security not to return to this country without the permission of government, and not to pass into an enemy's country, if on their so doing they should be freed from prosecution; and that the benefit of said compact would be extended to such persons in custody, or not in custody, as might choose to accept it."

"Such confidence in government then continued, that this intelligence was received, with gladness, by most of the prisoners in Belfast; and a paper, acceding to the terms proposed, was numerously signed, and sent to Mr. Pollock, This paper he rejected, as he said, on account of informality or incorrectness; and sent one, written by himself, for the acceptance of which, by government, he pledged his HONOR to all who would sign it. On this pledge, the paper was signed by a great majority of the prisoners, in the Prevost-prison; but on being presented in the artillery barrack, by colonel Barber, some hesitated, and I peremptorily refused, to sign it, declaring that " I had no compromise to make with government; and that I would not sign any paper, either implying that I was guilty of crimes which I had not committed, or admitting any thing, as a crime, which I had done as a duty." To prevent misrepresentation, I delivered this declaration, in writing, to colonel Barber, to be by him given to Mr. Pollock.

7

On

On the receipt of this declaration, Mr. Pollock was said to become so enraged, that he committed the paper with its signatures to the flames. However, he called on us personally, a few days afterwards, accompanied by the colonel and some other officers, presented another paper to us, not in a body, but one by one, and demanded our determination. His interview with me was very short; and our conversation embraced only the question; "will you now sign the compact with government?” and my answer; which was merely a repetition of my former declaration through col. Barber. After this, I was waited on by William Sinclair, Esq. his brother-in-law, a man whom I sincerely esteemed, and whose memory I revere. expressed deep sorrow, for my having so greatly offended Mr. Pollock, and used many arguments to induce me to sign the paper, not only for my own sake, but that of my fellow-prisoners, as my perseverance in refusal might be made a pretext for withholding from them the offered boon. This last suggestion impressed me with the idea that all this pressing was not well intended; as, if government meant to grant the proposed indulgence, the want of my signature, could be no reason for denying it to others; and, under this impression, I persisted in my refusal.

He

That this obstinacy, as it was called, was a disappointment to Mr. Pollock, and, perhaps,

to

to others, I had very great reason to believe; nor did the belief give me any uneasiness. But the offence taken by some of my respected fellow-prisoners, on the supposition that my stubbornness was the cause, not only of preventing their emigration, but of their detention in prison, I painfully felt, and bitterly regretted, as my feelings and convictions were invincibly opposed to their wishes. However, the event proved, about four years afterwards, that their suppositions and conclusions had not even the substantiality of a shadow to support them. The probability is that, had the signatures in Belfast been accepted and retained, the persons who signed would, after pining under a long confinement have been transported to the Continent of Europe, in common with the fourteen who had signed in Dublin, to work, or beg, their way, through foreign lands, till the grave, or some hospitable country, should yield them rest and shelter.*

Be this as it may, we twelve, comparatively comfortable bundmen, were soon after destined to another change of situation. Whether this change originated from the desire of varying and multiplying our miseries, or our comforts, I

shall

• The reasons, on which this probability rests, will appear afterwards. As to the importance given to my signature, I am at a loss what to say, only that it was given. What I know of the matter shall be communicated in appendix, No. 4.

shall not pretend to determine; bat destined we were, and removed accordingly, to enjoy the summer-breeze on the surface of the water.

Of such removal this was not the first instance. Soon after the insurrection, one prison ship had been stationed in the pool of Garmoyle, three miles from Belfast, and completely stowed, as the prisons in town could not contain the multitudes dragged in, from the counties of Down, Antrim, Armagh, Derry, and Tyrone, This being found insufficient, a second, and of much larger burthen, was chartered, stationed in the same pool, and nearly filled, both between decks, and in the lower hold, early in August. To occupy the vacant space on board, if such could be said to exist, was our destination. Accordingly, on the forenoon of the 12th of August, the fair day in Belfast, we received notice to prepare for being carried" down the water." We had barely time to pack up our little luggage, before the guards appeared at the barrack gate; and there was neither car, nor other conveyance of any kind, even for our mattresses; so that we must have lain on bare boards, once more; had it not been for the exertions of our friends, who crowded round us, in alarm and agitation.

When marched to the street, we were astonished at the parade of horse and foot, ready

to

to take charge of us, and the affectation of alarm, lest we should escape, or be rescued; though to a suspicious mind, this day of crowd and confusion might seem to have been chosen with a view to encourage such an attempt. The countenances and conduct of the military, and the multitude, with which not only the street, but every door and window, was crowded, presented a curious contrast. The former, by every look and gesture, excited alarm and - terror; the latter called forth feelings widely different, by starting tears, indignant frowns, and solemn silence. On reaching the quay, we found boats in waiting, embarked safely, and soon reached our floating Bastile. There, a guard was drawn up, on deck, to receive us; and, on approaching the hatch-way, we found it surrounded with a barricado of plank, from three to four feet high, from the top of which, on the inside, was hung a piece of old shrouds, to supply the place of a ladder, but not even fastened to the deck below to keep it steady. This rendered ascent and descent, both difficult and dangerous. Indeed, for a considerable time 'some of us-I in particular- could neither go up, nor down without assistance.

When we first came close to the hatch-way, we were met by a hot fætid steam, from the multitude below, almost intolerable. Through it, however we were obliged to descend; and,