HISTORY OF BROOKLYN. 359

neglected to add their own names to the almost innumerable catalogue. Could these be counted, some estimate might now be made of the whole number who were there immured; but this record has long since been consigned to eternal oblivion,” and the precise number of these unknown martyrs who perished in the prison-ships, and were buried in the loose sands of the lonely Wallabout, will probably never be accurately known. It was estimated, shortly after the close of the war, when the data were more easily attainable than now, that upwards of eleven thousand died in the JERSEY alone!1 The statement was never denied, either officially or by those then resident in New York and elsewhere, who, from their connection with the British Commissary department, had full opportunities of knowing the truth. Calculating, as we safely may, the deaths on board the Jersey as averaging five a day, during the time (1779-80—April, 1783) she was occupied as a prison-ship,2 and adding thereto the large number transferred from her to the hospital-ships, where they died, as well as the hundreds exchanged from time to time, and who


1 This estimate of 11,000, or, as elsewhere Stated, 11,500, whether correct or not, undoubtedly originated in the following newspaper paragraph:

ÒFISHKILL, May 8, ’83.

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 KingÕs commanders at New York: That during the late war, it is Said, 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.Õ

2 Dring (p. 123) says: “The average number who died on board, during the period of twenty-four hours, was about five.” Freneau, in his stinging rhyme (The British Prison-ship) says:

“Each day, at least six caresses we bore,
And scratch'd them graves along the sandy shore.”

Talbot (p. 106) states that while he was on board the Jersey, the number of deaths was reduced, by cool and dry nights (it being then October) to an average of ten; and this number was considered by the survivors but a small one when compared with the terrible mortality which had prevailed in the ship for three months previously! Johnson says, “it was no uncommon thing to see five or six dead bodies brought on shore in a Single morning.” A letter from the Jersey, published in the Penn. Packet, of Sept. 4th, 1781, says: “We bury six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven men in a day; we have two hundred more sick and falling sick every day.” And similar testimony on this point could be adduced ad infinitum.