The American Prisoner

by Eden Phillpotts

A brazen clangour echoed and re-echoed through Prince Town; the walls of the prison flung it to the mountain-tops, and the great tors resounded it, until, sunk to a mellow murmur, the bells were heard afar off. Upon their clash followed the rattle and hubbub of drums, for a tattoo broke out and beat the guard to quarters. No more unfortunate act could have marked the moment. Thousands of prisoners, just then turning in to their evening meal, rushed back to the yards, and the group at the gate became a centre of theatrical attraction. Upon one side of them advanced the Commandant, his officers and the bulk of the garrison; on the other their inquisitive and excited compatriots began to crowd. The mass was augmented from the rear until it became a moving force, impelled forward and powerless to take action against itself. Thus, when bayonets were lowered, the unfortunate van of this great movement found itself pushed remorselessly upon them.

Captain Short, taking sole command at the fatal moment, when his own self-command had vanished, drew up his force in position to charge. Simultaneously a crash above the hubbub told that the great chain at the gate was broken, and a hundred voices were lifted to cheer Mr. Knapps, whose powerful arm, wielding a sledge, had done the deed. Until now it is certain that any design of escaping had but actuated a handful of the prisoners. No concerted enterprise existed among them; but as the barrier fell and the gate yawned open, others, seeing the opportunity, crowded among Burnham's faction, and prepared to break out under the eyes of their guardians. Captain Short understood nothing more than what he saw, and the immediate danger cooled his passion. But his hatred of this many-headed monster was not cooled. Cries resounded, and behind the breaking gates the civil guards were flying. Yet to the Commandant's credit it may be recorded that he addressed the prisoners and called upon them to yield and fall back. Only yells and laughter greeted him; while at the portals themselves an energetic handful were already forcing the great gates off their hinges.

Thereon the Commandant ordered fifteen file of the guard to this barrier, and with lowered bayonets the men advanced. Many fell back; many were driven on with curses and sharp wounds; but the inert mass behind yielded slowly, while the phalanx in front refused to yield. They kept their ground and held the gate. They insulted the soldiers, and even dared Short to fire upon them.

The first use of that awful word was in Burnham's mouth. "We are free men!" he shouted; "and you have no jurisdiction upon us, and no right to lift these bars between us and liberty. You might as soon dare to fire upon us as order us to bide here. This night we take our liberty, since you abuse your trust and deny it to us in a country that is at peace with ours."

The mass who heard yelled and pressed forward; those who heard not answered the yell, and guessing nothing of the bayonets in front, fought to get there.

Short answered Burnham.

"Before God, they shall fire if——"

But his troops, now maddened with anger, and sore buffeted by the foremost of the prisoners, heard the word "fire," and waited for no context.

A crash and a vibrating roar followed, and Short's sentence was never spoken. Into the waning light flashed the muskets, and with the billowy smoke there rolled aloft a shriek of fear and of agony where souls parted from life.

William Burnham fell shot through the head, and several perished with him. About fifty men were wounded, and the great yard ran blood. Many of the soldiers had fired reluctantly and discharged their weapons over the heads of the prisoners; but the cry of "Blank cartridge!" lifted in the rear had no power to stay the awful panic that followed. A bellow went up from thousands of throats, and the masses of men fell back and poured like rivers into the gaols. It was then that certain knaves among the soldiery, themselves secure on the wall of the prison, opened a cross fire and slew not a few innocent men as they fled to safety. None was brought to justice for this damnable deed, because not one criminal could be discovered when the catastrophe was investigated.