Our next difficulty was with the old Dutchman, named Badiem, who furnished our prison with provisions. He had already learned the difficulty of cheating a Yankee; for the Americans who were carried away in the Denmark had been in this same prison, and had taught the old man that they were rougher customers than the Frenchmen who had preceded them. We gave him another lesson.
He undertook to wrong us and benefit himself by furnishing a very inferior article of bread. After counselling among ourselves, we took the following plan to bring him to his senses:
We were visited every day by a superior officer, called the officer of the day. He was a kind old man, who had seen service in the war of the revolution, and was at the battle of Bunker Hill. He had a profound respect for the American character, and could not speak of that great action without tears. One day a friendly sergeant being on duty, we gave him a piece of the old Dutchman’s bread, complaining bitterly of its quality. When the old officer came round as usual, on a fine, dashing charger, and asked his customary question of “All right?” our friend the sergeant replied, “No, sir!”
“What is the matter?” asked the venerable old gentleman.
“The prisoners complain of their bread, sir,” said the sergeant.
“Let me see it,” answered the general. The sergeant gave him a small piece. He examined it, wrapped it up carefully in some paper, clapped the spurs to his horse, and rode off. The next day, we had better bread than ever before, and an order came for a man from each room to go with the sentry to the town every morning, to examine our daily provision; and, if not what it should be, to reject it. This completely upset the golden visions of the old Dutchman. With much choler he exclaimed, “I had rather have one tousand Frenchmen, than one hundred Yankees.”
We could not now complain of our fare. We had an abundance of beef and mutton, beside a full allowance of bread, &c. The beef, to be sure, was poor, lean stuff, but the mutton was excellent. The sheep at the Cape have a peculiarity, which may cause the reader to smile. They have enormously large, flat tails, weighing from twelve to twenty pounds. These are regularly sold by the pound for purposes of cookery. Should any one treat this statement as a forecastle yarn, I refer him to the descriptions of these sheep, given by travellers and naturalists.[23]
Besides our prison allowance, we had opportunity to purchase as many little luxuries and niceties as our slender finances would permit. These were furnished by a slave, who was the property of the old Dutchman, and who was so far a favorite as to be indulged with two wives, and the privilege of selling sundry small articles to the prisoners. This sable polygamist furnished us with coffee, made from burnt barley, for a doublegee (an English penny)[24] per pint; the same sum would purchase a sausage, a piece of fish, or a glass of rum. On equally reasonable terms, he furnished us with blackberries, oranges, &c. Our men, who, by the way had eaten fruit in every quarter of the globe, and were therefore competent judges, pronounced the latter the best in the world. The berries afforded me a rich treat at Christmas.
To obtain means for the purchase of these dainties, our men braided hats, wrought at mechanical employments, or at such pursuits as their respective tastes and capacities suggested. These occupations served to beguile our confinement of much of its tediousness.