas, the sailor is at home on the deck or hold of the ship. Most of these soldiers were from the state of Pennsylvania and New York, and many from the western parts of the union. These men could not bear confinement like sailors; neither could they bear a short allowance of food; nor could they shirk[N] for themselves like a Jack tar. A sailor could endure with a degree of patience, restraints and deprivations that were death to landsmen. Many of these youthful soldiers had not long left their native habitations, and parental care, when they were captured; their morals and manners were purer than those of sailors. Such young men suffered not only in their health, but in their feelings; and many sunk under their accumulated miseries; for nourished by indulgence, in the midst of abundance, many of them died for want of sufficient food. These miserable beings were, as they ought to be, the first objects of the solicitude of government.
The prisoners were seen here and there, collected in squads, chewing together the cud of discontent, and grumbling at the imagined partiality and injustice of their rulers. These discontents and bickerings too often damped the joy of their prospect of liberation from captivity. The poor privateers' men had most reason for complaining, as they found themselves neglected by one side, and despised by the other.
The sufferings of soldiers, many of whom were militia, who were taken on the frontiers of Canada, are not to be withheld from the public. They were first stripped by the savages in the British service, and then driven before them, half naked to the city of Quebec; from thence they were sent, in ill-provided transports, to Halifax, suffering all the way, the torments of hunger and thirst. When they arrived at Melville prison, they were shocking objects to the prisoners they found there; emaciated, weak, dirty, sickly, and but half clothed, they excited in us all, commisseration for their great misery; and indignation, contempt and revenge, towards the nation who could allow such barbarity. The cruel deception practised on their embarkation for England, instead of going home; their various miseries on ship-board, where as landsmen, they underwent infinitely more than the sailors; for many of them never had seen the salt ocean; and their close confinement in the hold of a ship, gave them the idea of a floating hell. The captivity of the sailors was sufficiently distressing; but it was nothing to that of the wretched landsmen, who considered a ship at all times, a kind of dungeon. The transporting our soldiers to England, and their sufferings during their passage, and while confined in that country, has engendered a hatred against the British nation, that ages will not obliterate, and time scarcely diminish. We, Americans, can never be justly accused of want of humanity to the English prisoner.
If the young American wishes to see instances of British barbarity, let him peruse the journal of the campaigns under Armherst, Wolfe, Abercromby and others; there he will find that the British soldiers under these commanders, committed barbarities in the French villages, for which they deserved to be hanged. They even boasted of scalping the French. Every body of ordinary information in New England, knows that Louisbourg could not have been taken, without the powerful aid of the New England troops; yet in the historical journal by Knox, sanctioned by general Armherst, there is only the following gentlemanlike notice of our countrymen. The author, captain Knox, says that the transport he was in, was in miss-stays, and was in danger of being dashed to pieces on a ledge of rocks, when the master instantly fell on his knees, crying out—"what shall we do? I vow, I fear we shall all be lost; let us go to prayers; what can we do, dear Jonathan? Jonathan went forward muttering to himself—Do? I vow Ebenezar, I don't know what we shall do any more than thyself!" When fortunately one of our soldiers (who was a thorough bred seaman, and had served several years on board a ship of war, and afterwards in a privateer,) hearing and seeing the helpless state of mind which our poor New Englandmen were under, and our sloop drawing towards the shore, called out, "why, d—n your eyes and limbs, down with her sails, and let her drive a—e foremost, what the devil signifies your praying and canting now?" Ebenezar quickly taking the hint, called to Jonathan to lower the sails, saying he believed that young man's advice was very good, but wished he had not delivered it so profanely!!—and the soldier took the helm and saved the sloop. If captain John Knox should be living, the old gentleman would blush should he read this extract.
I have frequently thought that the over-rated and highly boasted British bravery and humanity, would find their graves in America. The treatment these soldiers experienced has stigmatised the English character, and deservedly so. It is not in the power of words, and scarcely in the power of the painter's pencil, to convey an idea of their wretchedness. They were covered with rags, dirt, and vermin. They were, to us, objects of pity, but to all others, objects of disgust; even we, their brothers, recoiled, at times, on approaching them. Was there any design in this? Did our enemies wish to impress their countrymen with an abhorrence of a yankee? How else can we account for a treatment which our people never experienced when prisoners of the Indians? No—the savages never starve their prisoners, nor deprive them the use of water. Dispirited, and every way disheartened, our poor fellows had, generally speaking, the aspect of a cowardly, low spirited race of men, and much inferior to the British. We here saw how wretched circumstances, in a short time, debases a brave and high spirited man. When people from the shore visited our ship, and saw our miserable soldiers, we do not wonder that they despised them. We sometimes had the mortification of hearing remarks in the Scotch accent, to this effect: "So, these are samples of the brave yankees that took the Guerriere and Java; it proves to a demonstration, that the American frigates were manned with British deserters."
The sailors often tried to spirit up the soldiers, and to encourage them to cleanliness; but it was in vain, as most of them were depressed below the elasticity of their brave souls; yet amidst their distress, not a man of them would listen to proposals to enter the British service. Every one preferred death, and even wished for it. The Americans are a clean people in their persons, as well as in their houses. None of them are so poor as to live in cabins, like the Irish; or in cottages, like the Scotch; but they are brought up in houses having chimnies, glass windows, separate and convenient rooms, and good bedding; and to all these comfortable things we must add that the poorest of our countrymen eat meat once every day, and most of them twice. To young men so brought up and nourished, a British captivity on board their horrid transports, and even on board their prison-ships, is worse than death. If we, Americans, treat British prisoners as they treat ours, let it be sounded through the world to our disgrace. Should the war continue many years, I predict that few Americans will be taken alive by the English.