Andros was not strong, and as he himself says, disease often
seemed to pass over the weak and sickly, and to attack, with deadly
result, the prisoners who were the healthiest and most vigorous.
"It was the policy of the English to return for sound and healthy men
sent from our prisons, such Americans as had but just the breath of
life in them, sure to die before they reached home. The guard would
tell a man while in health, 'You haven't been here long enough, you
are too well to be exchanged.'
"There was one more method of getting from the ship," Andros
continues, "and that was at night to steal down through a gun-port
which we had managed to open unbeknown to the guard, and swim ashore."
This, he declared, was for him a forlorn hope. Already under the
influence of yellow fever, and barely able to walk, he was, even when
well, unable to swim ten rods. Discovery was almost certain, for the
guards now kept vigilant watch to prevent any one escaping in this
manner, and they shot all whom they detected in the act of
escaping. Yet this poor young man trusted in God. He writes: "God, who
had something more for me to do, undertook for me." Mr. Emery, the
sailing master, was going ashore for water. Andros stepped up to him
and asked: "Mr. Emery, may I go on shore with you after water?"
No such favor had ever been granted a prisoner, and Andros scarcely
knew what prompted him to prefer such a request.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363