AMERICAN PRISONERS OF THE REVOLUTION

CHAPTER XIX

MORE ABOUT THE ENGLISH PRISONS--MEMOIR OF ELI BICKFORD--CAPTAIN
FANNING


Eli Bickford, who was born on the 29th of September, 1754, in the town
of Durham, N. H., and enlisted on a privateer, was taken prisoner by
the British, confined at first on the Old Jersey, and afterwards sent
to England with many others, in a vessel commanded by Captain
Smallcorn, whom he called "a sample of the smallest corn he had ever
met." While on board this vessel he was taken down with the
smallpox. No beds or bedding were provided for the prisoners and a
plank on deck was his only pillow. He and his fellow sufferers were
treated with great severity, and insulted at every turn. When they
reached England they were sent to prison, where he remained in close
confinement for four years and six months.

Finding a piece of a door hinge, he and some of the others endeavored
to make their escape by digging a passage under the walls. A report of
their proceedings reached the jailer, but, secure in the strength of
the walls he did not believe it. This jailor would frequently jest
with Bickford on the subject, asking him when he intended to make his
escape. His answers were so truthful and accurate that they served to
blind the jailor still further. One morning as this official entered
the prison he said: "Well, Bickford, how soon will you be ready to go
out?"

"Tomorrow night!" answered Bickford.

"O, that's only some of your nonsense," he replied.

However, it was true.

After digging a passage for some days underground, the prisoners found
themselves under an adjoining house. They proceeded to take up the
brick floor, unlocked the door and passed out, without disturbing the
inmates, who were all asleep. Unable to escape they concealed
themselves for awhile, and then tamely gave themselves up. Such a
vigilant watch was kept upon the house after they were missed from the
prison, that they had no other choice. So they made a contract with a
man who was to return them to the prison, and then give them half of
the reward of forty shillings which was offered for their re-capture.
So successful was this expedient that it was often put into operation
when they needed money.

As a punishment for endeavoring to escape they were confined in the
Black Hole for a week on bread and water.

Bickford describes the prison regulations for preserving order which
were made and carried out by the prisoners themselves. If a difficulty
arose between two of them it was settled in the following manner. The
prisoners formed a circle in the centre of which the disputants took
their stand, and exchanged a few rounds of well-directed blows, after
which they shook hands, and were better friends than before.

Bickford was not released until peace was declared. He then returned
to his family, who had long thought him dead. It was on Sunday morning
that he reached his native town. As he passed the meeting house he was
recognized, and the whole congregation ran out to see and greet him.

He had but seven dollars as his whole capital when he married. He
moved to Vermont, where he farmed a small place, and succeeded in
making a comfortable livelihood. He attained the great age of 101, and
was one of the last surviving prisoners of the Revolution.


THE ADVENTURES OF A NAVAL OFFICER

In the year 1806 a little book with this title was published in New
York, by Captain Nathaniel Fanning. It was dedicated to John Jackson,
Esquire, the man who did so much to interest the public in the
preservation and interment of the remains of the martyrs of the
prisonships in the Wallabout.

Fanning was born in Connecticut, in the year 1755. On the 26th of
May, 1778, he went on board the brig Angelica, commanded by Captain
William Dennis, which was about to sail on a six months cruise. There
were 98 men and boys in the crew, and Fanning was prize-master on
board the privateer. She was captured by the Andromeda, a frigate of
28 guns, five days from Philadelphia, with General Howe on board on
his way back to England.

All the prisoners were paraded on deck and asked if they were willing
to engage in his British Majesty's service. Nearly all answered in the
negative. They were then told that they were "a set of rebels," and
that it was more than probable that they would all be hung at
Portsmouth.

Their baggage was then taken away, and they were confined in the hold
of the ship. Their clothes were stolen by the sailors, and a frock and
cheap trousers dealt out to each man in their place.

The heat was intolerable in the hold, although they went naked. In
this condition they plotted to seize the vessel, and procured some
weapons through the agency of their surgeon. Spencer, the captain's
clerk, betrayed them to the captain of the Andromeda, and, after that,
the hatches were barred down, and they began to think that they would
all die of suffocation. The sentence pronounced upon them was that
they should be allowed only half a pint of water a day for each man,
and barely food enough to sustain life.

Their condition would have been terrible, but, fortunately for them,
they were lodged upon the water casks, over which was constructed a
temporary deck. By boring holes in the planks they managed, by means
of a proof glass, to obtain all the water they needed.

Between them and the general's store room was nothing but a partition
of plank. They went to work to make an aperture through which a man
could pass into this store room. A young man named Howard from Rhode
Island was their instigator in all these operations. They discovered
that one of the shifting boards abaft the pump room was loose, and
that they could ship and unship it as they pleased. When it was
unshipped there was just room for a man to crawl into the store
room. "Howard first went in," writes Captain Fanning, "and presently
desired me to hand him a mug or can with a proof glass. A few minutes
after he handed me back the same full, saying 'My friends, as good
Madeira wine as ever was drank at the table of an Emperor!'

"I took it from his hands and drank about half a pint.

"Thus we lived like hearty fellows, taking care every night to secure
provisions, dried fruit, and wines for the day following * * * and all
without our enemies' knowledge."

Scurvy broke out among the crew, and some of the British sailors died,
but the Americans were all "brave and hearty."

"The Captain would say, 'What! are none of them damned Yankees sick?
Damn them, there's nothing but thunder and lightning will kill 'em.'"
On the thirtieth of June the vessel arrived at Portsmouth. The
prisoners were sent to Hazel hospital, to be examined by the
Commissioners of the Admiralty, and then marched to Forton prison,
where they were committed under the charges of piracy and high
treason. This prison was about two miles from Portsmouth harbor, and
consisted of two commodious buildings, with a yard between them large
enough to parade a guard of 100 men, which was the number required to
maintain law and order at the station.

They also had a spacious lot of about three quarters of an acre in
extent, adjoining the houses, in which they took their daily
exercise. In the middle of this lot was a shed with seats. It was open
on all sides. The lot was surrounded by a wall of iron pickets, eight
feet in height. The agent for American prisoners was nicknamed by them
"the old crab." He was very old and ugly.

Only three-fourths of the usual allowance to prisoners of war was
dealt out to them, and they seem to have fared much worse than the
inmates of the Old Mill Prison at Plymouth.

Captain Fanning declares that they were half starved, and would
sometimes beg bones from the people who came to look at them. When
they obtained bones they would dig out the marrow, and devour it. The
guard was cruel and spiteful. One day they heated some pokers red hot
and began to burn the prisoners' shirts that were hung up to
dry. These men begged the guard, in a very civil manner, not to burn
all their shirts, as they had only one apiece. This remonstrance
producing no effect they then ran to the pickets and snatched away
their shirts. At this the officer on command ordered a sentinel to
fire on them. This he did, killing one prisoner, and wounding
several. There were three hundred American prisoners in the yard at
this time.

These prisons appear to have been very imperfectly guarded, and the
regular occupation of the captives, whenever their guards were asleep
or absent, was to make excavations for the purpose of escaping. A
great many regained their freedom in this manner, though some were
occasionally brought back and punished by being shut up for forty days
in the Black Hole on bread and water. Some, less fortunate, remained
three or four years in the prison.

There was always digging going on in some part of the prison and as
soon as one hole was discovered and plastered up, another would be
begun. For a long time they concealed the dirt that they took out of
these excavations in an old stack of disused chimneys. The hours for
performing the work were between eleven and three o'clock at
night. Early in the morning they ceased from their labors, concealing
the hole they had made by pasting white paper over it.

There was a school kept constantly in the prison, where many of them
had the first opportunity that had ever been granted them of receiving
an education. Many learned to read and write, and became proficient
in French.

At one time there were 367 officers confined in this place. In the
course of twelve months 138 of them escaped and got safely to
France. While some of the men were digging at night, others would be
dancing to drown the noise. They had several violins, and seem to have
been a reckless and jovial set.

The officers bunked on the second floor over the guard room of the
English officers. At times they would make so much noise that the
guard would rush up the stairs, only to find all lights out and every
man _asleep and snoring_ in his hammock. They would relieve their
feelings by a volley of abusive language and go down stairs again,
when instantly the whole company would be on their feet, the violins
would strike up, and the fun be more fast and furious than ever. These
rushes of the guard would sometimes be repeated several times a night,
when they would always find the prisoners in their hammocks. Each
hammock had what was called a "king's rug," a straw bed, and pillow.

At one time several men were suddenly taken sick, with strong symptoms
of poison. They were removed to the hospital, and for a time, there
was great alarm. The prisoners feared that "the same game was playing
here as had been done on the Old Jersey, where we had heard that
thousands of our countrymen had died." The poison employed in this
instance was glass pounded fine and cooked with their bread.

An English clergyman named Wren sympathized strongly with the
prisoners and assisted them to escape. He lived at Gosport, and if
any of the captives were so fortunate as to dig themselves out and
succeed in reaching his house, they were safe. This good man begged
money and food for "his children," as he called them.

On the second of June, 1779, 120 of them were exchanged. There were
then 600 confined in that prison. On the 6th of June they sailed for
Nantes in France. The French treated them with great kindness, made up
a purse for them, and gave them decent clothing.

Fanning next went to L'Orient, and there met John Paul Jones, who
invited him to go on board the Bon Homme Richard as a midshipman. They
sailed on the 14th of August on the memorable expedition to the
British Channel.

After being with Jones for some time Fanning, on the 23rd of March,
1781, sailed for home in a privateer from Morlaix, France. This
privateer was captured by the English frigate, Aurora.

"Captain Anthon and myself and crew," writes Mr. Fanning, "were all
ordered to a prison at about two miles from Falmouth. The very
dirtiest and most loathsome building I ever saw. Swarms of lice,
remarkably fat and full grown; bed bugs, and fleas. I believe the
former were of Dutch extraction, as there were confined here a number
of Dutch prisoners of war, and such a company of dirty fellows I never
saw before or since."

Yet these same poor fellows ceded to Captain Anthon and Mr. Fanning a
corner of the prison for their private use. This they managed to get
thoroughly cleansed, screened themselves off with some sheets,
provided themselves with large swinging cots, and were tolerably
comfortable. They were paroled and allowed full liberty within bounds,
which were a mile and a half from the prison. In about six weeks
Fanning was again exchanged, and went to Cherbourg in France, where he
met Captain Manly, who had just escaped from the Mill prison after
three years confinment.

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