Sept. 8.—We embarked on board of boats to descend the river to Quebec—we arrived very late at the mouth of the river Sorel, and were immediately landed; passing two lines of soldiers with charged bayonets, to a large stone house, and were shut close during the night. Notwithstanding our repeated calls for water not a drop would they allow us; neither would they permit us to pass out in any case whatever. At sunrise we were turned out and ordered to the boats, and were permitted to cook our breakfasts on the shore, provided we could find fuel near us, for they would allow us none but what we could pick up about the boats. It is somewhat singular that our officers, (many of whom were with us) could be so regardless of our situation. Had they manifested the same spirit for the welfare of their men in captivity, that they did in active service, we should never have been so shamefully abused. Sergeant Tracy of the late Capt. Baen's company, was the only man among us who had spirit enough to speak openly to the British officers of our treatment in this case—they said that our being closely confined was without the orders of the commanding officer; and the officer who commanded the guard had been severely reprimanded for his conduct—poor consolation enough for our sufferings.
Sept. 9.—We embarked and continued on our passage—four of our men were missing.—At sunset we arrived at Cornwall—were landed, and marched into the jail yard, which appeared by the filth about us, to have been a rendezvous for all the hogs of the village. The gate was closed upon us, and we spread our blankets upon the ground and lay quietly until morning. We tarried here the following day, and no man was permitted to leave the yard on any consideration whatever.
Sept. 11.—We proceeded on our passage, and about 4 o'clock, P.M. arrived at a town called Three Rivers; here our guard was relieved by a company of the Glengary regiment. In this company we recognized several of the former soldiers of the 4th regiment, who had deserted us on our march through Pennsylvania.
Sept. 13.—We arrived at Quebec; and were immediately put on board two transport ships laying in the river; and here commenced the greatest of our sufferings as prisoners of war. The weather was cool and we were destitute of sufficient clothing; the provision which was dealt out to us was fit for none but hogs. Each man received three sea biscuit for his daily allowance, about the size of a saucer; these were full of small worms, and we drew no better bread while we continued on board. Beef and pork was given us once a week, in quantities too small to satisfy our appetites. We also drew peas, rice, and oatmeal, which after being boiled they called Burgoo, or some such name;—it was bitter and not at all palatable even to stomachs as hungry as ours. We complained, petitioned, and remonstrated against such treatment; but no notice was taken of us whatever. The healths of the men in a short time began to waste away, and another vessel was prepared to receive the sick. The weather becoming too cool for our comfort, we were supplied with blankets, and in a short time afterwards we found ourselves covered with vermin, which no doubt we received from these blankets, as they were old, and had probably been used on board of other prison ships, previous to our arrival. We formed a kind of police on board to keep ourselves as clean and make our situation as comfortable as possible, and each of the decks above and below was scraped and washed down once a day;—we had no soap allowed us to wash our clothing, neither had we money to buy a single article for our comfort; and even if we had, the extravagant price demanded for all articles, would have taken nearly the whole pay of a soldier for one year to supply him with necessaries for a month.
Many of the men died here, and were buried back of the city. Our situation became alarming, and a petition from the prisoners was drawn up to be forwarded to the Commanding Officer at Quebec; but we received the agreeable news that we were to be sent home on parole, and of course it was withheld. Nothing could exceed the joy manifested by the prisoners on the reception of this pleasing intelligence. Capt. Baker, a few days previous arrived with money to pay off the men; but only a few of the non-commissioned officers were paid, as it was considered improper to give all the men their wages, in consequence of the high price demanded for necessaries. Potatoes were sold on board for half a dollar a peck, while they were selling in the city for half a dollar per bushel; prices in the same proportion were set upon all the articles we stood in need of.
Oct. 26.—Some of the non-commissioned officers were permitted to go on shore and purchase necessaries for us on the passage; and had the privilege of selling articles to the men, which was a great relief to us, although they also demanded an exorbitant price for their goods;—taking advantage of the privilege given them to help their suffering comrades, many of them had the niggardly meanness to turn it into a speculating business;—however, there were a few nobler minded ones, who did all in their power to alleviate our sufferings;—such were sergeants Wright, Jennison, and Forbush, to whom many of the men are indebted for their friendly assistance during our confinement.
Oct. 27.—The officers of the regiment who had been quartered in the vicinity of Quebec arrived on board to take their passage with us to Boston.
Oct. 29.—Early in the morning we set sail from Quebec in company with another transport with prisoners, for Boston.
Nothing of consequence took place except the death of one or two of our men, until we arrived in the Gulph of St. Lawrence, where we experienced a severe gale of wind, which drove us on our course at an amazing rate. During this gale our situation was truly distressing; some were sea-sick, others were frightened, and all expected to be lost. Late at night, breakers was cried out by the hands on deck, and those among us who could be of any service, sprang from their births, and assisted the seamen to put about the ship.
Nov. 14.—We had cleared the Grand Banks, and were far out at sea, with very boisterous weather; many of the men had died and were cast overboard. The weather was so foul and cloudy that no observation could be taken, and the Captain of the vessel had been unwell during the whole passage, and it was deemed necessary to make the nearest port. We steered a N.W. direction, and on the 20th Nov. we discovered land directly ahead, and made all sail for it.