Devonshire Characters and Strange Events

John G. Gatchell, prisoner. “I heard an order to fire, but don’t know by whom; the first volley one man fell. I went to him; he said he was wounded in the breast. I called assistance, and was trying to get him to the receiving-house, when Captain Shortland entered No. 7 gate with two soldiers, and said something which induced the two others to run away and leave the wounded man with me; upon which Captain Shortland, seeing I did not run, said, ‘Kill the d – d rascal!’ The soldiers charged on me, and a bayonet pierced my clothes and skin, going in about a quarter of an inch. I was then forced to leave the wounded man and run, when a soldier followed me, and Capt. Shortland, urging him on, repeated several times, ‘Kill the d – d rascal!’ While running on I was pricked three times, and would have been killed, but stepping aside the bayonet ran under my arm, and the soldier with the force of the thrust fell on his knees, by which means I escaped into the prison. While getting in No. 7 I saw Captain Shortland running down the yard towards No. 5 with the soldiers, and heard him order them to fire. He was facing me at the time; was running towards No. 5, and ordering them to fire as they ran, which they did. I did not see that the soldiers hesitated to fire when ordered; they did fire… Two soldiers came into the gate abreast of Capt. Shortland, but many followed him, thirty or forty perhaps. After the soldiers were in the yard those on the ramparts did not fire… While the prisoners were running to No. 7 they were cut off by a cross-fire from the ramparts.”

Andrew Davis, prisoner. “I went up to No. 1 gate; when I got there, five or six men were bringing a man, who appeared to be badly wounded, into the Market Square. I heard Capt. Shortland order them to let go the wounded man; one of them (this was John Hubbard) remonstrated against it, and Capt. Shortland struck him with his fist. The man then went outside of the gate into the passage, between the two gates, and said to Capt. Shortland, ‘You’ll recollect you have struck me twice; and I’ll have satisfaction for it?’ Captain Shortland told him to go into the prison, or he would order the men to fire on him.”

John Odiorne, prisoner, had given evidence before the coroner. He repeated now: “I heard an order to fire, which was from Capt. Shortland as near as I could judge of any man, who had his back to me; it was Captain Shortland’s voice; he was about 100 yards from me. I am as positive as I can be under such circumstances that the order came from him. Captain Shortland appeared to be in a great passion. When entering the square he looked very red, and spoke loud; am confident there was no disposition to break out.”

Gerard Smith, prisoner, gave no material evidence.

Robert Johnson, prisoner. “I know Gatchell; I was at the gate No. 7 when Captain Shortland spoke to him. I ran directly into the gate from No. 5; at the first firing a wounded man lay about five yards from the gate. Gatchell and two or three others came up to take him away to the receiving-house. When he got into the passage, between the railings, Captain Shortland came in with two or three soldiers, and told him to go back or he would kill them; the soldiers followed. In rushing in, Capt. Shortland stumbled over the wounded man; Gatchell did not go away immediately. Capt. Shortland ordered the soldiers to charge on him; one did charge on him, and another on me. I then made my escape into the prison. I am quite sure Captain Shortland ordered the soldiers to charge. I heard no abusive language from Capt. Shortland.”

James N. Bushfield, prisoner, testified mainly to the making the hole in the wall. “I do not suppose a man in the yard knew there was arms in the barrack yard.”

William Clements, prisoner. “I heard no order to fire… I saw Capt. Shortland in the yard, but whether it was him or the other officer who first came in I don’t know.”

John Hubbard, prisoner. “I was carrying a wounded man to the hospital. Capt. Shortland came up to me … he ordered me to drop the man. I told him I should not, for I wanted to take him to the hospital. He gave me a crack on the neck with his fist and ordered the soldiers to charge on us; I then went back and ran in. When I got in I called to Capt. Shortland and told him ‘You will recollect, Sir, you struck me, if you are brought to account for this.’”

John Reeves, prisoner. His evidence is not particularly trustworthy, as he admitted, “I was rather groggy that evening… I heard Captain Shortland sing out ‘Fire!’ twice… After we were inside No. 1 prison, being mad at being pricked (with a bayonet) I flung a stone myself out at the soldiers. The soldiers had fired into the prison before I did so.”

William Mitchell, prisoner, did not hear the horn or the alarm bell.

David Spencer Warren, prisoner, who had given evidence before the coroner, now added: “I was within seven or eight feet of Captain Shortland when I heard him give orders to fire. I was inside my own prison yard and Capt. Shortland was close to the gate; that was the first firing I heard; there had been none before. Soldiers had broken up their line when Captain Shortland led them into the prison yard. Captain Shortland was at the head of them, when I heard him tell the men to fire. They did not fire the first time he said ‘Fire!’; it was about a minute afterwards before they fired. He said ‘Fire!’ three times.” He repeated his story of Shortland taking hold of the musket.

Richard Walker, private of the Derby Militia. “I heard no order to fire; first one musket was fired; it was by a sentry posted at the bottom of the square, in consequence of the prisoners abusing him. I saw this. I saw them throw no stones before, but after it was fired they did. It might be two minutes before there was firing again. As soon as the prisoners threw stones there was more firing. Don’t recollect I heard any order to fire. Heard several call out ‘Fire!’ and supposed it might be the prisoners who were calling out… Saw Capt. Shortland come down, break through the guard, and heard him order them to cease firing.”

William Ward, private in the Derby Militia. “I came up just after (the firing had begun). Capt. Shortland, after it had continued some time, came up and ordered the soldiers to cease firing. They immediately ceased.”

Some turnkeys were examined, but their evidence was immaterial, as they were employed elsewhere or in taking the wounded to the hospital, except James Carley, who was with the bread-wagon; but he could say no more than that he saw Shortland come down “with his hands in his breeches’ pockets”; and William Wakelin, who deposed to Shortland pushing one of the prisoners (James Reeves).

John Bennett, store clerk. “I heard Captain Shortland tell the prisoners in the market-place to go back to their different prisons, and say how sorry he should be to use force… Some minutes after a musket went off, and soon after many others. I was then so near Capt. Shortland that I am sure I should have heard it had he given the orders to fire; but I did not, nor did I hear an order from anybody. I did not see the charge.”

John Collard, sergeant of the 1st Somerset Militia, heard Shortland give the order to charge. “An order was then given to fire on them (the prisoners); I heard the word given to fire by some one; I think the word given was in my rear… The prisoners were crying out ‘Fire!’ I could not then see Captain Shortland. I did not look out for him. I had something else to think of when the order to fire was given. Two or three men fired; immediately they obeyed the order; one musket was discharged first, and one or two very soon after… I think the soldiers fired over their heads; then some prisoner or prisoners said, ‘You – why don’t you fire? You have nothing but blank cartridges.’ Afterwards the firing became general, and the prisoners were driven into the yard. I heard no word of command for the second firing; the firing was not in a volley, but in small numbers at a time… I know nothing of what happened afterwards in the prison yard.”

Stephen Lapthorn, private in the 1st Somersetshire Militia. “I heard an order given to fire, but don’t know who gave it. I can’t say whose voice it was; am not sure whether it was from the prisoners or the military… I heard Major Joliffe give orders to cease firing.”

John Soathern, private in the Derby Militia. “We went close to the railings; my bayonet pricked them; when we got there, the prisoners began throwing stones; one stone struck me. Just then the firing commenced. After some time Capt. Shortland came in front and said, holding his hands up, ‘For God’s sake, men, cease firing.’ Captain Shortland was not near me when it commenced. The order to fire was given on the left, and it passed through the ranks one after another.”

Lieutenant Avelyne, of 1st Somerset Militia. “When I came into the Market Square with Captain Shortland the prisoners had burst No. 1 gate and were rushing through in a crowd… Capt. Shortland went forward to speak to them… The soldiers did not charge by my order, nor did I hear Capt. Shortland order it. I considered myself under Capt. Shortland’s orders… I heard the first musket fired. I could not see where it was fired from… There was at first a single shot, and almost instantly after several others were fired. I heard no distinct order to fire… I did not go into the prison yard.”

Lieutenant Fortye, of 1st Somerset Militia. “My guard took up the firing from others without any orders.”

Cornelius Rowe, prisoner. “I saw the military come down the square and heard Capt. Shortland order them to charge.”

Thomas Tindale, prisoner. “I heard Captain Shortland give orders to fire … he gave orders twice to fire. I was not ten steps from him when I heard him. I heard every word he said; I saw him plainly; the firing commenced by one musket first, then two, and afterwards a whole volley. The firing began when Captain Shortland gave the word the second time. I heard him tell the soldiers to fire low. He was then standing inside the muzzles of the foremost muskets. When I heard the order to fire I was about the middle of gate No. 4; the soldiers charged up to the railings and then fell back four or five paces, when Capt. Shortland gave the order to fire.”

The evidence of Captain Shortland has been already given. He denied the truth of Gatchell’s statements that he had run down the yard; and as to that of Hubbard, he would only admit that he had pushed, not struck him.

In reviewing the depositions it appears evident that the American witnesses were hostile to the Governor, and that their bitterness of feeling coloured their testimony. There is evidence that Captain Shortland entered the inner yard, though he denied it; but that Major Joliffe was there is certain, and it cannot be admitted that he acted with the promptitude that he should have displayed. It is certain that by this time the soldiers had got out of control, and it was no doubt difficult to restrain them.

Captain Shortland was not really a brutal Governor, and the barbarities of which he was accused were not barbarities at all, but the exercise of very necessary discipline. But he was lacking in capacity for such a responsible post, at such a time.

So the British Government must have considered him, for he was promoted to be Superintendent of Port Royal Dockyard in Jamaica, where he died of yellow fever in 1825.

The most thoroughly reliable authority for the “massacre” is the “Message from the President of the United States, transmitting a Report of the Secretary of State, prepared in obedience to a Resolution of the House of Representatives of the 4th inst., in relation to the Transactions at Dartmoor Prison, in the month of April last, so far as the American Prisoners of war, there confined, were affected by such Transactions,” January 31, 1816, “Read and ordered to lie upon the table,” Washington, 1816. Next come “The Prisoners’ Memoirs, or Dartmoor Prison; containing a Complete and Impartial History of the entire captivity of the Americans in England, from the commencement of the late War between the United States and Great Britain, until all Prisoners were released by the treaty of Ghent. Also a particular detail of all the occurrences relative to that Horrid Massacre at Dartmoor, on the fatal evening of the 6th April, 1815. The whole carefully compiled from the Journal of Charles Andrews, a Prisoner in England from the commencement of the War, until the release of all the Prisoners.” New York, 1815.

According to him 269 American prisoners died on Dartmoor between April, 1813, and 20 April, 1815, and twenty-one succeeded in making their escape.

Waterhouse (Henry), Journal of a Young Man of Massachusetts, confined at Dartmoor Prison. Boston, 1816.

He arrived at the Dartmoor Prison but a short while before the outbreak. His account confirms that of Andrews. He gives the Remonstrance of the prisoners on the hasty and hardly impartial manner in which the Commissioners investigated the circumstances.

The Dartmoor Massacre, by I. H. W. (Isaac H. Williamson, of New Jersey), 1815. This is, however, a mere rhymed account, based on the narrative in the Boston papers and the New York Commercial Advertiser of 6 June, 1815. “Being the Authentic and Particular Account of the tragic Massacre at Dartmoor Prison in England, on the 6th April last (1815), in which sixty-seven American sailors, prisoners there, fell the victims to the jailor’s revenge, for obtaining their due allowance of bread which had been withheld from them by the jailor’s orders.”

Melish (John), Description of Dartmoor Prison. Philadelphia, 1815.

He confirms the account of Andrews, and insists that the examination was not properly and honestly carried out; and he asserts positively that Capt. Shortland gave the order to fire.

Justin Winsor, in his Narrative and Critical History of America, has treated of the matter in a temperate spirit.

I subjoin the names of those killed and those wounded.

KILLED: John Haywood, Thomas Jackson, John Washington, James Mann, Joseph Toker Johnson, William Leverage, and James Campbell.

WOUNDED: Thomas Smith, needed amputation of the thigh. Philip Ford, severely wounded in the back. John Gray, arm had to be amputated. Robert Willet Tawney, required to have the thigh amputated. James Bell, bayonet wound in the thigh. Thomas Truely, gun-shot wound in thigh and other serious injury. Joseph Beyeck, gun-shot wound in the thigh, through which the ball passed. John Willet, fractured hip and shattered upper jaw. James Esdell, gun-shot wound in the hip. Henry Montcalm, gun-shot wound in the knee. Frederick Howard, gun-shot wound in the leg. William Penn, gun-shot wound in the thigh. Robert Fittey, gun-shot wound in the penis. Cornelius Garrison, gun-shot wound in the thigh. Edward Whittlebanks, bayonet wound in the back, producing paralysis in the lower extremities. James Turnbull, amputated arm. Stephen Phipps, bayonet wounds in abdomen and thigh. James Wells, gun-shot fracture of sacrum and gun-shot fracture of both bones of the left arm. Caleb Codding, gun-shot wound of the leg. Edward Gardner, gun-shot fracture of left arm. Jacob Davis, gun-shot wound of the thigh. John Hagabets, gun-shot wound of the hip. Peter Wilson, gun-shot fracture of the hand. John Perry, gun-shot wound of the shoulder. John Peach, gun-shot wound of the thigh. John Roberts, gun-shot wound of the thigh. John Gair, amputated thigh. Ephraim Lincoln, gun-shot wound of the knee. John Wilson, bayonet wound. William Blake, bayonet wound.

The rest were not seriously wounded.

CAPTAIN JOHN PALK

In the forties and fifties no man was better known as a character in Tavistock and on the Moor than Captain Palk, or, as he was usually designated, Quaker Palk. He was a sturdy, thick-set man with a shrewd face, sharp keen eyes, and hair short cut and turning grey.

He began life as a miner on his own account at Birch Tor and Vitifer, between the Warren Inn and Moreton Hampstead. To any man travelling over Dartmoor along the main road to the latter town, crossing that portion of the Moor where rise the headwaters of the West Webburn, the aspect of the valley and hillsides must appear strange, welted as they are with old streamworks and mine-heaps. Just beyond the inn are the remains of the King’s Oven; this was the ancient Furnum Regis, the tin-smelting place, which tin was the royal due. Here there is a large pound, in one portion of the arc of which are the remains of a circle of upright stones, enclosing a cairn and the relics of a kistvaen; a beautiful flint scraper has been found wedged between the stones of the kistvaen. The oven itself has been destroyed, and the stones carried off for the construction of the buildings of Bush Down Mine, which are hard by, but are now in ruins. On the highest bit of the down is a rude ancient cross called Bennett’s Cross, with W.B. on the face, carved in modern letters, to indicate that it forms one of the boundaries of Headland Warren. It is also a boundary mark of the parish of North Bovey, and of the ground over which the rights belonging to Vitifer Mine extended. The mine works are of many ages, some very ancient, overgrown with heather and gorse bushes; others are more recent and show raw and white against the turf and heather. Above the sources of the Webburn rises Birch Tor, crowned by a grey cairn, its flanks dense with whortle bushes, that supply richer and larger purple berries than almost any Moor slope. Birch Tor is connected with Challacombe Common, a swelling hill to the south, by a neck of land that has been cut through by miners, thereby destroying the first portion of a remarkable series of stone rows leading to a menhîr. The cuttings of the searchers after tin to the west are deep, and here nest ravens to this day. The slender stream that trickles down the depression feeds the Webburn. From the neck of land can be discerned to the east the remarkable enclosure of Grimspound, pertaining to the Early Bronze period.

As already said, John Palk worked as a miner “on his own hook” at Birch Tor, and found a good deal of tin. Finding that he needed capital he induced the Davys of Cornwall, who were his kinsmen, to enter into partnership with him. Richard Davy was subsequently M.P. for Cornwall. The Davys became then possessors of the mines of Vitifer and Birch Tor. Call after call was made on them for money to develop the mines, and the returns were insignificant. They became impatient, and considered the venture unprofitable. On one occasion, when their patience was exhausted, Palk visited them, and showed as usual an unsatisfactory balance sheet, and made a demand for more money.

Richard Davy was angry, and exclaimed, “Hang it, Palk, I wish you would take the confounded business off our hands, and make what you can of it,” and they offered it to him for a ridiculously small sum.

Quaker Palk hummed and hah’d, said, “Friend, I am a poor man, and cannot raise so much, but by the blessing of the Lord I would like to try to earn a bit of bread from it to put into my mouth. Will thee not bate the price to the level of my means?”

Eventually he bought the whole rights over Vitifer and Birch Tor. This was precisely what he had been aiming at. He knew that there was plenty of tin there, but he had hitherto avoided following out the “keenly” lodes, and exploited only the poor veins.

No sooner was the right his own than the complexion of the mine altered, and he is computed to have made from £60,000 to £80,000 out of it, and he retained Vitifer and Birch Tor mines to his death. He also secured rights in Drake Walls, and he had a smelting house there and also in Crown Dale, below Tavistock on the Tavy.

Being flush of money, he erected Palk’s Buildings in Tavistock as well as several other houses, and he bought Baggator farm in Petertavy, and Narrator in Sheepstor parish.

Quaker Palk was a sturdy teetotaller, and a lecturer on the subject, but when he came out to Vitifer, he would call in at the Warren Inn, then kept by a man named Warne, himself an interesting character, and mix himself a stiff glass of grog. On one occasion he had taken out with him Mr. John Pearce of Tavistock, and they entered the tavern. Pearce noticed that Captain Palk, in helping himself to brandy, put his hand round the glass, to hide the quantity he poured in, but when the brown liquid rose above his palm, Mr. Pearce stared and uttered an exclamation.

“Ah, John Pearce,” said Palk, “I tell thee that the Warren Inn is the highest public-house in all England, and one must live up to one’s elevation.”

On his return to Tavistock he would as likely as not appear on a platform and harangue on total abstinence.