Among the prisoners were gray-haired men, and boys from thirteen to seventeen years of age. For the latter a school was established, to instruct them in reading, writing, and arithmetic. Soon another welcome letter was received, announcing that the United States would hereafter clothe them. Clad in clean new, though coarse clothing, they now trod the yards of their prison with a manly bearing. The sense of inferiority was gone, and the characteristic boldness and independence of the American seamen again shone forth. They would argue with English officers on the war, repel insult, and denounce every act of cruelty or fraud as freely as if on their own soil.
The English Government having resolved to make Dartmoor the general depôt of the prisoners, fresh arrivals soon swelled the number to fourteen hundred. 1814. Being now in a better condition, they resolved to celebrate the approaching 4th of July with becoming pomp. American colors were obtained, two hogsheads of porter and some rum purchased, and a grand dinner of soup and beef prepared. Early in the morning the flag was run up, and as it flaunted to the wind, "All Canada, or Dartmoor prison for ever!" was seen inscribed upon its folds. At eleven the prisoners assembled, while the walls around were lined with the English soldiers and officers and clerks, curious to hear what kind of an oration a Yankee sailor would make. Mounted on a cask, the orator launched at once into the war, showed how we had been forced into it by the injustice of England, and dwelt with great unction on the separate naval victories the brave tars had gained. Dinner followed, the grog circulated freely, toasts were given, and a song composed expressly for the occasion sung. Mirth and hilarity ruled the hour, and the walls of that old prison shook to the deafening cheers and boisterous mirth of these sons of the ocean.
Soon after a plan of escape was put in execution, and for a long time proceeded without detection. Every prisoner was sworn to secresy, and a court organized to try any informer, who in case of conviction, was to be hung. Shafts were sunk in the ground—the hole at the top being carefully concealed—and broad excavations began and worked towards the walls, beyond which they were to come to the surface. A traitor, however, was found, who for the price of his liberty revealed all.
From time to time some of the prisoners made their escape, but most of them were retaken before they reached the sea-board.[12]
The number of prisoners continued to increase, so that by autumn, over five thousand were congregated in the prison. Before they were released, the number was swelled to five thousand six hundred and ninety-three. Frequent collisions occurred between them and the officers, which embittered the animosity of the latter, and finally brought on a bloody catastrophe.
With the approach of winter great suffering was experienced. The malignant small-pox again broke out, and raged with fatal violence amid this army of men.
The news of the treaty of peace, however, dissipated, for a time, all their gloom, and diffused joy and hope through the prisons. The word "Home," was on every man's lips, and a speedy release from that den of horrors and suffering was expected. But the gloomy winter passed, and spring came, without mitigating their condition or restoring them to freedom. The prisoners became exasperated. The two countries having been so long at peace, they felt themselves entitled to their freedom. They were no longer prisoners of war, but by the very act of the treaty, American freemen. They burnt Mr. Beasely, the American agent, in effigy, railed at their keepers, and swore they would make their escape by violence if not soon released.
On the fourth of April, Captain Shortland having gone to Plymouth, they were not allowed any bread. Bearing the privation patiently, for thirty-six hours, they resolved to break open the store-house and supply themselves. So at dark as the officers entered the yard and cried out, "Turn in! Turn in!" a signal previously agreed on was given, and in an instant the excited thousands moved in one dark mass towards the gates. One after another gave way before the tremendous pressure, and these maddened hungry men rushed around the depôt of provisions, their shouts and cries ringing over the alarm bells and beat of drums, that summoned the garrison to arms. The alarm spread to the neighboring villages, and the militia began to pour in. In a few moments the soldiers advanced with charged bayonets towards the multitude, when they were sternly ordered off by the prisoners, who swore that if they dared fire or charge, they would charge in turn, and level that store-house to the ground, and march out of prison. The officers, fearing the result of such a contest, prudently promised to give them their usual supply if they would retire to their respective prisons. They did so, and quiet was restored. The bold and successful manner in which the Americans had overawed the soldiery and coerced submission to their demands, irritated them highly, and made them wish for a good opportunity to retaliate. April 6. This was soon furnished. Two days after, Captain Shortland, who had returned, observed a hole in that portion of the inner wall which separated two of the prison yards from the barracks, and suspecting, or pretending to suspect it was made by the prisoners for the purpose of escaping, he immediately ordered the alarm bells to be rung and the drums to beat. The prisoners, surprised and excited, rushed towards the gates of the yard to ascertain the cause of the alarm. The thousands behind pushing forward the thousands before, they became packed in an impenetrable mass at the entrance, and the pressure was so great that some were forced out through one of the gates that gave way. In the midst of the confusion, Shortland entered the inner square with the whole garrison. The soldiers advanced close to the throng, when the prisoners retired towards their respective yards. Doubtless amid such a vast and motley collection of men, many taunted the soldiers, provoked them, and dared them to fire. Still they yielded before the bayonet, and entered their own yard. The gates were shut, but a large crowd remained in the passage, provoking the soldiers, from whom they were separated by an iron railing, and threatening them with vengeance. While in this position the order to fire was given. Immediately the massacre commenced. Volley after volley was poured into the terrified crowd, pushing down and trampling on each other in their haste to reach the shelter of the prisons. Men were killed in the act of supplicating mercy, others were shot down while struggling to enter the prison doors. It was cold-blooded murder, and before all the prisoners could get within the walls, over sixty were killed or wounded. When the living had all escaped to a place of shelter, and the carnage was over, the prison yard presented a ghastly spectacle. The man of sixty, the sailor in his prime, and the boy of fifteen, lay scattered around, while the groans of the wounded were borne to the ears of the enraged prisoners within. A sullen silence fell on those gloomy structures, the flags were raised half-mast, in token of mourning, and the prisoners assembled together and appointed a committee to report on the matter.
Although the coroner's jury over the slain gave a verdict of justifiable homicide, our Government took up the matter, and appointed Charles King to meet Mr. Larpent, the English commissioner, and investigate it. In their report no one was declared culpable, though it was freely admitted wrong had been done. Mr. King was severely censured for his conduct, but it was not easy to come to a just conclusion, when the testimony of the two parties were so entirely at variance. Mr. Larpent was bound to believe the assertions of Captain Shortland and his troops, as much as Mr. King those of the prisoners. Capt. Shortland declared he never gave the order to fire, and attempted to arrest it after it had begun. This, of course, the prisoners denied, some of them swearing they heard him give the order. One thing, however, is certain; Mr. King never should have let this massacre of Americans pass, with so slight a condemnation as it received at his hands. In the first place, there is good reason to doubt whether Captain Shortland believed there was any great danger at all. A hole in a wall, only large enough to admit the passage of a single man at a time, could easily be stopped up without ringing alarm bells and beating drums, especially as that hole communicated with only two out of five of the yards, and when in three of these yards the prisoners were walking about in their usual quiet manner. Nor could he believe they meditated an escape, when they had just received word that preparations were nearly completed for their restoration to liberty. Where could they escape to without money or clothing? Besides, if they wished to free themselves by violence, why did they not do it two days before, when they had completely cowed the soldiers and had only to march forth without farther resistance.
In the second place, he deserved disgrace and punishment, for allowing the soldiers to press on the multitude, when he saw them evidently, or the great mass of them, retiring to their prisons. To fire on a mob, unless they are pressing forward to assail authority and force, is brutal. If he gave the order to fire, he should have been hung. If he did not, he should be held responsible for having such undisciplined troops under his command. An act like this cannot be committed and nobody be deserving of reprehension. The commander of a garrison cannot so escape responsibility. The probability is, enraged at the conduct of the prisoners in forcing the soldiers to yield to their demands two days before, he resolved to punish the first attempt at insubordination, and irritated at the insolence and taunts of some of them, he in a fit of passion gave the order to fire. Conscience-smitten afterwards, and fearing disgrace and punishment, he endeavored to cover up the dark transaction.