During this month great numbers died of the small-pox, and some of other diseases. Several entered the king’s service. Suspicions had arisen, that several taken in arms against Great Britain, were British subjects; they were consequently taken out, and charged with having committed high treason. That they were taken in arms against Great Britain, was not denied; but that they were her subjects, which was the most essential part of the charge, could not be proved; they were consequently acquitted, and remanded to prison.

We had but one clear day during the whole month of August.

September commenced, and we remained in the situation just described. The prisoners continued very sickly.

Men, otherwise commonly honest, when reduced to extreme necessity, naturally resort to the commission of crimes. It is a maxim strikingly true, that “hunger will break through a stone wall;” and it is equally true, that it will break through all moral obligation. Honesty and integrity are but mere chimeras in dire necessity. Such was our situation, that it resembled more a state of nature than a civilized society. Petty larcenies were daily committed among the prisoners; brothers and the most intimate friends stealing from each other. To provide a remedy against this evil, we appointed a legislative body, to form a code of laws for the punishment of all such misdemeanors. A tribunal was also formed to try and convict all criminals according to law and evidence. Many were tried, found guilty, and sentenced to receive twenty-four lashes equally as severe as is given at the gangway of a man-of-war ship.

To show the force of habit, though it is a vicious one, we will give the reader a striking example. Some of the prisoners were so attached to chewing tobacco, that they sold all their day’s allowance of beef to the French at the gate, to purchase one chew. They sometimes sold this allowance to buy soap enough to wash one shirt, but this was only enduring one evil to remedy a worse.

By letters received from our fellow-prisoners on board the Crowned Prince, and the Nassau, prison ships at Chatham, we received information that the Americans were distributed among the French prisoners on board the several different ships at that place, and very severely used; that they had vainly addressed Mr. Beasley, and that several had died and numbers entered the British service.

By letters received from Stapleton, we were informed of the particulars of their march from Plymouth, which we promised to give the reader in a former part of this work. The reader will remember, that at the commencement of their journey, they were allowed a shilling a day for traveling expenses, and on their way, they had to pay three pence a night to lodge in a barn, or some public building, on straw. As they were allowed a shilling only, this took one-quarter of the whole. With much ado they reached Stapleton; they found the prison at that place well constructed for the convenience of the prisoners, within a short distance of the city of Bristol; which is the third city in England, and situated in Somersetshire, at the conflux of the river Avon, with the small stream of the Froom, about ten miles from the mouth of the Severn; these, and several other small tributary streams, running through a fertile country, bring into market all kinds of provisions and fruits common to the country, which are sold at a much cheaper rate than at most other places in the kingdom. From these sources, the market at Stapleton, which is kept every day at the prison, is supplied with all kinds of market produce. On their arrival they found five thousand French prisoners. There are three prisons enclosed and garrisoned in the same manner as those at Dartmoor; they were distributed among the French prisoners in the different prisons. They had also written to Mr. Beasley several times, and informed him, that their situation was bad, although much better than that at Dartmoor, and required his attention. But he was determined to take no notice. They therefore concluded, that no arrangement was to be made for their exchange, or that any assistance was to be offered from the government of the United States, made necessity an excuse for entering the service of the enemy of their country; which many did at that place.

How far this is a crime, when we consider the quo animo? I shall take this opportunity to show what is the custom of nations, and what appears to be the law of nature. It is said, “If a person be under circumstances of actual force and constraint, through a well-grounded apprehension of injury to his life or person, this fear, or compulsion, will excuse his even joining with either rebels or enemies in the kingdom, provided he leaves them whenever he hath a safe opportunity.”

Now to return to Dartmoor. At a time when the prisoners had despaired of any relief, and began to reconcile themselves to their hard fate, they were very agreeably surprised to hear that Mr. Reuben G. Beasley had condescended to visit them, and then waited at the gate for admittance. The idea, that their deliverer had come, diffused a general joy through the whole prison, and “lighted up a smile in the aspect of woe.” The soldiers and guards were ordered into the prison, and turned out every man, both sick and well; overhauled the hammocks, swept the prison, and opened the window-shutters: all filth was removed and every thing made clean, for the first time since our arrival. The guards were then stationed at the door, to prevent any prisoner from going in, to have any communication with the agent: we were told, that no man could speak to him, or have any communication with him whatever. At three o’clock, the entrance of Mr. Beasley was announced by the turnkeys. We arranged ourselves in the yard, in anxious expectation of the glad tidings he might bring. He appeared, attended with his clerks, the clerks of the prison, and a very numerous train of soldiers. As he entered the yard of the prison, we presented a frightful appearance, in our yellow uniform, wooden shod, and meager, lantern-jaws. He felt the sight, and seemed much surprised at the group. We stood in silent expectation; he moved along to the prison; but how were our feelings damped at this moment! when we expected from him the language of consolation and relief, he only uttered, in a careless tone to his clerks, “that he did not think that the number had been so great!”

He entered, and cast his eyes around the cold wet walls of the prison, and seemed to say, with a shrug of his shoulders, “I am glad that it is not I that is to live here.” When he returned, we were determined to have some conversation with him. We therefore collected round him, demanded what arrangements were made for our relief, whether we must expect to remain in our present condition? Telling him, that if we must, that we could not long survive; and presenting him with a list of names of those who had already entered the king’s service; and telling him all the particulars of our distress. He then opened his mouth, and said, he had no power to do any thing, nor any funds to do with; but he would do his endeavor. We asked him the cause of so great a difference in the treatment of the prisoners here and at Halifax? There they had all the necessaries and conveniences of life; here we had none of them. We asked him to whom we should apply for relief in future? We told him we had been to great expense, heretofore, and much trouble, in conveying letters to him, while he had not thought fit to answer. He said the exchange of prisoners was stopped for the present year, and that we could not expect to have our condition altered. With these unwelcome observations, he went immediately out of the gates, and left us to all the wretchedness of despair.