In consequence of various attempts to escape prison, and of the late daring enterprise at noon-day, the officers of this ignoble fleet of prison ships grew very uneasy.—They, doubtless, felt that there was neither honor nor pleasure, but much danger, in this sort of service. It was often said among them, that they felt perfectly safe when they had several thousand French prisoners under their charge. These lively people passed their time in little ingenious manufactures, and in gaming; and seemed to wait patiently until their day of liberation should come; but these Americans, said they, are the most restless, contriving set of men we ever saw; their amusement seems to be contriving how to escape, and to plague their keepers. They seem to take a pleasure in making us uneasy, and in exciting our apprehensions of their escape; and then they laugh and make themselves merry at our anxiety. One of the officers said, that the American prisoners "had systematized the art of tormenting." There is a sort of mischievous humor among our fellows, that is, at times, rather provoking, to officers habituated to prompt obedience, and to a distance, and deference bordering upon awe, which our countrymen never feel for any man.
It seems that the British government, or the admiralty department, were fully acquainted with this state of things, and with the difficult task which the miserable officers of this miserable Medway-fleet had to perform. The government did not seem to wish to exercise a greater degree of rigor over the American prisoners; because they knew, and all Europe knew, thatthe United States treated their prisoners with distinguished humanity; and yet they firmly believed that unless more rigor was exercised, the Americans would rise upon their keepers before the winter commenced.
The rumor is, that we are to be sent toDartmoor prison. Some of our crew have lately received a letter from a prisoner in that depot of misery, for such he describes it. He tells us that it is situated in the most dreary and uncultivated spot in England; and that to the sterility of the soil are added the black coloring of superstition.
AMoor, a word not used in America, is used in England to denote a low, marshy piece of ground, or an elevated sterile spot, like our pine-barren's, divested of every thing like a pine tree. It denotes something between a beach and a meadow. It is a solemn-faced-truth in this country of our superstitious ancestors, that every extensive and drearymoor, in England, is haunted by troubled ghosts, witches, and walking dead men, visiting, in a sociable way, each other's graves. It is really surprising, to an intelligent American, and incredible, that stout, hearty, and otherwise bold Englishmen, dare not walk alone over the dreary spot, ormoor, where the prison now stands, in a dark and cloudy night, without trembling with horror, ata nothing! The minds of Scotchmen, of all ranks, are more or less beclouded with this sort of superstition. They still believe in ghosts, witches, and asecond sight! Free as we are from this superstition, we have rather more of it than the French. The English and American theatres still relish Macbeth and Hamlet. Beside the stories of witches flying about in the air, and dead men strolling over themoor, the letter contained an account of the origin of this new famous prison. It stated that thisDartmoorbelonged to that beautiful gambler, the Dutchess of Devonshire;[I]who lost it in a game of hazard with the Prince of Wales; who, to enhance the value of it, (he being, as all the world knows, a very contriving, speculating, economical, close fisted, miserly genius) contrived to have erected there a species of a fortress, enclosing seven very large buildings, or prisons, for the reception of captured seamen; from which establishment its royal landlord received a very handsome annual rent; and this princely anecdote is as firmly believed asthe stories of the witches, and the walking dead men. The only remark we would make upon it here, is, thatDartmoorhas a dismal idea associated with it—and that was sufficient to make our people conceive of it as a place doleful as a coal-pit.
Not long after the receipt of this letter, one hundred and fifty of our countrymen were sent off, by water, to thisDartmoor Prison; but the measles appearing among them, they were stopped at theNore, which is at the entrance of the Thames. They are every day drafting more, which are destined for the dismal prison house. We are all struck with horror at the idea of our removal from our ships in the river Medway, which runs through a beautiful country. It is "the untried scene," that fills us with dread, "for clouds and darkness rest upon it." Last year we were transported from inhospitable Nova Scotia, over the boisterous Atlantic; and suffered incredible hardships in a rough winter passage; and now we are to be launched again on the same tumultuous ocean, to go four hundred miles coast-wise, to the most dismal spot in England. Who will believe it? the men who exercised all their art and contrivance, and exerted all their muscular powers to cut through the double plankings and copper of a ship of the line, in hopes of escaping from her, now leave the same ship with regret! I have read of men who had been imprisoned, many years, in the Bastile, who, when liberated, sighed to return to their place of long confinement, and felt unhappy out of it! I thought it wondrous strange; but I now cease to be surprised. This prison ship, through long habit, and the dread of a worse place, is actually viewed with feelings of attachment. Of the hundred men who were sent hither last year, from Halifax, there are only about seventy of us remaining on board the Crown Prince. The next draft will lessen our numbers; and separate some of those who have been long associates in bondage. It is not merely the bodily inconvenience of being transported here and there, that we dread, so much as the exposure to insult, and sarcasm of our unfeeling enemies. We have been, and still dread to be again placed in rows, on board of a ship, or in a prison yard, to be stared at by the British vulgar, just as if we were Guinea negroes, exposed to the examination of some scoundrel negro merchants, commissioned to re-stock a plantation with black cattle, capable of thinking, talking, laughing and weeping.This is not all. We have been obliged often to endure speeches of this sort, most commonly uttered in theScotchaccent.—"My life on't that fellow is a renegado Englishman, or Irishman—an halter will be, I hope, his portion. D—n all such rebel-lookingrascals." Whatever our feelings and resentments may be on account of impressment, inhuman treatment, and plundering our fobs and pockets, and of our clothing, we never speak of the British king and government in terms of gross indecency; whereas, we American prisoners of war, are often assailed with the bitterest sarcasms and curses of thePresidentof theUnited States, theCongress, and some of our military commanders.
The British have been long in the habit of treating the Americans contemptuously. It began as long ago as 1757, whenLord Loudoun,General Abercromby,Admiral Holborne,Admiral Boscawen,Lord Colville,Sir Jeffry Amherst, andGeneral Wolfe, came over here to cut the wings and tail of the wild descendants of Englishmen, in order to make of them a kind of sea poy soldiery. It is a curious fact, that some of the Scotch highlanders were at that time shot by our Yankee sentinels, because they did not know enough of the English language to giveJonathanthe counter-sign! So long ago did mutual contempt begin between the natives ofOldEngland andNew.
I have already mentioned that all my family, as well as myself, were what they called "Federalists," orfault-finders, and opposers ofMadison'sadministration; and that I, and all the rest of us, dropt every trait of federalism in the British prisons, where, to call a man aFederalist, was resented as the deepest insult. I appeal toallmy companions in misery, for the accuracy of this opinion. A man who is willing to expose his life to the balls and bayonets of his country's foes, to the enemies of his government, and to the independence and union of his nation, holds his country and the government of his choice, in higher estimation than his life. Such a man cannot hear theUnited Statesand theirPresidentspoken of in terms of contempt, without feeling the keenest anguish. This I have felt; and have remarked its effects in the countenances of my insulted comrades. Situated as we are, it would be great imprudence to resent what we are often obliged to hear. Captivity, under British prison-keepers, and British captains of transport-men-of-war, are the proper colleges for teaching thelove of our republican government, and attachment to its administration; and they are proper places to make the rankest federalist abjure his errors, and cling to the constituted authorities of the country whose flag he adores, and for whose defence he exposes his life. It is inconceivable how closely we are here pressed together in the cause of our dear country; and in honor of its high officers. Were all the inhabitants of the United States as unanimous in their political sentiments, as we are, in the river Medway, they would all be ready to exclaim, each man to his neighbour,
Rouse, and revive your ancient glory,Unite—and drive the world before you.
Rouse, and revive your ancient glory,Unite—and drive the world before you.
July 1st, 1813.—Our feelings are all alive at this joyous season, for we are now making preparations for celebrating the birth-day of our nation; and though in captivity, we are determined not to suffer the gloriousFourth of Julyto pass over without testifying our undivided attachment to our beloved country, and to the cause it is fighting for.—Each mess are making arrangements in, besure, a small and humble, but a hearty way, for the celebration; and it is a curious spectacle to see the pleasureable anticipations of the prisoners, in a feast of good things, all of which would not amount to so plentiful a repast, as that which the criminals in our State Prison, near Boston, enjoy almost every day, the plenty of good porter excepted. Application has been made to Capt. Hutchinson, for an additional allowance of beer and porter, which request he has granted, with his usual goodness. Every brain is at work to know how to spend what we have been accumulating for theFourth of July, with the most pleasure, and the most propriety.
TheFourth of July, 1813, is past. We petitioned the commander to allow us to hoist the American flag, but he refused to gratify us. Application was then made to the Commodore, who gave permission that we might hoist our national colors, as high as the top of our railings; and the same permission was granted to all the other prison ships. We had obtained a drum and fife; and being all assembled on the forecastle, and such other parts of the ship as were accessible to us, prisoners, we in the morning struck up the animating tune ofYankee Doodle; and saluted the Nassau prison ship with three cheers, which was returned; theships more distant caught the joyful sound, and echoed it back to its source. The fife and drum, the latter ornamented with the king's arms, played the whole forenoon, while the jovial prisoners drank, inEnglish porter,Success to the American cause!
At twelve o'clock, an Oration, hastily prepared, and rather too inflammatory for about a tenth part of our audience, was delivered, by a prisoner of respectable talents; a man, who, having been impressed into the British service, had been promoted to the rank of boatswain of a frigate; and liberated from the service in consequence of his declaring it against his honor and conscience to fight against his countrymen, or aid in pulling down the colors of his nation. This man, very deliberately, mounted an elevation, and with great force, and with a characteristical freedom, pronounced an Address, which the prisoners listened to with profound silence, excepting the clapping of hands, and sometimes cheers, at the end of such sentences as warmed and overpowered their silence. At the close of the whole, the orator was greeted with three times, three cheers, throughout the ship, which reached even to the shores. The oratory of the boatswain seemed to electrify the officers and men set over us. The master and the surgeon appearedreallypleased; even Osmer, our jailor, "grinn'd horribly a ghastly smile."
After the Oration, we returned below to our prepared dinners, at which our reverend orator asked a blessing, with more fervor than is commonly observed in our Cossack clergymen; and we fell to, with a zest and hilarity rarely to be found among a large collection of prisoners. If, like the captive Jews on the Euphrates, we had hung our harps upon the willows of the Medway, we took them down on this joyous occasion. We felt the spirit of freedom glow within us; and we anticipated the day when we should celebrate our anniversary in that dear land of liberty, which we longed to see, and panted after, as the thirsty hart pants after the water brooks.
The Fourth of July was celebrated in a very becoming manner on board theNassauprison ship, by similar acts of rejoicing. I have obtained a copy of the Oration, delivered by a seaman, on that day. Among the audience, were several ladies and gentlemen from the neighbourhood.
Delivered by permission, on board the Nassau prison ship, at Chatham, England, by an American Seaman, prisoner of war.
Delivered by permission, on board the Nassau prison ship, at Chatham, England, by an American Seaman, prisoner of war.
MY FELLOW PRISONERS, AND BELOVED COUNTRYMEN,We are assembled to commemorate that ever memorable Fourth of July, 1776, when our forefathers, inspired with the love of liberty, dared to divest themselves of the shackles of tyranny and oppression: yes, my friends, on that important day these stripes were hoisted on the standard of liberty, as a signal of unity, and of their determination to fight under them, until America was numbered among the nations of the globe, as one of them, a free and independent nation. Yes, my countrymen, she was determined to spare neither blood nor treasure, until she had accomplished the grand object of her intentions; an object, my friends, which she was prompted by Heaven to undertake, and inspired by all that honor, justice, and patriotism could infuse; her armies were then in the field, with aWashingtonat their head, whose upright conduct and valorous deeds you have often heard related, and the memory of whom should be held sacred in the breasts of every true-born American. Let his heart beat high at the name ofWashington! Sacred as the archives of heaven! for he was a man of truth, honor, and integrity, and a soldier fostered by the gods, to be the saviour of his country.The struggle was long and arduous; but our rallying word was—"Liberty or Death!" Torrents of blood were spilt; towns and villages were burnt, and nothing but havoc, devastation and destruction, was seen from one end of the continent to the other; and this was not all; but, to complete the horrid scene, an infernal horde of savage murderers was prompted by our enemy to butcher our helpless wives and children! Then did our fathers' patriotic hearts swell in their bosoms, and they were ten-fold more resolved to break the yoke of the tyrant.I recite these things, my countrymen, that you may know how to prize your liberty, that precious gem for which your fathers fought, wading in rivers of blood, until it pleased the Almighty to crown their arms with success; and, glorious to relate, America was acknowledged free and independent, by all the powers of Europe. Happy period! then did our warriors exult in what they had so nobly achieved; then commerce revived, and thethirteen stripeswere hoisted upon the tall masts of our ships, and displayed from pole to pole; emigrants flocked from many parts to taste our freedom, and other blessings heaven had bestowed upon us; our population increased to an incredible degree; our commerce flourished, and our country has been the seat of peace, plenty and happiness, for many years. Atlength the fatal blast reached our land! America was obliged to unsheath the sword in justification of her violated rights. Our ships were captured and condemned upon frivolous pretensions; our seamen were dragged from their lawful employment; they were torn from the bosom of their beloved country; sons from their fathers; husbands from their wives and children, to serve with reluctance for many years, under the severity of a martial law. The truth of this many of you can attest to, perhaps with inward pining and a bleeding heart!My countrymen! I did not mount this rostrum to inveigh against the British; only the demagogues, the war faction I exclaim against. We all know, and that full well, that there are many honest, patriotic men in this country, who would raise their voices to succour us, and theirarmstoo, could they do it with impunity. The sympathetic hearts of the good, feel for the oppressed in all climes. And now, my countrymen, it is more than probable, that the land of your nativity will be involved in war, and deluged in blood, for some time to come; yes, my friends, that happy country, which is the guardian of every thing you possess, that you esteem, near and dear, has again to struggle for her liberty. The British war faction are rushing upon us with their fleets and armies, thinking, perhaps, to crush us in a moment. Strange infatuation! They have forgotten Bunker's Hill! They have forgotten Saratoga, and Yorktown, when the immortalWashington, with his victorious army, chased them through the Jerseys, under the muzzles of their ship's cannon for protection! They have forgotten that the sons of America have as good blood in their veins, and possess as sound limbs and nerves as they; strange infatuation! I repeat it, if they presume to think that eight millions of free people will be very easily divested of their liberty; my word for it, they will not give up at the sight of their men-of-war, or their red coats; no, my friends, they will meet the lads who will play them the tune of yankee doodle, as well as they did at Lexington, or Bunker Hill. Besides, my countrymen, there is a plant in that country, (very little of which grows any where else) the infusion of which stimulates the true sons of America to deeds of valor. There is something so fostering in the very sound of its name, that it holds superiority wherever it grows; it is a sacred plant, my friends, its name isLIBERTY, and may God grant that that plant may continue to grow in the United States of America, and never be rooted out so long as it shall please Him to continue the celestial orb to roll in yon azure expanse.Ah! Britons! Britons! had your counsellors been just, and had they listened with attention, and followed the advice of the immortalWilliam Pitt[K], Britain and America might have been one until the present hour; and they, united, in time might have given laws to the inhabitants of this terrestrial ball.Many of you, my friends, have voluntarily embraced this loathsome prison rather than betray your country; for by the laws of your country, to aid or give any assistance to an enemy, is treason, is punishable with death. I hope, therefore, that your country will reward you abundantly for your toil. And one and all, let us embrace the icy arms of death, rather than cherish the least symptoms of an inclination to betray our country. Some have done it, who have pretended to be Americans, so far as to shield themselves under the name.—Whether they wererealAmericans or not, it is hard for me to say; but if they were, they have put their hand to the plough, and not only looked back, but havegoneback. I have not the least doubt but they will meet their reward; that is, they will be spurned at by those very people that laid the bait for them. Such characters will forever be condemned, and held in detestation by both parties. Therefore all you who feel the tide of true American blood flow through your hearts, I hope never will attempt to flee from the allegiance of your country. It is cowardice, it is felony; and for all those who have done it, we may pray that the departed spirits of their fathers, who so nobly fought, bled, and fell in the conflict to gain them their liberty, will haunt them in their midnight slumbers, and that they may feel the horrors of conscience and the dread of a gallows! Also, that they may have no rest, but like the dove that Noah sent out of the ark, be restless until they return to the allegiance of their country.—And now, my countrymen, let us join in unison to correct our own morals; let us be vigilant over ourselves while in this situation. And although it is not in our power to assist our countrymen in the present conflict, yet if we are good the power of Heaven will fight for us; for the good must merit God's peculiar care. The powers of Heaven fought for us; they assisted us to gain our liberty, it is evident from the very circumstance, that in our struggle with Great Britain for our liberty, we had no navy, or none of any consequence, yet Great Britain lost more line of battle ships in that war than she did with France, although France is a great naval power. And we should be thankful to God for all the blessings he hath bestowed upon us from time to time, and in particular for the blessings of that unity which we are recently informed prevails among our countrymen in America; united they stand, nor will the powers of hell be able to overthrow them. And now let us appeal to the God of Sabaoth, that is, to the God of armies—let us appeal to Him who holds the balance, and weighs the events of battles and of realms, and by his decision we must abide. And may He grant us health, peace and unity in this our disagreeable situation; and let us all join in concord to praise the Ruler and Governor of the universe. Amen. Amen.
MY FELLOW PRISONERS, AND BELOVED COUNTRYMEN,
We are assembled to commemorate that ever memorable Fourth of July, 1776, when our forefathers, inspired with the love of liberty, dared to divest themselves of the shackles of tyranny and oppression: yes, my friends, on that important day these stripes were hoisted on the standard of liberty, as a signal of unity, and of their determination to fight under them, until America was numbered among the nations of the globe, as one of them, a free and independent nation. Yes, my countrymen, she was determined to spare neither blood nor treasure, until she had accomplished the grand object of her intentions; an object, my friends, which she was prompted by Heaven to undertake, and inspired by all that honor, justice, and patriotism could infuse; her armies were then in the field, with aWashingtonat their head, whose upright conduct and valorous deeds you have often heard related, and the memory of whom should be held sacred in the breasts of every true-born American. Let his heart beat high at the name ofWashington! Sacred as the archives of heaven! for he was a man of truth, honor, and integrity, and a soldier fostered by the gods, to be the saviour of his country.
The struggle was long and arduous; but our rallying word was—"Liberty or Death!" Torrents of blood were spilt; towns and villages were burnt, and nothing but havoc, devastation and destruction, was seen from one end of the continent to the other; and this was not all; but, to complete the horrid scene, an infernal horde of savage murderers was prompted by our enemy to butcher our helpless wives and children! Then did our fathers' patriotic hearts swell in their bosoms, and they were ten-fold more resolved to break the yoke of the tyrant.
I recite these things, my countrymen, that you may know how to prize your liberty, that precious gem for which your fathers fought, wading in rivers of blood, until it pleased the Almighty to crown their arms with success; and, glorious to relate, America was acknowledged free and independent, by all the powers of Europe. Happy period! then did our warriors exult in what they had so nobly achieved; then commerce revived, and thethirteen stripeswere hoisted upon the tall masts of our ships, and displayed from pole to pole; emigrants flocked from many parts to taste our freedom, and other blessings heaven had bestowed upon us; our population increased to an incredible degree; our commerce flourished, and our country has been the seat of peace, plenty and happiness, for many years. Atlength the fatal blast reached our land! America was obliged to unsheath the sword in justification of her violated rights. Our ships were captured and condemned upon frivolous pretensions; our seamen were dragged from their lawful employment; they were torn from the bosom of their beloved country; sons from their fathers; husbands from their wives and children, to serve with reluctance for many years, under the severity of a martial law. The truth of this many of you can attest to, perhaps with inward pining and a bleeding heart!
My countrymen! I did not mount this rostrum to inveigh against the British; only the demagogues, the war faction I exclaim against. We all know, and that full well, that there are many honest, patriotic men in this country, who would raise their voices to succour us, and theirarmstoo, could they do it with impunity. The sympathetic hearts of the good, feel for the oppressed in all climes. And now, my countrymen, it is more than probable, that the land of your nativity will be involved in war, and deluged in blood, for some time to come; yes, my friends, that happy country, which is the guardian of every thing you possess, that you esteem, near and dear, has again to struggle for her liberty. The British war faction are rushing upon us with their fleets and armies, thinking, perhaps, to crush us in a moment. Strange infatuation! They have forgotten Bunker's Hill! They have forgotten Saratoga, and Yorktown, when the immortalWashington, with his victorious army, chased them through the Jerseys, under the muzzles of their ship's cannon for protection! They have forgotten that the sons of America have as good blood in their veins, and possess as sound limbs and nerves as they; strange infatuation! I repeat it, if they presume to think that eight millions of free people will be very easily divested of their liberty; my word for it, they will not give up at the sight of their men-of-war, or their red coats; no, my friends, they will meet the lads who will play them the tune of yankee doodle, as well as they did at Lexington, or Bunker Hill. Besides, my countrymen, there is a plant in that country, (very little of which grows any where else) the infusion of which stimulates the true sons of America to deeds of valor. There is something so fostering in the very sound of its name, that it holds superiority wherever it grows; it is a sacred plant, my friends, its name isLIBERTY, and may God grant that that plant may continue to grow in the United States of America, and never be rooted out so long as it shall please Him to continue the celestial orb to roll in yon azure expanse.
Ah! Britons! Britons! had your counsellors been just, and had they listened with attention, and followed the advice of the immortalWilliam Pitt[K], Britain and America might have been one until the present hour; and they, united, in time might have given laws to the inhabitants of this terrestrial ball.
Many of you, my friends, have voluntarily embraced this loathsome prison rather than betray your country; for by the laws of your country, to aid or give any assistance to an enemy, is treason, is punishable with death. I hope, therefore, that your country will reward you abundantly for your toil. And one and all, let us embrace the icy arms of death, rather than cherish the least symptoms of an inclination to betray our country. Some have done it, who have pretended to be Americans, so far as to shield themselves under the name.—Whether they wererealAmericans or not, it is hard for me to say; but if they were, they have put their hand to the plough, and not only looked back, but havegoneback. I have not the least doubt but they will meet their reward; that is, they will be spurned at by those very people that laid the bait for them. Such characters will forever be condemned, and held in detestation by both parties. Therefore all you who feel the tide of true American blood flow through your hearts, I hope never will attempt to flee from the allegiance of your country. It is cowardice, it is felony; and for all those who have done it, we may pray that the departed spirits of their fathers, who so nobly fought, bled, and fell in the conflict to gain them their liberty, will haunt them in their midnight slumbers, and that they may feel the horrors of conscience and the dread of a gallows! Also, that they may have no rest, but like the dove that Noah sent out of the ark, be restless until they return to the allegiance of their country.—And now, my countrymen, let us join in unison to correct our own morals; let us be vigilant over ourselves while in this situation. And although it is not in our power to assist our countrymen in the present conflict, yet if we are good the power of Heaven will fight for us; for the good must merit God's peculiar care. The powers of Heaven fought for us; they assisted us to gain our liberty, it is evident from the very circumstance, that in our struggle with Great Britain for our liberty, we had no navy, or none of any consequence, yet Great Britain lost more line of battle ships in that war than she did with France, although France is a great naval power. And we should be thankful to God for all the blessings he hath bestowed upon us from time to time, and in particular for the blessings of that unity which we are recently informed prevails among our countrymen in America; united they stand, nor will the powers of hell be able to overthrow them. And now let us appeal to the God of Sabaoth, that is, to the God of armies—let us appeal to Him who holds the balance, and weighs the events of battles and of realms, and by his decision we must abide. And may He grant us health, peace and unity in this our disagreeable situation; and let us all join in concord to praise the Ruler and Governor of the universe. Amen. Amen.
Among the songs sung on this occasion, were several composed by seafaring people, in our own country. The following drew tears from the eyes of our generous hearted sailors. It pathetically describes what many of them had experienced, theimpressment of an American sailor boy, by a British man of war,the tearing up of his legal protection, and of hissinking under a broken heart. It was written by Mr.John De Wolfe, of Rhode Island.
A SONG,
Sung on board the British prison ship Crown Prince, the Fourth of July, 1813, by a number of the American prisoners.
The youthful Sailor mounts the bark,And bids each weeping friend adieu;Fair blows the gale, the canvass swells;Slow sinks the uplands from his view.Three mornings, from his ocean bed,Resplendent beams the God of day;The fourth, high looming in the mist,A war-ship's floating banners play.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 damn 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 aPirate'sheart.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 damn'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 hellish shout arose;Exultingly the demons cried,"So fare all Albion'sREBELfoes!"
The youthful Sailor mounts the bark,And bids each weeping friend adieu;Fair blows the gale, the canvass swells;Slow sinks the uplands from his view.
Three mornings, from his ocean bed,Resplendent beams the God of day;The fourth, high looming in the mist,A war-ship's floating banners play.
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 damn 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 aPirate'sheart.
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 damn'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 hellish shout arose;Exultingly the demons cried,"So fare all Albion'sREBELfoes!"
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 theUnited States. We all have felt and witnessed the animating effects of the simple national tune ofYankee 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 circumstances, will give us national songs. Many ages passed away, before England was animated by a national hymn. The Americans have parodied this hymn, substituting, "Godsave 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! Bloody villains! detestable associates! linked together byfear, and leagued with savages bynecessity, to murder a Christian people, for the alledged crime of fighting over again the battle of independence. Beware, bloody 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, butfearus. 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, inthe History of the Decline and Fall of theBritish Empire.
We closed the day, on this memorableFourth 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 toDartmoor 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 towardsus; and this has occasioned our treatingthemwith 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 continuallybothering[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 assured thatoldNew England has declared for the British; and that the governor of Massachusetts and his council had dined on board a British man of war in Boston harbor; and thatPresident Madisonhad been hanged in effigy in Boston, Newburyport and Portsmouth. At other times we were told positively, and circumstantially, 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 betweenAmerica and England was concluded; and that one of its conditions wasgiving 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 damned—Marblehead is foreverdamned—andwe are all damned; anddamnationseize 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 circumstantially, that we all believed them. When discovered to be false, they were calledgalley news, or galleypackets. 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 oflyingBob; 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 circumstances, so closely connected with acknowledged facets, that the most cautious and incredulous are often taken in by him. He is a constitutional 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 thehoax. 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 passions, 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 passion," 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 shore. We have had a methodist preacher exhorting us twice a week, until lately; but he has discontinued his visits; for he found the hearts ofsomeof 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 ridiculedallreligion, and talked in such an irreverent style of the bible, of Jesus Christ, and of the Virgin Mary, that our sailors would not associate 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 superstition 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; andall their stories and traditions tend to confirm this superstition. 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.Shakespearewould 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 frigateChesapeake. 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 asunlucky, 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, thatshe 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 defiedthe 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 anunluckyship. 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.
"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.
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 shore, gathering sticks to cook his fish. There the beggar enjoys the natural inheritance of man, sweetLiberty; if the unfeeling, the avaricious and morose, refuse his petition, 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 indefending "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 butfewprisonersalive. 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 amusement 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 tolet 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 butt 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 cock-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-twang," 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 bloody minded set of men, like the Portuguese and Spaniards; but they have the most, d—d provokingimpudenceI ever saw, in any men; if they did not accompany it all with peals of laughter, and in the spiritof fun, I should put them down as a set of hell-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 ofBoston, orSalem, 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 aset 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 passion, 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, principally, from having on board a number of these two classes 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 constitutions. The high flyingfederal 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 shores of New-England, during 1814 and 1815—especially of Massachusetts 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 assimilates, 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 association and assimilation. 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 assimilate 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.