The Second War with England Volume Ii Part 12

CHAPTER XIV.

DARTMOOR PRISON.

Impressed Americans made prisoners of war -- Treatment of prisoners -- Prison Ships -- Dartmoor prison -- Neglect of American prisoners -- Their sufferings -- Fourth of July in Dartmoor -- Brutal attack of the French prisoners -- Fresh arrivals -- Joy at the news of our naval victories -- Sufferings of the prisoners in winter -- American Government allows them three cents per diem -- Moral effect of this notice of Government -- Napoleon's downfall -- Increased allowance of Government -- Industry of prisoners -- Attempts to escape -- Extraordinary adventure of a lieutenant of a privateer -- Number of prisoners increased -- A riot to obtain bread -- Dartmoor ma.s.sacre -- Messrs. King and L'Arpent appointed commissioners to investigate it -- Decision -- The end.

A short chapter is due to those who, though not engaged in battle, suffered equally for their country, and despite the oppression and want which drove them well nigh to despair, refused to be faithless to the land that had nurtured them. The conduct of the land and naval officers to a vanquished enemy, did not present a more striking contrast than that of the two governments towards prisoners who had never taken up arms. Those placed in confinement by us were never allowed to suffer through want of clothing or food, while a barbarity characterized the treatment of American citizens that reflects the deepest disgrace on the British empire.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Dartmoor Prison.]

When the declaration of war was made, the English vessels had a vast number of American seamen on board, most of them impressed, who flatly refused to fight against their country. Many of these, without having received the pay due them, were then sent to England as prisoners of war. Captures at sea swelled the number rapidly, which in the end amounted to nearly six thousand men. Officers of privateersmen and merchantmen on parole, were sent to Devonshire or Berkshire, where on thirty-three and a quarter cents per diem, they were allowed to subsist in comparative comfort; but the common sailors and merchant captains were scattered about in different prisons, the most, however, being collected and placed on board two old line-of-battle-ships in Portsmouth harbor. Hence, after a short imprisonment, characterized by a brutality not often found among half-civilized nations, they were transferred to Dartmoor prison, seventeen miles inland. This dreaded prison was situated high up on the side of a barren mountain, overlooking a bleak and desolate moor. It consisted of seven buildings, surrounded by two walls, the first a mile in extent and sixteen feet high; the second, thirty feet from the first, and surmounted by guards overlooking the s.p.a.ces within. Each prison had but one apartment on a floor, around which, in tiers, six on a side, the hammocks were slung. Into one of these large cold apartments, nearly five hundred American prisoners were crowded during the year 1813. Their own Government had not then provided any thing towards their expenses, and they were dependent entirely on the allowance of the British officials. The garments they brought with them, at length wearing out, they were reduced to the most miserable shifts to cover their persons. As soon as it was dark, this half-famished mult.i.tude was turned into their prison, and left without a light to pa.s.s the long and dreary winter nights. Filthy, ragged, covered with vermin, they strolled around the yard in the day time, or lay basking in the sun to obtain a little warmth, and moody and despairing, gradually sank, through degrading companionship and the demoralization of want and suffering, lower and lower in the scale of humanity. A single bucket, only, containing the food, was allowed to a mess, around which they gathered with the avidity of starving men, and each with his wooden spoon struggled to eat fastest and most. To add to their sufferings the small-pox broke out among them, carrying many to their graves. Faint and far echoes from home would now and then rekindle hope in their bosoms, to be succeeded only by blank despair.

The better portion strove manfully to arrest the tendency around them to degradation, and const.i.tuted themselves a court to try offenders.

When theft was proved on one, a punishment of twenty-seven lashes was inflicted. They also used every inducement to prevent the sailors from enlisting in the British service, to which last resort many were driven, to escape the horrors of that gloomy prison.

When the 4th of July arrived, they determined to celebrate the national anniversary in their own prison, and so having by some means obtained two American standards, they placed them at the two ends of the building, outside the walls, and forming into two columns marched up and down the yard, singing patriotic songs, whistling patriotic tunes, and cheering the flag of their country. The keeper, hearing of it, ordered the turnkeys to take away the flags; but the prisoners sent to him, requesting as a particular favor that they might be allowed to celebrate the anniversary of their country's independence, adding if he insisted on attacking their colors he must take the consequences. The guards were then ordered in, when a scuffle ensued, in which one flag was taken, but the prisoners bore the other off in triumph to their room. At evening, when the guards came as usual to shut them up, a great deal of severe language and opprobrious epithets were used, stigmatizing the pitiful revenge in taking away their flags as mean and contemptible. Retorts followed, blows succeeded, and finally the guard fired on the crowd, wounding two men. Thus ended the 4th of July, 1813, in Dartmoor.

In the apartments above the Americans, were crowded nearly a thousand French prisoners, miserable outcasts, with scarcely any thing left of our common humanity but the form. Many of them were entirely naked, and slept on the stone floor, stretched out like so many swine. The moment clothing was given them they would gamble it away. These wretches formed a conspiracy to murder all the Americans. Arming themselves with whatever weapon they could lay hands on, they contrived one morning to get into the yard before the latter, and as the first group of Americans, a hundred and fifty in number, emerged into the open air, fell upon them with the ferocity of fiends. Pa.s.sing between them and the prison, they blocked the entrance to prevent the others from coming to the rescue. A wild scene of confusion and tumult followed. The French succeeded in stabbing and knocking down and mangling nearly every American, and would doubtless have beaten the whole to death had not the guard, attracted by the cries for help and shrieks of murder, rushed in, and by a bayonet charge ended the fray.

A great number of the Americans were more or less injured and twenty shockingly mangled.

The succeeding months pa.s.sed drearily away, with nothing occurring to break the weary monotony of life, except at long intervals the arrival of a fresh squad of prisoners. This was an event in their existence, and replaced them once more in communication with the outward world.

The new comers were lions for the time. Eager groups gathered around each one, impatiently asking after the news, and how the war got on.

The triumphs of our navy made them forget, for awhile, the gloom of their dismal abode. Every action had to be described over and over again, losing nothing by Jack's embellishments--the narration ever and anon interrupted with huzzas and acclamations. They would lie for hours awake in their hammocks, listening to the recital of the marvellous sea-fights in which "free trade and sailors' rights" were gallantly maintained, and cheers would burst out of the darkness, ringing down through the tiers of cots that lined the walls.

During the autumn of 1813, a fresh arrival of prisoners brought the news of Perry's victory on Lake Erie, and the capture of the Boxer by the Enterprise. These were the occasion of great rejoicing, and while the more intelligent and respectable portion of the captives discussed the victories calmly, the hundreds of common seamen shook the prison walls with their uproarious mirth and unbounded exultation.

[Sidenote: 1813.]

The sufferings of the prisoners were the greatest during this winter. They were allowed no fire and no light, although the windows were not glazed; and locked within the cold damp stone walls at the close of the short winter days, were compelled to spend the long winter evenings in darkness, whiling away the time in telling stories--keeping warm by huddling together, or creeping to their hammocks with but a single tattered blanket to protect them from the cold. To make their wretchedness complete, the winter set in with a severity not felt before for half a century, and which has had no parallel since. The mountain on which the prison stood was covered with snow to the depth of from two to four feet. The stream running through the prison yard, and the buckets of water in the prisoners'

room were frozen solid. Most of the prisoners being protected only by rags, and dest.i.tute of shoes, they could not go out into the yard at all, for it was covered with snow, but lay crouched in their hammocks all day and all night. The strong were bowed in gloom and despair, and the weak perished in protracted agonies. To fill up the measure of their sufferings, the commanding officer issued an order compelling them to turn out at nine o'clock in the morning, and stand in the yard till the guard counted them. This took nearly an hour, during which time the poor fellows stood barefoot in the snow, benumbed by the cold and pierced by the bleak December blasts that swept the desolate mountain, and hurled the snow in clouds through the air. Unable to bear this dreadful exposure, the prisoners cut up their bedding and made garments and socks for their feet to protect them from the frost, and slept on the cold floor. Morning after morning, hardy men overcome by the cold, fell lifeless in presence of their keepers, and were carried to the hospital, where they were resuscitated, only to be sent back to shiver and suffer on the icy floor of their prison. The better cla.s.s remonstrated against this useless cruelty, but without effect.

[Sidenote: Dec.]

At length, in the latter part of the month, the agent was removed, and Captain Shortland took his place, who immediately revoked the order requiring the prisoners to be counted--represented strongly to the board of transport the condition they were in, and used all the means in his power to alleviate their sufferings and ameliorate the horrors of their confinement. Still, no clothing was furnished, and the cold was intense. The camp distemper also broke out, and many were not sorry to take it, in order to get in the more comfortable quarters of the hospital.

Mr. Beasely was agent for American prisoners of war in England, to whom those at Dartmoor constantly appealed for help. Receiving no answers to their repeated appeals, they denounced him as unfeeling and indifferent to their distress. At last, enraged at the neglect of their own Government, as represented in Mr. Beasely, and maddened by suffering, they drew up a paper and sent it to him, in which they declared that unless relief was granted they would offer, _en ma.s.se_, their services to the British Government. To this no answer was received for about a month, when a letter arrived, announcing that the United States would allow them about three cents a day to buy soap and tobacco with. Slight as this relief was, it shed sunshine through that prison. True, it was not sufficient to purchase them clothing; it did more, however; it showed that they were recognized by their Government--they were no longer disowned, forgotten men, but stood once more in communication with the land of their birth, and acknowledged to be American citizens. The moral effect of this consciousness was wonderful, and notwithstanding their nakedness and forlorn appearance, the prisoners felt at once a new dignity. A committee was appointed to suppress gambling, and a pet.i.tion got up to separate them from the blacks, who were irredeemably given over to thieving. Previous to this ninety-five had entered the British service; now every one spurned the thought. They never would desert the country that owned them as sons.

In the spring the rigorous restrictions laid on them were relaxed, and they were allowed the privilege of the French prisoners. Free access to the other prisoners and to the market were given, and they established a coffee-house in their prison, selling coffee at a penny a pint. From French officers they learned the news of the day. The world was thus again thrown open to them, and though the prospect of exchange grew dimmer and dimmer, they resigned themselves with more tranquillity to their contemplated long confinement. In the mean time money began to arrive from friends at home, on which, as a capital, the recipients set up as tobacconists, b.u.t.ter and potatoe merchants, etc. Imitating the French, they learned to be economical, and invent methods of increasing their revenue. The bones left from their beef were converted into beautifully wrought miniature ships. Others plaited straw for hats, made hair bracelets, list shoes, etc., turning that gloomy receptacle of despairing, reckless men, into a perfect hive of industry. Soon after, another letter from Mr. Beasely arrived, stating that six cents a week, in addition to the former sum, would in future be allowed, per man. This little sum diffused new pleasure around, and filled every heart with animation and hope. They could now purchase clothing and other little articles, necessary to render their appearance becoming American citizens.

Succeeding this came the news of Napoleon's downfall and termination of the continental war. The French prisoners were, of course, released, and the Americans purchased out their stock in trade, utensils, &c.

Among the prisoners were gray-haired men, and boys from thirteen to seventeen years of age. For the latter a school was established, to instruct them in reading, writing, and arithmetic. Soon another welcome letter was received, announcing that the United States would hereafter clothe them. Clad in clean new, though coa.r.s.e clothing, they now trod the yards of their prison with a manly bearing. The sense of inferiority was gone, and the characteristic boldness and independence of the American seamen again shone forth. They would argue with English officers on the war, repel insult, and denounce every act of cruelty or fraud as freely as if on their own soil.

The English Government having resolved to make Dartmoor the general depot of the prisoners, fresh arrivals soon swelled the number to fourteen hundred. [Sidenote: 1814.] Being now in a better condition, they resolved to celebrate the approaching 4th of July with becoming pomp. American colors were obtained, two hogsheads of porter and some rum purchased, and a grand dinner of soup and beef prepared. Early in the morning the flag was run up, and as it flaunted to the wind, "ALL CANADA, OR DARTMOOR PRISON FOR EVER!" was seen inscribed upon its folds. At eleven the prisoners a.s.sembled, while the walls around were lined with the English soldiers and officers and clerks, curious to hear what kind of an oration a Yankee sailor would make. Mounted on a cask, the orator launched at once into the war, showed how we had been forced into it by the injustice of England, and dwelt with great unction on the separate naval victories the brave tars had gained.

Dinner followed, the grog circulated freely, toasts were given, and a song composed expressly for the occasion sung. Mirth and hilarity ruled the hour, and the walls of that old prison shook to the deafening cheers and boisterous mirth of these sons of the ocean.

Soon after a plan of escape was put in execution, and for a long time proceeded without detection. Every prisoner was sworn to secresy, and a court organized to try any informer, who in case of conviction, was to be hung. Shafts were sunk in the ground--the hole at the top being carefully concealed--and broad excavations began and worked towards the walls, beyond which they were to come to the surface. A traitor, however, was found, who for the price of his liberty revealed all.

From time to time some of the prisoners made their escape, but most of them were retaken before they reached the sea-board.[12]

[Footnote 12: A most daring and successful attempt was made by one of the lieutenants of the privateer Rattlesnake. Having bribed one of the sentinels with six guineas, to give him the countersign, he let himself down with a rope, eighty feet, to the ground, and was just about to pa.s.s the gate, when the villain who had received the six guineas, informed against him. Enraged at the act, the lieutenant sprung on him with his dagger, but was seized and bound before he could plunge it in his heart. Arraigned before Capt. Shortland, he was asked how he obtained the countersign. Lieutenant G---- replied, that if the sentinel had behaved honorably to him, death itself could not have wrested his name from him, for it was the character of Americans always to keep their engagements; but, as he had deceived him, he should suffer for it. The culprit's name was then given, and he received three hundred lashes. Shortland then told the lieutenant he was a brave man, and pledged his honor, if he would not again attempt to escape, he would procure his exchange. The latter replied, that he had seen too much of the honor of British officers, ever to take their word, and he should escape that very night. The keeper a.s.sured him the attempt would be fatal, as he should double the sentinels, and if he made it he would most certainly be shot. Lieutenant G---- said he did not care--death was preferable to that detestable prison. Having obtained the countersign again, for three guineas, he that very night lowered himself down, and though challenged seventeen times, pa.s.sed safely out. Keeping the fields he made his way to the sea-coast, where he found a boat eighteen feet long, with one oar in it. In this frail vessel, without provision or water, he determined to put to sea, and cross the channel, one hundred miles, to France. Sculling it till he got off sh.o.r.e, he converted his umbrella and clothes into a sail, and stood boldly away. When about half way over, he discovered a brig-of-war. The sea was running high at the time, but he immediately took down the sail, and laid himself flat in the boat, to avoid being seen. After the brig had pa.s.sed him, he again hoisted sail, and after a pa.s.sage of thirty-six hours, landed safely in France.]

The number of prisoners continued to increase, so that by autumn, over five thousand were congregated in the prison. Before they were released, the number was swelled to five thousand six hundred and ninety-three. Frequent collisions occurred between them and the officers, which embittered the animosity of the latter, and finally brought on a b.l.o.o.d.y catastrophe.

With the approach of winter great suffering was experienced. The malignant small-pox again broke out, and raged with fatal violence amid this army of men.

The news of the treaty of peace, however, dissipated, for a time, all their gloom, and diffused joy and hope through the prisons. The word "HOME," was on every man's lips, and a speedy release from that den of horrors and suffering was expected. But the gloomy winter pa.s.sed, and spring came, without mitigating their condition or restoring them to freedom. The prisoners became exasperated. The two countries having been so long at peace, they felt themselves ent.i.tled to their freedom.

They were no longer prisoners of war, but by the very act of the treaty, American freemen. They burnt Mr. Beasely, the American agent, in effigy, railed at their keepers, and swore they would make their escape by violence if not soon released.

On the fourth of April, Captain Shortland having gone to Plymouth, they were not allowed any bread. Bearing the privation patiently, for thirty-six hours, they resolved to break open the store-house and supply themselves. So at dark as the officers entered the yard and cried out, "_Turn in! Turn in!_" a signal previously agreed on was given, and in an instant the excited thousands moved in one dark ma.s.s towards the gates. One after another gave way before the tremendous pressure, and these maddened hungry men rushed around the depot of provisions, their shouts and cries ringing over the alarm bells and beat of drums, that summoned the garrison to arms. The alarm spread to the neighboring villages, and the militia began to pour in. In a few moments the soldiers advanced with charged bayonets towards the mult.i.tude, when they were sternly ordered off by the prisoners, who swore that if they dared fire or charge, they would charge in turn, and level that store-house to the ground, and march out of prison. The officers, fearing the result of such a contest, prudently promised to give them their usual supply if they would retire to their respective prisons. They did so, and quiet was restored. The bold and successful manner in which the Americans had overawed the soldiery and coerced submission to their demands, irritated them highly, and made them wish for a good opportunity to retaliate. [Sidenote: April 6.] This was soon furnished. Two days after, Captain Shortland, who had returned, observed a hole in that portion of the inner wall which separated two of the prison yards from the barracks, and suspecting, or pretending to suspect it was made by the prisoners for the purpose of escaping, he immediately ordered the alarm bells to be rung and the drums to beat. The prisoners, surprised and excited, rushed towards the gates of the yard to ascertain the cause of the alarm. The thousands behind pushing forward the thousands before, they became packed in an impenetrable ma.s.s at the entrance, and the pressure was so great that some were forced out through one of the gates that gave way. In the midst of the confusion, Shortland entered the inner square with the whole garrison. The soldiers advanced close to the throng, when the prisoners retired towards their respective yards. Doubtless amid such a vast and motley collection of men, many taunted the soldiers, provoked them, and dared them to fire. Still they yielded before the bayonet, and entered their own yard. The gates were shut, but a large crowd remained in the pa.s.sage, provoking the soldiers, from whom they were separated by an iron railing, and threatening them with vengeance. While in this position the order to fire was given.

Immediately the ma.s.sacre commenced. Volley after volley was poured into the terrified crowd, pushing down and trampling on each other in their haste to reach the shelter of the prisons. Men were killed in the act of supplicating mercy, others were shot down while struggling to enter the prison doors. It was cold-blooded murder, and before all the prisoners could get within the walls, over sixty were killed or wounded. When the living had all escaped to a place of shelter, and the carnage was over, the prison yard presented a ghastly spectacle.

The man of sixty, the sailor in his prime, and the boy of fifteen, lay scattered around, while the groans of the wounded were borne to the ears of the enraged prisoners within. A sullen silence fell on those gloomy structures, the flags were raised half-mast, in token of mourning, and the prisoners a.s.sembled together and appointed a committee to report on the matter.

Although the coroner's jury over the slain gave a verdict of justifiable homicide, our Government took up the matter, and appointed Charles King to meet Mr. Larpent, the English commissioner, and investigate it. In their report no one was declared culpable, though it was freely admitted wrong had been done. Mr. King was severely censured for his conduct, but it was not easy to come to a just conclusion, when the testimony of the two parties were so entirely at variance. Mr. Larpent was bound to believe the a.s.sertions of Captain Shortland and his troops, as much as Mr. King those of the prisoners.

Capt. Shortland declared he never gave the order to fire, and attempted to arrest it after it had begun. This, of course, the prisoners denied, some of them swearing they heard him give the order. One thing, however, is certain; Mr. King never should have let this ma.s.sacre of Americans pa.s.s, with so slight a condemnation as it received at his hands. In the first place, there is good reason to doubt whether Captain Shortland believed there was any great danger at all. A hole in a wall, only large enough to admit the pa.s.sage of a single man at a time, could easily be stopped up without ringing alarm bells and beating drums, especially as that hole communicated with only two out of five of the yards, and when in three of these yards the prisoners were walking about in their usual quiet manner. Nor could he believe they meditated an escape, when they had just received word that preparations were nearly completed for their restoration to liberty. Where could they escape to without money or clothing?

Besides, if they wished to free themselves by violence, why did they not do it two days before, when they had completely cowed the soldiers and had only to march forth without farther resistance.

In the second place, he deserved disgrace and punishment, for allowing the soldiers to press on the mult.i.tude, when he saw them evidently, or the great ma.s.s of them, retiring to their prisons. To fire on a mob, unless they are pressing forward to a.s.sail authority and force, is brutal. If he gave the order to fire, he should have been hung. If he did not, he should be held responsible for having such undisciplined troops under his command. An act like this cannot be committed and n.o.body be deserving of reprehension. The commander of a garrison cannot so escape responsibility. The probability is, enraged at the conduct of the prisoners in forcing the soldiers to yield to their demands two days before, he resolved to punish the first attempt at insubordination, and irritated at the insolence and taunts of some of them, he in a fit of pa.s.sion gave the order to fire. Conscience-smitten afterwards, and fearing disgrace and punishment, he endeavored to cover up the dark transaction.

Mr. King had rather, at any time, smooth over a quarrel, than increase the exasperation by dealing sternly with its causes. With his thousand n.o.ble and excellent qualities, he lacked the energy of will and unflinching severity necessary to probe such a difficulty to the bottom, and see that justice was done at whatever cost. A great wrong was committed, though doubtless with good intentions and a patriotic heart.