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?"