Part 6 (1/2)
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.