NEW YORK a PRISON-HOUSE


The winter passed, and when the spring came the British army moved
from Philadelphia to New York City, but not without great trouble, for
Washington's army fought them every step of the way across New Jersey.

The city was now quite different from the flourishing town it had been
before the war. Held possession of by the British, it was a military
camp. No improvements were made. Many of the citizens who were loyal to
the American cause had fled. Those who were too poor to leave pretended
to favor the British, but as little business could be done, they could
find no work, and their condition became worse daily. Thousands of
American prisoners were brought here, making it a British prison-house,
and every building of any size was a guard-house, every cellar a
dungeon.

[Illustration: Old Sugar-House in Liberty Street, the Prison-House of
the Revolution.]

One of the gloomiest of these prisons was an old sugar-house close by
the Middle Dutch Church. It was built in the days of Jacob Leisler,
with thick stone walls five stories high, pierced with small windows.
The ceilings were so low and the windows so small that the air could
scarcely find entrance. Underneath was a black and dismal cellar. The
pale and shrunken faces of prisoners filled the openings at the windows
by day and by night, seeking a breath of air. They were so jammed
together that there was by no means room at the windows for all. So
these wretched men divided themselves into groups, each group crowding
close to the windows for ten minutes, then giving place to another