Thus began two months of prison life that I shall dismiss with a few words, although, as I hinted, I could write a volume about it.
A huge prison, in which are confined some five or six thousand men (our numbers were swelled every day by new drafts of American prisoners and Frenchmen) is much like a city. We had theatrical companies, markets, and exchanges, and men quarrelled and gambled, and plied their trades or callings to some advantage. Time passed quickly, although one day was much like another. We were well guarded and fairly well fed, although clothing and foot-gear were at a premium.
My size and strength had apparently increased since I had left Belair. I stood six feet in height before I was nineteen years of age, and I afterwards added two inches more to this. In the sports, especially in foot-races and wrestling, I found myself a leader. Of course no one could live in such a community as this, even for a short time, without picking up a great deal of useful knowledge, besides imbibing much also that would serve no one in good stead except perhaps as a warning.
My knowledge of the French tongue enabled me to converse with the Frenchmen, and I whiled away many an hour by talking with them and reading a romance so smirched by constant handling as to be almost undecipherable. A small volume of Shakespeare, belonging to an ex-schoolmaster, who kindly loaned it to me, I pored over by the hour.
One day there came a little excitement in our life, and a great hallooing and huzzahing resounded through the prison. It was a reception tendered to a division of the crew of the luckless Chesapeake that was transferred from the hulks to join us. We got up an entertainment in their honor that evening.
Now to come to the evening of the 16th of September, 1813, that I can set down in this chronicle in large important letters; for on this date, by a combination of fortunate circumstances, I ceased to be a prisoner. It happened thus:
The officers attached to the military force stationed at the prison lived together in a small building at the southwest corner of the rectangle formed by the high walls. Through the building which they occupied a passage ran to a small postern-gate. On several occasions I had been over there bearing messages from the prison-keeper (I was one of the monitor officers in charge of the order of my section of the west wing). But of course I had never progressed further than the small antechamber that opened into the guard-room, where I would wait to secure an audience with the commandant or one of his subordinates.
Now on this day I was bound to see a strange condition of affairs—the orderly who generally stood at the door was missing from his post. It was past dusk, and as I pushed in I noticed that the entrance to the guard-room, usually filled with soldiers, was shut. I thought of giving a hail, but then perceiving also that the entrance into the main building was gaping wide, impelled by a sudden impulse I stepped across the threshold into the hallway. I could hear voices coming from somewhere; but a room to the right appeared to be empty; a candle was burning on top of a tall dressing-case, and there across the foot of a narrow cot lay spread the uniform of a Lieutenant; and a great bear-skin shako, with a tall plume, topped one of the bedposts.
Now I think to do what I did then took more courage than anything I have ever attempted. I gave a leap sideways into the room, and closed the door behind me. Actually panting from excitement, I tore off the rags which served me for clothing, and shaking from head to foot I donned the uniform. Luckily the clothes were made for a large man, and they fitted me to perfection. I glanced at myself in the glass as I put the towering head-gear on as a finishing-touch. I was a strange-looking object. My hair, which was long, was done sailor fashion down my back in a queue, but the locks straggled down my cheeks; and, young as I was, my appearance would have been improved by the use of a razor. But I gathered my hair on the top of my head, where it was kept by the weight of the shako, and then I stepped to the door. The voices had ceased, but I plainly perceived that some one was coming down the corridor, which was flagged with stone; the jingling of spurs echoed along the walls. Hastily I closed the door, and extinguished the light with a pinch of my fingers. It was good for me that I had done this, for whoever it was gave the door a push and thrust in his head. How he ever missed seeing me (for I could have struck him with my knee) I cannot see to this day. It was one of the general officers, and attired for duty evidently, as he carried a long sabre hitched under his arm.
"Humph! Not here," he said. "A pretty piece of business."