Violent deaths among Dartmoor prisoners, whether from suicide or duel or murder, were so frequent, even in the earliest years of the prison, that in 1810 the coroner of this division of the county complained, praying that on account of the large numbers of inquests held—greater, he said, since the opening of the prison than during the preceding fourteen years—the ordinary allowance to jurors of 8_d._ per man be increased to 1_s._ He emphasized the difficulty of collecting jurors, these being principally small farmers and artificers, who had in most cases to travel long distances. The Parish of Lydford paid the fees, and the coroner’s request was granted. From the _Story of Dartmoor Prison_ by Mr. Basil Thomson, I have, with the kind permission of the author, taken many of the following facts, and with these I have associated some from the pen of the French writer, Catel. In the preface to the latter’s book we read: ‘About six leagues to the North of Plymouth, under a dark and melancholy sky, in a cold and foggy atmosphere, a rocky, dry and almost naked soil, covered eight months of the year with a mantle of snow, shuts in a space of some square leagues. This appearance strikes the view, and communicates a sort of bitterness to the soul. Nature, more than indifferent in complete stagnation, seems to have treated with avaricious parsimony this corner of land, without doubt the ugliest in England. It is in this place, where no human thought dare hope for the smallest betterment, that British philanthropy conceived and executed the double project of building a prison in time of war for French prisoners, in time of Peace for her own criminals condemned to penal servitude. Comment is needless. The reader will appreciate the double humanitarian thought which is apparent in its conception.’ Mr. Thomson informs us that the present Infirmary was the old petty officers’ prison. Here were confined officers who had broken their parole and who had been recaptured. Some of Rochambeau’s San Domingo officers were here, and the building was known as the ‘Petit Cautionnement’. As most of the officers here had private means, they formed a refined little society, dressed and lived well, and had servants to attend on them, taken from the ordinary prisoners, who were paid 3_d._ a day. Duels were frequent. In 1809, on the occasion of some national or provincial festival, there was a procession with band and banners. One Souville, a _maître d’armes_, felt himself slighted because he had not been chosen to carry the national flag, and snatched it from a youth of eighteen, to whom it had been entrusted. The youth attacked him with his fists and gave him a thrashing, which so enraged the other, whose _métier_ was that of arms, that he challenged him. The youth could not fence, but as the weapons were sticks with razor-blades affixed, this was not of serious moment. Souville, however, cut one of the youth’s fingers off.