A Journal of a Young Man of Massachusetts Part 6

This Indian was, by nature, a commander.

Something of the same cool and daring character was conspicuous in the master and crew of a very small New England schooner, in September 1759, when General Wolfe was investing Quebec by sea and land, and when the army and fleet under admiral Holmes, were cannonading and bombarding the city and numerous batteries of the French.

Amidst the grand movements of the army and navy, a schooner of the most diminutive size, which the navigator after called "_the Terror of France_," weighed her little anchor, and, to the astonishment of every one, was seen sailing past the batteries, up to the city. The French fired a great number of shot at her; nevertheless _Jonathan_ steered steadily on, and got safe up, with her colors flying; and coming to anchor in the upper river, she triumphantly saluted admiral Holmes with a discharge from all her swivels. She met with no accident, except one man being slightly wounded on board. During this, says captain Knox, our batteries fired briskly on the town, to favor her as she pa.s.sed. While the officers and gunners were enraged at what they deemed a contempt of their formidable batteries, other officers apologized afterwards for firing at this diminutive vessel, which was not much bigger than a man of war's launch, observing, that they imagined her pa.s.sing to be the result of a frolicsome wager. They little thought that she was a New England trader, or rather huxter, ladened with _notions_, such as apples, dried and green, apple-sauce, onions, cheese, mola.s.ses, New England rum, and gingerbread, and a number of little ditto's, suitable, as the skipper thought, for the Quebec market, after it should have changed masters.

When the _Captain_ of this famous little schooner went on board the British admiral, he enquired the name of his vessel. He replied, "_The Terror of France_;" which was painted on her stern. How are you armed?

_We have four swivels, three muskets, and one cutla.s.s, beside a broad axe._ How many men have you? _We have three souls and a boy._--And where does your vessel belong, _Captain_, when you are at home?

_Updike's Newtown._ And where is that, Sir? _Does not Admiral Holmes know where Updike's Newtown is?_ says Jonathan, with a look of surprize. I do not at this moment recollect, Sir. _Why Updike's Newtown is half way betwixt Pautuxet and Connanicut._ The British admiral did not choose to risk his reputation with this fearless waterfowl, by asking him any more geographical questions.

We have dwelt on this ludicrous anecdote for the sake of one serious remark. Capt. John Knox, of the 43d British regiment, whose Historical Journal, in 2 volumes quarto, is dedicated to General Lord Amherst, never once intimates that this courageous man was from New England, but leaves the reader to infer that he and his "three souls and a boy," were Englishmen. In this way have all the British writers treated us Americans, although we all know in this country, that Louisbourg was taken by New-England-men. Throughout the whole war of 1758, and 1759, the English strained their voices to magnify themselves, and debase our character.

In this anecdote we see the first glimmerings of the New England character, which defies all danger, in the pursuit of gain. Here we see the characteristic marks of the _Yankee_, full twenty years before that term was ever used. The greatest things were once in embryo.

These incipient germs will one day grow up to a naval and commercial greatness, that will infallibly push into the back-ground the conquerors of Quebec; and the spirit, which impelled and directed that diminutive schooner in pa.s.sing safely hundreds of heavy cannon, and showers of bombs, may one day become not only the _terror of France_, but of _England_ also. Great effects flow from trifling causes. It was a woman's[H] love of finery that peopled New England.

It was, to be sure, an extraordinary sight, mixed with something of the ludicrous, to see three white Americans, and one Indian, with a disarmed British red coat under their feet, in the jolly-boat, not daring to raise his head, while about thirty boats, with above 250 seamen, and nearly as many marines, were rowing, and puffing and blowing, and firing and loading, and loading and firing at a small boat, containing three American seamen and one Indian, without any weapon or instrument, except the oars they rowed with! While the British marines were ruffling the water around the flying boat with their bullets, we, on board the prison s.h.i.+ps, sensible of their danger, felt as much interest, and probably more apprehension, than the fugitives themselves.--It was an anxious period of hope, fear and animating pride, which sometimes petrified us into silence, and then caused us to rend the air with acclamations, and clapping of hands.

The Indian was, however, the hero of the piece. We saw, and admired his energetic mind, his abhorrence of captivity, and his _irresistible_ love of freedom. This fellow was not, probably, at all below some of the Grecian captains, who went to the siege of Troy; and he only wanted the advantages of education, and of modern discipline, to have become a distinguished commander. The inspiring love of liberty was all the theme, after the daring exploit of our countrymen; and it made us uneasy, and stimulated us to contemplate similar acts of hardihood. We had now become pretty nearly tired of cutting holes through the s.h.i.+p's bottom and sides; for it was always detected, and we were made to pay for repairing the damage out of our provisions.

After seeing what _four_ men could effect, our thoughts turned more upon a general insurrection, than upon the partial escapes of a few.

We perceived, clearly enough, that our keepers dreaded our enterprizing spirit; and we could discover that they knew we despised them, and ridiculed them. Some of our saucy boys, studying arithmetic, with their slates and pencils in their hands, would say out loud, as if stating a sum, "_if it took 350 British seamen and marines to catch four yankees, how many British sailors and marines would it take to catch ten thousand of us?_"

We could perceive a general uneasiness throughout our s.h.i.+p; even our good friend, Mr. ----, the worthy Scotchman, said to me, about this time, "your countrymen are such a restless, daring set of beings, that it is not safe to befriend you, and I wish you were all safe and happy in your own country; and all of us at peace." A change of situation was foretold; but of what kind, we know not.--The next chapter will inform us all about it.

PART SECOND.

CHAPTER I.

In consequence of various attempts to escape prison, and of the late daring enterprise at noon-day, the officers of this ign.o.ble fleet of prison s.h.i.+ps 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 pa.s.sed 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 amus.e.m.e.nt 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, that _the 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 to _Dartmoor 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 superst.i.tion.

A _Moor_, 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 superst.i.tious ancestors, that every extensive and dreary _moor_, 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, or _moor_, where the prison now stands, in a dark and cloudy night, without trembling with horror, at _a nothing_! The minds of Scotchmen, of all ranks, are more or less beclouded with this sort of superst.i.tion. They still believe in ghosts, witches, and a _second sight_! Free as we are from this superst.i.tion, 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 the _moor_, the letter contained an account of the origin of this new famous prison. It stated that this _Dartmoor_ belonged to that beautiful gambler, the Dutchess of Devons.h.i.+re;[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 as the stories of the witches, and the walking dead men. The only remark we would make upon it here, is, that _Dartmoor_ has a dismal idea a.s.sociated 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 this _Dartmoor Prison_; but the measles appearing among them, they were stopped at the _Nore_, 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 s.h.i.+ps 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 hards.h.i.+ps in a rough winter pa.s.sage; 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 s.h.i.+p of the line, in hopes of escaping from her, now leave the same s.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+p, 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 a.s.sociates 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 s.h.i.+p, 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 the _Scotch_ accent.--"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-_looking_ rascals." 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 a.s.sailed with the bitterest sarcasms and curses of the _President_ of the UNITED STATES, the CONGRESS, 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, when _Lord Loudoun_, _General Abercromby_, _Admiral Holborne_, _Admiral Boscawen_, _Lord Colville_, _Sir Jeffry Amherst_, and _General 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 give _Jonathan_ the counter-sign! So long ago did mutual contempt begin between the natives of _Old_ England and _New_.

I have already mentioned that all my family, as well as myself, were what they called "_Federalists_," or _fault-finders_, and opposers of _Madison's_ administration; and that I, and all the rest of us, dropt every trait of federalism in the British prisons, where, to call a man a _Federalist_, was resented as the deepest insult. I appeal to _all_ my companions in misery, for the accuracy of this opinion. A man who is willing to expose his life to the b.a.l.l.s 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 the _United States_ and their _President_ spoken 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 the love 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 const.i.tuted 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.

_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 glorious _Fourth of July_ to pa.s.s 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 antic.i.p.ations 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 acc.u.mulating for the _Fourth of July_, with the most pleasure, and the most propriety.

The FOURTH OF JULY, 1813, is past. We pet.i.tioned 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 s.h.i.+ps. We had obtained a drum and fife; and being all a.s.sembled on the forecastle, and such other parts of the s.h.i.+p as were accessible to us, prisoners, we in the morning struck up the animating tune of _Yankee Doodle_; and saluted the Na.s.sau prison s.h.i.+p with three cheers, which was returned; the s.h.i.+ps 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, in _English 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, p.r.o.nounced 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 s.h.i.+p, which reached even to the sh.o.r.es. The oratory of the boatswain seemed to electrify the officers and men set over us. The master and the surgeon appeared _really_ pleased; 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 antic.i.p.ated 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 the _Na.s.sau_ prison s.h.i.+p, 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.

AN ORATION,[J]

_Delivered by permission, on board the Na.s.sau prison s.h.i.+p, at Chatham, England, by an American Seaman, prisoner of war._

MY FELLOW PRISONERS, AND BELOVED COUNTRYMEN,

We are a.s.sembled 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 a WAs.h.i.+NGTON at their head, whose upright conduct and valorous deeds you have often heard related, and the memory of whom should be held sacred in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of every true-born American. Let his heart beat high at the name of WAs.h.i.+NGTON! Sacred as the archives of heaven! for he was a man of truth, honor, and integrity, and a soldier fostered by the G.o.ds, 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 n.o.bly achieved; then commerce revived, and the _thirteen stripes_ were hoisted upon the tall masts of our s.h.i.+ps, 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. At length the fatal blast reached our land! America was obliged to unsheath the sword in justification of her violated rights. Our s.h.i.+ps 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 their _arms_ too, 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 rus.h.i.+ng 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 immortal WAs.h.i.+NGTON, with his victorious army, chased them through the Jerseys, under the muzzles of their s.h.i.+p'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 is LIBERTY, and may G.o.d 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 immortal _William 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 a.s.sistance 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 s.h.i.+eld themselves under the name.--Whether they were _real_ Americans 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 have _gone_ back. 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 n.o.bly 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 a.s.sist our countrymen in the present conflict, yet if we are good the power of Heaven will fight for us; for the good must merit G.o.d's peculiar care. The powers of Heaven fought for us; they a.s.sisted us to gain our liberty, it is evident from the very circ.u.mstance, 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 s.h.i.+ps in that war than she did with France, although France is a great naval power. And we should be thankful to G.o.d 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 h.e.l.l be able to overthrow them. And now let us appeal to the G.o.d of Sabaoth, that is, to the G.o.d 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, the _impressment of an American sailor boy_, by a British man of war, _the tearing up of his legal protection_, and of his _sinking under a broken heart_. It was written by Mr. _John De Wolfe_, of Rhode Island.

_The Impressment of an American Sailor Boy._

A SONG,

_Sung on board the British prison s.h.i.+p 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 canva.s.s swells; Slow sinks the uplands from his view.

Three mornings, from his ocean bed, Resplendent beams the G.o.d of day; The fourth, high looming in the mist, A war-s.h.i.+p's floating banners play.