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 assumed 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 ragamuffins 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 principal 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 assume 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 pricked 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 passed 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 assemblage of blacks affords many curious anecdotes, and much matter for speculation. These blacks have a ruler among them whom they call king dick. 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 glutæus muscles to mortify.
Beside his majesty King Dick, 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 Dick and this priest. Dick 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 Dick that his nervous arm and massy 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 assist and countenance both Dick 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 substitute for a live one, barely sufficient to keep a man out of the mud.
Beside king Dick, 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 assumed 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 Dick, 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 Dick 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 cock-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 assemblage 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 hell 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, God-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 Dick, 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 passed over the threshold of grace, stood up behind them.
A little dispute, if not quite a schism, has existed between Simon, the priest, and deacon John. The latter, while in the family of a royal Duke, had learned that it was proper to read prayers, already made, and printed to their hands; but Simon said, he should make but few converts if he read his prayers. He said that prayers ought to spring at once, warm from the heart; and that reading prayers was too cold a piece of work for him or his church. But John said, in reply, that reading prayers was practised by his royal highness the duke of Kent, and all the noble families in England, as well as on board all his Britannic majesty's ships of war. But Simon, who had never waited on royalty, nor ever witnessed the religious exercises of an English man of war, would not believe this practice of the British nation ought to have weight with the reformed Christians of the United States. There was a diversity of opinion in the black church; and the dispute once grew so warm, that Simon told John, that it was his opinion, that "he who could not pray to his God, without a book, would be damned."
His majesty king Dick finding that this dispute might endanger the peace of the church, and, possibly, diminish his own influence, advised that the dispute should be left to the decision of a neighboring methodist preacher, who sometimes visited the prison, in a labor of love. The preacher came, and heard patiently, the arguments of both sides, and finally decided, as king Dick doubtless foresaw, in favor of Simon. He said that the reason why his royal highness the duke of Kent, and all the royal family, and all the nobility and parliament men read their prayers, was, because they had not time to make them, each one for himself. Now Deacon John was a better reasoner than Simon; but Simon had the most cant; and he, of course, prevailed. It is probable that John had concluded, that if he could carry a vote for reading prayers, he, himself, would be the reader; and then he should become as conspicuous as Simon. Emulation, and the desire of distinction, the great, and indeed main-spring of this world, was as apparent among these degraded sons of Africa, as among any white gentlemen and ladies in the land. John's ambition, and his envy, operated just like the ambition and envy of white people. At length, when the deacon found that, since the decision of the methodist, his supporters deserted him, he made his mind up to follow the current, and to justify his conduct by inculcating a spirit of conciliation and union. This shrewd fellow knew, that if he did not follow the current, he should lose the privilege he enjoyed of sitting at the end of the table, opposite to Simon; and of leaning his head on the great bible, while Simon was preaching; privileges too great to be slighted in such a church; and directly after a religious dispute.
Since I returned home, and while transcribing this journal for the press, I have thought that the conduct of deacon John was from the self same principle with that which actuated the federalists, since the dissolution and disgrace of the Hartford Convention. This faction, it seems, found themselves after the peace, and after the battle of New Orleans, going fast down the stream of popular opinion; and then it was that they preached up conciliation, liberality, and union; then it was they caught hold of the skirts of the land and naval heroes; nay, they went so far as to hail Jefferson and Madison as brother Unitarians! In short, the situation of black John, and the federalists of Massachusetts, was exactly the same; and their conduct in every point, similar; and the leading federalists of Boston have been left, like the deacon of the negro congregation, in No. 4, Dartmoor prison, to lean upon the great bible; which sacred volume these persons are sending to all parts of the world, not being sufficiently awake to consider it will democratize other parts of the world, beside America.
When the British General Prescott commanded at Rhode Island, in the revolutionary war, (the same whom our Major Barton stole, and carried off in the night, from his head quarters, in a whale boat) he was very much disliked for his silly haughtiness, and unbecoming pride. One day a Baptist preacher waited upon him to complain of an oppression exercised on some of his followers, by the military, and taking his bible out of his pocket, he began to read a passage which he deemed applicable to the case; on sight of which the General flew into a rage, and drove the preacher, with his bible, out of the room, saying, "if it had not been for that d—d book, we should not have had this rebellion." Bating the profane epithet, we give the angry Scotchman credit for his sagacity. The observation would not have disgraced his countryman, David Hume.
Simon, the priest, enjoyed one great and envied privilege, which John never pretended to, namely, an acquaintance and intercourse with the angel Gabriel. He had many revelations from this celestial messenger, and related them to his church. They related principally to the fate of his fellow prisoners; one, in particular, he told to his church with awe and solemnity.
I saw, said he, a great light, shining only through the grates of one window, before the hour of day break. I looked up, and saw something like a man with wings. I was at first frightened, and cried out, "who comes dare?" for I could not see his face. Directly the bars of the window beat each way, and his head and shoulders came in, when I knew him to be the angel Gabriel. "Simon," said he, "I am come to tell you that this prison will be sunk before forty days, because its inhabitants are so wicked, and will not repent." Den I tank him; and he drew back his head again; and the iron bars were restored to their place again, when he spread out his wings, which were covered with ten thousand stars, which made a great light when he flew away. Such was the method used, by this artful black man, to rouse his countrymen out of the sink of vice; and it had the desired effect. This prediction solemnized several of the negroes, and had more or less effect upon all of them. They became more liberal in their contributions, which enabled Simon to purchase a new green coat. It seemed as if the most profligate of these fellows, had a secret dread of Simon's prediction, and were willing to gain his favor by contributions, instead of repentance. Has not this disposition founded churches, monasteries and nunneries? Many of Simon's church are strongly impressed with the apprehension of the prison sinking within forty days.
These blacks have been desirous of having their prison the centre of amusement. They act plays twice a week, and as far as close imitation of what they have seen and heard, and broad grimace, they are admirable; but they are, half the time, ignorant of the meaning of the words they utter.—The gate-ways and century-boxes are plaistered over with play-bills, announcing—Othello, for the first time, by Mr. Robinson—Desdemona, by Mr. Jones. I seldom failed to attend these exhibitions, and must confess that I never before or since, or perhaps ever shall laugh so heartily as at these troglodyte dramas. Their acting was assuredly the most diverting beyond all comparison, or example, I ever saw. They would cut so many negroish capers in tragedy, grin and distort their countenances in such a variety of inhuman expressions, while they kept their bodies either stiff as so many stakes, or in a monkeyish wriggle, and ever and anon such a baboon stare at Desdemona, whose face, neck and hands, were covered with chalk and red paint, to make him look like a beautiful white lady—was altogether, considering that they themselves were very serious, the most ludicrous exhibition of two legged ridiculousness I ever witnessed. In the midst of my loud applauses, I could not, when my sore sides would allow me to articulate, help exclaiming—O! Shakespeare! Shakespeare!—O! Garrick! Garrick!—what would not I give (an indigent prisoner) could I raise you from the dead, that you might see the black consequences of your own transcendent geniuses!—When Garrick rubbed himself over with burnt cork to make himself look like a Moor, or with lamp-black to resemble Mungo, it did pretty well; but for a negro man to cover his forehead, neck and hands with chalk, and his cheeks with vermillion, to make him look like an English, or American beauty, was too much. Had I been going up the ladder to be hanged, I should have laughed at this sight; for to all this outrageous grimace, was added a fantastic habiliment, and an odour from Desdemona and company, that associated the ideas of the skunk or the polecat. I presume that their august majesties, the emperor and empress of Hayti, have some means of destroying this association of ideas, so revolting to Americans.
After all, this may be in us a disgust grounded more in prejudice than nature. What we call delicacy is a refinement of civilization; and of course a departure from nature. See how the brutes enjoy rolling and wallowing in what we call dirt; next to them, we may observe the love of what we call filth in savages, and of those persons in our cities who stand nearest to them. Extreme cleanliness is the offspring of riches, leisure, luxury, and extreme refinement; nevertheless it is true what Swift says, that "persons with nice minds have nasty ideas." I suffered greatly, and so did many of our countrymen, on our first acquaintance with filth and vermin in this our British captivity. Many a time have I got up from my dinner as hungry as I sat down, when disgust has been greater than appetite. I have, however, gradually surmounted antipathies I once thought insurmountable. I am not the only one who has often retired from our disgusting repast, to my bunk or sleeping birth, in silent agony, there to breathe out to my Maker, woes too great for utterance. O, Britain! Britain! will there not be a day of retribution for these thy cruelties!
There are some in this dismal prison, who have been used all their lives, not to conveniences only, but to delicacies; who are obliged to submit to the disagreeables of this uncivilized mode of incarcerating brave men, for one of the first of Grecian, Roman, English and American virtues, the love of country, or patriotism. These unfortunate men, with minds far elevated beyond the officers who are placed here to guard, and to torment them, submit to their confinement with a better grace than one could have expected. When these men have eaten their stinted ration, vilely cooked, and hastily served up, they return to their hammocks, or sleeping births, and there try "to steep their senses in forgetfulness," until the recurrence of the next disgusting meal. On the other hand, some have said that they never before eat with such a keen appetite; and their only complaint has been, that there was not one quarter enough for them to devour. I was often satisfied with a quantity of food that was not half enough for my companions. Some have since said, that they devoured their daily allowance at Dartmoor, with more relish than they ever have since, when set down at tables, covered as our American tables are, with venison, poultry, the finest fish, and the best fruits of our country, with choice old cider, and good foreign wines.
A thing very disagreeable to me, arose from causes not occasioned by the enemy. I have been squeezed to soreness, by a crowd of rough, overbearing men, who oft times appeared to be indifferent whether they trampled you under feet or not. The "rough allies," so called, had no feeling for men smaller and weaker than themselves. From this gang, you could seldom get a civil answer. Their yells, and whooping, more like savages than white men, were very troublesome. The conduct of these, proved that it was natural for the strong to tyrannize over the weak. I have often thought that our assemblage of prisoners, resembled very much the Grecian and Roman democracies, which were far, very far, beneath the just, rational, and wisely guarded democracy of our dear America, for whose existence and honor we are all still heartily disposed to risk our lives, and spill our blood.
As not allowing us prisoners a due and comfortable portion of clean food, is the heavy charge I have to make against the British nation, I shall here, once for all, attempt to describe the agonies I myself sometimes felt, and observed others to endure, from cravings of hunger; which are keen sensations in young men, not yet arrived to their full growth. The hungry prisoner is seen to traverse the alleys, backwards and forwards, with a gnawing stomach, and a haggard look; while he sees the fine white loaves on the tables of the bread-seller, when all that he possesses cannot buy a single loaf. I have known many men tremble, and become sick at their stomachs, at the sight of bread they could not obtain. Sometimes a prisoner has put away a portion of his bread, and sworn to himself that he would not eat it until such an hour after breakfast; he has, however, gone to it, and picked a few crumbs from it, and replaced it; and sometimes he could no longer resist the grinding torments of hunger, but devoured it with more than canine appetite; for it must be understood that the interval between the evening and morning meal was the most distressing. An healthy, growing young man, feels very uncomfortable if he fasts five hours; but to be without food, as we often were, for fourteen hours, was a cruel neglect, or a barbarous custom. Our resource from hunger was sleep; not but that the sensations of hunger, and the thoughts of the deprivation, often prevented me from getting asleep; and at other times, when wrapt in sleep, I have dreamed of setting down to a table of the most delicious food, and most savory meats, and in the greatest profusion; and amidst my imagined enjoyment, have waked in disappointment, agony and tears. This was the keenest misery I ever endured; and at such times, have I cursed the nation that allowed of it, as being more barbarous than Algerines or wild Indians. The comparative size of the pieces of beef and bread is watched with a keen and jealous eye; so are even the bits of turnip in our soup, lest one should have more than the other. I have noticed more acts of meanness and dishonesty in men of respectable character, in the division and acquisition of the articles of our daily food, than in any other transaction whatever. Such as they would despise, were hunger out of the question. The best apology I can make for the practice of gaming is, the hope of alleviating this most abominable system of starvation. Had we been duly and properly fed, we never should have run so deeply into the hell of gambling. We did not want money to buy clothing, or wine, or rum, but to buy beef, and bread, and milk. I repeat it, all the irregularities, and, finally, the horrors and death, that occurred in a remarkable manner, in this den of despair, arose from the British system of scanty food for young men, whose vigorous systems, and habits of being full fed, demanded a third more solid flesh meat, than would satisfy a potatoe-eating Irishman, an oat-feeding Scotchman, or an half starved English manufacturer. After we have finished our own dinners in New England, we give to our cats and dogs, and other domestic animals, more solid nourishment, the remnant of our meals, than what we had often allowed us in the ships and prisons of "the world's last hope," Pickering's21 "fast anchor'd isle."