John the painter.
While Silas
[
186]
Deane (q. v.), commissioner of the Continental Congress, was in
Paris (1777), a stranger, advanced in years, called upon him one day, and requested a strictly private interview.
It was granted, when the stranger told
Deane that he was a native of
Scotland, but was an American citizen, and had lived at
Amboy, N. J., where he had a comfortable house.
The British troops stationed there, suspecting him of being a Whig, had greatly abused him, and finally burned his house to ashes.
He told
Deane he had resolved on revenge; that he had determined to kill King George, and had come to
Europe for the purpose.
He had been to
England, had laid his plans, and was ready to execute them.
He thought it right to acquaint
Deane, the
United States minister, with his scheme.
He said he passed by the name of “John the painter.”
Mr. Deane opposed the assassination of the
King as cowardly and unjust.
He was innocent of wrong in the matter.
If he must have revenge, he should take it in a manly, generous way; he should go into the
American army, and meet his enemy as a soldier, and not as a vulgar assassin; and if he could so meet King George, at the head of his army, he could kill him with propriety.
It would be lawful to so kill his generals.
The man was finally persuaded by
Deane to abandon his regicidal plan, and left.
He soon returned, thanked
Deane for persuading him not to lay violent hands on “the
Lord's Anointed,” and said he was determined to seek revenge by burning the naval stores at
Portsmouth, England.
Deane said that would tend to weaken the enemy in carrying on the war, and was legitimate business.
He was astonished at the wisdom of the man's plans.
He warned him, however, that if he should be caught his life would pay the penalty of his crime.
“I am an old man,” was the reply, “and it matters little whether I die now or five years hence.”
He borrowed a guinea from
Deane, and crossed the channel.
At
Portsmouth he took lodgings at the house of a very poor woman on the outskirts of the town.
While he was absent, she had the curiosity to examine a bundle which he had brought with him. It contained some clothing and a tin box, with some sort of a machine inside.
John wanted a top to it, and had one made by a tinman.
The same evening the naval storehouses were fired by this “infernal machine,” and $500,000 worth of property was destroyed.
Strict search was made for the incendiary in the morning at every house in the town.
The old woman told them of John the Painter and his mysterious tin box. The tinman reported making a top for it. John was fixed upon as the incendiary.
Not doubting he had been sent by the enemy for the purpose, and that relays of horses had been furnished for his escape, horsemen were sent out on every road, with orders to pursue any person they should find riding very fast.
John, meanwhile, was trudging on foot towards
London.
Men came up to him and asked him if he had seen any person riding post-haste.
“Why do you inquire?”
asked John.
He was properly answered, when John told the pursuers they were mistaken, for he— “John the painter” —was the incendiary, and gave them his reasons for the act. They took him back to
Portsmouth, where he was recognized by the old woman and the tinman.
He candidly told them that he should certainly have killed the
King had not
Mr. Deane dissuaded him, and that he was revenged, and was ready to die. He was tried, condemned, and hung.
A false and unfair account of his trial was published, and no mention was made of
Mr. Deane's having saved the life of the
King.
The
Gentleman's magazine for 1777 contains the
English account of the affair, with a portrait.
The above is compiled from manuscript notes made from the lips of
Deane by
Elias Boudinot.
