A Journal of a Young Man of Massachusetts Part 7

Her yawl is launch'd; light o'er the deep, Too kind, she wafts a ruffian band; Her blue track lengthens to the bark, And soon on deck the miscreants stand.

Around they throw the baleful glance; Suspense holds mute the anxious crew-- Who is their prey?--poor sailor boy!

The baleful glance is fix'd on you.

Nay, why that useless scrip unfold?

They d.a.m.n the "_lying yankee scrawl_,"

Torn from thine hand, it strews the wave,-- They force thee, trembling, to the yawl.

Sick was thine heart, as from the deck, The hand of friendship wav'd farewell; Mad was thy brain, as, far behind, In the grey mist, thy vessel fell.

One hope, yet, to thy bosom clung, The captain mercy might impart; Vain was that hope, which bade thee look, For mercy in a _Pirate's_ heart.

What woes can man on man inflict, When malice joins with uncheck'd pow'r; Such woes, unpitied and unknown, For many a month, the sailor bore!

Oft gem'd his eye the bursting tear, As mem'ry lingered on past joy; As oft they flung the cruel jeer, And d.a.m.n'd the "_chicken liver'd boy_."

When sick at heart, with "hope deferr'd,"

Kind sleep his wasting form embrac'd, Some ready minion ply'd the lash, And the lov'd dream of freedom chas'd.

Fast to an end his miseries drew; The deadly hectic flush'd his cheek; On his pale brow the cold dew hung, He sigh'd, and sunk upon the deck!

The sailor's woes drew forth no sigh; No hand would close the sailor's eye; Remorseless, his pale corse they gave, Unshrouded, to the friendly wave.

And, as he sunk beneath the tide, A h.e.l.lish shout arose; Exultingly the demons cried, "_So fare all Albion's REBEL foes!_"

The power of music and of song, on such occasions, has been witnessed in all ages of the world, especially in the youthful, or chivalric period of a nation's existence, which is the present time, in the history of the UNITED STATES. We all have felt and witnessed the animating effects of the simple national tune of _Yankee Doodle_. Our New England boys cannot stand still when it is played. To that tune our regiments march with an energy that no other music inspires. At its sound, the sentinel on his post slaps his musket, and marches his limits with a smartness, that shows that his brave heart pulsates to the warlike drum. Such a people, thus animated and united, is absolutely invincible, by all the powers of Europe combined.

Time, situation, and circ.u.mstances, will give us national songs. Many ages pa.s.sed away, before England was animated by a national hymn. The Americans have parodied this hymn, subst.i.tuting, "_G.o.d save great Washington!_" &c.

Our orator, considering where he was, and that he had an hundred British hearers, used pretty harsh language. He apostrophised the English thus: "Haughty nation! with one hand thou art deluding and dividing thy victims in New England, and with the other, thou bearest the weapon of vengeance; and while employing the ruthful savage, with his tomahawk and scalping knife, thou art boasting of thy humanity, thy magnanimity, and thy religion! b.l.o.o.d.y villains! detestable a.s.sociates! linked together by _fear_, and leagued with savages by _necessity_, to murder a Christian people, for the alledged crime of fighting over again the battle of independence. Beware, b.l.o.o.d.y nations of Britons and savage Indians, of the recoiling vengeance of a brave people. For shame--talk no more of your Christianity, of your bible and missionary societies, when your only aim is to direct the scalping knife, and give force to the arm of the savage. No longer express the smile of pleasure, on hearing a stupid Governor proclaim you to be '_The Bulwark of our Religion!_' You have filled India with blood and ashes; you have murdered the Irish for contending for liberty of conscience; you continue the scourge of war in Spain; you pay Russia, Sweden, Germany, and Holland, the price of blood; and to crown all, decorate your colors, and your seats of legislation, with scalps, torn from Americans, male and female; and you are sowing discord, and diffusing a jacobinical spirit through a protestant country, which you cannot conquer by force. But," continued the orator, waving his sinewy arm, and hard and heavy hand, "the time is not far distant, when your guilty nation will be duly appreciated, and justly punished;" and saying this, he drove his iron fist into the palm of his left hand, and stamped with his foot on the capstan, where he stood, while his admiring countrymen rewarded the herculean orator with three cheers.

There is no disguising it--these Englishmen not only respect us, but _fear_ us. They perceive a mighty difference between us, and the cringing, gambling Frenchmen. If they are tolerably well informed, and think at all, they must conclude that we Yankees, are filled with, and keep up that bold and daring spirit of liberty, which made England what she is; and the loss of which is now perceived by their surrendered ships, and beaten armies in America. All these things will hereafter be detailed by some future Gibbon, in _the History of the Decline and Fall of the BRITISH EMPIRE_.

We closed the day, on this memorable _Fourth of July_, pretty much as we began it; we struck our flag at sun-set, and saluted the other ships with three hearty cheers.--Throughout the whole, the prisoners, even to the boys, behaved with becoming decorum; and the whole was concluded without any disagreeable accident, or any thing like a quarrel; and in saying this, we desire to acknowledge the extraordinary good behaviour of all the British officers and men on board the Crown Prince.

Excepting the apprehensions of being sent off to _Dartmoor prison_, of which we entertained horrid ideas, we were tolerably happy. After the measles ceased, we were all very healthy; and there exists a good understanding between the prisoners and our commander, Osmore; which they say, is owing to the influence of his amiable wife.--This worthy woman has discovered that we are not a gang of vagabonds, but that many of the American prisoners are not only men of solid understanding, and correct principles, but men whose minds have been improved by good education. The manner and style in which we celebrated our national independence, have created a respect for us.

The officers extend a better course of treatment towards _us_; and this has occasioned our treating _them_ with more respect. Politeness generates politeness, and insult, insult.--They find that coaxing and fair words is the only way to manage Americans.

There is a set of busy-idlers amongst us, a sort of newsmongers, fault-finders, and predictors, who are continually _bothering_[L] us with unsubstantial rumors. The newspapers we take, are enough to confound any man; but these creatures are worse than the London news-writers. Sometimes we are told that Baltimore is burnt; and then that New York is taken; and we have been positively a.s.sured that _old_ New England has declared for the British; and that the governor of Ma.s.sachusetts and his council had dined on board a British man of war in Boston harbor; and that PRESIDENT MADISON had been hanged in effigy in Boston, Newburyport and Portsmouth. At other times we were told positively, and circ.u.mstantially, that three frigates sent their boats into Marblehead, and after driving out all the women and children, set fire to the town, and reduced the whole to ashes; and this was for some time credited. We have a number of fine Marblehead men here in captivity, all staunch friends of their country's cause. I well remember since that period, that it was told us, that peace between America and England was concluded; and that one of its conditions was _giving up the fisheries on the banks of Newfoundland_. This alarmed the Marblehead men more than the report of burning their town; they raved and swore like mad men. "If that be the case," said they, "_I am d.a.m.ned_--Marblehead is forever _d.a.m.ned_--and _we are all d.a.m.ned_; and _d.a.m.nation_ seize the peace-makers, who have consented to this condition." On this subject they worked themselves into a fever; and were very unhappy all the time the story was believed. Such like stories were told to as, oft times, so circ.u.mstantially, that we all believed them. When discovered to be false, they were called _galley news_, or galley _packets_. These mischievous characters are continually sporting with our feelings; and secretly laughing at the uneasiness they occasion. There is one man who has got the name of _lying BOB_; who is remarkable for the fertility of his invention; there is so much apparent correctness in all he advances, that we too often believe his sly quizzing rodomontades. He mentions and describes the man who informed him, states little particulars, and relates circ.u.mstances, so closely connected with acknowledged facets, that the most cautious and incredulous are often taken in by him. He is a const.i.tutional liar; and the fellow has such a plausible mode of lying, and wears throughout such a fixed and solemn phiz, that his news has been circulated by us all, with all our wise reasons, and explanations, and conjectures, that although we are sometimes angry enough to knock his brains out, we cannot help laughing at the _hoax_.

To the name of lying Bob, we have added that of "_Printer to Prince Belzebub's Royal Gazette._"

This little community of ours, crowded within the planks of a single ship, is but the prototype of the great communities on the land. Here we see working, all those pa.s.sions, hopes, fears, emulations, envies, and even contentions for distinction, which, like the winds and tides of the ocean, keep the human mind healthy, vigorous, and progressing to general benefit. Amidst it all, we could discover "_the ruling pa.s.sion_," the love of country, and a firm belief that our countrymen understood rational liberty better, and could defend it longer, than any nation now in existence.

Many people are beguiled with an idea, that sailors have no serious thoughts of religion; because they use swearing, and, too often, a profane phraseology, without any meaning. But seamen generally have as serious ideas of religion, as landsmen; and are, in my opinion, full as good. Hypocrisy is not among their vices. They never pretend to more religion than their conduct proclaims. You see and hear the worst of them; and that cannot always be said of our brethren on sh.o.r.e. We have had a methodist preacher exhorting us twice a week, until lately; but he has discontinued his visits; for he found the hearts of _some_ of our fellows as hard as their faces, and he relinquished the hope of their conversion to methodism. There was, at one time, on board our ship, a little, ugly French surgeon's mate, who had lived several years in London, and in the southern part of America. He could speak, and read the English language equally well with his own. He ridiculed _all_ religion, and talked in such an irreverent style of the bible, of Jesus Christ, and of the Virgin Mary, that our sailors would not a.s.sociate with him, nor, at times, eat with him. On one occasion, his profanity was so shocking, that he ran some risk of being thrown overboard. He was a witty, comical fellow, and they would listen and laugh at his drollery; but they finally stopped his mouth from uttering things, for which he would be severely punished in England and in America; and skinned, or fried, or slowly roasted, in Spain.

Generally speaking, in the religious notions of our sailors, there is mixed a portion of that superst.i.tion which we, our forefathers, and foremothers brought with them from England, Scotland and Ireland. They believe, for example, in spirits, or ghosts, and that they haunt houses and ships; and that they have sometimes appeared with horrid visage, and menacing countenances, at the bed-side of a cruel captain; and above all, to the false hearted Tar, who cruelly deserted his too credulous Poll, who drowned herself in despair. The common sailor often tells such stories, and sings them in ballads, both which are generally ended with the good moral sentiment of the punishment of cruelty and treachery; and the reward of the kind hearted and humane.

It may appear singular that men whose conduct generally is so opposite to the prescribed rules of the Priest, should have so firm an opinion of another life, after their bodies are eaten up by sharks, or blown to atoms; but it is really the case with the British and American sailors; for they have the strongest belief in the existence of spirits; and all their stories and traditions tend to confirm this superst.i.tion. How often have I known them huddled together in the night, telling stories of feats of danger and desperation! a ghost or spirit is generally brought into the history. Nothing suits these daring set of men better than a solemn narrative of a supernatural achievement, and a supernatural escape; but to be charming, it must have a tinge of the horrible. _Shakespeare_ would have recognized some of these men as his kindred, and they him as a relation. Good luck and ill luck, lucky days and unlucky days, as well as lucky ships, attach themselves strongly to a sailor's mind. A remarkable instance of this we have in our ill-fated frigate _Chesapeake_. Ever since the British ship, _Leopard_, fired into this American frigate, in a period of profound peace, and caused her to strike her colors, and which led to her being boarded; and her men to be mustered by compulsion, and some of her crew taken and carried forcibly on board the Leopard, one of which was afterwards hanged; after this deep wound on our country's honor, this frigate was ever after viewed as _unlucky_, and shunned accordingly.

In confirmation of this nautical curse, she met with a series of disasters during the war, which were not attributed to ill management, but to ill luck. Thus, one time she was coming up the harbor of Boston, from a cruise, where she lost spar after spar, and topmast after topmast; and when in full sight or the town, and not much wind, over board went her fore-top-mast, and several men were drowned in their fall from the rigging. This was not attributed to lack of judgment, but to ill luck. When this ill-omened ship lay in Boston harbor, previous to her last and fatal cruise, she could not get men; and that from the impression on the minds of sailors, that _she was an unlucky ship_. This operated to her final misfortune; for her crew was made up of every thing that offered. Her captain was a stranger to his crew, and to his officers; his first lieutenant lay at the point of death when she sailed; her motley crew mutinied, on account of their pay, before they weighed anchor; her brave, I had like to have said rash commander, sailed out in a great hurry; her cables were not quite stowed away, nor other things arranged in their places, when she bore down on the cool and orderly Shannon; and to crown all, her intrepid commander, a man six feet two inches, went into action within half pistol shot, in full uniform, as if he defied the power of the British musketry. I have conversed with some of her officers and men in my captivity, and think that I am warranted in saying, that there was much more high-toned bravery exhibited on that day, than good conduct.--The sailors, however, think differently; they all attribute it to that unavoidable fatality which forever adheres, like pitch, to an _unlucky_ ship. O, my country!

"It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine!"

MILTON'S LYCIDAS.

CHAPTER II.

_August 30th._--Drafts continue to be made from this ship to be sent off to Dartmoor Prison. There are but few of us remaining, and we are every day in expectation of removal. All go off with evident reluctance, from an apprehension that the change will be for the worse. It is the "untried scene," that fills us with anxiety. We are more disposed to bear our present ills, "than fly to others which we know not of."

Oh, how we envy the meanest looking wretch we see, crawling on the sh.o.r.e, gathering sticks to cook his fish. There the beggar enjoys the natural inheritance of man, sweet LIBERTY; if the unfeeling, the avaricious and morose, refuse his pet.i.tion, he can sweeten the disappointment with the reflection, that he has liberty to walk where he pleases. He is not shut up, in the prime of life, and cut off from all intercourse with those he holds most dear; he is not lingering out his life and health under the morose countenance of an unfeeling jailor. He has not, like us, a home, where peace, plenty, and every good, await to welcome us. Who can express the anguish felt by some of us, wretched prisoners, here crowded together, like sheep, men who have broken no law of either country; but who have stood courageously forth in supporting the sacred cause of our country, and in defending "_free trade and sailors' rights_." Should this war continue some years longer, or should peace be restored, and another war with Britain commence, I will venture to predict that our enemies will take but _few_ prisoners _alive_. My own mind is entirely made up on this head. I hope to stand ready to risk my life for the liberty and independence of our nation, and for the preservation of my own personal liberty; but unless wounded and maimed, I never will be again a prisoner to the British.

The American sailor has a beloved home; he was born and brought up in a house that had a "fire place" in it.--Many of them here, in captivity, have wives and children, most of them have parents, and brothers and sisters. These poor fellows partake, at times, the misery of their dear relatives, at three thousand miles distance. They recollect their aged mothers, and decrepid fathers, worn down with age, labor, and anxious thoughts for the welfare of their absent sons.

Some have wives, and little children, weeping for their absent husbands, and suffering for the good and comfortable things of this life, having none to help them. In families, neighborhoods, and villages, men are supported by leaning on each other; or by supporting each other; and we have here endeavored to do so too; but now our numbers are thinning, some of our best, our steadiest, and most prudent men, have left us, and gone to Dartmoor Prison. I have felt very low spirited for some days past. It is true, our numbers are now so few, that we can run about, and beguile the tedious hours by a greater variety of exercise and amus.e.m.e.nt than heretofore; but then, our soberest men are gone, and left behind some of the most noisy and disorderly of our whole crew; and young as I am, I am little disposed to make a riot or noise, merely for noise sake.

A disturbance took place last night, which deprived all of us of sleep. It was owing to the unaccommodating disposition of our commander, Mr. Osmore. About thirty prisoners were selected, and called aft, with their hammocks all tied up, to be ready to go off early in the morning in a tender. The tender did not arrive as was expected; the sergeant was ordered to count us over in the evening to go to rest; whereupon the thirty drafted men went aft, and requested their hammocks to sleep in; Mr. Osmore replied, that, as they were to go off early in the morning, they would only detain the tender, if they had their hammocks to take down and pack up again, on which account he refused to let them have their usual accommodations for sleeping.--The men went below, very much dissatisfied at the churlish disposition of the commander; and as they despaired being able to sleep themselves, on bare boards, they all determined that Osmore should not himself sleep. They waited quietly till about ten o'clock, when the commander usually went to bed; and then they tore up the large oak benches, tied ropes to them, and run with them round the deck, drawing the benches after them like a sled, at the same time hollowing, screaming and yelling, and making every noise that their ingenuity or malice could devise. Sometimes they drove these oaken benches full b.u.t.t against the aft bulk head, so as to make the ship tremble again with the noise, like cannon. They jarred down the crockery belonging to the marines, which was set up on the opposite side of the c.o.c.k-pit, and frightened their wives out of their beds.

The noise and jarring were so great, that it seemed as if they were breaking up the ship, for the sake of her iron work. Lieut. Osmore sent a marine down, to order them to be still and go to sleep. They replied, that they had no conveniences for sleeping, and that Osmore had acted like a villain, in depriving them unnecessarily of their hammocks, for which brutality, they were determined that he should not sleep more than they. After which they recommenced their riot and thundering noise, which brought Osmore out of his cabin, who called one of the committee to him, and told him to tell the men, that if they did not directly cease their noise, he would confine every man of them below, for three days. The committee man replied, that nothing could then be done, for that the mob had fairly capsized the government of the ship; and all that he could say, would only add to the riot and confusion. "Then," said he, "I'll be d--d if I do not fire upon them." Some of the mob answered, "fire, and be d--d." And the commander hesitated a moment, and returned to his cabin; for he saw the men were wrought up to the battle pitch, and rather wished him to fire, by way of excuse for their attack upon him, whom they most cordially despised.

Directly upon this, they collected all the tin and copper pans, pots and kettles, and every sonorous metallic substance they could lay their hands on. These they tied together, and hitched bunches of them here and there, upon the oaken planks; and then, what with screaming, yelling, like the Indian war-whoop, cheering, and the thundering noise of the planks, grating along the deck, together with the ringing and clattering of their metallic vessels, they made altogether such a hideous "rattle-come-tw.a.n.g," that it was enough to raise all Chatham.

All this was transacted in utter darkness. The officers doubtless saw, that bloodshed and promiscuous death would be the consequence of firing among the rioters, and prudently left it to subside with the darkness of the night. These disorderly fellows would go round the decks twice, with all this thundering noise and clatter, and then be silent for about half an hour, or until they thought Mr. Osmore had got into a doze; and then they would recommence their horrible serenade. At length Osmore became so enraged, that he swore by his Maker, that he would order every marine in the ship to fire in among them; but on some of the committee observing to him that he would be as likely to kill the innocent as the guilty, and as they were then silent, he went off again to his cabin; but within a quarter of an hour they begain their shocking serenade, and continued it, at provoking intervals, all the night, so that none could sleep in the ship.

In the morning the tender came along side, and they all went on board of her. When they had all got in, and pushed off from the ship's side, and while Osmore was superintending their departure, they all cried out, _baa! baa! baa!_ until they got out of hearing. The next day he betrayed a disposition to punish, in some way, those prisoners that remained; but it was remarked to him, that it was utterly impossible for any of them to stop the riot, or to keep their disturbers quiet, and that they, themselves, were equally incommoded with him and his family, he therefore prudently dropped the design. Although many of us disapproved of this behavior of the men, none of us could help laughing at the noise, and its ludicrous effects. It is a fact, that the officers and marines of the Crown Prince prison ship, were more afraid of the American prisoners, than they were of them. This last frolic absolutely cowed them. One of the officers said to me, next day, "Your countrymen do not seem to be a b.l.o.o.d.y minded set of men, like the Portuguese and Spaniards; but they have the most, d--d provoking _impudence_ I ever saw, in any men; if they did not accompany it all with peals of laughter, and in the spirit of fun, I should put them down as a set of h.e.l.l-hounds." I told him that I considered the last night's riot, not in the light of a mutiny, or a serious attempt to wound or scratch any man, but as a high frolic, without any real malice, and was an evidence of that boisterous liberty in which they had been bred up, and arising also from their high notions of right and wrong. To which the worthy Scotchman replied, "I hate a Frenchman, a Spaniard, and a Portuguese; but I never can hate an American; and yet the three former behave infinitely better; and give us far less trouble than your saucy fellows." Had British prisoners behaved in this manner, in the prison ships in the harbor of _Boston_, or _Salem_, would our officers have borne it with more patience?

As there were but few prisoners now remaining, and ample room to run and jump about for exercise, our men evidently recruited; and being in good spirits, the rose of health soon bloomed again on their manly cheeks. The soldiers, made prisoners in Canada, evidently gained strength, and acquired activity. If we compare their miserable, emaciated looks, on their arrival at Melville Prison, from their wretched voyage down the St. Lawrence, with their present appearance, the difference is striking. The wretched appearance of these new made soldiers, reflects no credit on the British. The savages of the forest never starve their prisoners. The war department of the United States having ordered these men a portion of their pay, they appropriated it chiefly to purchase comfortable clothing, which has been productive of great good, and has probably saved the lives of some of them; others squandered away their money in dissipation and gambling.

A becoming degree of tranquillity prevailed on board this prison ship, during my residence in it. On the 15th of September, we were all sent on board the Bahama prison ship, which lay farther up the reach. Here we found about three hundred of our countrymen, who received us with kindness, and many marks of satisfaction. I could, at once, perceive that their situation had been less pleasant than ours, in the Crown Prince. Little attention had been paid to cleanliness, and gambling had been carried to as great excess as their means would admit of.

They seemed to lack either the power, or the resolution of adhering to and carrying into effect, good and wholesome regulations. I never saw a set of more ragged, dirty men in my life; and yet they were disposed to sell their last rag to get money to game with.--Their misfortune was, they had too few men of sense and respectability among them. They had no good committee men; not enough to bear down the current of vice and folly. We dread the contagion of bad example. Some of our men soon resorted to their detestable gambling tables; and pursued their old vices with astonishing avidity. We seriously expostulated with our companions, on their returning to the pernicious practice of gambling, after they had had the virtue of refraining on board the Crown Prince; and our advice induced nearly all of them to renounce the destructive practice. I had read, but never saw convincing evidence before, of gaming being a pa.s.sion, that rages in proportion to the degrees of misery, until it becomes a species of insanity.

We, new comers, introduced certain measures that had a tendency to harmonize our sailors and soldiers. The disorders on board the Bahama arise, princ.i.p.ally, from having on board a number of these two cla.s.ses of men. Our sailors view a soldier as belonging to an order of men below them; and it must be confessed that our first crop of recruits, that were huddled together soon after the declaration of war, in some measure justified this notion. They were, many of them, idle, intemperate men, void of character and good const.i.tutions. The high flying _federal clergy_, among other nonsense, told their flocks that the war would demoralize the people; whereas it had the contrary effect, as it regarded the towns an hundred miles from the sea coast.

It absolutely picked all the rags, dirt, and vice, from our towns and villages, and transported them into Canada, where they were either captured, killed, or died with sickness, so that our towns and villages on the Atlantic, were cleared of idlers and drunkards, and experienced the benefit of their removal. The second crop of recruits, in 1814, were of a different cast. The high bounty, and the love of country, induced the embargoed sailor to turn soldier; to these were added young mechanics, and the sons of farmers. These were men of good habits, and of calculation. They looked forward to their bounty of land, with a determination of settling on their farms at the close of the war. These were moral men, and they raised the character of the soldier, and of their country. These were the men who conquered at Chippewa, Bridgewater, Erie, and Plattsburg. Of such men was composed that potent army of well disciplined militia, who reposed within twenty miles of the sea sh.o.r.es of New-England, during 1814 and 1815--especially of Ma.s.sachusetts and Connecticut; and who, had the British attempted a landing, would have met them, with the bayonet, at the water's edge, and crimsoned its tide.

Our captivated sailors knew nothing of this fine army; they only knew the first recruits; and it is no wonder they viewed them as their inferiors, as they really were. Even the officers were, generally speaking, much inferior to those who closed the war. The American sailor appears to be a careless, unthinking, swearing fellow; but he is generally much better than he appears. He is generally marked with honor, generosity, and honesty. A ship's crew soon a.s.similates, and they are all brother tars, embarked together in the same bottom, and in the same pursuit of interest, curiosity or fame; while the rigid discipline of an army does not admit of this a.s.sociation and a.s.similation. A sailor, therefore, greets a sailor, as his brother; but has not yet learned to greet a soldier as his brother; nor has the American soldier ever felt the fraternal attachment to the sailor. It should be the policy of our rulers, and military commanders, to a.s.similate the American soldier and sailor; and there is little doubt but that they will amalgamate in time. In France, the soldier looks down upon the sailor; in England, and in America, the sailor looks down on the soldier. We must learn them to march arm in arm.

Confinement, dirtiness, and deprivations, have an evil operation on the mind. I have observed some who had a little refinement of manners, at the commencement of their captivity, and regarded the situation and feelings of others near them, with complacency, but have lost it all, and sunk into a state of misanthropy. We, Americans, exercise too little ceremony at best, but some of our prisoners lost all deference and respect for their countrymen, and became mere hogs, the stronger pushing the weaker aside, to get the most swill.

"Jove fix'd it certain, that the very day Made man a slave, took half his worth away."----_Homer._

All our industrious men were well behaved; and all our idle men were hoggish. Some of our countrymen worked very neatly in bone, out of which material they built ships,[M] and carved images, and snuff boxes, and tobacco boxes, and watch cases. Some covered boxes, in a very neat manner, with straw. The men thus employed, formed a strong contrast to those who did nothing; or who followed up gambling. Our ship afforded striking instances of the pernicious effects of idleness; and of the beneficial effects of industry. We, on board the Crown Prince, instructed the boys; but in this ship, there has been no attention paid to them; and they are, upon the whole, as vicious in their conduct, and as profane in their language, as any boys I ever saw. Frenchmen are bad companions for American boys. They can teach them more than they ever thought of in their own country.

In January last, three hundred and sixty American prisoners were sent on board this ship. Great mortality prevailed among the Danish prisoners, prior to the arrival of our countrymen, on board the Bahama. The Danes occupied her main deck, while we occupied the lower one.--When our poor fellows were tumbled from out of one ship into this, they had not sufficient clothes to cover their shivering limbs, in this coldest month of the year. They were, indeed, objects of compa.s.sion, emaciated, pale, shuddering, low spirited, and their const.i.tutions sadly broken down.--Their morbid systems were not strong enough to resist any impression, especially the contagion of the jail fever, under which the Danes were dying by dozens. Out of three hundred and sixty one Americans, who came last on board, eighty-four were, in the course of three months, buried in the surrounding marshes, the burying place of the prison ships. I may possibly forgive, but I never can forget the unfeeling conduct of the British, on this occasion. Why send men on board a crowded prison ship, which they knew was infected with a mortal contagion? Their government _must_ have known the inevitable consequences of putting three hundred debilitated men on board an infected ship, where there were not enough well to attend on the sick.--If we, Americans, ever treated British prisoners in our hands, in this cruel manner, the facts have never reached my ears. Here was an opportunity for redeeming the blasted reputation of the British, for the horrors of their old Jersey prison ship, in the revolutionary war. But they supposed that our affairs were so low; and their own so glorious, that there was no room for retaliation. The surrounding marshes were already unhealthy, without adding the poison of human bodies, which were every hour put into them.--Several persons, now prisoners here, and I rank myself among that number, had a high idea of British humanity, prior to our captivity; but we have been compelled to change our opinions of the character of the people from whom we descended. The commander of the Bahama, Mr. W. is a pa.s.sionate and very hot tempered man, but is, upon the whole, an humane one. We have more to praise than to blame in his conduct towards us. He is not ill disposed to the Americans, generally, and wishes for a lasting peace between the two contending nations. His mate is the reverse of all this, especially when he is overcharged with liquor.

As characteristic of some of our imprudent countrymen, I insert the following anecdote. The _Bellecean_, (or _Bellauxcean_) prison ship, lay next to us. She was filled with Norwegians, and were detained in England, while Norway adhered to a king of their own choice. The commander of her was a nettlesome, fractious, foolish old fellow, who was continually overlooking us, and hailing our commander, to inform him if any one smuggled a bottle of rum from the market boats. His Norwegians gave him no trouble; they were a peaceable, subservient people, with no fun in their const.i.tutions, nor any jovial cast in their composition.--They were very different from the British or American sailor, who will never be baulked of his fun, if the devil stands at the door. This imprudent, meddling old commander, of the _Bellauxcean_, was forever informing the officer of the deck of every little pickadillo of the American prisoners; and he, of course, got the hearty ill will of all the Americans in the ship Bahama. He once saw a marine connive at the pa.s.sing a couple of bottles of liquor through the lower ports, and he hailed the commander, and informed him of it; and the marine was immediately punished for it. This roused the _Americans_ to revenge; for the _British_ soldier, or marine, is so much of a slave, that revenge never dare enter his head. _Retaliation_ belongs alone to the free and daring American. He alone enjoys the _lex talionis_, and glories in carrying it into execution.

Fish and _potatoes_ const.i.tuted the diet of the following day. What does our "dare devils" do, but reserve all their potatoes to serve as cold shot to fire at the fractious commander of their next neighbor, the Bellauxcean. Accordingly when they observed the old man stubbing backwards and forwards his quarter deck, and stopping now and then to peak over to our ship to see if we smuggled a bottle of liquor, they gave him a volley of potatoes, which was kept up until the veteran commander hailed our captain and told him that if the Americans did not cease their insult he would order his marines to fire upon them; but his threatenings produced no other effect than that of increasing the shower of potatoes; so that this brave British tar was compelled to seek shelter in his cabin; and then the potatoe-battery ceased its fire. When all was quiet, the old gentleman seized the opportunity of pushing on board of us. When he came on our quarter deck, rage stopped all power of utterance, he foamed and stamped like a mad man. At length, he asked Mr. Wilson how he could permit a body of prisoners under his command and control, to insult one of his majesty's officers in his own ship? To which Mr. Wilson replied, that he should use his influence to prevent a repet.i.tion of the insult, and restore harmony; and that he was sorry that his men should get into any difficulty with those of another ship; and he recommended moderation, but the old commander swore and raved terribly; when our worthy protector reminded him that he was not on his own quarter deck. The coolness of Mr.

Wilson still further enraged our exasperated neighbor, and he left the ship execrating every one on board, and swearing that he would make complaint to the commodore.