ETHAN ALLEN.
Ticonderoga, May 10, 1775.
The bell that rang at Lexington
Had call’d our men to arms;
And but their wives and children now
Were home to work the farms.
But soon, like words men whisper forth
Near foes who plot their death,
From farm to farm bad news was borne
On hush’d and trembling breath.
“Fill’d full of ‘red-coats,’[1] Boston seem’d,”
They said, “a wounded prey
That yet drank in fresh draughts of blood[1]
From fleets that fill’d the bay;
“To check their march, like mushrooms grew
Our earthworks, night by night;
But, if attack’d, our men would not
Have arms with which to fight.”[2]
At Hartford our Assembly met,[3]
And heard this; nor in vain.
It sent men off to seize what fill’d
The fort on Lake Champlain.
These pass’d to Pittsfield,[4] there were join’d
By Easton, Brown, and more;
Then on to Bennington,[5] and there
Could muster full twoscore.
Too few were they to brave a fort
Well mann’d at every gun;
Yet those who slight the light of stars
But seldom see their sun.
The sun that dawn’d before them here,
And brought them help indeed,
Was Ethan Allen’s[5] blade, that flash’d
His mountain troops to lead.
And thick as rills that rift in spring
Each bond the sun destroys,
Came pouring over all those hills
His grand Green Mountain Boys.
Two hundred[6] hardy men they were
As ever mountains rear’d;
They fought with bears and frost at home,
And naught abroad they fear’d.
Erelong, a shout went ringing out;
For all had made their choice,
And all had chosen Allen chief;
And “Forward!” call’d his voice.[7]
But one who heard his order, spurr’d
His charger from the rear,
And cried: “In me your leader see,[8]
For Cambridge sent me here.”
“And Cambridge, Cambridge, what would she?”
Cried Mott[3] and Phelps, “Nay, Nay!—
’Twas Hartford sent us forth, and we
Bade Allen lead the way.”
“And we,” cried those Vermonters true,
“We came with Allen here;
And all agree that none but he
Shall lead the mountaineer.”
The other hush’d when this he heard;
And give them honor all:
They faced the traitor Arnold[8] thus,
Who thus began his fall.
Give honor due to Allen too;
High compliment it is,
That, when the traitor train’d with him,
He was no friend of his.
Three days they tramp’d, then Allen said:
“We near the lake I see.
Let some go north and some go south,
And some straight on with me.[9]
“Let those that push for north and south
Row off with all that floats,
And make for Shoreham, where we all
Will cross when come the boats.[9]
“And let the others fall in line
Behind my lantern’s glare.
Beyond, Ticonderoga waits;
At morn, we breakfast there.”
Then, down the hunter’s trail, our line
Wound on as winds a snake,
And, late at night, prepared to spring,
Lay coil’d beside the lake.
“Now off,” said Allen, “north and south,
And hail each coming oar.”
Alas, to think that Heaven above
Should favor man no more!
To north and south we scatter’d far,
We listened o’er and o’er,
But not a sound, from north or south,
The empty breezes bore.
A few there were could cross at last,—
Alas, but all too few!
Night sped, and Allen, by the fort
Could count scarce eighty-two.[10]
“My men,” he mutter’d,[11] “look—the dawn!—
Before can cross the lake
One boat again for other men,
The day in full will break.
“Yet note the wall. You know it well;
Ten times our force, if seen,
Though clad in mail, could never scale
Those cannon thick between.
“And here the boats.—What vote you all?—
Your guns lift up,—no breath.[11]
The lake cross here?—or weapons there?
Face cowardice?—or death?
“Your guns all up?[12] your hearts all true?
How well! Had one turn’d back,[13]
Yon mounts were his no longer save
To hedge and hide his track.
“He easier might have faced, at home,
When snows were all aflame,
The sun! than wives and little ones
Whose cheeks would fire with shame.
“How oft have you, when driven off
The land you once had bought,[14]
Too poor to buy again a home
For those for whom you wrought;
“How oft, when all was torn from you,[14]
And you had urged in vain
Your chartered rights, the common law,
And all that God makes plain;
“How oft then have you pray’d aloud
That Heaven would send you down
A chance from off your country’s brow
To hurl the hated crown!
“That chance has come! But once for all
Can dawn a day like this.
And those who will not use their light
Will all life’s glory miss.
“But if one win it, yonder sun
Sheds not a splendor fit
With which to rise above his name,
Or earth that welcomes it!
“Yes, earth! For they forgot, our lords,
They dealt with Puritans,
True sons of those whom Cromwell led,
Whose right means every man’s;
“Who take their individual ills
For proofs of general pain,
And, where one prince has made them wince,
Fight all, that man may reign.
“And they forgot, that mountaineers,
High rangers, like the Swiss,
Would learn to value freedom’s world
By looking down on this!
“And yet should prove it! Ay, my men,
To-day they all shall see
How freemen, forced to care for self,
Take care to keep it free.
“Now quick, but quiet; start with steel—
Nor fire till sure to hit—
First through the gate, if through we may;
If not, then over it.
“I lead. You follow. Should I fall,
Move on: my corpse may give
At least a vantage ground! Move up:
The cause, it is, must live!”
Then Allen turn’d, and Arnold[15] too,
His foremost rival still,
Then Brown and Easton,—all the line
Stole softly up the hill.[16]
A startled sentry seized his gun,
And aim’d at Allen’s face[17];
The flint miss’d fire, and Allen rush’d,
And wrench’d it from its place.
The sentry dodg’d, and darted down
A passage through the mound.[17]
In pour’d our men; you might have thought
The sentry would be drown’d.
Swift, one by one, by Allen led,
They plung’d along the gloom:
No fear of those who, just beyond,
Might make the place their tomb.
On ran the sentry; on, our men.—
Their mountains gave no game,
Nor guide so quick to apprehend
The grounds on which they came.
At last, uploom’d in dusky light,
And choking all the way,
A man who poised his bayonet[17]
To hold them all at bay.
“Take heed!” he call’d. “We take it, man,”
Hiss’d Allen, where he sped;
Whose clashing sword had glanced the gun,
And gash’d the soldier’s head.
“Have mercy!” groan’d the wounded wretch.
Said Allen: “Drop your gun.
Hist, hist, my men! The walls are ours.
Now seize the barrack—run!”
No need to bid them! In a trice
Our boys had crown’d their race;
And closed, with shouts like thousands, round
The startled sleeping-place.[18]
Meantime, “The captain!” Allen cried;
And scarce the word had said,
Ere on a door he pounded loud[19]
To rouse his foe from bed.
It open’d partly, where behold!
In robes as white as fleece,
The chief, beside his blushing bride,
A picture stood of peace.[20]
“Surrender!”[20] order’d Allen then;
“If not, by Him on high,
Your garrison—without a hope
For quarter from us—die!”
The captain’s anger now had burst
The spell of night’s repose.
“Surrender?” hiss’d he—then turn’d pale
To hear loud shouts that rose.
“And who are you?” he stammer’d out.
“And whose is this ado?
And whose the name in which you come
And bid us yield to you?”
“The name of Great Jehovah,[21] and”—
Said Allen, drawing nigh,
“The Continental Congress!”—then
He flash’d his sword on high.
“Jehovah?—Congress?” growl’d his foe;
But, cow’d by Allen’s eye,[20]
Jehovah, in the man, at least,
He did not dare defy.
The day was won; the garrison
Filed out across the green.
More generous welcome where they came,
I think were seldom seen.
Not one who bore a cumbering gun
Or lugg’d a weighty sword,
But we to ease him of his load,
Would our relief afford.
Alack, we stack’d our shoulders full,
Relieving them of care,
Then proved our good-will, Arab-like,
By taking breakfast there.
For days and days we never ceas’d
Attending to them thus,
Until, as pride escorts a bride,
We walk’d them home with us.[22]
And then the fort—ah me, to see
The trouble rare it took
To clear the space, and give the place
A less unfriendly look!
Tenscore of cannon, mounds of flint,[23]
And tons of guns and balls—
We waited weeks, to find the means
To cart them out the walls.
But first, we mail’d a message home;
And I have heard it said,
In many a place, the floor was wet
With tears when it was read.
At Cambridge, at the news, the air
With such a shout was rent,
It almost equal’d there the roar
Of guns our fort had sent.
And Allen?—Allen lived and thrived,
And conquer’d all that tract,
Where Britain could not hold a fort[24]
That once our boys attack’d.
But war has tricks; and life has turns;
Misfortunes find the true;
And Allen once, across the sea,
Was borne a prisoner too.[25]
Yet heroes’ homes are human hearts,
And England’s crowds would cling
About the form of him they felt
Was grander than their king.
He came back home, and church bells rang—
You might, in truth, have thought[25]
A second Christmas day had come,
And Saviour’s advent brought;—
And guns were fired; and, hail’d with cheers,
Vermont bade all men call
This bravest, brightest of her sons,
The General of them all.[25]
And all the people while he lived,
They loved his eagle eye[26];
And when he died—ah, friends, you know
Such spirits cannot die!
To-day, go search those mountain woods
And valleys, humbly trod
By souls whose pure, strong faith holds on
To country, home, and God;
Ask men who own those towering trees,
Or plant the hillock steep;
The school-boys, bounding back from school,
Or watching well the sheep;
The housewives, where in thrifty homes
The generous meals are spread;
The sisters, gently handing down
The Book when prayers are said;
Ask all, who value aught they own,
Whose fame all value most?—
The flashing eye and flushing cheek
Will figure him they boast.
FOOTNOTES
[1] The British forces, nicknamed “red-coats,” were reinforced after the battle of Lexington.—Lossing’s Pict. Field Book of the Rev., vol. i., p. 537.
[2] “The provisional Assembly of Connecticut, after the battle of Lexington, concerted a plan to seize the munitions of war at Ticonderoga, for the use of the army ... at Cambridge and Roxbury.”—Lossing’s Pict. Field Book of the Rev., vol. i., p. 123.
[3] “Ed. Mott and Noah Phelps ... committee to ascertain ... strength of ... fort and to raise men.... Sixteen men went with them.”—Idem.
[4] “At Pittsfield Col. Easton and John Brown (afterwards Col.) joined them.... Col. Easton by the time he reached Bennington had enlisted forty of his men.”—Idem.
[5] “At Bennington, they found Ethan Allen ... he sent the alarm through the hills ... about one hundred Green Mountain Boys and near fifty soldiers from Massachusetts ... rallied.”—Bancroft’s Hist. U. S., vol. vii., ch. 32, p. 339.
[6] Lossing says in all about two hundred and seventy men went on the expedition.—Pict. Field Book, vol. i., p. 124.
[7] “The men unanimously elected Ethan Allen their chief.”—Bancroft’s U. S., vol. vii., ch. 23, p. 339.
[8] “Arnold joined them here with a commission from the Committee of Safety in Cambridge, and claimed the right to command. After Ticonderoga was taken, he assumed command, but his orders were not heeded. He then sent a written protest to Massachusetts, but this State sustained Allen.”—See Lossing’s Pict. Field Book, vol. i., p. 124, etc.
[9] “It was arranged that Allen ... with the main body should march to Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga; that Capt. Herrick should push to Skenesborough, ... seize all the boats there and join Allen at Shoreham, and that Capt. Douglas should go ... beyond Crown Point and secure all boats that way.”—Idem.
[10] “With the utmost difficulty ... eighty-three men crossing the lake with Allen, landed near the garrison. The boats were sent back; ... if ... waited for their could be no surprise.”—Bancroft’s U. S., vol. vii., ch. 32, p. 339.
[11] “As the first beams of morning broke ... Allen addressed them, ... ‘we must ... quit our pretentions to valor, or possess this fortress ... it is a desperate attempt, I do not urge it contrary to will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelocks.’”—Idem.
[12] “At the word, every firelock was poised.”—Idem.
[13] Allen “drew up his men in three ranks on the shore, ... and in a low, distinct tone harangued them.”—Lossing’s Pict. Field Book, vol. i., p. 124.
[14] “The king in council had ... dismembered New Hampshire, and annexed to New York the country north of Massachusetts and west of Connecticut River ... it was, therefore, held by the royalists that the grants made under the sanction of the royal governor of New Hampshire were annulled. Many of the lands for which the king had received the price ... were granted anew, and the former purchasers were compelled to redeem them.”—Bancroft’s U. S., vol. v., ch. 10., p. 214. “Sixty-seven families in as many houses ... had elected their own municipal officers; founded three several public schools; set their meeting-house among the primeval forests ... called their village Bennington. The royal officers at New York disposed anew of that town, as well as of others near it, so that the king was known ... chiefly by his agents, who had knowingly sold his lands twice over.”—Bancroft’s U. S., vol. v., ch. 14., pp. 291, 292.
[15] Allen led the party, “Arnold keeping emulously at his side.”—Idem, vol. vii., ch. 32, p. 339.
[16] “They marched quickly but stealthily ... to the sally port.”—Lossing’s Pict. Field Book, vol. i., p. 124.
[17] “The sentinel snapped his fusee at (Allen), but it missed, and he retreated within the fort under a covered way. The Americans followed, and were thus guided ... to the parade within the barracks. There another sentinel made a thrust ... but a blow upon the head from Allen’s sword made him beg for quarter.”—See Idem.
[18] “The Americans rushed into the fort ... and raising the Indian war-whoop, ... formed on the parade in hollow square to face each of the barracks.”—Bancroft’s U. S., vol. vii., ch. 32, p. 339.
[19] “Allen ... went ... to the door of the quarters of Capt. Delaplace, ... and giving three loud raps ... ordered him to appear, or the whole garrison should be sacrificed.”—Lossing’s Pict. Field Book, vol. i., p. 125.
[20] “Delaplace appeared in shirt and drawers, with the frightened face of his pretty wife peering over his shoulder.”—Idem.
[21] “‘Deliver me the fort instantly!’ said Allen. ‘By what authority?’ asked Delaplace. ‘In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress.’ answered Allen. Delaplace ... at sight of Allen’s drawn sword near his head ... gave up the garrison.”—Bancroft’s U. S., vol. vii., ch. 32, p. 340.
[22] “The garrison of forty-eight men were surrendered prisoners of war, and ... sent to Hartford.”—See Lossing’s Pict. Field Book, vol. i., p. 125.
[23] “120 pieces of cannon, 50 swivels, 2 ten-inch mortars ... 10 tons of musket-balls, three cartloads of flints ... 100 stand of small-arms, 10 casks of powder, 2 brass cannon, 30 barrels of flour, 18 barrels of port, etc.”—See Idem.
[24] “This success was followed by others; the capture of a sloop-of-war and St. John’s Fort.... In the autumn of the same year, he was twice sent into Canada to excite rebellion against the English government.”—Appleton’s Cyclopædia of Biography.
[25] “Allen was sent to Canada in 1775; was taken prisoner and carried to England, where his appearance excited great interest. On his return, he was received with great demonstrations of joy in Bennington, and made Maj.-Gen. of Vermont. He died in 1789, aged fifty.”—See Idem.
[26] Allen is said to have had a remarkably keen and expressive eye.
HOW BARTON TOOK THE GENERAL.[1]
Narragansett Bay, July 10, 1777.
“Lord Prescott, down in Newport,”
Brave William Barton[1] said,
“Would make all show his colors, though
Their own blood dyed them red.
“Perhaps he thinks our natives,
On England’s footstool here,
Did they not feel his lordly heel,
Might deem him not a peer.”
“Say footpath here,” said Potter[8];
“Just now their doorsteps go
To pave the way[2] where, once a day,
His lordship walks, you know.
“And then if those who meet him
Go by, nor doff their caps,[3]
Aha, his cane will fall like rain,
To make them mend their lapse.”
“Small spite! and yet,” said Barton:
“A wrinkle shows the will.
A grazing ass that kicks but grass
Has tricks that yet may kill.
“Who minds it, though a Quaker,
Forsooth, lift not his hat;
Yet one in town, he first rode down,[4]
Then had him chain’d for that.
“And Tripp[5]—when spies had jail’d him;
And none knew what it meant;
And when, half dead with fear, they said,
His wife to see him went;
“Said Prescott: ‘Come and see him
When hang’d[5] and no dispute.’
Who domineers o’er woman’s tears
Is less a man than brute!
“And I, for one, would enter
This British lion’s lair,
And volunteer to fetch him here,
Or die beside him there.”
“Sure death!” his comrades mutter’d;
“The troops guard every road.
A man to try your scheme should fly;
We know no other mode.”
“He quarters now,” said Barton,
“At Overton’s,[6] the Friend’s,
Whose house is by the bay-road nigh
Where by the bay it bends.
“The roads are block’d by soldiers;
We cannot reach him thus.
What then?—A way across the bay
May yet remain for us.
“I know three frigates guard it.[7]
But when, some moonless night,
By clouds beset, the wind and wet
Have swept the sky of light;
“And when the breeze and breakers
Out-sound a rowlock’s beat,
Amid the roar a muffled oar
Might safely pass the fleet.”
His comrades hush’d and heard him;
Then swore to try the feat;
And soon with more each held an oar
To row him past the fleet.[8]
The night was dark and stormy;
The bay was wild and wide;
And, deftly weigh’d, each paddle-blade
Like velvet stroked the tide.
They near’d the English frigates,
They heard their sentries’ feet,
They heard a bell, and then “All’s well”[9]
Re-echo’d through the fleet.
They pull’d around a guard-boat[9];
They struck the land, and then
Filed softly out, and moved about,
Like shadows more than men.
They split in three small parties[10];
And each stole softly round,
A sentry near a guard-house here,
And there a camping ground.
At last the three were guarding
The house on every side,
With six or eight before the gate[13]
They just had open’d wide.
“Your countersign!” a sentry[11]
Call’d out; and Barton said:
“Have none to-night”;—his tone was light—
“Have here deserters fled?”
“Ah, from the boats?” the guard said.
“Yes,” Barton hiss’d, “from one!”
But as he hiss’d he clutch’d, nor miss’d,
The sentry’s throat and gun.
The sentry gasp’d and gave it;
Lay gunless, gagg’d, and bound.
Our men had pass’d the door, at last,
Nor yet had roused a sound.
The Quaker sat there reading[12]
“What would you have?” he said;
Then, when they ask’d for Prescott, cast
His eyes up o’er his head.
As whist as cats the captors
Crept up each tell-tale stair,[13]
And cross’d the floor to where a door
Was lock’d, nor time to spare.
Then one of them—Jack Sisson,[13]
A burly, patriot black—
Bent down his frame, and, taking aim,
Burst through, and flung it back.
They saw the general starting,[14]
And bounding forth from bed,
And seizing hold his watch of gold
That hung beside his head.
“Let darkness take you robbers
From sword,” he cried, “and shot!”
“No robber harms; put up those arms,”
He heard, nor left the spot.
“We came to take you captive,
Alive,” he heard, “or dead.
If you alarm the camp, the harm
Will fall on you,” they said.[14]
“Move on.”—“I dress,” he told them.[15]
But they, in tones polite,
Replied: “Not so. We came, you know,
Without our wives to-night.
“Your cloak is all you need now,
The night is black and hot.
Your last resort—our time too short!—
Thank God you were not shot.”
Down stairs they march’d their captive.
But hark! In some far room
A window crash’d—and Barton dash’d
Out doors and through the gloom.
No harm was done; for others
Had swiftly caught and bound
The general’s aid, just where he made
A leap to reach the ground.[16]
So now they held three captives;
And these, by daggers led,
They slipt about the camp and out,
As needles flit with thread.
At last they reach’d the water,
At last, row’d o’er the tide;
None heard their oars upon the shores,
Or boats by which they hied.
They pass’d the English frigates,
They heard their sentries’ feet,
They heard, “All’s well!” call’d out to tell
How fool’d had been the fleet.[9]
And then their stroke was bolder:
For Warwick Point[17] they bore.
A coach and pair were there to bear
Their captive far from shore.
Here[17] Prescott broke the silence:
“Your push was boldly plann’d.”
Said Barton: “Yes, and with success”;
And took the reins in hand.
Success it was for Newport.
The foe knew all it meant;
They lock’d no more a prison door
Against our innocent.
Success it was for Barton.
In days like those of old
No envy rife, nor party strife,
Would slur a deed so bold.
Through all our homes in Newport,
Through all our camps afar,
Men praised his name, and hoped he came
As victory’s morning star.
Where Freedom’s day was dawning,
The man, whose light so shone
To bless the land, appear’d more grand
Because he rose alone.
Erelong, a grateful Congress
Chose one that for him brought
A sword on which inscriptions rich
Recorded all they thought.[18]
In green Vermont they gave him
A generous land-grant too.[18]
A part of what we all had got
By fighting, seem’d his due.
But what by far was fittest,
And cheer’d in every tent,
Were words that raised this man we praised
To lead our regiment.[19]
Where few and frail the forces
Our land could call its own,
All felt that he would steadfast be,
And fight, though left alone.
FOOTNOTES
[1] “Brig.-Gen. Prescott ... had been nurtured in the lap of aristocracy, and taught all its exclusive precepts.... He was a tyrant at heart, and, having the opportunity, he exercised a tyrant’s plentiful prerogatives.”—Lossing’s Pict. Field Bk. of the Rev., vol. ii., p. 74. “William Barton was a native of Providence, Rhode Island.... Lieutenant-Colonel in the militia of his State ... when he planned and executed the expedition for the abduction of General Prescott,” who commanded the British forces at Newport, Rhode Island.—Idem, p. 75. Note.
[2] “Prescott ... had a fine sidewalk made for his accommodation along Pelham and up Spring streets; for which purpose, he took the door steps.”—Idem, p. 75. Note.
[3] “His habit, while walking the streets, if he saw any of the inhabitants conversing together, was to shake his cane at them, and say: ‘Disperse ye rebels.’ He was also in the habit, when he met citizens in the streets, of commanding them to take off their hats, and, unless the order was instantly complied with, it was enforced by a rap of his cane.”—Idem, p. 74.
[4] “He overtook a Quaker who did not doff his hat. The general, who was on horseback, dashed ... him against a stone wall, knocked off his hat, and then put him under guard.”—Idem.
[5] “Prescott caused many citizens of Newport to be imprisoned, some of them for months, without any assigned reason. Among others ... William Tripp.... He had a ... family, but the tyrant would not allow him to hold any communication with them either written or verbal.... His wife sought ... a personal interview.... A captain, ... echoing his master’s words ... informed her, as he shut the door in her face, that he expected her husband would be hung as a rebel in less than a week.”—Idem.
[6] “General Prescott was quartered at the house of a Quaker, named Overton.”—Idem, p. 75.
[7] “These were three British frigates with their guard-boats ... almost in front of Prescott’s quarters.”—Idem.
[8] “With a few chosen men, Barton embarked in four whale boats with muffled oars at Warwick Point at nine o’clock in the evening.”—Idem., p. 75. “Mr. Barton, by request, furnished me with the following list of the names of those who accompanied his father on his perilous expedition. Officers.—Andrew Stanton, Eleazer Adams, Samuel Potter, James Wilcox. Non-Commissioned Officers.—Joshua Babcock and Samuel Phillips. Privates.—Benjamin Pren, James Potter, Henry Fisher, James Parker, Joseph Guild, Nathan Smith, Isaac Brown, Billington Crumb, James Haines, Samuel Apis, Alderman Crank, Oliver Simmons, Jack Sherman, Joel Briggs, Clark Packard, Samuel Cory, James Weaver, Clark Crandall, Sampson George, Joseph Ralph, Jedediah Grenale, Richard Hare, Darius Wale, Joseph Denis, William Bruff, Charles Hassett, Thomas Wilcox, Pardon Cory, Jeremiah Thomas, John Hunt, Thomas Austin, Daniel Page (a Narraganset Indian), Jack Sisson (black), and—Howe or Whiting, boat-steerer.”—Idem, p. 76. Note.
[9] “They heard the cry: ‘All’s well,’ from the guard-boat of the enemy as they passed silently.”—Idem, p. 76.
[10] “Barton divided his men into several squads.... The main portion passed ... between a British guard-house and the encampment of a company of light-horse, while the remainder was ... to approach Prescott’s quarters from the rear.”—Idem.
[11] “As Barton and his men approached the gate, a sentinel hailed them twice, and then demanded the countersign. ‘We have no countersign to give,’ Barton said, and quickly added: ‘Have you seen any deserters here to-night?’ The sentinel was misled by this question, supposing them to be friends ... until his musket was seized, and himself bound and menaced with instant death if he made any noise.”—Idem.
[12] “Barton entered the front passage boldly. Mr. Overton sat alone reading.... Barton inquired for Gen. Prescott’s room. Overton pointed upward, signifying that it was directly over.”—Idem, p. 77.
[13] “With four strong men and Sisson, a powerful negro ... Barton ascended the stairs, and gently tried the door. It was locked; no time was to be lost ... the negro drew back ... and using his head for a battering-ram, burst open the door at the first effort.”—Idem.
[14] “The general supposing the intruders to be robbers, sprang from his bed, and seized his gold watch that was hanging upon the wall. Barton ... told him he was his prisoner, and that perfect silence was now his only safety.”—Idem.
[15] “Prescott begged time to dress, but it being a hot July night, and time precious, Barton refused acquiescence, feeling that it would not be cruel to take him ... where he could make his toilet ... at his leisure. So, throwing his cloak around him ... the prisoner was hurried to the shore.”—Idem.
[16] “Prescott’s aid, hearing the noise in the general’s room, leaped from a window to escape, but was captured.”—Idem.
[17] “At Warwick Point ... Prescott first broke the silence by saying to Col. Barton: ‘Sir, you have made a bold push, to-night.’ ‘We have been fortunate,’ coolly replied Barton. Captain Elliot was there with a coach to convey the prisoners to Providence.”—Idem.
[18] “For that service Congress honored him by the presentation of a sword, and also by a grant of land in Vermont.”—Idem, p. 75. Note.
[19] “And on the 24th of December following he was promoted to the rank and pay of colonel in the Continental army.”—Idem, p. 77.