It was a bright afternoon when we arrived on the outskirts of the city, where we halted but a few minutes, and I learned that we were yet several miles from Stapleton, where the prisons were situated. Despite our fatigue, we were hastened along a broad, dusty road that led to the north. At six o'clock we skirted the edge of a vast domain that I found, by asking, was the private estate of the Duke of Devonshire, and before we knew it we were halted in front of a long row of stone buildings, behind the barred gratings of which appeared hundreds of pallid faces. As we passed over the drawbridge spanning the deep moat, we entered the court-yard, and found ourselves with the brown sombre prison-houses on either hand. The chatter of French sounded all about us, for the majority of the prisoners were Frenchmen taken in the wars against Napoleon. The Americans were domiciled in a building apart from the Frenchmen, and did not appear to enjoy the garrulous, half-contented spirit of the others. Thus began two months of prison life that I shall dismiss with a few words, although, as I hinted, I could write a volume about it. A huge prison, in which are confined some five or six thousand men (our numbers were swelled every day by new drafts of American prisoners and Frenchmen) is much like a city. We had theatrical companies, markets, and exchanges, and men quarrelled and gambled, and plied their trades or callings to some advantage. Time passed quickly, although one day was much like another. We were well guarded and fairly well fed, although clothing and foot-gear were at a premium. My size and strength had apparently increased since I had left Belair. I stood six feet in height before I was nineteen years of age, and I afterwards added two inches more to this. In the sports, especially in foot-races and wrestling, I found myself a leader. Of course no one could live in such a community as this, even for a short time, without picking up a great deal of useful knowledge, besides imbibing much also that would serve no one in good stead except perhaps as a warning. My knowledge of the French tongue enabled me to converse with the Frenchmen, and I whiled away many an hour by talking with them and reading a romance so smirched by constant handling as to be almost undecipherable. A small volume of Shakespeare, belonging to an ex-schoolmaster, who kindly loaned it to me, I pored over by the hour. One day there came a little excitement in our life, and a great hallooing and huzzahing resounded through the prison. It was a reception tendered to a division of the crew of the luckless _Chesapeake_ that was transferred from the hulks to join us. We got up an entertainment in their honor that evening. Now to come to the evening of the 16th of September, 1813, that I can set down in this chronicle in large important letters; for on this date, by a combination of fortunate circumstances, I ceased to be a prisoner. It happened thus: