General Prescott, the commander of the British troops in Rhode Island,
was one of those mean-spirited, petty tyrants, who, when in power,
exercise their ingenuity in devising means of harassing all who have the
misfortune to be subject to their authority; but, when circumstances
place them in the power of others, are the most contemptible sycophants
and parasites. Narrow-minded in the extreme, with a heart which had not
one benevolent impulse, he was far from being a fit officer to be placed
in authority over the people of Rhode Island, who could be more easily
conquered by lenient measures than by the use of unnecessary harshness.
From the first day of his power he pursued a system of pitiless tyranny.
Writhing under a sense of wrongs, maddened to desperation by the
meanness and malignity of their oppressor, the people of the Island
resolved to rid themselves of the cause, no matter at what risk or
sacrifice. Various plans were suggested, and even assassination was
hinted at. His harsh treatment of Colonel Ethan Allen, a prisoner in his
hands, combined with his haughty and arrogant conduct toward all,
increased the feeling against him. To add to all this, General Lee was a
prisoner in the British jail, and confined in a cell under the pretense
that he was a deserter, having once been an officer in the British army;
Washington had no prisoner of equal rank to offer in exchange.
If the capture of Prescott could be effected, it would not only rid the
Rhode Islanders of his hated rule, but would afford an officer to be
exchanged for General Lee, whom Washington was most anxious to rescue.
Under these circumstances, many enterprises were projected; but it was
reserved for Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, of the Rhode Island line, to
successfully plan and accomplish the much-desired object. He was
stationed with a force of militia on the main-land, when he received
word that Prescott was quartered at a country-house near the western
shore of the Island, about four miles from Newport, totally unconscious
of danger, though in a very exposed situation. Conceiving this to be the
favorable opportunity, Barton began to prepare for the execution of his
bold design. The enterprise proposed was bold and hazardous, and its
failure would be sure to bring upon him the charge of being rash and
foolhardy; but then, if successful, an honorable renown would be the
reward of those concerned.
He communicated his design to Colonel Horton, his superior officer, who
gave it his commendation, and permitted him to select from his regiment
such men and officers as he desired to assist him in the plot. From an
apprehension that his plans might become known to the enemy, he did not
make a selection of the necessary number of men until the last moment,
and then, with a desire that he might be accompanied only by volunteers,
he ordered his whole company upon parade, and in a brief speech stated
that he wished to obtain forty volunteers for an expedition of great
hazard, and all that wished to accompany him, should signify it by
stepping from the ranks. Without one exception, the whole regiment
advanced. He now found it necessary to make the selection himself, and
he did so, choosing those whose courage and fidelity were tested.
Several officers had personally volunteered, but not one of the party
besides Barton himself, knew of the object in view, but all trusted to
the honor and courage of their leader.
Some delay was experienced in procuring boats, but on the 4th of July,
1777, they embarked from Tiverton for Bristol. In crossing Mount Hope
Bay, they suffered from a severe storm, but they arrived at Bristol at
midnight. On the morning of the 5th, the Major, with his officers, went
over to Hog Island for the purpose of reconnoitering the position of the
enemy. Here he revealed the object of the expedition, and his plan for
its accomplishment.
It was not until the evening of the 5th, that the party again embarked.
Crossing Narragansett Bay, they landed on Warwick Neck, but were here
detained by a severe storm which retarded their plans considerably. On
the 9th, however, it became clear, and they prepared once more to sail,
with the intention of proceeding directly to Rhode Island. Some hours
after the set of sun, all was still, and the darkness affording them a
protection from observation, the little squadron shot out from the land,
and proceeded noiselessly and cautiously on its course. This was a very
hazardous part of the enterprise, as there was great danger of being
discovered by some of the ships of war that lay near the shore.
Cautiously gliding along between the islands of Prudence and Patience,
by which means they were secured from observation from the enemy's
shipping that lay off by Hope Island, they advanced rapidly to their
destination. While passing the north end of Prudence Island, they could
distinctly hear the sentinels from the ships, cry out, "All's well." The
night was one of excessive darkness, and this fortunate circumstance, no
doubt, contributed largely to the success of the plan.
The landing was effected without difficulty. In order to secure a rapid
retreat, one man was commanded to remain in each boat, and instructed to
be ready for departing at a moment's notice. When all were on shore, the
requisite instructions were given, and the party advanced rapidly in the
direction of General Prescott's head-quarters. The difficulties of Major
Barton's situation will be readily appreciated. Even should he surprise
General Prescott, a very few moments would suffice for an alarm to be
carried to the enemy, and if so, the whole British army would be upon
them before they could get to their forts. Or, even should they reach
their boats, if an alarm was conveyed to the enemy's shipping, their
retreat would, with certainty, be cut off. It was, therefore, necessary
to proceed with the utmost caution and care; and to act with equal
daring, prudence, and celerity.
The distance to the residence of the English General was about a mile.
The party was divided into five divisions: one to approach the door on
the south side, another one on the east, and a third on the west side,
there being three doors to the house, while the fourth division was to
guard the road, and the fifth to be ready to act on emergencies. They
were obliged, in order to reach the house, to pass the guard-house of
the enemy, on the left, and on their right a house occupied by a company
of cavalry. On arriving at Prescott's head-quarters, they were
challenged by a sentinel who was stationed at the gate of the front
yard. The darkness of the night prevented him from determining the
nature of the party approaching, but, as they continued to advance in
silence, he again challenged them, demanding:
"Who goes there?"
"Friends," said Barton.
"Advance and give the countersign," was the rejoinder.
"Pho!" replied Barton, as he continued to advance close to the person of
the sentinel, "we have no countersign—have you seen any rascals
to-night?"
Almost simultaneous with this remark, Barton suddenly seized the musket
of the sentinel, and charged him to make no noise on the penalty of
instant death. So much had been accomplished in perfect silence. The
divisions rapidly advanced to their respective positions, while Barton
questioned the bewildered and terrified sentinel, as to whether the
General was in the house, who replied that he was. The signal was now
given, and in an instant the south door was burst open, and the division
there stationed rushed into the building, followed by the Major.
The first person Barton met was Mr. Perwig, who denied that General
Prescott was in the house, and his son also obstinately denied the
presence of the English officer. Not being able to find him in their
rapid search through the apartments, Barton now had resort to stratagem.
In a loud voice, he declared his intention of capturing the General dead
or alive, and ordered his soldiers immediately to set fire to the house.
At this juncture, a voice which Barton suspected to belong to the
General, inquired the cause of the disturbance. Barton rushed to the
apartment from which came the voice he heard, and finding there an
elderly gentleman, just rising from his bed, he accosted him as General
Prescott. To this the gentleman assented, and declared he bore the name
and title.
"Then you are my prisoner," replied Barton.
"I acknowledge I am," was the rejoinder.
He was only allowed time to partially dress himself, when he was hurried
off by his captors.
Meanwhile a singular circumstance had occurred. At the very moment when
Barton first gained admission into the house, one of the British
soldiers managed to escape, and flew to the quarters of the main guard
to give the alarm. This man, in the alarm of the moment, rushed forth
with no other clothing than his shirt; and having hastily explained the
matter to the sentinel on duty, he passed on to the quarters of the
cavalry, which was much more remote from the head-quarters of the
General. But when the sentinel came to explain the matter to the officer
of the guard, it seemed so incredible, that he was laughed at, and was
told that he had seen a ghost. He admitted that the messenger was
clothed in white, and after being heartily laughed at for his credulity,
was ordered back to his station, and the guard went back to their
quarters. This was a most fortunate circumstance, for had the alarm of
the soldier been believed, nothing could have preserved the gallant
Major and his band from destruction.
The whole party, with the English General in their midst, marched
rapidly toward the shore. When they arrived at the boat, their prisoner,
who had been hurried away half-dressed, was permitted to complete his
toilet. They re-embarked with all possible haste, and had not got far
from the island, when the discharge of cannon and three sky-rockets gave
the signal of alarm. But, for some cause, the signal was not understood
by those on the ships, and, by this fortunate circumstance, the gallant
band was preserved, for it would have been easy for their enemy to have
cut off their retreat. Although full of anxiety and apprehension, they
bent every nerve to reach their port of destination, happily succeeding
without meeting an obstacle. When they landed, General Prescott said to
Lieutenant-Colonel Barton:
"Sir, you have made an amazing bold push to-night."
"We have been fortunate," was the modest reply.
Before morning the prisoner was in Providence, where he was delivered
into the custody of General Spencer, who treated him with consideration
far above his deserts. After a few days' stay in Providence, Prescott
was sent, under an escort, to the head-quarters of Washington on the
Hudson. On reaching Lebanon, the party stopped at the tavern of a
Captain Alden, who was an ardent Whig, and hated the very name of
Prescott. Nothing could have afforded him greater gratification than an
opportunity to inflict condign punishment upon the tyrant, and the
General unwittingly gave him that opportunity.
At the table Mrs. Alden waited upon the General; among the dishes
presented for his acceptance, was some "succotash," or corn-and-beans, a
favorite dish with the New England people, but which seemed to excite
the wrath and resentment of the little-great General, whose temper was
probably not improved by the events of the last few days.
Taking the dish in his hand, and forgetting that his position was that
of prisoner not of master, he looked at it a moment, and exclaimed:
"What's this! what's this! are you going to treat me with the food of
hogs?"
Saying which, he dashed the tureen upon the floor, breaking it, and
strewing the contents in all directions. Mrs. Alden had too much spirit
to brook such an insult to her cookery and table, and left the room to
inform her husband of the occurrence. In a few moments, Captain Alden,
bearing a large cart-whip in his hand, entered the room, demanding of
the British General what he meant by such conduct in his house. Seeing
vengeance written in every lineament of the Captain's face, the General
appealed to the officers of his escort for protection.
"Protection!" said the landlord; "I'll show you the protection you
deserve;" and seizing him by the collar, he dragged the whilom haughty
dictator from his chair, when, with all the force of an arm nerved by
the memory of the wrongs of good Americans, he rained down a shower of
blows which made the victim writhe, and cry for that mercy which he had
so often denied to others.
"I'll teach you manners," panted Alden, between the blows, "I'll teach
you to insult those who are giving you better than you deserve, you
tyrannical minion of English oppression!" While at every word the long
lash of the whip descended upon the groveling shoulders of his enemy,
until, from mere exhaustion, Alden ceased, remarking:
"There, if ever you want another lesson in good manners, come to me and
I'll give it to you with pleasure."
The officers present made no serious attempt to relieve their prisoner
from his predicament. They felt that he richly merited the castigation;
while the crestfallen General was too well assured of their feelings
toward him to reproach them—but he took a terrible revenge, when, after
a time, being exchanged, he returned to his command at Newport, where he
burned the towns and villages, turning the inhabitants houseless upon
the world. He never forgot or forgave this infliction of personal
punishment; and when, upon a subsequent occasion, three of the citizens
of Newport waited upon him concerning the business of the town, he
stormed and raved at one of them in such a manner that he was compelled
to withdraw. After the others had announced their business, and the
General had become somewhat calm, he inquired:
"Was not my treatment of Folger rather uncivil?"
Upon being assured that it certainly was, he explained it, by remarking:
"He looked so much like a —— Connecticut man, who horsewhipped me once,
that I could not bear the sight of him."
The accounts which are given of General Prescott's treatment of Ethan
Allen, are no more to the credit of his dignity than the story of the
succotash.
Shortly after Ethan Allen's celebrated conquest of Ticonderoga, he
joined the expedition into Canada, under Generals Schuyler and
Montgomery. He had no commission from Congress, but was induced by the
commanding officers to follow the army, under a promise that he should
command certain detachments in the army, when occasion required. He was
dispatched into Canada with letters to the Canadians, explaining the
object of the expedition, which was not aimed against the inhabitants of
the country, their liberties or religion, but against the British
possessors. The Canadians were invited to make common cause with the
Continentals, and expel the invader. His message was partially
successful, and numbers of the Canadians joined the Congressional
banner.
On a second expedition of a similar nature, he was induced to undertake
the enterprise against Montreal. Matters promised him success, but at a
critical moment many of his Canadian allies abandoned him. The result
was a total defeat, which ended in the surrender of himself and party.
When he was brought before General Prescott, the commanding English
officer, he was asked by him his name and title. The reply cast the
Briton into a towering passion. He could not forget the loss of
Ticonderoga, and time had not softened the bitterness of hatred he felt
against the hero of that glorious adventure. The Englishman so far
forgot his position as to threaten the person of Allen with his cane,
and applied to him every offensive epithet he could command. Finding
that Allen confronted him with an undaunted gaze, he looked around for
something else on which to wreak his hatred. He ordered the Canadians
who had been taken with Allen, to be brought forward, and executed. As
they were brought forward, wringing their hands in consternation at the
prospect of death, the heart of Allen was touched, as he could but feel
their present position was brought about by his instrumentality. He
therefore flung himself between the executioners and the intended
victims, opened his coat, and told General Prescott to let his vengeance
fall on him alone, as he was the sole cause of the Canadians taking up
arms.
The guard paused, and looked toward their General, and, indeed, it was a
moment of suspense and interest to all present. The General stood quiet
a moment or two in hesitation, and then said:
"I will not execute you now; but you shall grace a halter at Tyburn,"
accompanying his speech with a series of emphatic oaths.
Allen was now removed on board the Gaspee schooner of war, loaded with
irons of immense weight, and cast into the hold of the vessel. Here his
sufferings were of the most acute nature. His only accommodations were a
chest, on which he sat during the day and which served him as a couch at
night. The irons upon his ankles were so tight, that he could scarcely
lie down, and then only in one position. Here he was visited by many
officers of the English army, some of whom treated him civilly, but
others were abusive and insulting.
At the expiration of six weeks, he was removed to a vessel off Quebec,
where he received kind and courteous treatment. Here he remained until
his removal on board of the vessel which was to carry him to England.
Here all of the prisoners, thirty-four, were thrust into a small
apartment, each heavily ironed. They were compelled during the whole
voyage to remain in their confinement, and were subjected to every
indignity that cruelty could invent.
When first ordered to enter into their filthy apartment, Allen refused,
and endeavored to argue their brutal keeper out of his inhuman purpose,
but all in vain. The reply to his appeal was insults of the grossest
kind, and an officer of the vessel insulting him by spitting in his
face. Handcuffed as he was, the intrepid American sprung upon the
dastard, and knocked him at length upon the floor. The fellow hastily
scrambled out of the reach of Allen, and placed himself under the
protection of the guard. Allen challenged him to fight, offering to meet
him even with irons upon his wrists, but the Briton, trembling with
fear, contented himself with the protection afforded him by British
bayonets, and did not venture to oppose the intrepid American. The
prisoners were now forced into their den at the point of the bayonet.
The sufferings of the captives during the voyage were intense. Their
privations soon brought on diarrhœa and fevers. But, notwithstanding
their sickness, they received no attention from their jailers, and even
those who were crazed with raging thirst, were denied the simple boon of
fresh water.
On arriving at Falmouth, the prisoners were all marched through the
town, to Pendennis Castle, about a mile distant. The fame of Allen had
preceded him, and multitudes of people were gathered along the route to
gaze upon him, and the other prisoners. The throng was so great, that
the guard were compelled to force a passage through the crowd. Allen
appeared conspicuous among his fellow prisoners, by his eccentric dress.
When captured, he was taken in a Canadian dress, consisting of a red
shirt, a red worsted cap, a short fawn-skin jacket, and breeches of
sagathy; and in this dress he was escorted through the wondering crowd
at Falmouth. Ticonderoga was a place of notoriety, in England, and the
hero who had so signally conquered it was an object of interest and
wonder to the people.
Allen was now visited by a great number of people, some of whom were
attracted from great distances, in order to see and converse with the
American celebrity. Discussion ran high as to his eventual disposal.
Some declared that he would be hung, and argued the justice of the act.
But others defended and supported the Americans. Even in parliament the
merits of the question were discussed.
From their prison in Pendennis Castle they were removed to the Solebay
Frigate, to be conveyed to America, stopping at Cork for provisions and
water. The commanding officer was harsh and cruel, and, on the first
day, ordered the prisoners from the deck, declaring that it was a place
for gentlemen only to walk. A few days after, Allen shaved and dressed,
and proceeded to the deck. The Captain addressed him in great rage, and
said:
"Did I not order you not to come on deck?"
Allen replied that he had said that it was a place for gentlemen to
walk, and that he was Colonel Allen, a gentleman and soldier, who had
been properly introduced to him.
His reply was characteristic of his brutal despotism: "Don't walk on the
same side of the deck that I do," with an oath.
The sufferings of the prisoners continued, but when at Cork, their
situation received the attention of several benevolent gentlemen, who
exerted themselves to relieve them. Ample stores and clothing were sent
on board, but the Captain refused privilege to the prisoners to enjoy
them.
The vessels proceeded to America, first casting anchor in the harbor of
Cape Fear, North Carolina. From this place Allen was removed to Halifax.
Here his treatment continued of the same kind, that, from the first, had
characterized his captivity. He received here some kind attentions from
Captain Smith, which he afterward had occasion to return in a signal
manner. After a confinement of two months he was removed to a
man-of-war, to be conveyed to New York, for the purpose of effecting an
exchange. When arrived on board of the vessel, he was delighted to find
that he was under the command of Captain Smith, who had before served
him.
[Illustration:
Horsewhipping a Tyrant.—_Page_ 37.
]
When Colonel Allen met Captain Smith on board the vessel, he greeted him
with thanks for his kindness. The noble Captain disclaimed all merit,
and said: "This is a mutable world, and one gentleman never knows but
that it may be in his power to help another." This sentiment was
strikingly verified in the course of the voyage.
One night, as they were sailing along the coast of Rhode Island, Captain
Burke and a few other prisoners came to Allen with a plan for destroying
the British officers, seizing the vessel, and carrying her into some
friendly port. A large quantity of cash on board was held up as an
inducement for the enterprise. But Captain Smith had generously
distinguished the prisoners, and for this reason Allen strongly
condemned the plan. He declared that if the attempt was made, he would
assist in the defense of the Briton, with all his skill and strength.
Finding the conspiracy so strenuously opposed by the most influential of
the prisoners, it was abandoned, upon the assurance that they should not
be betrayed.
Upon arriving in New York, Colonel Allen was released on parole, but
restricted to the limits of New York. An attempt was made soon after to
induce him to join the British ranks. He was offered a heavy sum of
money, and large tracts of land, either in New Hampshire or Connecticut,
when the country was conquered. The integrity of the man, however, was
unassailable. His reply to the proposition was characteristic. He said
that the offer reminded him of a certain incident in Scripture. The
devil, he said, took Christ to a high hill, and showing him the kingdoms
of earth, offered him their possession, if he would fall down and
worship him, "when all the while the damned soul had not one foot of
land upon earth!" It may be believed that those sent to negotiate with
him did not fail to understand the illustration.
Colonel Allen, in a narrative of his captivity, written by himself,
gives a fearful account of the condition of the American prisoners in
New York. Before he was exchanged he was arrested on the absurd charge
of breaking his parole, and thrown into the Provost jail. Here he
remained from August to May, during which time he witnessed instances of
suffering of the most agonizing kind, and was himself compelled again to
feel the barbarous treatment of British officials. At the expiration of
the above period he was exchanged, and once more tasted of the sweets of
freedom.
It may not be out of place here, since we have given an account of
Barton's brilliant exploit in the capture of General Prescott, to relate
the story of General Wadsworth's abduction, who fell into the hands of
the British in a manner somewhat similar, though the affair was
characterized by no such daring on the part of the enemy as our own
young officer showed, in venturing into the lines of the English, since
General Wadsworth was known to be almost wholly unprotected at the time
it was resolved to take him.
In the spring of 1780 he was appointed to the command of a party of
State troops in Canada, in the district of Maine. At the expiration of
the time for which the troops were engaged, General Wadsworth dismissed
them, retaining six soldiers only as his guard, as he was making
preparations to depart from the place. A neighbor communicated his
situation to the British commander at Penobscot, and a party of
twenty-five soldiers, commanded by Lieutenant Stockton, was sent to make
him a prisoner. They embarked in a small schooner, and, landing within
four miles of the General's quarters, they were concealed in the house
of a Methodist preacher by the name of Snow—professedly a friend to us,
but really a traitor—until eleven in the evening, when they made their
arrangements for the attack.
The party rushed suddenly on the sentinel, who gave the alarm, and one
of his comrades instantly opened the kitchen door, and the enemy were so
near as to enter with the sentinel. The lady of the General, and her
friend, Miss Fenno, of Boston, were in the house at the time. Mrs.
Wadsworth escaped from her husband's room into that of Miss Fenno.
The assailants soon became masters of the whole house, except the room
where the General was, and which was strongly barred, and they kept up a
constant firing of musketry into the windows and doors, except into
those of the ladies' room. General Wadsworth was provided with a pair of
pistols, a blunderbuss and a fusee, which he employed with great
dexterity, being determined to defend himself to the last moment. With
his pistols, which he discharged several times, he defended the rooms of
his window and a door which opened into a kitchen. His blunderbuss he
snapped several times, but unfortunately it missed fire; he then secured
his fusee, which he discharged on some who were breaking through the
windows, and obliged them to flee. He next defended himself with his
bayonet, till he received a ball through his left arm, when he
surrendered, which terminated the contest. The firing, however, did not
cease from the kitchen until the General unbarred the door, when the
soldiers rushed into the room, and one of them, who had been badly
wounded, pointing a musket at his breast, exclaimed, with an oath, "you
have taken my life, and I will take yours." But Lieutenant Stockton
turned the musket aside, and saved his life. The commanding officer now
applauded the General for his admirable defense, and assisted in putting
on his clothes, saying, "you see we are in a critical situation, and
therefore you must excuse haste." Mrs. Wadsworth threw a blanket over
him, and Miss Fenno affixed a handkerchief closely around his wounded
arm.
In this condition, though much exhausted, he, with a wounded American
soldier, was directed to march on foot, while the British wounded
soldiers were mounted on a horse taken from the General's barn. They
departed in great haste. When they had proceeded about a mile, they met,
at a small house, a number of people collected, and who inquired if they
had taken General Wadsworth. They said no, and added that they must
leave a wounded man in their care, and if they paid proper attention to
him, they should be compensated; but if not, they would burn down their
house. The man appeared to be dying. General Wadsworth was mounted on
the horse behind the other wounded soldier, and was warned that his
safety depended on his silence. Having passed over a frozen mill-pond
about a mile in length, they were met by some of their party who had
been left behind. At this place they found a British privateer, which
brought the party from the fort. The Captain, on being told that he must
return there with the prisoner and the party, and seeing some of his men
wounded, became outrageous, and cursing the General for a rebel,
demanded how he dared to fire on the king's troops, and commanded him to
help launch the boat, or he would put his hanger through his body. The
General replied that he was a prisoner, and badly wounded, and could not
assist in launching the boat. Lieutenant Stockton, on hearing of this
abusive treatment, in a manner honorable to himself, told the Captain
that the prisoner was a gentleman, had made a brave defense, and was to
be treated accordingly, and added, that his conduct should be
represented to General Campbell. After this the Captain treated the
prisoner with great civility, and afforded him every comfort in his
power.
General Wadsworth had left the ladies in the house, not a window of
which escaped destruction. The doors were broken down, and two of the
rooms were on fire; the floors were covered with blood, and on one of
them lay a brave old soldier dangerously wounded, begging for death,
that he might be released from misery. The anxiety and distress of Mrs.
Wadsworth were inexpressible, and that of the General was greatly
increased by the uncertainty in his mind respecting the fate of his
little son, only five years old, who had been exposed to every danger by
firing into the house; but he had the happiness, afterward, of hearing
of his safety.
Having arrived at the British fort, the capture of General Wadsworth was
soon announced, and the shore thronged with spectators, to see the man
who, through the preceding year, had disappointed all the designs of the
British in that quarter; and loud shouts were heard from the rabble that
covered the shore. But when he arrived at the fort, and was conducted
into the officer's guard-room, he was treated with politeness. General
Campbell, the commandant of the British garrison, sent his compliments
to him, and a surgeon to dress his wound, assuring him that his
situation should be made comfortable. The next morning, General Campbell
invited him to breakfast, and at table paid him many compliments in the
defense he had made, observing, however, that he had exposed himself in
a degree not perfectly justifiable. General Wadsworth replied that from
the manner of the attack, he had no reason to suspect any design of
taking him alive, and that he intended, therefore, to sell his life as
dearly as possible. He was then informed that a room in the officers'
barracks within the fort, was prepared for him, and that an Orderly
Sergeant should daily attend him to breakfast and dinner at the
commandant's table. Having retired to his solitary apartment, and while
his spirit was extremely depressed by a recollection of the past, and by
his present situation, he received from General Campbell several books
of amusement, and soon after a visit from him, kindly endeavoring to
cheer the spirits of his prisoner by conversation. The principal
officers of the garrison also called upon him, and from them all, whom
he daily met at the commandant's table, he received particular attention
and kindness.
"He now made application for a flag of truce, by which means he could
transmit a letter to the Governor of Massachusetts, and another to Mrs.
Wadsworth. This was granted on the condition that the letter to the
Governor should be inspected. The flag was intrusted to Lieutenant
Stockton, and on his return, the General was relieved from all anxiety
respecting his wife and family. At the end of five weeks, he requested
of General Campbell the customary privilege of parole, and received in
reply that his case had been reported to the commanding officer at New
York, and that no alteration could be made, till orders were received
from that quarter. In about two months' time, Mrs. Wadsworth and Miss
Fenno arrived, and the officers of the garrison contributed to render
their visit agreeable to all concerned.
"About the same time, orders were received from the commanding General
at New York, which were concealed from General Wadsworth, but he finally
learned that he was not to be paroled nor exchanged, but was to be sent
to England as a rebel of too much consequence to be at liberty. Not long
afterward, Major Benjamin Benton, a brave and worthy man, who had served
under the General the preceding summer, was taken and brought into the
fort, and lodged in the same room with him. He had been informed that
both himself and the General were to be sent immediately after the
return of a privateer now on a cruise, either to New York or Halifax,
and thence to England. The prisoners immediately resolved to make a
desperate effort to effect their escape. They were confined in a grated
room in the officers' barracks within the fort. The wells of this
fortress, exclusively of the depth of the ditch surrounding it, were
twenty feet high, with fraising on top, and chevaux-de-frise at the
bottom.
"Two sentinels were always in the entry, and their door—the upper part
of which was glass—might be opened by their watchmen whenever they
thought proper, and was actually opened at seasons of peculiar darkness
and silence. At the exterior doors of the entries, sentinels were also
stationed, as were others in the body of the fort, and at the quarters
of General Campbell. At the guard-house a strong guard was daily
mounted. Several sentinels were stationed on the walls of the fort, and
a complete line occupied them by night. Without the ditch, glacis and
abattis, another complete set of soldiers patroled through the night,
and a picket guard was placed in or near the isthmus leading from the
fort to the main land. Notwithstanding all these fearful obstacles to
success, they resolved to make the perilous attempt.
"The room in which they were confined was railed with boards. One of
these they determined to cut off so as to make a hole large enough to
pass through, and then to creep along till they should come to the next
or middle entry; and there lower themselves down into this entry by a
blanket. If they should not be discovered, the passage to the walls of
the fort was easy. In the evening, after the sentinels had seen the
prisoners retire to bed, General Wadsworth got up, and standing in a
chair attempted to cut with his knife, the intended opening, but soon
found it impracticable. The next day, by giving a soldier a dollar they
procured a gimlet. With this instrument they proceeded cautiously and as
silently as possible to separate the board, and in order to conceal
every appearance from their servants and from the officers, their
visitors, they carefully covered the gimlet holes with chewed bread. At
the end of three weeks, their labors were so far completed, that it only
remained to cut with a knife, the parts which were left to hold the
piece in its place. When their preparations were finished, they learned
that the privateer in which they were to embark was daily expected.
"In the evening of the 18th of June, a very severe storm of rain, with
great darkness and almost incessant lightning, came on. This the
prisoners considered as the propitious moment. Having extinguished their
lights, they began to cut the corners of the board, and in less than an
hour the intended opening was completed. The noise which the operation
occasioned was drowned by the rain falling on the roof. Major Benton
first ascended to the ceiling, and pressed himself through the opening.
General Wadsworth next, having put the corner of his blanket through the
hole and made it fast by a strong wooden skewer, attempted to make his
way through, standing on a chair below, but it was with extreme
difficulty that he at length effected it, and reached the middle entry.
From this he passed through the door which he found open, and made his
way to the wall of the fort, and had to encounter the greatest
difficulty before he could ascend to the top. He had now to creep along
the top of the fort between the sentry boxes, at the very moment when
the relief was shifting sentinels, but the falling of the heavy rain
kept the sentinels within their boxes, and favored his escape. Having
now fastened his blanket round a picket at the top, he let himself down
through the chevaux-de-frise to the ground, and, in a manner astonishing
to himself, made his way into the open field. Here he was obliged to
grope his way among rocks, stumps and brush in the darkness of night,
till he reached the cove. Happily the tide had ebbed, and he was enabled
to cross the water, which was about a mile in breadth, and not more than
three feet deep.
"About two o'clock in the morning, General Wadsworth found himself a
mile and a half from the fort, and he proceeded through a thick wood and
brush to the Penobscot river, and, after passing some distance along the
shore, being seven miles from the fort, to his unspeakable joy he saw
his friend Benton advancing toward him. Major Benton had been obliged to
encounter in his course equal difficulties with his companion, and such
were the incredible perils, dangers and obstructions which they
surmounted, that their escape may be considered almost miraculous.
"It was now necessary that they should cross the Penobscot river, and
very fortunately they discovered a canoe with oars on the shore suited
to their purpose. While on the river, they discovered a barge with a
party of the British from the fort, in pursuit of them, but by taking an
oblique course, and plying their oars to the utmost, they happily eluded
the eyes of their pursuers, and arrived safe on the western shore. After
having wandered in the wilderness for several days and nights, exposed
to extreme fatigue and cold, and with no other food than a little dry
bread and meat, which they brought in their pockets from the fort, they
reached the settlements on the river St. George, and no further
difficulties attended their return to their respective families."