In a paper published at Fishkill on the 18th of May, 1783, is the following card: “To All Printers, of Public Newspapers:--Tell it to the world, and let it be published in every Newspaper throughout America, Europe, Asia, and Africa, to the everlasting disgrace and infamy of the British King’s commanders at New York: That during the late war it is said that 11,644 American prisoners have suffered death by their inhuman, cruel, savage, and barbarous usage on board the filthy and malignant British prison ship called the Jersey, lying at New York. Britons tremble, lest the vengeance of Heaven fall on your isle, for the blood of these unfortunate victims! “An American” “They died, the young, the loved, the brave, The death barge came for them, And where the seas yon black rocks lave Is heard their requiem They buried them and threw the sand Unhallowed o’er that patriot band The black ship like a demon sate Upon the prowling deep, From her came fearful sounds of hate, Till pain stilled all in sleep It was the sleep that victims take, Tied, tortured, dying, at the stake. Yet some the deep has now updug, Their bones are in the sun, Whether by sword or deadly drug They perished, one by one, Was it not dread for mortal eye To see them all so strangely die? Are there those murdered men who died For freedom and for me? They seem to point, in martyred pride To that spot upon the sea From whence came once the frenzied yell, From out that wreck, that prison hell” This rough but strong old poem was written many years ago by a Mr. Whitman We have taken the liberty of retouching it to a slight degree. It is well known that _twenty hogsheads_ of bones were collected in 1808 from the shores of the Wallabout, and buried under the auspices of the Tammany Society in a vault prepared for the purpose. These were but a small part of the remains of the victims of the prison ships. Many were, as we have seen, washed into the sea, and many more were interred on the shores of New York Harbor, before the prison ships were removed to the Wallabout. It will be better that we should give the accounts left to us by eye witnesses of the sufferings on board these prison ships, and we will therefore quote from the narrative of John Van Dyke, who was confined on board the Jersey before her removal to the Wallabout. Captain John Van Dyke was taken prisoner in May, 1780, at which time he says: “We were put on board the prison ship Jersey, anchored off Fly Market. (New York City) This ship had been a hospital ship. When I came on board her stench was so great, and my breathing this putrid air--I thought it would kill me, but after being on board some days I got used to it, and as though all was a common smell. * * *