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CHAPTER III

Our prison ship contained a pretty well organized community. We were allowed to establish among ourselves an internal police for our own comfort and self government.—And here we adhered to the forms of our own adored constitution; for in place of making a King, Princes, Dukes, Earls, and Lords, we elected a President, and twelve Counsellors; who, having executive as well as legislative powers, we called Committee men. But instead of four years, they were to hold their offices but four weeks; at the end of which a new set was chosen, by the general votes of all the prisoners.

It was the duty of the President and his twelve counsellors, to make wholesome laws, and define crimes, and award punishments. We made laws and regulations respecting personal behaviour, and personal cleanliness; which last we enforced with particular care; for we had some lazy, lifeless, slack twisted, dirty fellows among us, that required attending to, like children. They were like hogs, whose delight it is to eat, sleep and wallow in the dirt, and never work.—We had, however, but very few of this low cast; and they were, in a great measure, pressed down by some chronical disorder. It was the duty of the President and the twelve committee men, or common council, to define, precisely, every act punishable by fine, whipping, or confinement in the black hole. I opposed, with all my might, this last mode of punishment, as unequal, inhuman, and disgraceful to our national character. I contended that we, who had suffered so much, and complained so loud of the black hole of the Regulus, Malabar, and other floating dungeons, should reject, from an humane principle, this horrid mode of torment. I urged, as a medical man, that the punishment of a confined black hole, was a very unequal mode of punishment; for that some men of weak lungs and debilitated habit, might die under the effects of that which another man could bear without much distress. I maintained that it was wicked, a sin against human nature, to take a well man, put him in a place that should destroy his health, and, very possibly, shorten his days, by engrafting on him some incurable disorder. Some, on the other side, urged, that as we were in the power of the British, we should not be uncivil to them; and that our rejection of the punishment of the black hole might be construed into a reflection on the English government; so we suffered it to remain in terrorem, with a strong recommendation not to have recourse to it but in very extraordinary cases. This dispute plunged me deep into the philosophy of crimes and punishments; and I am convinced, on mature reflection, that we, in America, are as much too mild in our civil punishments, as the British are too severe. May not our extreme lenity in punishing theft and murder, lead, in time, to the adoption of the bloody code of England, with their horrid custom of hanging girls and boys for petty thefts? Is it not a fact, that several convicted murderers have escaped lately with their lives, from a too tender mercy, which is cruelty? By what I have heard, I have inferred, that the Hollanders have drawn a just line between both.

We used to have our stated, as well as occasional courts. Beside a bench of judges, we had our orators, and expounders of our laws. It was amusing and interesting, to see a sailor, in his round short jacket, addressing the committee, or bench of judges, with a phiz as serious, and with lies as specious as any of our common lawyers in Connecticut.—They would argue, turn and twist, evade, retreat, back out, renew the attack, and dispute every inch of the ground, or rather the deck, with an address that astonished me. The surgeon of the ship said to me, one day, after listening to some of our native salt water pleaders, "these countrymen of yours are the most extraordinary men I ever met with. While you have such fellows as these, your country will never lose its liberty." I replied, that this turn for legislation arose from our being all taught to read and write.—"That alone, did not give them," said he, "this acuteness of understanding, and promptness of speech. It arises," said he, with great justness, "from fearless liberty."

I have already mentioned that we had Frenchmen in this prison-ship. Instead of occupying themselves with forming a constitution, and making a code of laws, and defining crimes, and adjusting punishments, and holding courts, and pleading for, and against the person arraigned, these Frenchmen had erected billiard tables, and rowletts, or wheels of fortune, not merely for their own amusement, but to allure the Americans to hazard their money, which these Frenchmen seldom failed to win.

These Frenchmen exhibited a considerable portion of ingenuity, industry and patience, in their little manufactories of bone, of straw, and of hair. They would work incessantly, to get money, by selling these trifling wares; but many of them had a much more expeditious way of acquiring cash, and that was by gaming at the billiard tables and the wheels of fortune. Their skill and address at these, apparent, games of hazard, were far superior to the Americans. They seemed calculated for gamesters; their vivacity, their readiness, and their everlasting professions of friendship, were nicely adapted to inspire confidence in the unsuspecting American Jack-Tar; who has no legerdemain about him. Most of the prisoners were in the way of earning a little money; but almost all of them were deprived of it by the French gamesters. Our people stood no chance with them; but were commonly stripped of every cent, whenever they set out seriously to play with them. How often have I seen a Frenchman capering, and singing, and grinning, in consequence of his stripping one of our sailors of all his money? while our solemn Jack-Tar was either scratching his head, or trying to whistle, or else walking slowly off, with both hands stuck in his pocket, and looking like John Bull, after concluding a treaty of peace with Louis Baboon.

I admire the French, and wish their nation to possess and enjoy peace, liberty and happiness; but I cannot say that I love these French prisoners. Beside common sailors, there are several officers of the rank of captains, lieutenants, and, I believe, midshipmen; and it is these that are the most adroit gamesters. We have all tried hard to respect them; but there is something in their conduct so much like swindling, that I hardly know what to say of them. When they knew that we had received money for the work we had been allowed to perform, they were very attentive, and complaisant, and flattering. Some had been, or pretended to have been, in America. They would come round and say, "ah! Boston fine town, very pretty—Cape Cod fine town, very fine. Town of Rhode Island superb. Bristol-ferry very pretty. General Washington tres grand homme! General Madison brave homme!" With these expressions, and broken English, they would accompany, with their monkey tricks, capering and grinning, and patting us on the shoulder, with "the Americans are brave men—fight like Frenchmen:" and by their insinuating manners, allure our men, once more, to their wheels of fortune and billiard tables; and as sure as they did, so sure did they strip them of all their money. I must either say nothing of these Frenchmen, officers and all; or else I must speak as I found them. I hope they were not a just sample of their whole nation; for these gentry would exercise every imposition, and even insinuate the thing that was not, the more easily to plunder us of our hard earned pittance of small change. Had they shown any generosity, like the British tar, I should have passed over their conduct in silence; but after they had stripped our men of every farthing, they would say to them—"Monsieur, you have won all our money, now lend us a little change to get us some coffee and sugar, and we will pay you when we shall earn more." "Ah, Mon Ami," says Monsieur, shrugging up his shoulders, "I am sorry, very sorry, indeed; it is le fortune du guerre. If you have lost your money, you must win it back again; that is the fashion in my country—we no lend; that is not the fashion." I have observed that these Frenchmen are fatalists. Good luck, or ill luck is all fate with them. So of their national misfortunes; they shrug up their shoulders, and ascribe all to the inevitable decrees of fate. This is very different from the Americans, who ascribe every thing to prudence or imprudence, strength or weakness. Our men say, that if the game was wrestling, playing at ball, or foot-ball, or firing at a mark, or rowing, or running a race, they should be on fair ground with them.—Our fellows offered to institute this game with them; that there should be a strong canvass bag, with two pieces of cord four feet long; and the contest should be, for one man to put the other in the bag, with the liberty of first tying his hands, or his feet, or both if he chose. Here would be a contest of strength and hardihood, but not of cunning or legerdemain. But the Frenchmen all united in saying, "No! No! No! It is not the fashion in our country to tie gentlemen up in sacks."

There were here some Danes, as well as Dutchmen. It is curious to observe their different looks and manners, which I can hardly believe to be owing, entirely, to the manner of bringing up. Here we see the thick skulled plodding Dane, making a wooden dish; or else some of the most ingenious making a very clumsy ship: while others submitted to the dirtiest drudgery of the hulk, for money; and there we see a Dutchman, picking to pieces tarred ropes, which, when reduced to its original form of hemp, they call oakum; or else you see him lazily stowed away in some corner, with his pipe, surrounded with smoke, and "steeping his senses in forgetfulness;" while here and there, and every where, you find a lively singing Frenchman, working in hair; or carving out of a bone, a lady, a monkey, or the central figure of the crucifixion! Among the specimens of American ingenuity, I most admired their ships, which they built from eight inches to five feet long. Some of them were said by the navy officers, to be perfect, as regarded proportion, and exact, as it regarded the miniature representation of a merchantman, sloop of war, frigate, or ship of the line. By the specimens of ingenuity of these people, of different nations, you could discover their respective ruling passions.

Had not the French proved themselves to be a very brave people, I should have doubted it, by what I observed of them on board the prison-ship. They would scold, quarrel and fight, by slapping each other's chops with the flat hand, and cry like so many girls. I have often thought that one of our Yankees, with his iron fist, could, by one blow, send monsieur into his nonentity. Perhaps such a man as Napoleon Bonaparte, could make any nation courageous; but there is some difference between courage and bravery. I have been amused, amid captivity, on observing the volatile Frenchman singing, dancing, fencing, grinning and gambling, while the American tar lifts his hardy front and weather beaten countenance, despising them all, but the dupe of them all; just about as much disposed to squander his money among girls and fiddlers, as the English sailor; but never so in love with it, as to study the arts, tricks and legerdemain to obtain it. I have, at times, wondered that the hard fisted Yankee did not revenge impositions on the skulls of some of these blue-skinned sons of the old continent. Is there not a country, where there is one series or chain of impositions, from the Pope downwards? There is no such thing in the United States. That is a country of laws; and their very sailors are all full of "rights" and "wrongs;" of "justice and injustice;" and of defining crimes, and ascertaining "the butts and bounds" of national and individual rights.

It was a pleasant circumstance, that I could now and then obtain some entertaining books. I had read most of Dean Swift's works, but had never met with his celebrated allegory of John Bull, until I found it on board this prison-ship. I read this little work with more delight than I can express. I had always heard the English nation, including kings, lords, commons, country squires, and merchants, called "John Bull," but I never before knew that the name originated from this piece of wit of Dean Swift's. Now I learnt, for the first time, that the English king, court and nation, taken collectively, were characterized under the name of John Bull; and that of France under the name of Louis Baboon; and that of the Dutch of Nick Frog; and that of Spain under Lord Strut; that the church of England was called John's mother; the parliament his wife; and Scotland his poor, ill-treated, raw-boned, mangy Sister Peg. While I was shaking my sides at the comical characteristical painting of the witty Dean of St. Patrick, the Frenchmen would come around me to know what the book contained, which so much tickled my fancy; they thought it was an obscene book, and wished some one to translate it to them: but all they could get out of me was the words "John Bull and Louis Baboon!"

It is now the 30th of November, a month celebrated to a proverb in England, for its gloominess. We have had a troubled sky and foggy for several weeks past. The pleasant prospect of the surrounding shores has been obscured a great portion of this month. The countenances of our companions partake of our dismal atmosphere. It has even sobered our Frenchmen; they do not sing and caper as usual; nor do they swing their arms about, and talk with strong emphasis of every trifle. The thoughts of home obtrude upon us; and we feel as the poor Jews felt on the banks of the Euphrates, when their task-masters and prison-keepers insisted upon their singing a song. We all hung up our fiddles, as the Jews did their harps, and sat about, here and there, like barn-door fowls, when molting.

Our captivity on the banks of the river Medway, bordered with willows, brought to my mind the plaintive song of the children of Israel, in captivity on the banks of the river Euphrates, which psalm, among others, I used to sing with my mother and sisters, on Sunday evenings, when an innocent boy, and long before the wild notion of rambling, from a comfortable and plentiful home, came into my head. It is the 137th Psalm, Tate and Brady's version.

 
When we our weary limbs to rest
Sat down by proud Euphrates' stream,
We wept, with doleful thoughts opprest,
And Salem was our mournful theme.
 
 
Our harps, that, when with joy we sung,
Were wont their tuneful parts to bear,
With silent strings, neglected hung,
On willow trees, that wither'd there.
 
 
Meanwhile our foes, who all conspir'd
To triumph in our slavish wrongs,
Music and mirth of us requir'd,
"Come, sing us one of Zion's songs."
 
 
How shall we tune our voice to sing?
Or touch our harps with skilful hands?
Shall hymns of joy to God, our King,
Be sung by slaves in foreign lands?
 
 
O, Salem! Our once happy seat,
When I of thee forgetful prove,
Let then my trembling hand forget
The speaking strings with art to move!
 
 
If I, to mention thee, forbear,
Eternal silence seize my tongue!
Or if I sing one cheerful air,
Till my deliv'rance is my song.
 

CHAPTER IV

I come now to a delicate subject; and shall speak accordingly, with due caution; I mean the character and conduct of Mr. Beasly, the American Agent for prisoners. He resides in the city of London, thirty-two miles from this place. There have been loud and constant complaints made of his conduct towards his countrymen, suffering confinement at three thousand miles distance from all they hold most dear and valuable; and he but half a day's journey from us. Mr. Beasly knew that there were some thousands of his countrymen imprisoned in a foreign land for no crime; but for defending, and fighting under the American flag, that emblem of national independence, and sovereignty; if he reflected at all, he must have known these countrymen of his were, in general, thinking men; men who had homes, and "fire places."⁴ He knew they had, some of them, fathers and mothers, wives and children, brothers and sisters, in the United States, who lived in houses that had "fire places," and that they had, in general, been brought up in more ease and plenty than the same class in England; he knew they were a people of strong affections to their relatives, and strong attachments to their country; and he might have supposed that some of them had as good an education as himself; he must, or ought to have thought constantly that they were suffering imprisonment, deprivations and occasionally sickness in a foreign country, where he is specially commissioned, and placed to attend to their comforts, relieve, if practicable their wants, and to be the channel of communication between them and their families. The British commander, or commodore of all the prison ships in this river visited them all once a month; and paid good attention to all their wants.

When we first arrived here, we wrote in a respectful style to Mr. Beasly, as the Agent from our government for the prisoners in England. We glanced at our sufferings at Halifax; and stated our extreme sufferings on the passage to England, and until we arrived in the river Medway. We remarked that we expected that the government of the United States intended to treat her citizens in captivity in a foreign land all equally alike. We represented to him that we were, in general, destitute of clothing, and many conveniences, that a trifling sum of money would obtain; that we did not doubt the good will, and honorable intentions of our government; and that he doubtless knew of their kind intentions towards us all.—But he never returned a word of answer. We found that all those prisoners, who had been confined here at Chatham, from the commencement of the war, bore Mr. Beasly an inveterate hatred. They accuse him of an unfeeling neglect, and disregard to their pressing wants. They say he never visited them but once; and that then his conduct gave more disgust, than his visit gave pleasure. "Where there is much smoke there must be some fire." The account they gave is this—that when he came on board, he seemed fearful that they would come too near him; he therefore requested that additional sentries might be placed on the gangways, to keep the prisoners from coming aft, on the quarter deck. He then sent for one of their number, said a few words to him relative to the prisoners; but not a word of information in answer to the questions repeatedly put to him; and of which we were all very anxious to hear. He acted as if he was afraid that any questions should be put to him; so that without waiting to hear a single complaint, and without waiting to examine into any thing respecting their situation, their health, or their wants, he hastily took his departure, amidst the hooting and hisses of his countrymen, as he passed over the side of the ship.

Written representations of the neglect of this (nominal) agent for us prisoners, were made to the government of the United States, which we sent by different conveyances; but whether they ever reached the person of the Secretary of State, we never knew. Several individuals among the prisoners wrote to Mr. Beasly for information on subjects in which their comfort and happiness were concerned, but received no answer. Once, indeed, a letter was received from his clerk, in an imperious style, announcing that no notice would be taken of any letters from individuals; (which was probably correct) but those only that were written by the committee collectively. The committee accordingly wrote; but their letter was treated with the same silent neglect. This desertion of his countrymen, in their utmost need, excited an universal expression of disgust, if not resentment. Cut off from their own country, surrounded only by enemies, swindled by their neighbors, winter coming on, and no clothing proper for the approaching season, and the American agent for themselves and other prisoners, within three or four hours journey, and yet abandoned by him to the tender mercies of our declared enemies, it is no wonder that our prisoners detested, at length, the name of Beasly. We made every possible allowance for this gentleman; we said to each other, he may have no funds; he may have the will, but not the power to help us; his commission, and his directions may not extend so high as our expectations; still we could make no excuse for his not visiting us, and enquiring, and seeing for himself our real situation. He might have answered our letters; and encouraged us not to despair, but to hope for relief; he might have visited us as often as did the English Commodore, which was once in four weeks; but he should not have insulted our feelings, the only time he did visit us, and humble and mortify us in the view of the Frenchmen, who saw, and remarked that our agent considered us no more than so many hogs. The Emperor Napoleon has visited some of his hospitals in cog. has viewed the situation of the sick and wounded; examined their food, and eaten of their bread; and once threw a cup of wine in the face of a steward, because he thought it not good enough for the soldier; but—some of our agents are men of more consequence, in their own eyes, than Napoleon!

During the war it was stated to our government that six thousand two hundred and fifty-seven seamen had been pressed and forcibly detained on board British ships of war.—Events have proved the correctness of this statement; and this slavery has been a subject of merriment, and a theme for ridicule among the "federalists." They say it makes no more difference to a sailor what ship he is on board, than it does to a hog what stye he is in. Others not quite so brutal, have said—"hush! it may be so; but we must bear it; England is mistress of the Ocean; and her existence depends on this practice of impressment; her naval power must be submitted to—give us, merchants, commerce, and these Jack Tars will take care of themselves; for it is not worth while to lose a profitable trade for the sake of a few ignorant sailors, who never had any rights; and who have neither liberty, property or homes, but what we merchants give to them."

The American Seamen on board the Crown Prince, were chiefly men who had been impressed into the British Navy previous to the war; but who, on hearing of the Declaration of War against Great Britain by the people of the United States, gave themselves up as prisoners of war; but instead of being directly exchanged, the English Government thought it proper to send them on board these prison ships to be retained there during the war; evidently to prevent them from entering into our own navy. It should be remembered that they were all citizens of the United States, sailing in merchant ships; and yet the merchants, at least those of Boston, and the other New-England sea-ports, have, very generally, mocked the complaints of impressed seamen, and derided their representations, and have even denied the story of their impressment. Even the Governor of Massachusetts (Strong) has affected in his public speeches to the Legislature to represent this crying outrage, as the mere groundless clamor of a party opposed to his election? Whether groundless or not, I will venture to assert, that the names of many of the leading federalists in Massachusetts, and a few others will never be forgotten by the inhabitants of the prison ships at Chatham, at Halifax, and in the West Indies.

We are now at peace, and the tide of party has so far slackened, that we can tell the truth without the suspicion of political, or party designs. I shall relate only what I have collected from the men themselves, who were never in the way of reading our newspapers, or of hearing of the speeches of the friends of the British in Congress; or in our State Legislatures. I think I ought, however, here to premise, that my family were of that party in Massachusetts called Federal, that is, we voted for Governor Strong, and federal Senators and Representatives; our clergyman was also federal, and preached and prayed federally; and we read none but federal newspapers, and associated with none but federalists; of course we believed all that Governor Strong said, and approved all that our Senators and Representatives voted, and believed all that was printed in the Boston federal papers. The whole family, and myself with them, believed all that Colonel Timothy Pickering had written about impressment of seamen, and about the weakness, and wickedness of the President and administration; we believed them all to be under the pay and influence of Bonaparte, who we knew was the first Lieutenant of Satan. We believed all that was said about "Free trade and sailors' rights," was all stuff and nonsense, brought forward by the Republicans, whom we called Democrats and Jacobins, to gull the people out of their liberty and property, in order to surrender both to the Tyrant of France. We believed entirely that the war was "unnecessary" and "wicked," and declared with no other design but to injure England and gratify France. We believed also that the whole of the administration, and every man of the Republican party, from Jefferson and Madison, down to our – was either fool or knave. If we did not believe that every republican was a scoundrel, we were sure and certain that every scoundrel was a republican. In some points our belief was as strong and as fixed as any in the papal dominions; for example—we maintained stiffly that Governor Strong, Lieut. Governor Phillips, H. G. Otis, and John Lowell and Francis Blake, Esqrs. were, for talents, knowledge, piety and virtue, the very first men in the United States, and ought to be at the head of the nation: or—to express it all in one word, as my sister once did, "Federalism is the politics of a gentleman, and of a lady; but Republicanism is the low cant of the vulgar; of such men as your Tom Jeffersons, Jim Madisons, and John Adams', and Col. Monroes."

With these expanded and enlightened ideas of men and things, did I, Perigrinus Americanus, quit my father's house ease and plenty, to make a short trip in a Privateer, more for a frolic than for any thing serious, being very little concerned whether I was taken or not, provided my capture would be the means of carrying me among the people whom I had long adored for their superior bravery, magnanimity, religion, knowledge, and justice; which opinions I had imbibed from their own writers, in verse and prose. Beside the federal newspapers, I had dipped into the posthumous works of Fisher Ames, enough to inspire me with adoration of England, abhorrence of France, and a contempt for my own country; or to express all in a fewer words, I was a Federalist of the Boston stamp. These are the outlines of my preconceived opinions, which I carried with me into Melville Prison, at Halifax. I was not the only one by many, who entered that abode of misery with similar notions. How often have I wished that Governor Strong, and his principal supporters, were here with us, learning wisdom, and acquiring just notions of men, things and governments.

But to return from the Governor and Council, and other great men of Massachusetts, to the British prison ship at Chatham.—The British had been in the habit of pressing the sailors from our merchant ships, ever since the year 1755. The practice was always abhorred, and often resisted, and sometimes even unto death. We naturally inferred that, with our independence, we should preserve the persons of our citizens from violence and deep disgrace; for, to an American, a whipping is a degradation worse than death.—Since the termination of the war with England, which guaranteed our independence, the British never pretended to impress American citizens; but pretended to the right of entering our vessels, and taking from them the natives of Britain or Ireland, and this was their general rule of conduct;—they would forcibly board our vessels, and the boarding-officer, who was commonly a lieutenant, completely armed with sword, dirk, and loaded pistols, would muster the crew, and examine the persons of the sailors, as a planter examines a lot of negroes exposed for sale; and all the thin, puny, or sickly men, he allowed to be Americans—but all the stout, hearty, red cheeked, iron fisted, chestnut colored, crispy haired fellows, were declared to be British; and if such men showed their certificates of citizenship, and place of birth, they were pronounced forgeries, and the unfortunate men were dragged over the side into the boat, and forced on board his floating hell! Not a day in the year, but there occurred such a scene as this, somewhere on the seas; and to our shame be it spoken, we endured this outrage on man through the administration of Washington, Adams,⁵ and Jefferson, before we declared war to revenge the villany. If an high spirited man, thus kidnap'd, refused to work, he was first deprived of victuals; and if starvation did not induce him to work, he was stripped, and tied up, and whipped like a thief!—and many a noble spirited fellow suffered this accursed punishment. If he seized the first opportunity, as he ought, to run away from his tyrants, and was taken, he was severely whipped; and for a second attempt the punishment was doubled, and for the third he was hanged, or shot.

It happened on our declaration of war, chiefly on account of this atrocious treatment of the sailors, that thousands of our countrymen had been impressed into the British navy, and more or less were found in almost every ship; most of these informed their respective captains, that being American citizens, they could not remain in the service of a nation, to aid them in killing their brethren; and in pulling down the flag of their native country. They declared firmly, that it was fighting against nature for a man to fight against his native land, the only land to which he owed a natural duty. Some noble British commanders admired their patriotic spirit, and permitted them to quit their ships, and go to prison: while other captains, of an opposite and ignoble character, refused to hear their declarations, and ordered them to return to what they called their duty; which they accompanied with threats of severe punishment if they disobeyed. But some, whose noble spirits would have honored any man, or station, adhered to their first determination, not to fight against their own brothers; or aid in pulling down the flag of their nation. These were immediately put in irons, and fed on scanty allowance of bread and water; for if any thing can bring down the high spirit of an hearty young man, it is the slow torture of hunger and thirst; when it was found that this had not the effect of debasing the American spirit, the young sufferer was brought upon deck, and stripped to his waist, and sometimes lower, and—Oh! my pen cannot write it for indignation! resentment, and a righteous revenge shakes my hand with rage, while I attempt to record the act of villany. Yes, my countrymen and my countrywomen, our noble minded young men, brought up in more ease and plenty than half the officers of a British man of war, are violently stripped, and tied fast and immoveable by a rope, to a cannon, or to the iron railing of what is called the gang-way, and when he is so fixed as to stretch the skin and muscles to the utmost, he is whipped by a long, heavy and hard knotted whip, four times more formidable and heavy than the whip allowed to be used by the carters, truck, or carmen, on their horses. With this heavy and knotted scourge, the boatswain's mate, who is generally selected for his strength, after stripping off his jacket, that he may strike the harder, lashes this young man, on his delicate skin, until his back is cut from his shoulders to his waist! Few men, of ordinary feelings of humanity, could bear to see, without great emotion, even a thief, or a robber, so severely punished. But what must be the feelings of an American, to see such a cruel operation upon the body of his countryman, of his mess-mate and companion? We will venture to say, that if a dog, or an horse, were tied fast to a post, in any street of any town in America, and lashed with such an heavy knotted whip, swung by the strong arm of a vigorous man, although their skins were covered and defended by their hair, or fur, we do not believe that the inhabitants would see it inflicted on the poor beast, without carrying the whipper before a magistrate, to answer for his cruelty. Yet what is the whipping of a beast, devoid of reason, and covered with fur, to this severe operation upon the delicate skin and flesh of one of our young men? And all, for what? For nobly maintaining and upholding the first and great principle of our nature. Yet has this heroism of our enslaved seamen been overlooked; and even derided by the federal merchant and the federal politician, and the federal member of congress, and the federal clergyman! Some of our brave fellows have been brought upon deck, every punishing day, and undergone this horrid punishment, three or four times over, until the crews of the men of war were disposed to cry out shame, upon their own officers! Some of our poor fellows could not sustain these repeated tortures, which is not to be wondered at, and have finally gone to work as soon as they recovered from their barbarous usage. Others, of firmer frames and firmer minds, have wearied out their persecutors, whose infernal dispositions they have defied, and triumphed over; such have been sent out of the ship into our prison-ships; and here they are, to tell their own story, to show to their countrymen the everlasting marks of their tormentors, the British navy officers. With what indignation, rage and horror, have I seen our brave fellows actuated, while one of these heroes of national rights, and national character, has been relating his sufferings, and showing his degrading scars, made on his body by the accursed whip of a boatswain's mate, by order of an infamous captain of the British navy! You talk of peace, friendship and cordiality with the nation from whom most of us sprang! It is well, perhaps, that the two nations should be at peace politically; but can you ever expect cordiality to subsist between our impressed and cruelly treated sailor, and a British navy officer. It is next to impossible. Our ill treated sailor, lacerated in his flesh, wounded in his honor, and debased by the slavish hand of a boatswain's mate, never can forget the barbarians; nor ever can, nor ever ought to forgive them. The God of nature has ordained that nations should be separated by a difference of language, religion, customs, and manners, for wise purposes; but where two great nations, like the English and American, have the same language, institutions and manners, he may possibly have allowed the devil to inspire one with a portion of his own infernal spirit of cruelty, in order to effect a separation, and keep apart two people, superficially resembling each other.