ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND.
Three days after his capture, Ethan Allen heard an extraordinary noise
on the upper deck, and he knew that the _Gaspee_ was about to sail.
But its destination he did not know.
After the first day the prisoners were allowed to have one meal a day,
for, as Prescott told Allen, he did not want to cheat the gallows.
The _Gaspee_ was bound for Quebec, and the prisoners were overjoyed at
the prospect of a change.
"It cannot be for the worse," said one of the Americans to Allen;
"therefore we shall be the gainers."
"I wish they would hang us right away," answered the hero of
Ticonderoga, "for I am tired of this life."
"We shall all be free----"
"Yes, when in our graves."
"Do not get downhearted, colonel; we have pulled through many a hard
row before now."
There was a consolation in having company, and the prisoners from the
other ships had been crowded on the _Gaspee_.
"March out the rebels."
All heard the order given, and each looked at his fellow with anxious
glance.
It might be a farewell to them. Who could tell?
The leg irons were unlocked and the prisoners marched up the
companionway to the upper deck.
As they reached the deck the fresh air was almost overwhelming, for
they had not breathed any for several days.
They were marshaled in line and awaited their doom.
Soon a bedecked officer appeared on deck accompanied by one of the most
villainous-looking seamen that ever stepped upon a deck.
"Are these all?" asked the English officer.
"Yes, general."
"Which is Ethan Allen?"
Allen was pointed out, and the gold-laced, red-coated officer raised
his pince-nez and looked at Allen as he would at any curiosity.
"Which is Eben Pike?"
The young scout was pointed out by the officer in charge, and he had to
undergo a similar inspection.
"And these are rebels? Well, well! England has nothing to fear if
this is a sample of those fighting against her. So you are Ethan
Allen? You are the man who broke into Ticonderoga? Well, well, well!
You achieved fame, but whether it will avail you much when you stand on
the gallows is for you to say."
The English officer had jerked out these sentences more to himself than
to the prisoners.
He turned to the villainous old salt by his side.
"What do you think of your cargo?"
"I'd rather have pigs."
"You show sense, but as you cannot have pigs you must take these. You
are under bonds to land them in England--how I don't care--only they
must have strength enough to stand upright on the gallows, for Jack
Ketch must not have too great a task."
The seaman chuckled.
"I've carried lots of cattle afore, and I never lose any, save a few I
toss overboard to save trouble. I'll land these or give an account of
'em."
Every word was uttered with a view of enraging the prisoners.
Allen learned afterward that the provocation was intended and
deliberate, its object being to get him to commit some overt act so
that he could be hanged or shot for insubordination.
The seaman was the captain of a sailing merchantman bound for England,
who had been engaged to transport the Americans to that country.
After a list had been made of the prisoners they were marched off the
_Gaspee_ onto a barge, which was towed out to a merchantman lying in
the bay. Four rowboats were engaged to tow the barge, and just as they
started the hawser broke and the barge was adrift.
After several minor accidents the prisoners were landed on the deck of
the merchantman, and soon found they had exchanged bad for worse.
A portion of the vessel had been boarded off by white oak planks,
making a space about twenty-two feet long by twenty feet wide.
Into this space thirty-four American prisoners were pushed, handcuffed
in pairs.
Allen refused to enter.
The captain asked who he was that he should dare to disobey orders.
"I surrendered to the British under a pledge that I should be treated
as a prisoner of war, and I demand that we shall all be treated as
human beings, not as cattle."
The captain laughed brutishly.
"Ha! ha! ha! That is good! Do you think I would treat cattle that
way? They would all be dead before they reached England. No, no, my
dear rebel! you are treated as rebels, not cattle."
Two seamen took hold of Allen and threw him into the little inclosure,
closing the door as soon as he was within.
An hour later Allen was called out.
A lieutenant had asked to see him.
"So you are Ethan Allen?" the English lieutenant asked.
"That is my name."
"Then, apart from the pleasure I have in seeing you here, I have but
one greater joy, and that is that I am able to treat you like this."
The officer spat in Allen's face.
The Green Mountain hero's hands were manacled, but he raised them and
brought them down with such force on the man's face that he fell
headlong on the deck.
Instantly Allen was surrounded with bayonets.
He was considered dangerous, and had to be forced back into the prison
inclosure.
The vessel set sail, and every day the captain taunted the prisoners
with their captivity, and took every means to make them suffer.
Some days, when the weather was more than ordinarily oppressive, he
would order that no water should be given, and as the food consisted of
salt pork and bread, or ship's biscuit, it can be well imagined how
much they all suffered.
After the vessel had been out twenty days one of the prisoners crawled
up to Allen and whispered into his ear:
"Can we live much longer like this?"
"I am afraid not."
"Then let us put an end to it."
"How?"
"Will you agree to join us?"
"I cannot answer that until I know what is proposed."
"If you do not want to join, you will not betray us?"
"What do you think of me? Have I ever been a sneak?"
"No, colonel, but the scheme is a desperate one."
"What is it?"
"To seize the ship and then take her into port as a captured vessel."
"How can it be done?"
"Jack--you know Jack, the one who brings us tobacco?"
"Yes; he is a kind-hearted Englishman."
"He isn't English, he is Irish. Now, he will file off these handcuffs
and give me the file. By working at every opportunity we can all be
free in a few days; then all we have to do is to force our way out and
seize the skipper. We will throw him overboard, and kill all who
oppose us; then the ship will be ours and we can sell it and divide the
prize money."
"My good fellow, we cannot do it."
"Why?"
"If we seized the ship we should have to sink it, for no one would
purchase it. But I will not countenance murder."
"It is not murder, it is war."
"War is brutal, I know, but when it comes to seizing a captain on board
his own vessel and killing him, that is not war, but murder, or piracy."
"Well, you will not betray us?"
"No. Only give me a chance to fight openly and I will do so, but I
will not kill a man in cold blood."
"But, colonel, you will not interfere with us?"
"No. Only do not tell me anything you are doing."
Allen did not understand that in war all things were justifiable.
He was a gentleman all the way through, and would not fight unless he
could do so honorably.
Whether Jack failed to find the file, or that the prisoners decided not
to mutiny, Allen never knew, but no attempt was ever made to secure
freedom, and after forty days' torture land was sighted.
The prisoners were ordered on deck.
It was a glorious change for them, for they had not breathed a breath
of pure air for forty days.
As they stood on the deck the captain pointed out the distant land.
"Do you know what land that is?" he asked.
There was no response; the American prisoners were too much engaged in
inhaling all the fresh air they could to care about talking.
"That is Land's End, in England. You will soon be there, and then you
will all be hanged. A short life and a wretched one will be yours from
now on. That is all. Take the prisoners back to their palatial
quarters."
The captain may have thought he was inflicting torture on the
prisoners, but he was mistaken. They were not afraid of the fate which
awaited them.
If they were to die, they would prefer to die on land to being tortured
to death in the hold of a small ship.
As one of the prisoners quoted the words of an older rebel in England:
"The noblest place for man to die
Is where he dies for man."
So all felt that if they were to be hanged in England they would be
tried, and on their trial they would be able to make their defense and
let the world know under what grievances the American colonies were
suffering.
In two days the vessel landed in Falmouth Harbor.
The news that the vessel had on board a number of American prisoners
caused thousands of people to flock to the wharf.
The greatest curiosity was manifested.
Had a cargo of wild beasts entered port the curiosity could not have
been greater.
In fact, Allen soon learned that the Americans were looked upon as wild
beasts or savages, and certainly not as civilized beings.
The windows were filled with members of the fair sex, the sidewalks of
the old English town were closely packed by men and children.
Hour after hour they waited to see the show.
A lot of detail, commonly called "red tape," had to be attended to
before the prisoners were allowed to land.
A military band escorted a regiment of redcoats down to the dock, and
the necessary papers for the transfer of the prisoners were exchanged.
Then across the gangplank walked Ethan Allen and Eben Pike, handcuffed
together.
The people on the dock pushed and stared at the Green Mountain men.
"Why, they aren't green!" exclaimed one of the bystanders with disgust.
"No, they aren't Americans; they're Irish," said another.
"Of course they're Irish; Americans are black."
"No, red."
"Not by a long shot; they're all as yellow as guineas."
Absurd as it may appear at this day to have to record such ideas, it is
an absolute fact that when it was rumored that the Green Mountain
heroes were on their way to England the prevalent idea was that they
derived their name from the color of their skin.
When the other prisoners disembarked the march was commenced to the
barracks.
The people flocked round the prisoners so that progress was impeded.
The soldiers had to charge the crowd with bayonets many times.
"What did they mean by saying they thought we were Irish?" asked Eben.
"I heard an Englishman say in New York that if it had not been for the
Irish the Americans would not have rebelled. Of course it was
nonsense, but the people do not know us yet, while they do know the
Irish."
At the barracks the prisoners were received with as much curiosity as
we can imagine was shown by Ferdinand and Isabella when Columbus
presented the American Indians in 1492.
Every man was made to answer a lot of questions, and many times over.
Allen was questioned about the strength of the American army, and
replied:
"I know not its numbers, but it is well equipped and can beat all the
armies you can send over there."
"They are rebels, and only the lowest people sympathize with them."
"Do you call George Washington a common man?" asked Allen.
"He is a rebel, and ought to know better."
"And Richard Montgomery, who fought with you at Havana and Martinique?"
"Is he with the rebels?"
"I had the honor of serving under him."
"He will be hanged, for he was a soldier of his majesty."
"You will have to capture him first."
They could not make anything of Allen, so they desisted questioning and
sent all the prisoners to the guardroom.
It was a difficult question for the government of England to decide.
The men were locked up in the barracks at Falmouth, but England did not
know what to do with them.
If the prisoners were hanged as rebels, England would be blamed by
other civilized nations, and yet it would not do to pardon them.
There was a very powerful opposition among the English people to harsh
measures, and, in fact, many English wished America success in its
struggle with the tory ministry.
And so Allen and his friends remained in jail, simply because the
ministry did not know what to do with them.