Chapter 8

“Lord Prescott, down in Newport,”Brave William Barton[1]said,“Would make all show his colors, thoughTheir 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 goTo pave the way[2]where, once a day,His lordship walks, you know.“And then if those who meet himGo 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 grassHas 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 himWhen hang’d[5]and no dispute.’Who domineers o’er woman’s tearsIs less a man than brute!“And I, for one, would enterThis 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 nighWhere by the bay it bends.“The roads are block’d by soldiers;We cannot reach him thus.What then?—A way across the bayMay yet remain for us.“I know three frigates guard it.[7]But when, some moonless night,By clouds beset, the wind and wetHave swept the sky of light;“And when the breeze and breakersOut-sound a rowlock’s beat,Amid the roar a muffled oarMight safely pass the fleet.”His comrades hush’d and heard him;Then swore to try the feat;And soon with more each held an oarTo row him past the fleet.[8]The night was dark and stormy;The bay was wild and wide;And, deftly weigh’d, each paddle-bladeLike 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 thenFiled 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 guardingThe 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, castHis eyes up o’er his head.As whist as cats the captorsCrept up each tell-tale stair,[13]And cross’d the floor to where a doorWas 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 goldThat hung beside his head.“Let darkness take you robbersFrom 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 harmWill 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 roomA window crash’d—and Barton dash’dOut doors and through the gloom.No harm was done; for othersHad swiftly caught and boundThe general’s aid, just where he madeA 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 tellHow 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 bearTheir 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 doorAgainst our innocent.Success it was for Barton.In days like those of oldNo 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 cameAs victory’s morning star.Where Freedom’s day was dawning,The man, whose light so shoneTo bless the land, appear’d more grandBecause he rose alone.Erelong, a grateful CongressChose one that for him broughtA sword on which inscriptions richRecorded all they thought.[18]In green Vermont they gave himA generous land-grant too.[18]A part of what we all had gotBy fighting, seem’d his due.But what by far was fittest,And cheer’d in every tent,Were words that raised this man we praisedTo lead our regiment.[19]Where few and frail the forcesOur land could call its own,All felt that he would steadfast be,And fight, though left alone.

“Lord Prescott, down in Newport,”Brave William Barton[1]said,“Would make all show his colors, thoughTheir own blood dyed them red.

“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.”

“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 goTo pave the way[2]where, once a day,His lordship walks, you know.

“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 himGo by, nor doff their caps,[3]Aha, his cane will fall like rain,To make them mend their lapse.”

“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 grassHas tricks that yet may kill.

“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.

“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;

“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 himWhen hang’d[5]and no dispute.’Who domineers o’er woman’s tearsIs less a man than brute!

“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 enterThis British lion’s lair,And volunteer to fetch him here,Or die beside him there.”

“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.”

“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 nighWhere by the bay it bends.

“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 bayMay yet remain for us.

“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 wetHave swept the sky of light;

“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 breakersOut-sound a rowlock’s beat,Amid the roar a muffled oarMight safely pass the fleet.”

“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 oarTo row him past the fleet.[8]

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-bladeLike velvet stroked the tide.

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 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 thenFiled softly out, and moved about,Like shadows more than men.

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.

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 guardingThe house on every side,With six or eight before the gate[13]They just had open’d wide.

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?”

“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.

“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 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, castHis eyes up o’er his head.

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 captorsCrept up each tell-tale stair,[13]And cross’d the floor to where a doorWas lock’d, nor time to spare.

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.

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 goldThat hung beside his head.

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 robbersFrom sword,” he cried, “and shot!”“No robber harms; put up those arms,”He heard, nor left the spot.

“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 harmWill fall on you,” they said.[14]

“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.

“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.”

“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 roomA window crash’d—and Barton dash’dOut doors and through the gloom.

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 othersHad swiftly caught and boundThe general’s aid, just where he madeA leap to reach the ground.[16]

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.

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.

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 tellHow fool’d had been the fleet.[9]

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 bearTheir captive far from shore.

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.

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 doorAgainst our innocent.

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 oldNo envy rife, nor party strife,Would slur a deed so bold.

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 cameAs victory’s morning star.

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 shoneTo bless the land, appear’d more grandBecause he rose alone.

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 CongressChose one that for him broughtA sword on which inscriptions richRecorded all they thought.[18]

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 himA generous land-grant too.[18]A part of what we all had gotBy fighting, seem’d his due.

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 praisedTo lead our regiment.[19]

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 forcesOur land could call its own,All felt that he would steadfast be,And fight, though left alone.

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.

[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.

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