Some of the men were assigned to wash and scrub the decks. This of itself was a great blessing, as it gave them occupation and additional rations. During the night watches it was as dark as Egypt between decks, for no sort of light was allowed. Delirious men would wander about and stumble over their fellows. Sometimes the warning shout would be heard, that a madman was creeping in the darkness with a knife in his hand. At times a soldier would wake up to find that the brother at his side had become a corpse. The soldiers in charge of the prisoners were mostly Hessians, and were universally hated as mercenaries. Yet no amount of cruelty could drive patriotism from the hearts of the captives. On the 4th of July, 1782, they determined to celebrate the anniversary in a fitting manner. On the morning of that day, they came on deck with thirteen national flags, fastened on brooms. The flags were seized, torn, and trampled under foot by the guards, who looked upon the act as an insult. Nothing daunted, the men determined to have their pleasure, and began to sing national melodies. The guards became enraged, considered themselves insulted, and drove the prisoners below at an early hour, at the point of the bayonet, and closed the hatches. The prisoners again commenced to sing. At nine o'clock in the evening an order was given requiring them to cease. This order not being instantly complied with, the animosity of the guards was aroused, and they descended with lanterns and lances. Terror and consternation at once reigned supreme. The retreating prisoners were sorely pressed by the guards, who unmercifully cut and slashed away, wounding every one within their reach, and inflicting in many instances deadly blows. They then returned to the deck, leaving the wounded to suffer, without the means to have their wounds properly dressed. In consequence of this explosion of patriotism, a new torture was devised. The men, as a punishment, were kept below on the following day until noon, and thus were prevented from the enjoyment of the sun and air for six long weary hours. During this time they were also deprived of rations and water. As a result of the night's diabolism ten dead bodies were brought on deck in the morning. To show the heartlessness of the guards, an incident is narrated of a man who was supposed to be dead, and had been sewed up in his hammock and carried on deck preparatory to burial. He was observed to move, and the attention of the officer in charge was called to the fact that he was still living. "In with him," said the officer; "if he is not dead, he soon will be." The sailor took a knife, cut open the hammock, and discovered that the man was still alive. Doubtless many men who had swooned away were buried alive.