Theirs was indeed a hard lot. This last-mentioned brute, Dyer, took note of no sickness until it was too far gone to be treated, and refused patients admission to the hospital until the last moment: for fear, he said, of spreading the disease. They were, as Mr. Phillpotts says, denied many privileges and advantages allowed to Frenchmen of the lowest class; they were shut out from the usual markets, and had to buy through the French prisoners, at 25 per cent. above market prices.
On May 18, 1813, 250 more Americans came from the Hector hulk, and on July 1, 100 more.
July 4, 1813, was a dark day in the history of the prison. The Americans, with the idea of getting up an Independence Day celebration, got two flags and asked permission to hold a quiet festival. Captain Cotgrave, the Governor, refused, and sent the guard to confiscate the flags. Resistance was offered; there was a struggle and one of the flags was captured. In the evening the disturbance was renewed, an attempt was made to recapture the flag, the guard fired upon the prisoners and wounded two. The feeling thus fostered burst out into a flame on July 10, when the ‘Romans’ in the two upper stories of No. 4 Prison collected weapons of all sorts, and attacked the Americans unexpectedly, with the avowed purpose of killing them all. A terrible encounter was the result, in the midst of which the guards charged in and separated the two parties, but not until forty on both sides had been badly wounded. After this a wall fifteen feet high was built to divide the airing ground of No. 4.
Andrews describes the clothing of the prisoners as consisting of a cap of wool, one inch thick and coarser than rope yarn, a yellow jacket—not large enough to meet round the smallest man, although most of the prisoners were reduced by low living to skeletons—with the sleeves half-way up the arms, a short waistcoat, pants tight to the middle of the shin, shoes of list with wooden soles one and a half inches thick.
An epidemic of small-pox broke out; complaints poured in to Beasley about the slack attention paid to it, about the overcrowding, the consequent vermin, and the frauds of the food contractors, but without results. Then came remonstrances about the partiality shown in giving all lucrative offices to French prisoners, that is to say, positions such as one sweeper to every 100 men at threepence a day, one cook to every 200 at fourpence halfpenny; barber at threepence; nurses in the hospital at sixpence—all without avail. As a rule the Americans were glad to sell their ration of bad beef to Frenchmen, who could juggle it into fancy dishes, and with the money they bought soap and chewing-tobacco.
At length Beasley came to see for himself, but although he expressed surprise at the crowding of so many prisoners, and said he was glad he had not to be in Dartmoor, he could promise no redress.
Andrews alludes to the proficiency of the French prisoners in the science of forging not only bank-notes, but shillings out of Spanish dollars which they collected from the outside of the market, making eight full-weight shillings out of every four dollars. The performers were chiefly officers who had broken parole. The ordinary run of Dartmoor prisoners, he says, somewhat surprisingly, so far from being the miserable suffering wretches we are accustomed to picture them, were light-hearted, singing, dancing, drinking men who in many cases were saving money.
Wooden Working Model of a French Trial Scene
Made by prisoners of war at Dartmoor
Isaac Cotgrave he describes as a brutal Governor, who seemed to enjoy making the lot of the prisoners in his charge as hard as possible, and he emphasizes the cruelty of the morning out-of-door roll-call parade in the depth of winter; but he speaks highly of the kindness and consideration of the guards of a Scottish Militia regiment which took over the duty.