While at Dartmoor Prison, there came certain French officers wearing the white c.o.c.kade; their object seemed to be to converse with the prisoners, and to persuade them to declare for Louis 18th; but they could not prevail; the Frenchmen shouted _vive l'Empereur!_ Their attachment to Bonaparte was remarkably strong. He must have been a man of wonderful powers to attach all ranks so strongly to him. Before the officers left the place, these Frenchmen hoisted up a little dog with the white c.o.c.kade tied under his tail. Soon after this the French officers, who appeared to be men of some consideration, left the prison.

I have myself had nothing particular to complain of; but the prisoners here speak of Captain Shortland as the most detestable of men; and they bestow on him the vilest and most abusive epithets. The prisoners began to dig a hole under prison No. 6, and had made considerable progress towards the outer wall, when a man, who came from Newburyport betrayed them to Capt. Shortland. This man had, it was said, changed his name in America, on account of forgery.--Be that as it may, he was sick at Chatham where we paid him every attention, and subscribed money for procuring him the means of comfort. Shortland gave him two guineas, and sent him to Ireland; or the prisoners would have hanged him for a traitor to his countrymen. The hypocritical scoundrel's excuse was conscience and humanity; for he told Shortland that we intended to murder him, and every one else in the neighbourhood.

Shortland said he knew better; that "he was fearful of our escaping, but never had any apprehensions of personal injury from an American; that they delighted in plaguing him and contriving the means of escape; but he never saw a cruel or murderous disposition in any of them."

The instant Capt. Shortland discovered the attempt to escape by digging a subterraneous pa.s.sage, he drove all the prisoners into the yard of No. 1, making them take their baggage with them; and in a few days after, when he thought they might have begun another hole, but had not time to complete it, he moved them into another yard and prison, and so he kept moving them from one prison to the other, and took great credit to himself for his contrivance; and in this way he harra.s.sed our poor fellows until the day before our arrival at the prison. He had said that he was resolved not to suffer them to remain in the same building and yard more than ten days at a time; and this was a hardship they resolved not voluntarily to endure; for the removal of hammocks and furniture and every little article, was an intolerable grievance; and the more the prisoners appeared pestered, the greater was the enjoyment of Captain Shortland. It was observed that whenever, in these removals, there were much jamming and squeezing and contentions for places, it gave this man pleasure; but that the ease and comfort of the prisoners gave him pain. The united opinion of the prisoners was, that he was a very bad hearted man. He would often stand on the military walk, or in the market square, whenever there was any difference, or tumult, and enjoy the scene with malicious satisfaction. He appeared to delight in exposing prisoners in rainy weather, without sufficient reason. This has sent many of our poor fellows to the grave, and would have sent more had it not been for the benevolence and skill of Dr. M'Grath. We thought Miller and Osmore skilled in tormenting; but Shortland exceeded them both by a devilish deal. The prisoners related to me several instances of cool and deliberate acts of torment, disgraceful to a government of Christians; for the character and general conduct of this commander could not be concealed from them. He wore the British colours on his house, and acted under this emblem of sovereignty.

It was customary to count over the prisoners twice a week; and after the sweepers had brushed out the prisons, the guard would send to inform the commander that they were all ready for his inspection. On these occasions, Shortland very seldom omitted staying away as long as he possibly could, merely to vex the prisoners; and they at length expressed their sense of it; for he would keep them standing until they were weary. At last they determined not to submit to it; and after waiting a sufficient time, they made a simultaneous rush forward, and so forced their pa.s.sage back into their prison-house. To punish this act, Shortland stopped the country people from coming into market for two days. _At this juncture we arrived_; and as the increase of numbers, increased our obstinacy, the Captain began to relax; and after that, he came to inspect the prisoners, as soon as they were paraded for that purpose. It was easy to perceive that the prisoners had, in a great measure, conquered the hard hearted, and vindictive Capt. Shortland.

The roof of the prison to which we were consigned, was very leaky; and it rained on this dreary mountain almost continually; place our beds wherever we could, they were generally wet. We represented this to Capt. Shortland; and to our complaint was added that of the worthy and humane Dr. M'Grath; but it produced no effect; so that to the ordinary miseries of a prison, we, for a long time endured the additional one of wet lodgings, which sent many of our countrymen to their graves.

We owe much to the humanity of Dr. M'Grath, a very worthy man, and a native of Ireland. Was M'Grath commander of this Depot, there would be no difficulty with the prisoners. They would obey him through affection and respect; because he considers us rational beings, with minds cultivated like his own, and susceptible of grat.i.tude, and habituated to do, and receive acts of kindness; whereas the great Capt. Shortland considers us all as a base set of men, degraded below the rank of Englishmen, towards whom nothing but rigor should be extended. He acted on this false idea; and has like his superiors reaped the bitter fruit of his own ill judged conduct. He might, by kind and respectful usage, have led the Americans to any thing just and honorable; but it was not in his power, nor all the Captains in his nation, to force them to acknowledge and quietly submit to his tyranny.

Dr. M'Grath was a very worthy man, and every prisoner loved him; but M'Farlane, his a.s.sistant, a Scotchman, was the reverse; in dressing, or bleeding, or in any operation, he would handle a prisoner with a brutal roughness, that conveyed the idea that he was giving way to the feelings of revenge, or national hatred.[Q] Cannot a Scotchman testify his _unnatural_ loyalty to the present reigning family of England without treating an American with cruelty and contempt.

Dr. Dobson, the superintendant physician of the Hospital-ship at Chatham, was a very worthy and very skilful gentleman. We, Americans, ought never to forget his goodness towards us. Some of us esteem him full as high as Dr. M'Grath, and some more highly. They are both however, worthy men, and deserve well of this country. There is nothing men vary more in than in their opinion of and attachment to physicians. Dobson and M'Grath deserve medals of gold, and hearts of grat.i.tude, for their kind attention to us all.

CHAPTER IV.

The establishment of prison-ships at Chatham is broken up, and the last of the prisoners were marched from Plymouth to this place, the 30th of November. They were marched from that place to this, in one day, half leg deep in mud. Some lost their shoes; others, to preserve them, took them off, and carried them in their hands. When they arrived here, they were indeed objects of pity; nevertheless they were immediately shut up in a cold, damp prison, without any bedding, or any of the ordinary conveniences, until they could be examined and described in the commander's books; after which they were permitted to mix with the rest of their countrymen. We found many of them, the day after their arrival, unable to walk, by reason of their too long protracted march, in a very bad road. A prudent drover would not have risked his cattle by driving them through such a road in a few hours.

Such a thing never was done in America, with British prisoners.

I find all the prisoners here deeply exasperated against Captain Shortland, and too much prejudiced to hear any thing in his favor. I presume they have reason for it. As I have but just arrived, I have had but little opportunity of seeing and judging his conduct. Instead of his being a bad hearted man, I am disposed to believe that the fault is in his understanding and education. I suspect that he is a man of narrow views; that he has not sufficient information, or capacity, to form a right judgment of the peculiar cast and character of the people under his charge. He has never, perhaps, considered, that these descendants of Englishmen, the free inhabitants of the new world, have been born and brought up in, if we may speak so, Indian freedom; on which freedom has been superinduced an education purely democratic, in schools where degrading punishments are unknown; where if a schoolmaster exercised the severity common in English and German schools, they would tie the master's hands with his own bell-rope. He has never considered that our potent militia choose their own officers; and that the people choose all their officers and leaders from among themselves; and that there are very few men indeed, none, perhaps, in New-England, who would refuse to shake hands with a decent yeoman. It is probable that Captain Shortland has never once reflected that there are fewer grades of men between the lowest white man under his charge and the highest in America, than there are between him and the highest ranks in England. He has never considered the similarity between the ancient Roman republican, and the republican of the United States of America; nor why both republics deemed it abhorrent to inflict stripes on their citizens. Shortland had not sufficient sagacity to discover that playfulness, fun and frolic, formed a strong trait in the character of the American sailor and militia man, for they had hardly become, what is called in Europe, soldiers; drilling and discipline had not obliterated the free and easy carriage of a bold and fearless Yankee.

Sir Guy Carlton, afterwards Lord Dorchester, was Governor of Canada, during the revolutionary war, and proved himself a wise man. He penetrated the American character, and treated the American prisoners captured in Canada, accordingly; and by doing so, he came near breaking up our army; for our prisoners were softened and subdued by his kindness and humanity; he sent them home well clothed, and well fed, and most of them declared they never would fight against Sir Guy Carlton. He knew the American character thoroughly; and was convinced that harshness and severity would have no other effect than to excite revenge and hatred. On the other hand, our prisoners could have no very great respect for a _captain_, an officer, which they themselves created by their votes, at pleasure; add to this, that several of the prisoners had the t.i.tle of _captain_ in their own country. Had the commander of Dartmoor Prison been an old woman, the Americans would have respected her s.e.x and years, and obeyed her commands; but they despised and hated Shortland, for his deficiency of head, heart, and education; from all which originated those sad events which have disgraced one nation, and exasperated the other forever. Shortland may be excused, when it is considered that England lost her colonies by not studying the American character; and the same inattention to the natural operations of the human heart, is now raising America gradually up to be the first naval power on the terraqueous globe. And thus much for contempt.

There was an order that all lights should be put out by eight o'clock at night, in every prison; and it was doubtless proper; but this order was carried into execution with a rigor bordering on barbarity. On the least glimpse of light discoverable in the prison, the guard would fire in amongst us; and several were shot. Several Frenchmen were wounded. This story was told--that a French captain of a privateer, the night after he first came, was undressing himself, by his hammock, when the sentry cried, "_Out lights!_" The Frenchman not understanding English, kept it burning; the sentry fired, and scattered his brains over the place; but this did not occur while I was there; but this I aver, that several were shot, and I wondered that many were not killed. I was shocked at the barbarity of the order.

About this time, the Derbyshire militia were relieved by a regiment of regulars, who had been in Spain. They were chiefly Irish; and treated us better than we were treated by the militia. They had infinitely more generosity and manliness, as well as more intelligence. They acted plays in the c.o.c.k loft of No. 5. They have good music, and tolerable scenery; and charge six pence for admission, to defray the expense. This is a very pleasant way of making the British soldier forget his slavery; and the American prisoner his bondage. These generous hearted Irishmen would sometimes give us a song in honour of _our_ naval victories. O, how we did long to be at liberty, when we heard songs in honour of the _Const.i.tution_ and of the _United States_![R]

Some men are about to be sent off to Dartmouth, to return to the United States; this has occasioned us to write letters to our friends and connexions; but Captain Shortland is very jealous on this head; he will not allow us to write to any of the neighbouring country people.

The English dare not trust their own people, much more the American captives.

This is the latter part of the month of November; and the weather has been generally rainy, dark, dismal and foggy. Sometimes we could hardly see the sentinels on the walls. Sorrow and sadness within; gloom, fog, or drizzly rain without. If the commissioners at Ghent do not soon make peace, or establish an exchange, we shall be lost to our country, and to hope. The newspapers now and then enliven us with the prospect of peace. We are told that growing dissentions at Vienna will induce Great Britain to get rid of her transatlantic enemy, in order to combat those nearer home. Whenever we see in the newspapers an article captioned "_News from Ghent_," we devour it with our eyes; but instead of substance, generally find it empty wind. We are wearied out. I speak for myself; and I hear the same expression from others.

Winter is commencing to add to our miseries. Poor clothing, miserable lodging, poor, and inadequate food, long dismal nights, darkness, foul air, bad smells, the groans of the sick, and distressed; the execrations and curses of the half distracted prisoner, the unfeeling conduct of our keepers and commander--all, all, all conspire to fill up the cup of our sorrow; but we hope that one drop will not be added after it is brim full; far then it will run over, and death will follow!

_December._ Nothing new, or strange, worth recording; every day, and every night brings the same sad picture, the same heart sinking impressions. Until now, I could not believe that misfortune and confinement, with a deprivation of the accustomed food, ease and liberty enjoyed in our own dear country, could have wrought such a change in the human person. The young have not only acquired wrinkles, but appear dried up, and contracted in body and mind. I can easily conceive that a few generations of the human species, pa.s.sed in such misery and confinement, would produce a race of beings, very inferior to what we now are. The sailor, however, suffers less in appearance than we landsmen; for my short cruise in a privateer, does not ent.i.tle me to the name of a sailor. How often have I reflected on my rash adventure! To leave the house of plenty, surrounded with every thing comfortable, merely to change the scene, and see the watery world. To quit my paternal roof, half educated, to dress wounds, and cut off the limbs of those who might be mutilated, was about as mad a scheme as ever giddy youth engaged in. But repining will do no good. I must not despair, but make the best of my hard lot. If I have lost a portion of ordinary education, I have pa.s.sed the severer school of misfortune; and should I live to return to America, I must strive to turn these hardships to the best advantage. He who has not met adversity, has not seen the most profitable part of human life.

There were times, during my captivity, especially in the long and cheerless nights, when home, and all its endearments, rushed on my mind; and when I reflected on my then situation, I burst into tears, and wept aloud. It was then I was fearful that I should lose my reason, and never recover it. Many a time have I _thought_ myself into a fever, my tongue covered with a furr, and my brain seemed burning up within my skull. It was company that preserved me. Had I been alone, I should have been raving distracted. I had committed no crime; I was in the service of my country, in a just and necessary war, declared by the _people_ of the UNITED STATES, through their representatives in _Congress_, and proclaimed to the world by our supreme executive officer, _James Madison_. On this subject, I cannot help remarking the ignorance of the people of England. In their newspapers, and in their conversation, you will constantly find this idea held up, that the war was the work of _Mr. Madison_ and _Bonaparte_. This shows their ignorance of the affairs of our country. They are too ignorant to talk with on the const.i.tution of our government; and on the character and conduct of our administration. It is no wonder that they are astonished at our victories, by sea and by land, when they are so totally ignorant of our country, of its endless resources, of its invincible republican spirit, of its _strong_ government, founded on the affections of the people; and of the vigor, and all commanding intellect that pervades and directs the whole.

On the 28th of this month, December, 1815, the news arrived here that a treaty of peace was signed the 24th instant, at Ghent. After a momentary stupor, acclamations of joy burst forth from every mouth. It flew like wild fire through the prison; and _peace! peace! peace!_ echoed throughout these dreary regions. To know that we were soon to return home, produced a sensation of joy beyond the powers of expression! Some screamed, hollowed, danced, sung, and capered, like so many Frenchmen. Others stood in amaze, with their hands in their pockets, as if doubtful of its truth. In by far the greater part, however, it gave a glow of health and animation to the wan cheek of the half sick, and, hitherto, cheerless prisoner. Some unforgiving spirits hail the joyful event as bringing them nearer the period of revenge, which they longed to exercise on some of their tyrannical keepers. Many who had meditated escape, and had h.o.a.rded up every penny for that event, now brought it forth to spend in celebration of their regular deliverance. Even hard hearted Shortland appeared to bend from the haughty severity of his jailor-like manner, and can now speak to an American as if he were of the same species with himself. He has even allowed us to hoist our national colors on these prisons; and appears not to be offended at the sound of mirth and hilarity, which now echoes throughout these extensive mansions. I say extensive, for I suppose the whole of these prisons, yards, hospitals, stores and houses, are spread over twenty acres of ground. [_See the plate._]

We calculate that the ratification of the treaty by the _President_ of the _United States_, will arrive in England by the 1st of April, at which period there will not be an American left in this place. The very thoughts of it keep us from sleeping. Amidst this joy for peace, and for the near prospect of our seeing, once more, our dear America, there is not a man among us but feels disposed to try again the tug of war with the Britons, should they impress and flog our seamen, or instigate the savages of the wilderness to scalp and tomahawk the inhabitants of our frontiers. This war, and this harsh imprisonment, will add vigor to our arms, should the people of America again declare, by their representatives in congress, that individual oppression, or the nation's wrongs, render it expedient to sail, or march against a foe, whose tender mercies are cruelty. We can tell our countrymen, when we return home, what the Britons are, as their prisoners can tell the English what the Americans are.--"_By their fruits shall ye know them._"

We invite our readers to peruse the _historical journal_ of the campaigns of 1759, by Capt. Knox, where the immortal Wolfe cut such a glorious figure in burning the houses, and plundering the wretched peasantry of Canada. He says, "The detachments of regulars and rangers, under Major Scott and Captain Goreham, who went down the river on the 1st instant, are returned. They took a great quant.i.ty of black cattle and sheep; an immense deal of plunder, such as _household stuff, books and apparel, burnt above eleven hundred houses, and destroyed several hundred acres of corn_, beside _some fisheries_, and made sixty prisoners;"--and this just before winter! Have we, Americans, ever been guilty of such deeds? Yet we, Yankees, have been taught from our childhood to eulogize _Wolfe_, and _Amherst_, and _Monckton_, and to speak in raptures of the glorious war in 1759, when British soldiers joined the savages in scalping Frenchmen!

During this month, a number of prisoners have been sent to this prison from Plymouth. They came here from Halifax; they were princ.i.p.ally seamen, taken out of prizes, which the English retook. They all make similar complaints of hard usage, bad and very scanty food, and no attention to their health or comfort. There are now, at this depot, about _Twenty-Three Hundred and Fifty Americans_, who were _impressed_, previously to the war, into the British service, by English ships and English press-gangs. They are the stoutest and most hardy looking men in the prison. This is easily accounted for. When the British go on board an American merchant ship to look for English sailors, they adopt one easy rule, viz.--they select the stoutest, most hardy, and healthy looking men, and swear that they are Englishmen. After they have selected one of these fine fellows, it is in vain that he produces his protection, or any other evidence of his American birth and citizenship.

We learn from these seamen, that as soon as conveyed on board the British men of war, they are examined as to the length of time they have been at sea; and according to the knowledge and experience they appear to have, they are stationed; and if they grumble at the duty a.s.signed them, they are called mutinous rascals, and threatened with the cat; the warrant officers are charged to watch them closely, lest they should attempt to pervert the crew, and to prevent them from sending letters from the ship to their friends. Should any letters be detected on them, the sailors are charged, on pain of the severest punishment, to deliver them to some of the commissioned officers.

If they complained of their hard fate to their messmates, they were liable to punishment, and if they attempted to regain their liberty, and were detected, they were stripped, tied up, and most cruelly and disgracefully whipped, like a negro slave. Can any thing be conceived more humiliating to the feelings of men, born and brought up as we all are? Can we ever be cordial friends with such a people, even in time of peace? Will ever a man of our country, or his children after him, forgive this worse than Algerine treatment?

Several of the most intelligent of these impressed men related to me the particulars of the treatment, they, at various times, received; and I had committed them to paper; but they are too mean, low and disgusting to be recorded. The pitiful evasions, unworthy arts, and even falsehoods of some captains of his Britannic majesty's line of battle ships, when a seaman produced his protection; or offered to prove his nativity, or identify his person, as marked in his descriptive roll, were such, as to make me bless my stars that I did not belong to their service. There were, however, some instances of n.o.ble and generous conduct; which came up to the idea we, once, entertained of English honor, before the solid bullion of the English naval character was beaten into such thin, such very thin gold leaf, as to gild so many thousands of their epauletted seamen. The officers of the _Poictiers_ were spoken of with respect; and, by what I could learn, the smaller the vessel, the worse treatment was experienced by our prisoners, and impressed seamen; your little-big-men being always the greatest tyrants. Among these small fry of the mistress of the ocean, "_you d.a.m.ned Yankee rascal_," was a common epithet. Our own land officers had often to remark, when they came in contact with the British, especially in the night, as at Bridgewater, and at the repulse at Fort Erie, that the British colonels and other officers, were heard repeatedly to use expressions of this sort--"No quarter to the _d.a.m.ned yankees_!" "Form! Form! for the _d.a.m.ned yankees_ are close upon us!" Colonel _Drummond's_ last words, when he surmounted the rampart at Fort Erie, was in the like style of language. How many lives have these expressions of contempt cost the British!

Many of the impressed seamen now here, have told me, that they have been lashed to the gang-way, and most severely whipped, even to the extent of three dozen, for refusing to do, what the captain of a British man of war called "THEIR DUTY!" Some of these men have replied, "it is _my duty_ to serve _my own_ country; and fight against its enemies;" and for saying so, have been farther abused. Have ever the French, Spaniards, Portuguese, Italians, Germans, Dutch, Danes, Swedes, Russians, Prussians, Turks, or _Algerines_ treated American citizens in this way? And yet our federalists can never bear to hear us speak, in terms of resentment, against "the bulwark of our religion." O, Caleb! Caleb! Thou hast a head and so has a beetle.[S]

We had all more or less money from the American government; and some of the impressed men brought money with them. This attracted the avaricious spirit of our neighbors; so that our market was filled, not only with vegetables, but animal food. There were also seen in our market, piles of broad cloth, boxes of hats, boots, shoes, and many other articles. The greatest pick-pockets of all were the Jews, with their watches, seals and trinkets, and _bad books_. A moral commander would have swept the prison yard clean of such vermin. The women who attend our market are as sharp as the Jews, and worse to deal with; for a sailor cannot beat them down as he can one of these swindling Israelites. Milk is cheap, only 4d. per gallon, but they know how to water it.

The language and phraseology of these market people are very rude.

When puffing off the qualities of their goods, when they talk very fast, we can hardly understand them. They do not speak near so good English as our common market people do in America. The best of them use the p.r.o.noun _he_ in a singular manner--as can _he_ pay me? Can _he_ change? For can _you_ pay me? Or _you_ change? I am fully of opinion with those who say that the American people taken collectively, as a nation, speak the English language with more purity than the Britons, taken collectively. Every man or boy of every part of the United States would be promptly understood by the men of letters in London; but every man and boy of Old England would not be promptly understood by the lettered men in the capital towns of America. Is it not the bible that has preserved the purity of our language in America? These English men and women do not speak with the grammatical correctness of our people. As to the Scotch, their barbarisms that are to be found even in print, are affrontive to the descendants of Englishmen. Where, among the white people of the United States, can we find such shocking barbarities as we hear from the common people of Scotland? And yet we find that the Prince Regent is at the head of an inst.i.tution for perpetuating the unwritten language to the highlanders. We shall expect to hear of a similar undertaking, under the same patronage, for keeping alive the language of his dear allies, the _Kickapoos_ and _Pottowattomies_!! for the language of slaves or savages, are the needed props of some of the thrones in Europe.

I am sorry to remark that the Christmas holy-days have been recently marked with no small degree of intoxication, and its natural consequence, quarrelling among the prisoners. The news of peace; and the expectation of being soon freed from all restraint, have operated to unsettle the minds of the most unruly, and to encourage riot.

Drinking, carousing, and noise, with little foolish tricks, are now too common.--Some one took off a shutter, or blind, from a window of No. 6, and as the persons were not delivered up by the standing committee, Captain Shortland punished the whole, college fashion, by stopping the market, or as this great man was pleased wittily to call it, _an embargo_. At length the men were given up to Shortland, who put them in the _black hole_ for ten days.

To be a cook is the most disagreeable and dangerous office at this depot. They are always suspected, watched and hated, from an apprehension that they defraud the prisoner of his just allowance. One was flogged the other day for skimming the fat off the soup. The grand Vizier's office at Constantinople, is not more dangerous than a cook's, at this prison, where are collected four or five thousand hungry American sons of liberty. The prisoners take it upon themselves to punish these pot-skimmers in their own way.

We have in this collection of prisoners, a gang of hard-fisted fellows, who call themselves "THE ROUGH ALLIES." They have a.s.sumed to themselves the office of accuser, judge and executioner. In my opinion, they are as great villains as could be collected in the United States. They appear to have little principle, and as little humanity, and many of them are given up to every vice; and yet these ragam.u.f.fins have been allowed to hold the scale and rod of justice.

These _rough allies_ make summary work with the accused, and seldom fail to drag him to punishment. I am wearied out with such lawless anti-American conduct.

_January 30th._ The princ.i.p.al conversation among the most considerate is, when will the treaty be returned, ratified; for knowing the high character of our commissioners, none doubt but that the President and Senate will ratify, what they have approved. We are all in an uneasy, and unsettled state of mind; more so than before the news of peace.

Before that news arrived, we had settled down in a degree of despair; but now we are preparing and planning our peaceable departure from this loathsome place.

I would ask the reader's attention to the conduct of Capt. Shortland, the commanding officer of this depot of prisoners, as well as to the conduct of the men under his charge, as the conduct and events of this period have led on to a tragedy that has filled our native land with mourning and indignation. I shall aim at truth and impartiality, and the reader may make such allowance as our situation may naturally afford, and his cool judgment suggest.

In the month of January, 1815, Captain Shortland commenced a practice of counting over the prisoners out of their respective prisons, in the cold, raw air of the yard, where we were exposed above an hour, unnecessarily to the severity of the weather. After submitting to this caprice of our keeper, for several mornings, in hopes he would be satisfied as to the accurate number of the men in prison, we all refused to go out again in wet and raw weather. Shortland pursued his usual method of stopping the market; but finding that it had no effect, he determined on using force; and sent his soldiers into the yard, and ordered them to drive the prisoners into the prison _in the middle of the afternoon_, whereas they heretofore remained out until the sun had set, and then they all went quietly into their dormitories. The regiment of regulars had been withdrawn, and a regiment of Somersetshire militia had taken their place, a set of stupid fellows, and generally speaking ignorant officers. The regiment of regulars were clever fellows, and Shortland was awed by their character; but he felt no awe, or respect, for these irregulars.

The prisoners told the soldiers that this was an unusual time of day for them to leave the yard; and that they would not tamely submit to such caprice. The soldiers could only answer by repeating their _orders_. More soldiers were sent for; but they took special care to a.s.sume a position to secure their protection. The soldiers began now to use force with their bayonets. All this time Shortland stood on the military walk with the major of the regiment, observing the progress of his orders. Our men stood their ground. On observing this opposition, Shortland became enraged; and ordered the major to give the word for the soldiers _to fire_. The soldiers were drawn up in a half circle, to keep them from scattering.

We were now hemmed in between No. 7, and the wall, that divided this from the yard of No. 4. The major then gave orders to the officer in the yard, to "charge bayonet." This did not occasion our prisoners to retreat; they rather advanced; and some of them told the soldiers, that if they p.r.i.c.ked a single man, they would disarm them. Shortland was watching all these movements from behind the gate; and finding that he had not men enough to drive them in, drew his soldiers out of the yard. After this, the prisoners went into the prison of their own accord, when the turnkey sounded a horn.

These militia men have been somewhat intimidated by the threatenings of the "rough allies," before mentioned. These national guards thought they could drive us about like so many Frenchmen; but they have found their mistake. A man escaped from the black-hole, who had been condemned to remain in it during the war, for attempting to blow up a ship. The prisoners were determined to protect him; and when Shortland found that the prisoners would not betray him into his hands, he resorted to his usual embargo of the market; and sent his soldiers in after the prisoner; but he might as well have sought a needle in a hay-mow; for such was the difficulty of finding an individual among _six thousand_. They ransacked every birth, and lurking place, and pa.s.sed frequently by the man without being able to identify him, as our fellow had disguised himself both in face, and in person. The prisoners mixed in so entirely with the soldiers, that the latter could not act, and were actually fearful of being disarmed. When these Somersetshire militia found that we were far from being afraid of them, they ceased to be insolent, and treated us with something like respect. There was a considerable degree of friendship between us and the late regiment of regulars, who were gentlemen, compared with these clumsy militia.

There are about four hundred and fifty negroes in prison No. 4; and this a.s.semblage of blacks affords many curious anecdotes, and much matter for speculation. These blacks have a ruler among them whom they call _king d.i.c.k_. He is by far the largest, and I suspect the strongest man in the prison. He is six feet three inches in height, and proportionably large. This black Hercules commands respect, and his subjects tremble in his presence. He goes the rounds every day, and visits every birth to see if they are all kept clean. When he goes the rounds, he puts on a large bear-skin cap; and carries in his hand a huge club. If any of his men are dirty, drunken, or grossly negligent, he threatens them with a beating; and if they are saucy, they are sure to receive one. They have several times conspired against him, and attempted to dethrone him; but he has always conquered the rebels. One night several attacked him while asleep in his hammock; he sprang up and seized the smallest of them by his feet, and thumped another with him. The poor negro who had thus been made a beetle of, was carried next day to the hospital, sadly bruised, and provokingly laughed at. This ruler of the blacks, this _king RICHARD_ the IVth, is a man of good understanding; and he exercises it to a good purpose. If any one of his color cheats, defrauds, or steals from his comrades, he is sure to be punished for it. Negroes are generally reputed to be thieves. Their faculties are commonly found to be inadequate to the comprehension of the moral system; and as to the Christian system, their notions of it, generally speaking, are a burlesque on every thing serious. The punishment which these blacks are disposed to inflict on one another for stealing, partakes of barbarity; and ought never to be allowed, where the whites have the control of them.--By a punishment called "_cobbing_," they have occasioned the glutaeus muscles to mortify.

Beside his majesty _King d.i.c.k_, these black prisoners have among them a Priest, who preaches every Sunday. He can read, and he gives good advice to his brethren; and his prayers are very much in the strain of what we have been used to hear at home. In the course of his education, he has learnt, it is said, to know the nature of crimes and punishments; for, it is said, that while on board the Crown Prince prison-ship at Chatham, he received a dozen lashes for stealing some clothing; but we must make allowance for stories; for preachers have always complained of the calumnies of their enemies. If his whole history was known and correctly narrated, he might be found a duly qualified preacher, to such a congregation as that of prison No. 4.

This black man has a good deal of art and cunning, and has drawn several whites into his church; and his performances have an imposing cast; and are often listened to with seriousness. He appears to have learnt his sermons and prayers from a diligent reading of good books; but as to the Christian system, the man has no more idea of it than he has of the New Jerusalem; but then his good sentences, delivered, frequently, with great warmth, and his string of good advice, given in the negro dialect, make altogether, a novelty, that attracts many to hear him; and he certainly is of service to the blacks; and it is a fact, that the officers have heard him hold forth, without any expressions of ridicule; while the majority of these miserable black people are too much depraved to pay any serious attention to his advice.

It is curious to observe the natural alliance between _king_ d.i.c.k and this _priest_. d.i.c.k honors and protects him, while the priest inculcates respect and obedience to this _Richard the 4th_. Here we see the _union of church and state_ in miniature. Who told this negro, that to maintain this influence, he must rally round the huge club of the strongest and most powerful man in this black gang of sinners? And who told king d.i.c.k that his nervous arm and ma.s.sy club, were insufficient without the aid of the preacher of terror? Neither of them had read, or heard of Machiavel. Who taught this black orator, that the priesthood must seek shelter behind the throne, from the hostilities of reason? And who told "the rough allies," the Janisaries of this imperium in imperio, that they must a.s.sist and countenance both d.i.c.k and the priest? The science of government is not so deep and complicated a thing as king-craft and priest-craft would make us believe, since these rude people, almost deserving the name of a banditti, threw themselves into a sort of government, that is to be discerned in the early stages of every government. The love of power, of influence, and of distinction, is clearly discernible, even among the prisoners at Dartmoor. When I think of these things I am disposed to despise what is called _education_, which is, after all, but a _wooden leg_, a mere clumsy, unfeeling subst.i.tute for a live one, barely sufficient to keep a man out of the mud.

Beside king _d.i.c.k_, and _Simon_, the priest, there was another black divine, named _John_. He had been a servant of _Edward, Duke of Kent_, third son of the present king of England; on which account, black John a.s.sumed no small state and dignity. He left the service of his royal highness; and was found on board of an American ship, and was pressed from thence into a British man of war, where he served a year or two, in the station of captain's steward; but disliking the service, he claimed his release, as an American; and was sent with a number of other pressed men, to the prison ships at Chatham; and he came to this prison, with a number of other Africans. After king d.i.c.k, and Simon, the priest, _black John_ was the next man of the most consequence among the negroes; and considering his family connections; and that he knew how to read and write, it is not much to be wondered at. John conceived that his influence with his royal highness was sufficient to encourage him to write to the Duke to get him set at liberty; who actually applied to the transport-board with that view; but they could not grant it. He received, however, a letter from Capt. Hervy, the Duke's secretary, on the subject, who added, that as he had been so unwise as to refuse to serve his majesty, he must suffer for his folly. We have been particular in this anecdote; and we request our readers to bear it in mind, when we shall come to contrast this prompt answer of the royal Duke to the letter of a negro, with the conduct of Mr. Beasley, our agent for prisoners. The prisoners themselves noticed it; and envied the negro, while they execrated the haughty, unfeeling agent, who seldom, or ever answered their letters, or took any notice of their applications.

The poor negro consoled himself for his disappointment by turning Christian; and being a pretty clever fellow, and having formerly belonged to the royal family, it was considered an act of kindness and magnanimity, to raise him to the rank of _deacon_ in Simon's church.

_Deacon John_ generally acts as a privy counsellor to the king; and is sometimes a judge in criminal cases, when his majesty allows of one, which is not very often; for he most commonly acts in as despotic and summary a manner as the _Dey_ of Algiers himself.

King d.i.c.k keeps a boxing-school, where the white men are sometimes admitted. No. 4 is noted, also, for fencing, dancing and music; and, however extraordinary it may appear, they teach these accomplishments to the white men. A person, entering the c.o.c.k-loft of No. 4, would be highly amused with the droll scenery which it exhibited; and if his sense of smelling be not too refined, may relish, for a little while, this strange a.s.semblage of antics. Here he may see boxing, fencing, dancing, raffling, and other modes of gambling; and to this, we may add, drawing with chalk and charcoal; and tricks of slight-of-hand; and all this to gratify the eye; and for the sense of hearing, he may be regaled with the sound of clarionets, flutes, violins, flagelets, fifes, tambarines, together with the whooping and singing of the negroes. On Sundays this den of thieves is transformed into a temple of worship, when _Simon_, the _priest_, mounted on a little stool, behind a table covered with green cloth, proclaims the wonders of creation, and salvation to the souls of true believers; and h.e.l.l fire and brimstone, and weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth, to the hardened and impenitent sinner, and obstinate rebel of proffered mercy. As he approaches the end of his discourse, he grows warmer and warmer, and, foaming at the mouth, denounces all the terrors of the law against every heaven-daring, G.o.d-provoking sinner. I have frequently noticed the effect of this black man's oratory upon some of his audience. I have known him to solemnize his whole audience, a few numskulled negroes alone excepted. While he has been thus thundering and lightning, sullen moans and hollow groans issue from different parts of the room; a proof that his zealous harrangue solemnizes some of his hearers; while a part of them are making grimaces, or betraying marks of impatience; but no one dare be riotous; as near the preacher sat his majesty king d.i.c.k, with his terrible club, and huge bear-skin cap. The members of the church sat in a half circle nearest the priest; while those who had never pa.s.sed over the threshold of grace, stood up behind them.