20
loathing and in March of 1815 was hanged in effigy by the American inmates of Dartmoor. A few weeks after this incident, the British warders discovered a small hole had been cut in the inner wall leading not to the outside and the moor, but to the noman’s land between the interior and exterior walls. Clearly not yet an escape attempt, nonetheless, the frustrated British troops fired into the unarmed prisoners, killing seven and wounding thirty-one. This tragedy convinced the British government that they could no longer wait for Mr. Beasley and the American government to arrange transportation, and it allowed any prisoner who could get by on his own to leave. Others would be sent back to America at joint British/American expense, and ships were provided quickly for that purpose. By the end of June, all but 900 prisoners had been repatriated. Roughly half of those remaining were black and would not accept transportation back to the United States if the ship were heading to a southern port; they were rightfully fearful of being sold into slavery, though all were free men. Guaranteed delivery to a northern port, often Boston, the prison population dwindled to nothing and the prison, a drain on the government coffers, was closed. Languishing in the hostile environment of Dartmoor, the prison fell into considerable disrepair in the years after the war, but necessity forced its reconstitution
and it opened again for “customers” in 1851. This time, the inhabitants were civilians convicted of serious and often violent crimes, who were deemed too dangerous for incarceration in the more conventional prisons in London and elsewhere. Society later modified its stance on these criminals, and, once again, in 1917, the prison on Dartmoor was closed. This time it was not abandoned but instead converted to a “Home Office Work Center” for conscientious objectors during the First World War who were granted release from other prisons. Cells remained unlocked, occupants wore their own clothes, and when given a day of rest, they were free to visit the town of Princetown nearby. Once World War I ended, so did the need for a “home” for the conscientious objectors, and, in 1920, Dartmoor once again became a prison for serious offenders. Civilian guards had long since replaced the Royal Navy warders and their number was increased to deal with the real criminals under their charge. But even the well-armed prison staff could not always maintain the peace. The so-called “Dartmoor Mutiny” occurred in January 1932 when, as a protest regarding horrible food, fifty prisoners at the daily parade (it was not a “parade” as such, merely a formation in the yard where instructions were given and a head count taken) refused orders, threatening the guards. The other prisoners were marched Dartmoor inmates on a work detail exiting the prison gates (early 1900s).
courtesy project gutenberg
get themselves either killed by another prisoner or shot by a warder. It was deemed inappropriate to bury them in the French cemetery, so a new cemetery was established adjacent to the original one. Drawing burial duty was considered a plum assignment, as the cemeteries were outside the outer walls and offered not only a glimpse of freedom, but to the more daring—or foolhardy—a chance to grab it. Working on the forced-labor farm, also outside the walls, provided yet another route to freedom for those willing to risk being run down by a guard on horseback and quite possibly shot. Others attempted escape in the more traditional manner, digging tunnels (always discovered by the British), sewing homemade guard uniforms and trying to slip away during a change of the watch (one fellow actually succeeded, only to be recaptured following a house-to-house search in Plymouth, some sixteen miles distant). Somehow, that prisoner did not survive his return trip to Dartmoor. Others caught in the attempt to escape were confined to the “cachot,” a special granite holding cell large enough for sixty prisoners. It had no amenities save some straw on the floor and two narrow openings under the eaves to let in a paucity of light. Rations for its inhabitants were two-thirds of normal, and terms ranged from weeks to, in one case, six months. Following the conclusion of the War of 1812 in early 1815, the use of the cachot was deemed unnecessary—the prisoners were awaiting repatriation—and conditions within the general population improved somewhat. That said, repatriation did not happen as quickly as either the prisoners or the warders expected; both governments had to ratify the treaty, and the physical transfer of the actual document from Ghent to New York and thence to Washington, took some three months. Added to that, there were geographically driven dates when cessation of hostilities would occur. The hopeful but suffering prisoners languished in Dartmoor and on the hulks in England and on Melville Island, Nova Scotia. The American Agent for Prisoners in England, a Mr. Beasley, long disliked by the prisoners for whom he was supposed to care, seemed in no hurry to effect exchanges or arrange for transportation home for his charges. He quickly became an object of
SEA HISTORY 165, WINTER 2018–19