American Prisoners of the Revolution

In Short

This volume serves as a somber, meticulously gathered archive concerning the treatment of American prisoners during the Revolutionary War. Through a combination of eyewitness narratives, contemporary diary entries, and official accounts, the text details the widespread misery inflicted upon soldiers and sailors held in New York’s jails and the infamous British prison ships. By consolidating accounts from survivors like Captain Dring and Ebenezer Fox, the author preserves the voices of men who endured starvation, disease, and psychological torment. The work endures as a vital act of remembrance, ensuring that the heavy cost paid by thousands of forgotten captives is not lost to the passage of time.

The Story

The narrative begins with the harsh reality of capture. Following early defeats like the fall of Fort Washington, thousands of American soldiers found themselves stripped of their weapons and their liberty. The story arc is defined not by a single protagonist, but by the collective experience of these men, whose journey typically led from the battlefield to the crowded, disease-ridden confines of New York City’s churches, sugar houses, and eventually, the hulking, rotting prison ships anchored in the harbor.

The central tragedy of the account is the deliberate indifference of the British authorities. The text paints a grim portrait of life in places like the Jersey, a vessel described by survivors as a "prison hell." Here, the arc of the prisoners’ experience is a descent into physical degradation. Starvation was routine; captives were reduced to eating rats, insects, or the moldy, worm-infested bread that served as their only rations. Many arrived already weakened by dysentery or wounds, only to be crowded into dark, unventilated holds where sickness spread with terrifying speed.

As the years of the war dragged on, the story tracks the persistent, futile attempts at exchange. The correspondence between American officials and British commissioners, such as David Sproat, reveals a cold bureaucracy. The British often dismissed appeals for humane treatment, even as the death toll mounted into the thousands. Throughout this, the prisoners maintained a stubborn, sometimes suicidal, patriotism. Despite promises of food, freedom, and pay if they would defect to the British service, the vast majority chose the slow annihilation of the prison ships over the betrayal of their country.

The ending of the captives' journey was rarely a triumphant return. For many, it was the "death barge" that carried their bodies to be buried in shallow, shifting sands along the shore of the Wallabout Bay. For the few who survived, the return home was often marked by permanent physical ruin and the lasting trauma of their confinement. The narrative concludes with the post-war efforts to gather the bleached, scattered bones of these martyrs, reflecting on the long-delayed duty of a nation to recognize those who died not in the glory of battle, but in the anonymity of the prison hold.

How It Unfolds

The gathering of testimony The author initiates the work by acknowledging the scarcity of records and the necessity of preserving fragmented accounts. She systematically collects journals and letters from survivors to build a mosaic of the wartime prison experience.

The descent into confinement The focus shifts to the immediate aftermath of capture, detailing how soldiers and sailors were processed into New York’s various makeshift prisons. The reader encounters the logistical nightmare of housing thousands of men in spaces never intended for human habitation.

The life on the prison ships The narrative centers on the Jersey and other hulks, highlighting the daily rituals of survival. These chapters explore the relentless struggle against hunger, filth, and the psychological weight of indefinite captivity.

The bureaucratic indifference The text examines the failed negotiations for prisoner exchanges between Continental leaders and British officials. This section underscores the stark disconnect between the high-level politics of the Revolution and the suffering on the decks below.

The legacy of the martyrs The final movement turns to the post-war period and the discovery of remains along the Brooklyn waterfront. It captures the long, slow process of public recognition and the eventual construction of monuments to honor the dead.

The People

The book is populated by the suffering and the stoic. Jonathan Gillett serves as a representative figure, a man whose physical deterioration after years of imprisonment illustrates the lasting impact of his ordeal. His story is tied to John Archer, a Masonic brother whose small acts of mercy provided the only reprieve from the harsh conditions of the city.

William Cunningham, the British Provost Marshal, emerges as the primary antagonist. He is characterized by a singular, sadistic cruelty, representing the systemic malice faced by the prisoners. His name serves as a shorthand for the worst aspects of the prison system, contrasting sharply with the charitable citizens mentioned, such as Mrs. Deborah Franklin and Mrs. Ann Mott, who risked their own safety to bring food and relief to the starving.

Daniel Bedinger represents the youth of the war; his story of running away to join the army, only to have his health permanently broken by his time in prison, highlights the heavy toll on the country’s young generation. Captain Dring and Ebenezer Fox function as the primary chroniclers of the prison ships. Their memoirs provide the essential, granular detail that grounds the book's larger claims, serving as the moral anchors of the text. Finally, General George Washington appears in the correspondence, not as a remote commander, but as a leader burdened by the agonizing reality that he could not always ransom or exchange his men without sacrificing the wider strategic interests of the war.

In Its Own Voice

The author clarifies her mission to recover these lost accounts and preserve their original intensity:

The original narratives are all out of print, very scarce and hard to obtain, and the writer feels justified in reprinting them in this collection, for the sake of the general reader interested in the subject.

One survivor describes the wretched, vermin-filled existence forced upon them by their captors:

To catch them was a very easy task, but to undertake to deprive each individual captive of life, as rapidly as they could have been taken, would have been a more herculean task for each individual daily, than the destruction of 3000 Philistines by Sampson of old.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that the history of the American Revolution is incomplete without reckoning with the massive, often ignored sacrifice of those held in captivity. The book posits that the British treatment of prisoners was not merely a byproduct of war, but a calculated, inhumane policy that resulted in the deaths of thousands. Beneath the plot lies a deep preoccupation with the nature of patriotism and the ethical limits of military leadership. It asks: what do the living owe to those who died in silence? The book is an argument for memory as a civic duty, suggesting that ignoring these "foul pages" of history diminishes the understanding of the price of independence. By documenting the dehumanization of the captives, the author forces the reader to confront the brutal, unglamorous underbelly of a nation’s birth.

Why Read It Today

This book is essential for readers who prefer their history unvarnished. It does not offer a sanitized, triumphant march toward liberty; instead, it provides a grueling, intimate look at the cost of the Revolution for the common soldier. You will find it a challenging read, not only for the visceral descriptions of starvation and disease, but for the stark lists of names that fill many pages—a repetitive, sobering reminder of the scale of the loss.

The prose is straightforward, relying heavily on the voices of those who were there, which gives the book an authentic, sometimes jagged, texture. Because it was written in the early 20th century, it reflects the values and the patriotic fervor of that era, which some modern readers may find dated. The long, lists of names and the inclusion of dense, primary-source letters can make for a slow pace. However, it is precisely this lack of "literary" polish that makes the book powerful. It feels less like a historical narrative and more like a collection of gravestones. You will walk away with a haunting sense of the fragility of the individuals caught in the machinery of empire, and a profound respect for the thousands of men whose names are now preserved only because of this labor of research. It is a work for anyone interested in how a nation constructs its memory and what it chooses to leave behind in the dark.