ON THE GASPEE.
Never before had English officer been spoken to in that manner by
prisoner.
Prescott knew not what to make of it. Had he dared he would have shot
Allen on the spot, but he well knew that to do so would be the cause of
an investigation into his conduct, and Prescott was guilty of many
things which, if sworn to before a court-martial, would have led to his
dismissal from the army, if no other punishment was incurred.
So he allowed himself to be led away, but as he went he shook his fist
at Allen and shouted:
"I will not hang them just now, but you, you infernal rebel, shall
grace a halter at Tyburn."
Even the soldiers shuddered as they heard the threat, for Tyburn was
the place, in England, where the most brutal murderers and criminals
were hung in chains and allowed to stay there until their flesh rotted
from their bones.
To be hung at Tyburn carried with it disgrace throughout all
generations.
Gen. Prescott was in a fury; why, it was difficult to say, for Allen
had never injured him personally.
"I'll hang that fellow," he reiterated to the colonel of his own
regiment.
"My dear Prescott, you will do nothing of the kind; he is a prisoner of
war."
"War be hanged! he is a rebel, not a soldier."
"And being a rebel, he must be tried by the home authorities."
"Col. Gilmartin, answer me; if he were to be on board a war ship and
fall overboard and be drowned, could I be blamed?"
"Of course not."
"If by accident he should be given a dose of oxalic acid in mistake for
Epsom salts, would that be charged against me?"
"What are you hinting at, general?"
"That fellow threatened me----"
"He was exasperated."
"What right had he to be? A man who rebels should be ready for any
treatment by his superiors. Hang me, if I dared, I would cut every
rebel into pieces and send the parts to his friends with my
compliments. They deserve such treatment. Hang me, what right have
they to rebel?"
"They think they have a right."
"They think! Who are they? A lot of rapscalions who could not be
content with their own country, but must come out here, and when we
allow them to do so, they rebel. Englishmen worthy of the name never
rebel."
"And yet, general, there were a good many worthy Englishmen who
rebelled against James and supported William the Third."
"That was different, Gilmartin, different; they were patriots, and not
rebels."
"As these men will be if they are successful."
"But they cannot be successful--they cannot be. This fellow, Allen,
was a farmer. He calls himself colonel. Fancy, of the same rank as
you, Gilmartin, while you were trained in your boyhood for the army,
and when you were old enough got a commission----"
"Which I purchased, as I have had to every promotion."
Col. Gilmartin felt sore over his tardy promotions, and never waited a
second opportunity to tell his grievances.
Prescott had been one of the fortunates ones; he had obtained his
promotion easily, so he was satisfied with the condition of the army.
He was in no humor to listen to any complaints, and so he stopped his
brother officer by saying:
"Order at once the placing of that fellow, Allen, in the heaviest
irons--stay, I will give the order myself."
He sent for his orderly and gave instructions for Allen to be placed in
heavy irons and taken at once on board the _Gaspee_, war ship, and all
the other prisoners to be ironed and placed on board the other ships in
the river.
The soldiers were pleased with the order, and proceeded to carry it out
to the extreme limit.
Ordinary handcuffs were used for the wrists, two prisoners being
manacled together, Allen being fortunate in having Eben for his fellow.
But on the legs the irons were simply horrible.
Anklets, very tight, were locked on each leg, and attached, in the
middle of the connecting chain, to a bar of iron weighing forty pounds.
The soldiers laughed as they fastened this heavy weight on Allen's
legs, telling him that it was the "king's plate."
The irons were so close that it was impossible for the prisoner to lie
in any position save on his back.
Allen and Eben were taken to the lowest deck of the schooner _Gaspee_,
and a more stifling, filthy, ill-ventilated place it would be
impossible to find.
A mock salute was tendered to the hero of Ticonderoga as he entered the
place, and out of consideration of his rank he was accorded a tool
chest on which to sit, and which was also to serve as sleeping place.
"Can I help you any?" whispered the guard, about an hour after Allen
had been placed on the chest.
"I wish you could get me some little blocks of wood to rest the iron
on," answered Allen, gratefully.
The man secured the blocks and so saved the constant strain of forty
pounds of iron pulling at the victim's legs.
While the men were kind and considerate, those in authority were just
the reverse.
Every indignity possible was heaped on the unfortunate prisoners.
It was midnight, on the first day of Allen's imprisonment, and the
Americans had managed to fall asleep.
Eben was lying at Allen's feet, enduring the most horrible tortures
because of the irons, but never complaining for fear that he might be
separated from his hero.
Suddenly their sleep was disturbed by a loud voice asking where the
rebels had been placed.
It was the captain's voice, and he knew well, for he had ordered every
detail.
"They are here, captain."
"Let them stand up."
Allen rose with difficulty, and staggered as he tried to stand at
"attention."
"Drunk, eh? Here, sergeant, see to it that this rebel does not have a
drop of anything to drink for twenty-four hours."
"Except water, captain?"
"I said not a drop of anything. He is drunk."
"Please, sir, he has had nothing to----"
"Silence! Do you want to be ordered to the hold?"
The sergeant was silent, though his whole nature rebelled against such
treatment.
The captain looked at Allen for a minute, then he asked:
"You were at Ticonderoga?"
"And I treated the prisoners with justice," answered Allen.
The only reply was a vigorous kick from the officer's well-shod foot.
Allen bit his lips, but did not resent the affront.
He knew that it was done to provoke him so that his persecutors might
have an excuse for inflicting some terrible punishment on him.
"See to it that these rebels do not sit down until I give permission."
It was the parting order of the captain, and the sergeant blushed with
shame as he heard the command.
When the officer left the deck Allen sat down.
"You must not do that, sir," said the sergeant, kindly; "you heard my
orders."
"I know, but I shall die unless----"
"Lie down, sir; I shall not stop you doing that. The orders were that
you must not sit."
Once more the two prisoners were lying down on their backs; the irons
prevented their reposing on their sides.
By daylight the prisoners were nearly dead with thirst, but not a drop
of water was allowed them.
The captain made his round of inspection at seven o'clock, and Allen
asked if they were to be allowed to have anything to eat or drink.
"No. You will get a rope round your necks soon, and it won't matter
whether you are hungry or not."
"But, sir, you have no right----"
"Stay, there! You are a rebel and have forfeited all right to be
considered in the matter."
Eben listened to the insulting words, and he was in such a position
that he was able to drag his iron bar right across the captain's path.
As the officer stepped back he tripped over the iron and fell sprawling
on the deck.
"Beg your pardon, captain, but I am not accustomed to move about with a
bar of iron on my leg, so couldn't tell where it was going to land."
Eben spoke so seriously that even the captain thought it might have
been an accident; so, after cursing the young Vermonter, he left the
place.
Then Eben laughed heartily.
"Forfeited all right, have we? Well, I have found one way of humbling
an Englishman."
"Eben, you ought not to have done it."
"Ought not? Why, I only regretted that we were not near enough to the
side so that he would have fallen into the water."
"Hush!"
"You are not to have anything to drink, nor anything to eat, but hang
me if I'm going to see you starve, so here, stow this into your mouth
and suck like mad."
The kind-hearted sergeant pushed a piece of hard boiled beef into
Allen's mouth.
Allen was too good a hunter not to know that the beef was prepared in
such a way that, though tasteless, it nourished, and by sucking on it
the saliva was promoted and thirst quenched.
After Eben had been served in the same way the sergeant laughed.
"I didn't give you aught to drink, nor aught to eat, but you'll get
there all the same, and I ain't broken the rule."
"If ever I get the chance to remember your kindness, my memory will
serve me."
"That's all right. I expect you'll get hanged, but blow me if I could
see a dog starve, and you're a trump anyway, though you be a rebel."