A little dispute, if not quite a schism, has existed between Simon, the priest, and deacon John. The latter, while in the family of a royal Duke, had learned that it was proper to read prayers, already made, and printed to their hands; but Simon said, he should make but few converts if he _read_ his prayers. He said that prayers ought to spring at once, warm from the heart; and that _reading_ prayers was too cold a piece of work for him or his church. But John said, in reply, that _reading_ prayers was practised by his royal highness the duke of Kent, and all the n.o.ble families in England, as well as on board all his Britannic majesty's ships of war. But Simon, who had never waited on royalty, nor ever witnessed the religious exercises of an English man of war, would not believe this practice of the British nation ought to have weight with the reformed Christians of the _United States_. There was a diversity of opinion in the black church; and the dispute once grew so warm, that Simon told John, that it was his opinion, that "he who could not pray to his G.o.d, without a book, would be d.a.m.ned."

His majesty king d.i.c.k finding that this dispute might endanger the peace of the church, and, possibly, diminish his own influence, advised that the dispute should be left to the decision of a neighboring methodist preacher, who sometimes visited the prison, in a labor of love. The preacher came, and heard patiently, the arguments of both sides, and finally decided, as king d.i.c.k doubtless foresaw, in favor of Simon. He said that the reason why his royal highness the duke of Kent, and all the royal family, and all the n.o.bility and parliament men _read_ their prayers, was, because they had not time to make them, each one for himself. Now Deacon John was a better reasoner than Simon; but Simon had the most cant; and he, of course, prevailed.

It is probable that John had concluded, that if he could carry a vote for _reading_ prayers, he, himself, would be the reader; and then he should become as conspicuous as Simon. Emulation, and the desire of distinction, the great, and indeed main-spring of this world, was as apparent among these degraded sons of Africa, as among any white gentlemen and ladies in the land. John's ambition, and his envy, operated just like the ambition and envy of white people. At length, when the deacon found that, since the decision of the methodist, his supporters deserted him, he made his mind up to follow the current, and to justify his conduct by inculcating a spirit of conciliation and union. This shrewd fellow knew, that if he did not follow the current, he should lose the privilege he enjoyed of sitting at the end of the table, opposite to Simon; and of leaning his head on the great bible, while Simon was preaching; privileges too great to be slighted in such a church; and directly after a religious dispute.

Since I returned home, and while transcribing this journal for the press, I have thought that the conduct of deacon John was from the self same principle with that which actuated the federalists, since the dissolution and disgrace of the _Hartford Convention_. This faction, it seems, found themselves after the peace, and after the battle of New Orleans, going fast down the stream of popular opinion; and then it was that they preached up conciliation, liberality, and union; then it was they caught hold of the skirts of the land and naval heroes; nay, they went so far as to hail Jefferson and Madison as brother _Unitarians_! In short, the situation of black John, and the federalists of Ma.s.sachusetts, was exactly the same; and their conduct in every point, similar; and the leading federalists of Boston have been left, like the deacon of the negro congregation, in No. 4, Dartmoor prison, to lean upon the great bible; which sacred volume these persons are sending to all parts of the world, not being sufficiently awake to consider it will _democratize_ other parts of the world, beside America.

When the British General Prescott commanded at Rhode Island, in the revolutionary war, (the same whom our Major Barton stole, and carried off in the night, from his head quarters, in a whale boat) he was very much disliked for his silly haughtiness, and unbecoming pride. One day a Baptist preacher waited upon him to complain of an oppression exercised on some of his followers, by the military, and taking his bible out of his pocket, he began to read a pa.s.sage which he deemed applicable to the case; on sight of which the General flew into a rage, and drove the preacher, with his bible, out of the room, saying, "_if it had not been for that d--d book, we should not have had this rebellion_." Bating the profane epithet, we give the angry Scotchman credit for his sagacity. The observation would not have disgraced his countryman, David Hume.

Simon, the priest, enjoyed one great and envied privilege, which John never pretended to, namely, an acquaintance and intercourse with the angel _Gabriel_. He had many revelations from this celestial messenger, and related them to his church. They related princ.i.p.ally to the fate of his fellow prisoners; one, in particular, he told to his church with awe and solemnity.

I saw, said he, a great light, shining only through the grates of one window, before the hour of day break. I looked up, and saw something like a man with wings. I was at first frightened, and cried out, "_who comes dare?_" for I could not see his face. Directly the bars of the window beat each way, and his head and shoulders came in, when I knew him to be the angel _Gabriel_. "Simon," said he, "I am come to tell you that this prison will be sunk before forty days, because its inhabitants are so wicked, and will not repent." _Den I tank him_; and he drew back his head again; and the iron bars were restored to their place again, when he spread out his wings, which were covered with ten thousand stars, which made a great light when he flew away. Such was the method used, by this artful black man, to rouse his countrymen out of the sink of vice; and it had the desired effect. This prediction solemnized several of the negroes, and had more or less effect upon all of them. They became more liberal in their contributions, which enabled Simon to purchase a new green coat. It seemed as if the most profligate of these fellows, had a secret dread of Simon's prediction, and were willing to gain his favor by _contributions_, instead of repentance. Has not this disposition founded churches, monasteries and nunneries? Many of Simon's church are strongly impressed with the apprehension of the prison sinking within forty days.

These blacks have been desirous of having their prison the centre of amus.e.m.e.nt. They act plays twice a week, and as far as close imitation of what they have seen and heard, and broad grimace, they are admirable; but they are, half the time, ignorant of the meaning of the words they utter.--The gate-ways and century-boxes are plaistered over with play-bills, announcing--OTh.e.l.lO, for the first time, by Mr.

_Robinson_--DESDEMONA, by Mr. _Jones_. I seldom failed to attend these exhibitions, and must confess that I never before or since, or perhaps ever shall laugh so heartily as at these troglodyte dramas. Their acting was a.s.suredly the most diverting beyond all comparison, or example, I ever saw. They would cut so many negroish capers in tragedy, grin and distort their countenances in such a variety of inhuman expressions, while they kept their bodies either stiff as so many stakes, or in a monkeyish wriggle, and ever and anon such a baboon stare at Desdemona, whose face, neck and hands, were covered with chalk and red paint, to make _him_ look like a beautiful white lady--was altogether, considering that they themselves were very serious, the most ludicrous exhibition of two legged ridiculousness I ever witnessed. In the midst of my loud applauses, I could not, when my sore sides would allow me to articulate, help exclaiming--O!

Shakespeare! Shakespeare!--O! Garrick! Garrick!--what would not I give (an indigent prisoner) could I raise you from the dead, that you might see the black consequences of your own transcendent geniuses!--When Garrick rubbed himself over with burnt cork to make himself look like a Moor, or with lamp-black to resemble Mungo, it did pretty well; but for a negro man to cover his forehead, neck and hands with chalk, and his cheeks with vermillion, to make him look like an English, or American beauty, was too much. Had I been going up the ladder to be hanged, I should have laughed at this sight; for to all this outrageous grimace, was added a fantastic habiliment, and an odour from Desdemona and company, that a.s.sociated the ideas of the skunk or the polecat. I presume that their august majesties, the emperor and empress of Hayti, have some means of destroying this a.s.sociation of ideas, so revolting to Americans.

After all, this may be in us a disgust grounded more in prejudice than nature. What we call delicacy is a refinement of civilization; and of course a departure from nature. See how the brutes enjoy rolling and wallowing in what _we_ call dirt; next to them, we may observe the love of what _we_ call filth in savages, and of those persons in our cities who stand nearest to them. Extreme cleanliness is the offspring of riches, leisure, luxury, and extreme refinement; nevertheless it is true what Swift says, that "persons with nice minds have nasty ideas."

I suffered greatly, and so did many of our countrymen, on our first acquaintance with filth and vermin in this our British captivity. Many a time have I got up from my dinner as hungry as I sat down, when disgust has been greater than appet.i.te. I have, however, gradually surmounted antipathies I once thought insurmountable. I am not the only one who has often retired from our disgusting repast, to my bunk or sleeping birth, in silent agony, there to breathe out to my Maker, woes too great for utterance. _O, Britain! Britain!_ will there not be a day of retribution for these thy cruelties!

There are some in this dismal prison, who have been used all their lives, not to conveniences only, but to delicacies; who are obliged to submit to the disagreeables of this uncivilized mode of incarcerating brave men, for one of the first of Grecian, Roman, English and American virtues, the _love of country_, or _patriotism_. These unfortunate men, with minds far elevated beyond the officers who are placed here to guard, and to torment them, submit to their confinement with a better grace than one could have expected. When these men have eaten their stinted ration, vilely cooked, and hastily served up, they return to their hammocks, or sleeping births, and there try "to steep their senses in forgetfulness," until the recurrence of the next disgusting meal. On the other hand, some have said that they never before eat with such a keen appet.i.te; and their only complaint has been, that there was not one quarter enough for them to devour. I was often satisfied with a quant.i.ty of food that was not half enough for my companions. Some have since said, that they devoured their daily allowance at Dartmoor, with more relish than they ever have since, when set down at tables, covered as our American tables are, with venison, poultry, the finest fish, and the best fruits of our country, with choice old cider, and good foreign wines.

A thing very disagreeable to me, arose from causes not occasioned by the enemy. I have been squeezed to soreness, by a crowd of rough, overbearing men, who oft times appeared to be indifferent whether they trampled you under feet or not. The "_rough allies_," so called, had no feeling for men smaller and weaker than themselves. From this gang, you could seldom get a civil answer. Their yells, and whooping, more like savages than white men, were very troublesome. The conduct of these, proved that it was natural for the strong to tyrannize over the weak. I have often thought that our a.s.semblage of prisoners, resembled very much the Grecian and Roman democracies, which were far, very far, beneath the just, rational, and wisely guarded democracy of our dear America, for whose existence and honor we are all still heartily disposed to risk our lives, and spill our blood.

As not allowing us prisoners a due and comfortable portion of clean food, is the heavy charge I have to make against the British nation, I shall here, once for all, attempt to describe the agonies I myself sometimes felt, and observed others to endure, from cravings of hunger; which are keen sensations in young men, not yet arrived to their full growth. The hungry prisoner is seen to traverse the alleys, backwards and forwards, with a gnawing stomach, and a haggard look; while he sees the fine white loaves on the tables of the bread-seller, when all that he possesses cannot buy a single loaf. I have known many men tremble, and become sick at their stomachs, at the sight of bread they could not obtain. Sometimes a prisoner has put away a portion of his bread, and sworn to himself that he would not eat it until such an hour after breakfast; he has, however, gone to it, and picked a few crumbs from it, and replaced it; and sometimes he could no longer resist the grinding torments of hunger, but devoured it with more than canine appet.i.te; for it must be understood that the interval between the evening and morning meal was the most distressing. An healthy, growing young man, feels very uncomfortable if he fasts five hours; but to be without food, as we often were, for fourteen hours, was a cruel neglect, or a barbarous custom. Our resource from hunger was sleep; not but that the sensations of hunger, and the thoughts of the deprivation, often prevented me from getting asleep; and at other times, when wrapt in sleep, I have dreamed of setting down to a table of the most delicious food, and most savory meats, and in the greatest profusion; and amidst my imagined enjoyment, have waked in disappointment, agony and tears. This was the keenest misery I ever endured; and at such times, have I cursed the nation that allowed of it, as being more barbarous than Algerines or wild Indians. The comparative size of the pieces of beef and bread is watched with a keen and jealous eye; so are even the bits of turnip in our soup, lest one should have more than the other. I have noticed more acts of meanness and dishonesty in men of respectable character, in the division and acquisition of the articles of our daily food, than in any other transaction whatever. Such as they would despise, were hunger out of the question. The best apology I can make for the practice of gaming is, the hope of alleviating this most abominable system of starvation. Had we been duly and properly fed, we never should have run so deeply into the h.e.l.l of gambling. We did not want money to buy clothing, or wine, or rum, but to buy beef, and bread, and milk. I repeat it, all the irregularities, and, finally, the horrors and death, that occurred in a remarkable manner, in this den of despair, arose from the British system of scanty food for young men, whose vigorous systems, and habits of being full fed, demanded a third more solid flesh meat, than would satisfy a potatoe-eating Irishman, an oat-feeding Scotchman, or an half starved English manufacturer. After we have finished our own dinners in New England, we give to our cats and dogs, and other domestic animals, more solid nourishment, the remnant of our meals, than what we had often allowed us in the ships and prisons of "_the world's last hope_,"

Pickering's[T] "_fast anchor'd isle_."

Among the abuses of Dartmoor prison, was that of allowing Jews to come among us to buy clothes, and allowing some other people, worse than Jews, to cheat us in the articles we purchased. How far our keepers went "snacks" with these harpies, we never could know. We only suspected that they did not enjoy all their swindling privileges gratuitously. Before the immoral practice of gambling was introduced and countenanced, it was no unusual thing to see men in almost every birth, reading, or writing, or studying navigation. I have noticed the progress of vice in some, with pain and surprise. I have seen men, once respectable, give examples of vice that I cannot describe, or even name; and I am fearful that some of our young boys, may carry home to their hitherto pure and chaste country, vices they never had any idea of when they left it. I believe Frenchmen, Italians, and Portuguese, are much worse examples for our youth, than English, Irish, or Scotchmen. I must say of the British that they are generally men of better habits and morals than some of the continental nations.

But enough, and more than enough, on the depravity of the oldest of the European nations.

_February 28th, 1815._--Time hangs heavily on the weary and restless prisoner. His hopes of liberation, and his anxiety, increase daily and hourly. _The Favorite! The Favorite_, is in every one's mouth; and every one fixes the day of her arrival. We have just heard that she was spoken near the coast of America, by the Sultan, a British 74, on the 2d of February. If so, then she must arrive in a few days, with the news of the ratification or rejection of the treaty of peace, by Mr. Madison; and on this great event our happiness depends. Some of the English merchants are so confident that our President will ratify the treaty, that they are sending vast quant.i.ties of English manufactures out to Halifax, to be ready to thrust into the ports of America, as soon as we shall be able, legally, to admit them. It is easy to perceive that the English are much more anxious to send us their productions, than we are to receive them.

Our anxiety increases every day. We inquire of every one the news. We wait with impatience for the newspapers, and when we receive them are disappointed; not finding in them what we wish. They, to besure, speak of the sitting of the _Vienna Congress_; and we have been expecting, every day, that this political old hen had hatched out her various sort of eggs. We expected that her motley brood would afford us some fun. Here we expected to see a young hawk, and there a goslin, and next a strutting turkey, and then a dodo, a loon, an ostrich, a wren, a magpie, a cuckoo, and a wag-tail. But the old continental hen has now set so long, that we conclude that her eggs are addled, and incubation frustrated. During all this time, the Gallick c.o.c.k is on his roost at Elba, with his head under his wing.

We but now and then get a sight of Cobbett's Political Register; and when we do, we devour it, and destroy it, before it comes to the knowledge of our Ceroebrus. This writer has a manner _sui generis_, purely his own; but it is somewhat surprising, how he becomes so well informed of the actual state of things, and of the feelings and opinions of both parties in our country. His acuteness, his wit, his logic, and his surliness, form, altogether, a curious portraiture of an English politician. We, now and then, get sight of American papers; but they are almost all of them _federal_ papers, and contain matter more hostile to our government than the _English_ papers. The most detestable paper printed in London, is called, "_The Times_;" and that is often thrown in our way; but even this paper is not to be compared to the "Federal Republican," printed at Washington or Georgetown, or to the Boston federal papers. When such papers are shown to us by the English here we are fairly brought up, and know not what to say.

I cannot answer precisely for the impressions Governor Strong's speeches and proclamations have made on others, I can only answer for myself. They very much surprised and grieved me. I was born in the same county where Mr. Strong resided, and where I believe he has always lived and I had always entertained a respect for his serious character, and have, from my boyhood, considered him among the very sensible men, and even saints of our country; and all my connections and relations gave their votes for good _Caleb Strong_, on whose judgment and public conduct, my parents taught me to rely, with as much confidence as if he had actually been a thirteenth apostle. Just then what must have been my surprise, on reading his proclamations for fasts and thanksgivings, and his speeches and messages to the legislature and his conduct relative to the general government and the militia; and above all for his strange conduct in organizing a convention of malcontents at Hartford, in Connecticut. No event in New England staggered me so much. When we learnt that he proclaimed England to be "_the bulwark of the holy religion we profess_," I concluded that it was a party calumny, until I saw its confirmation in the attempts of his friends to vindicate the a.s.sertion. I then concluded that one of two things must have existed; either Mr. Strong had become superannuated and childish, or that the English Faction had got behind his chair of government and under the table of the counsel-board, and in the hollow panels of his audience chamber, and completely bewitched our political _Barzilla_. I suspected that gang of Jesuits, the _Ess.e.x Junto_, had put out his eyes, and was leading him into danger and disgrace. It is undeniable that Governor Strong has, in his public addresses, sided more with the declared enemy, Britain, than with his own national government; and that he has said a great deal tending to encourage the enemy to persist in their demands, and to pursue the war, than he has to discourage them. It appears, in truth, that the English consider him in a great measure their friend and well wisher.

Is it possible that Governor Strong can be deluded away by the missionary and bible societies of Old England, so as to mistake the English for a religious people? I am very confident that there is _less_ religion, or appearance of it, in London and in all their large cities, than in any other civilized country of the same numbers, in Europe. Their national churches are empty, while their streets and their harbors are full of lewdness; and they have more thieves, gamblers, forgers, cheats and bawds than any other nation upon earth.

Add to this, their laws are b.l.o.o.d.y, beyond modern example, their military punishments horrible, and their treatment of prisoners of war a disgrace to the name of Christians. Can Governor Strong be totally ignorant of the policy of some in patronizing bible and missionary societies? And does he not see the impracticability of the scheme contemplated by the latter? If we divide the known countries of the globe into thirty equal parts, _five_ will be found to be _Christians_, _six Mahometans_, and _NINETEEN Pagans_. It is difficult to believe that the first man, the governor and commander in chief of the great and respectable commonwealth of Ma.s.sachusetts, can seriously expect that the missionary societies of England and of Boston can effect this immense task or that it ever was the design of Providence that all the families of the earth should think alike on subjects of religion. Let us take things as the sons of men have always found them, and not presume to oppugn Providence, who has decreed that there shall be, every where, men of different colours, countenances, voices, manner of speaking, of different feelings and views of things, and also of different languages and of different opinions, as it regards the Deity, and his government of the world; and that among this great and doubtless necessary diversity of the views of him, we may have the most pure and rational system of any. Let us then enjoy that system, encourage a virtuous education and love one another, and leave to his direction and control the myriads of rational beings on earth, of which we, Christians, make so small a part. No, no, my countrymen, if Governor Strong will not attend exclusively to the mere affairs of the state, with its relative duties, and leave the great world to the legislation of its great Creator, you had better allow him to retire to Northampton, there to study in silence how to govern his own heart, and how to work out his own salvation, instead of continuing the tool of a turbulent and vicious party. I still think Mr. Strong is a man of good intentions, and an honest patriot; but that he has been deluded by artful men, who in their scheme of governing the whole nation have found their account in placing at the head of their party in Ma.s.sachusetts, a man of correct morals and manners, and of a reputed religious cast of mind. But Mr. Strong should reflect; and being a phlegmatic man, he is able to reflect calmly, and consider things deliberately. He should reflect, I say, on the impression his remarkable conduct must have on the minds of his countrymen, who have risked their lives, and are now suffering a severe bondage in that great national cause of "FREE TRADE AND NO IMPRESSMENT," which led the American people to declare war against Britain, by the voice of their representatives, in congress a.s.sembled. How strange, and how painful must it appear to us, and to our friends in Europe, that the governor of a great state should lean more towards the Prince Regent of Britain, than to the _President_ of the _United Stales_! If, therefore, we consider Mr. Strong as a sensible and correct man, and a true patriot, his conduct as _governor of Ma.s.sachusetts_, especially as to _the time_ of organizing a convention, of which the English promised themselves countenance and aid, must have appeared more than strange to us in captivity.

If we contemplate the character of the leading men of that party which put into office, and still support Governor Strong, and with whom he has co-operated, we cannot clear this gentleman of reproach.

Previously to our late contest with Britain, it was the unceasing endeavor of the leaders of the federal party to bring into discredit, and contempt, the worthiest and best men of the nation; to ridicule and degrade every thing American, or that reflected honor on the American Independence. So bitter was their animosity; so insatiate their thirst for power, and high places, that they did not hesitate to advocate measures for the accomplishment of their grand object, which was _to get into the places of those now in power_. How often have we seen the party declaring in their venal prints, that the American administration was base, and cowardly, and tamely suffering the outrages, abuses and contempt of the nations of Europe, without possessing the spirit to resent, or the power to resist them; and that "_we could not be kicked into a war_." Yet after the administration had exhausted every effort to bring England to do justice, and war was declared, these very federalists called the act wicked and inhuman; and denounced the President for plunging the country into hostilities with the mistress of the ocean, the most powerful nation of the earth! They called this _act_ of Congress, "_Madison's War_," and did every thing in their power to render that upright man odious in the eyes of the unthinking part of the community. This was not all; these arrogant men, a.s.sumed to themselves "_all the talents_," and "_all the virtues_" of the country, used every mean in their power to paralyze the arm of government, and reduce the energies of the nation, in the face and front of our adversary. By arguments and threats, they induced the monied men in Ma.s.sachusetts, very generally, _to refuse loans of money to government_; and to ruin our resources. Did not this party, denominated _federalists_, exult at the disasters of our arms; and did they not vote in the Senate of Ma.s.sachusetts, that "it was unworthy a religious and moral people, to rejoice at the immortal achievements of our gallant seamen?" In the midst of our difficulties, when this powerful enemy threatened us by sea and land, with an army force from Pen.o.bscot, another through Lake Champlain, another at the Chesapeake, while nothing but resistance and insurgency was talked of and hinted at within! Did they not in this state of things, and with these circ.u.mstances, did not Governor Strong, and the federal party generally, seize hold of this alarming state of our affairs, to call the _Convention at Hartford_, and that not merely to perplex the government, but to be the organ of communication between the enemy and the malcontents? Did they not _then_ talk loudly of our worm eaten Const.i.tution; and did they not call the Union "_a rope of sand_," that could no longer hold together? If there be a line of transgression, beyond the bounds of forgiveness, the _leaders_ of that party, who put Mr. Strong up for Governor, have attained it. These things I gather from the papers, and from the history of the day, as I have collected them since my return home. And to all this must be added the d.a.m.ning fact of _Te Deums_, orations, toasts, and processions of the clergy, and the judges, with all the leaders of the federal, or opposition party, in celebration of the success of the Spaniards in restoring the _Inquisition_, and recalling the _reign of superst.i.tion_ and _terror_; against which _we_ have been preaching and praying ever since the first settlement of our country.

Our American newspapers, if they are not so correctly written as the London papers, are informing and amusing.--They show the enterprize, the activity, and the daring thoughts of a free and an intrepid people; while the London papers are filled with a catalogue of n.o.bles, and n.o.blesses, who were a.s.sembled to bow, to flatter, to cringe, and to prink at the levee of the _Great Prince Regent_, the presumptive George the IVth, with now and then some account of his wandering wife, the _Princess of Wales_. We are there also entertained with a daily account of the health and gestation of _Joanna Southcote_; for whose reputation and welfare, "thinking Johnny Bull"

is vastly anxious; insomuch that were any continental nation to run obstinately counter to the popular opinion respecting her, we do deem it not impossible that the majority of the nation might be led to sign addresses to the Prince to go to war with them, in honor of Saint Joanna! Their papers, likewise, contain a particular account of the examination of rogues by the Bow-street officers, highway robberies, and executions; together with quack puffs, and miraculous cures.

These, together with the _most glorious_ and _unparalleled_ bravery of their _officers_ and _seamen_, and of their _generals_ and _soldiers_, with the highest encomiums on the _religion_, the learning, the generosity, _contentment_, and _happiness_ of the people of Britain and _Ireland_, make up the sum and substance of all the London papers, _William Cobbett's_ alone excepted; and he speaks with a bridle in his mouth!

This month (February) Captain Shortland stopped the market for six days, in consequence of some unruly fellows taking away certain wooden stanchions from Prison No. 6. But the old market women, conceiving that the Captain encroached upon their copy-hold, would not quietly submit to it. They told him that as the men were going away soon, it was cruel to curtail their traffic. We always believed that these market women, and the shop and stall keepers, and Jews, purchased, in some way or other, the unequal traffic between them and us. Be that as it may, Shortland could not resist the commercial interest, so that he, like good Mr. Jefferson, listened to the clamor of the merchants, and raised the embargo.

No sooner was quiet restored, and the old women and Jews pacified, but a serious discontent arose among the prisoners, on discovering that these Jews, of all complexions, had raised the price of their articles, on the idea, we supposed, that we should not much longer remain the subjects of their impositions. The _rough allies_, a sort of regulators, who were too stout, and most commonly too insolent, to be governed by our regular and moderate committees, turned out in a great rage, and tore down several of the small shops, or stalls, where slops were exposed for sale. These fellows, at length, organized themselves into a company of plunderers. I have seen men run from their sleeping births, in which they spent nearly their whole time, and plunder these little shop keepers, and carry the articles they plundered, and secrete them in their beds. These mobs, or gangs of robbers, were a scandal to the American character; and strongly reprobated by every man of honor in the prisons. Some of these little British merchants found themselves stripped of all they possessed in a few minutes, on the charge of exorbitant prices. We never rested, nor allowed these culprits to rest, until we saw the cat laid well on their backs. These plunderings were in consequence of informers, and there was no name, not even that of _a federalist_, was so odious with all the prisoners, as that of an _informer_. We never failed to punish an informer. Nothing but the advanced age of a man, (who was sixty years old) prevented him from being whipped for informing Captain Shortland of what the old man considered an injury, and for which he put the man accused, into the black hole. An informer, a traitor, and an avowed federalist, were objects of detestation at Dartmoor.

During the time that pa.s.sed between the news of peace, and that of its ratification, an uneasy and mob-like disposition, more than once betrayed itself. Three impressed American seamen had been sent in here from a British ship of war, since the peace. They were on board the Pelican, in the action with the American ship Argus, when fell our brave Captain Allen. One day, when all three were a little intoxicated, they boasted of the feats they performed, in fighting against their own countrymen; and even boasted of the prize money they had shared for capturing the Argus. This our prisoners could not endure; and it soon reached the ears of the _rough allies_, who seized them, and kicked and cuffed them about unmercifully; and they took one of them, who had talked more imprudently than the rest, and led him to the lamp iron that projected from one of the prisons, and would, in all probability, have hanged him thereon, had not Shortland rescued him by an armed force. They had fixed a paper on the fellow's breast, on which was written, in large letters, _a Traitor_ and _a Federalist_.

It may seem strange to some, but I am confident that there is no cla.s.s of people among us more strongly attached to the American soil, than our seamen, who are floating about the world, and seldom tread on the ground. The sailor who roams about the world, marks the difference of treatment, and exults in the superior advantages of his countrymen.

The American custom of allowing on board merchant ships the common sailors to traffic a little in adventures, enlarges their views, makes them think and enquire, and excites an interest in the sales of the whole cargo. The common sailor here feels a sort of unity of interest; and he is habituated to feel as a member of the floating store-house which he is navigating. It is doubtful whether the British sailor feels any thing of this.

I have had occasion often to remark on the tyrannical conduct, and unfeeling behaviour of Captain Shortland, but he had for it the excuse of an enemy; but the neglect of Mr. Beasley, with his supercilious behaviour towards his countrymen here confined, admits of no excuse.

He was bound to a.s.sist us and befriend us, and to listen to our reasonable complaints. When _negro John_ wrote to his Royal Highness the Duke of Kent, son of king George the 3d, and brother of the Prince Regent, he received an answer in terms of kindness and reason; but Mr.

Beasley, who was paid by our government for being our agent, and official friend, never condescended to answer our letters, and if they ever were noticed, it was in the style of reproof.--His conduct is here condemned by _six thousand_ of his countrymen; and as many curses are daily uttered on him in this prison. It is almost treason in this our dismal Commonwealth, or rather common misery, to speak in his favour. If Shortland and Beasley were both drowning, and one only could be taken out by the prisoners of Dartmoor, I believe in my soul, that _that_ one would be Shortland; for, as I said before, he has the excuse of an enemy.

The prisoners have been long determined to testify their feelings towards Mr. Beasley, before they left Dartmoor; and the time for it has arrived. The most ingenious of our countrymen are now making a figure resemblance, or effigy of this distinguished personage. One has contributed a coat, another pantaloons, another a shirt-bosom or frill, another a stuffed-out-cravat; and so they have made up a pretty genteel, haughty-looking-gentleman-agent, with heart and brains full equal, they think, to the person whom they wish to represent. They called this figure Mr. B----. They then brought him to trial. He was indicted for many crimes towards them, and towards the character of the United States. The jury declared him to be guilty of each and every charge; and he was sentenced by an unanimous decree of his judges, to be hanged by the neck until he was dead, and after that to be burnt. They proceeded with him to the place of execution, which was from the roof of prison No. 7, where a pole was rigged out, to which was attached an halter. After silence was proclaimed, the halter was fastened round the neck of the effigy; and then a solemn pause ensued; which apparent solemnity was befitting the character of men who were convinced of the necessity of the punishment of the guilty, while they felt for the sufferings and shame of a fellow mortal. After hanging the proper time, the hangman, who was a negro, cut him down; and then the _rough allies_ took possession of him, and conducted him to a convenient spot in the yard, where they burnt him to ashes. This was not, like the plunder of the shop-keepers, the conduct of an infuriate mob; but it was begun and carried through by some of the steadiest men within the walls of Dartmoor prison.--They said they had no other way of testifying their contempt of a man, who they supposed had injured them all, and disgraced their country. Such was the fact; as to the justness of their charges, I have nothing to say. I hope Mr. B. can vindicate his conduct to the world; and I hope this publication may lead to a thing so much wished for. The accusations of the mult.i.tude are commonly well founded, but often too high coloured. If this gentleman has never been censured by our government, we may conclude that he has not been quite so faulty as has been represented.

During all this solemn farce, poor Shortland looked like a culprit under sentence of death. Some of the rogues had written, with chalk, on the walls, BE YOU ALSO READY!--This commander's situation could not be an enviable one. He was, probably, as courageous a man as the ordinary run of British officers; but it was plainly discoverable that he was, half his time, in dread, and during the scene just described, in terror, which was perceivable amidst his affected smiles, and a.s.sumed gaiety. He told a _gentleman_, belonging to this depot, that he never saw, nor ever read, or heard of such a set of _Devil-daring, G.o.d-provoking fellows, as these same Yankees_. And he added, _I had rather have the charge of five thousand Frenchmen, than FIVE HUNDRED of these sons of liberty; and yet_, said he, _I love the dogs better than I do the d.a.m.n'd frog-eaters_.

On the 30th of March we received the heart-cheering news of the total defeat of the British army before NEW-ORLEANS, with the death of its commander in chief, Sir _Edward Pakenham_, and Generals _Gibs_ and _Kean_, with a great number of other officers, and about five thousand rank and file killed and wounded; and what appeared to be absolutely incredible, this unexampled slaughter of the enemy was achieved with the loss of less than twenty killed and wounded on our side. Instead of shouting and rejoicing, as in ordinary victories, we seemed mute with astonishment. Yes! when we saw the Englishmen walking with folded arms, looking down on the ground, we had not the heart to exult, especially as the war was now ended. I speak for myself--there was no event that tended so much to reconciliation and forgiveness as this immense slaughter of the English. We felt that this victory was too b.l.o.o.d.y not to stifle loud exultation.

We had heard of Generals Dearborn, Brown, Scott, Ripley, Gaines and Miller, but no one knew who _General Andrew Jackson_ was; but we said that it was a New-England name, and we had no doubt but he was a full blooded yankee, there being many of that name in New-Hampshire, Ma.s.sachusetts, Vermont, Rhode Island and Connecticut.--But I have since heard that he was a village lawyer in Tennessee, and a native of South Carolina.

The more particulars we hear of this extraordinary victory, the more we were astonished. We cannot be too grateful to Heaven for allowing us, a people of yesterday, to wind up the war with the great and terrible nation, the mistress of the ocean, in a manner and style that will inspire respect from the present and future race of men. Nothing now is thought of or talked of, but _New-Orleans_ and _Jackson_, and _Jackson_ and _New-Orleans_. We already perceive that we are treated with more respect, and our country spoken of in honorable terms. The language now is "we are all one and the same people. You have all English blood in your veins, and it is no wonder that you fight bravely!" Sometimes they have uttered the slang of "_The Times_," and cast reflections on the government, and on President Madison, but we have always resented it, nor do we ever allow any one to speak disrespectfully of our ill.u.s.trious chief magistrate.

About the middle of the present month, (March) we received the news of the landing of _Napoleon_ in France, while every one here supposed him snug at Elba. The news came to England, and pa.s.sed through it like thunder and lightning, carrying with it astonishment and dismay. But as much as they dread, and of course hate Bonaparte, the British cannot but admire his fortune and his glory. There are a number of Frenchmen yet here; and it is impossible for man to shew more joy at this news from France. They collected together and shouted _Vive l'Empereur!_ and the yankees joined them, with _huzza_ for Bonaparte; and this we kept up incessantly, to plague the British. The English bear any thing from us with more patience, than our expressions of affection for the Emperor Napoleon. Now the fact is, we care no more for the French, than they do for us; and there is but little love between us; yet we _pretend_ great respect and affection for that nation, and their chief, princ.i.p.ally to torment overbearing surly John Bull, who thinks that we ought to love n.o.body but him, while he himself never does any thing to inspire that love.

About the 20th of this month, we received the heart cheering tidings of the RATIFICATION OF THE TREATY OF PEACE, by the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. This long expected event threw us all into such a rapturous roar of joy, that we made old Dartmoor shake under us, with our shouts; and to testify our satisfaction we illuminated this depot of misery. Even Shortland affected joy, and was seen more than once, like Milton's Devil, to "_grin horribly a ghastly smile_."

As there can be now no longer a doubt of our being soon set at liberty, our attention is directed to the agent for prisoners for fixing the time, and arranging the means. Mr. Beasley had written that as soon as the Treaty was ratified, he would make every exertion for our speedy departure. He must be aware of our extreme impatience to leave this dreary spot, whose brown and gra.s.sless surface renders it a place more proper for convicts, than an a.s.semblage of patriots.

We are all watching the countenance and conduct of our surly keeper, Shortland: and it is the general opinion that he is deeply chagrined at the idea of no longer domineering over us. It may be, also, that the peace may reduce him to half pay. I, myself, am of opinion, that he is dissatisfied at the idea of our escaping his fangs, with whole skins; and his dark and sullen countenance gathers every day additional blackness.

_April 4th._--The contractor's clerk being desirous to get off his hands the hard biscuit, which had been held in reserve in case of bad weather, attempted to serve it out to the prisoners at this time; but the committee refused to receive it. Nothing but _hard_ bread was served out to them this day. In the evening, several hundred of the prisoners entered the market square, and demanded their _soft_ bread; but it was refused. The officers persuaded them to retire, but they would not, before they received their usual soft bread. The military officers, finding that it was in vain to appease them, as they had but about three hundred militia to guard five or six thousand, complied with their request, and all was quietness and contentment.

During this little commotion, Captain Shortland was gone from home. He returned next day, when he expressed his dissatisfaction at the conduct of the military, who he said, should not have complied with the demand of the prisoners. As it was, however, past, and the prisoners were tranquil, and no signs of disturbance remaining, he grew pacified.

On the 4th of April, we received intelligence, which we supposed correct, that seven cartel ships were to sail from the Thames for Plymouth, to transport us home, and that several more were in preparation. This inspired us with high spirits, and good humor; and I distinctly remember that the prisoners appeared to enjoy their amus.e.m.e.nts, such as playing ball and the like, beyond what I had ever before observed. We all, in fact, felt light hearted, from the expectation of soon leaving this dreary abode, to return to our dear homes, and adored country. But how was the scene changed before the light of another day! Dead and wounded men, blood and horror, made up the scenery of this fatal evening!

The best account that could possibly be given, is that of a respectable committee, selected from among the best characters in this large a.s.semblage of American prisoners. The greater part of this committee, were men of no mean talents. They were not young men, but had arrived at that period of life, when judgment is the soundest, and when pa.s.sion does not betray reason. The anxiety of all to know the truth, and the solemn manner in which the evidence was collected and given, stamped the transaction with the characters of truth. I did not see the beginning of this affray. I was, with most of the other prisoners, eating my evening's meal in the building, when I heard the alarm bell, and soon after a volley of musketry. There were, I believe, before the alarm bell rung, a few hundred prisoners, scattered here and there about the yards, as usual; but I had no idea of any particular collection of them, nor had I any suspicion of any commotion existing, or meditated. But I forbear; and will here insert the report of the committee, in the correctness of which I place an entire confidence.

DARTMOOR Ma.s.sACRE.

Having seen in print several different statements of the ma.s.sacre of the American prisoners of war at Dartmoor, and, on perusal, finding, that, though they corroborate each other, as to the leading facts, yet it seems the public are not in possession of all the particulars necessary to form a proper judgement of the same.

While in prison, we having been members of the committee through whom was transacted all their public business, and through whose hands pa.s.sed all their correspondence with their agent in London, and having in our possession several doc.u.ments relating to the before mentioned brutal butchery, we deem it a duty we owe to our murdered countrymen and fellow-citizens in general to have them published.

Respecting the conduct of T. G. SHORTLAND, (commander-of the depot of Dartmoor) prior to the b.l.o.o.d.y and ever memorable sixth of April, it was a series of continued insult, injury and vexation to the prisoners generally. Incapable of appreciating the beneficial effects of the liberal policy of a gentleman, his sole study appeared to be devising means to render the situation of the prisoners as disagreeable as possible. To instance a few of his proceedings will sufficiently warrant the foregoing a.s.sertion. His conduct to the American officers was marked with peculiar baseness and indignity. In the construction of the depot at Dartmoor, there was a separate prison, built and enclosed for the more commodious accommodation of those officers (prisoners of war) who were not considered by them ent.i.tled to a parole. Instead of Shortland allowing those officers to occupy that prison, they were turned into the other prisons promiscuously, with their men. His conduct to the prisoners generally was of the same stamp. There not being, at any time, a sufficient number to occupy all the prisons, he kept the two best, which were built by the Frenchmen during their confinement, and more conveniently fitted for the accommodation of prisoners, shut and unoccupied, while the upper stories of those prisons in which the Americans were put, were in such a state that on every rain storm the floors were nearly inundated. The pernicious effect this had on the health of the prisoners may be easily judged of by the great mortality that prevailed among them during the last winter season.

Another instance of his murderous disposition, was his ordering his guards to fire into the prisons, when, at any time, a light was seen burning during the night, as specified in the general report. While the Frenchmen were confined in that depot, it was a custom for the turnkey, with a sentry, to go into each prison, and see the lights extinguished at a stated hour; although frequently lighted again there was no further molestation. Instead of pursuing this plan with the Americans, Shortland gave orders for the guards to fire into the prisons whenever there should be a light burning. Frequently, on the most trivial occasions, he would prevent the prisoners, for ten days at a time, from purchasing, in the market, of the country people, such articles of comfort and convenience as their scanty means would admit of. His last act of this kind, was but a short time previous to the ma.s.sacre, and his alledged reason for it was, that the prisoners would not deliver up to him a man who had made his escape from the black hole, (a place of confinement for criminals) and had taken refuge among the prisoners in general. This man was one of a prize-crew, who was confined in that dark and loathsome cell, on a short allowance of provisions, from June, 1814, until the ratification of the treaty.

On that man being demanded, the prisoners stated to Shortland, that they did not presume that the British government would expect them to stand sentry over each other--that he might send his turnkeys and soldiers in and look for the man, but they would not seek him and deliver him up--upon which he ordered the military to fire upon the prisoners, but owing to the coolness and deliberation of the then commanding military officer, in restraining them, this order was not obeyed.