The Green Mountain Boys

Down from the green hills of Vermont came in all haste a

company of hardy mountaineers, at their head a large-framed,

strong-limbed, keen-eyed frontiersman, all dressed in the

homespun of their native hills, but all with rifles in their

hands, a weapon which none in the land knew better how to

use. The tidings of stirring events at Boston, spreading

rapidly through New England, had reached their ears. The

eople of America had been attacked by English troops, blood

had been shed at Lexington and Concord, war was begun, a

struggle for independence was at hand. Everywhere the

colonists, fiery with indignation, were seizing their arms

and preparing to fight for their rights. The tocsin had

rung. It was time for all patriots to be up and alert.



On the divide between Lakes George and Champlain stood a

famous fort, time-honored old Ticonderoga, which had played

so prominent a part in the French and Indian War. It was

feebly garrisoned by English troops, and was well supplied

with munitions of war. These munitions were, just then, of

more importance than men to the patriot cause. The instant

the news of Lexington reached the ears of the mountaineers

of Vermont, axes were dropped, ploughs abandoned, rifles

seized, and "Ticonderoga" was the cry. Ethan Allen, a leader

in the struggle which had for several years been maintained

between the settlers of that region and the colony of New

York, and a man of vigor and decision, lost no time in

calling his neighbors to arms, and the Green Mountain boys

were quickly in the field.






Prompt as they had been, they were none too soon. Others of

the patriots had their eyes on the same tempting prize.

Other leaders were eagerly preparing to obtain commissions

and raise men for the expedition. One of the first of these

was Benedict Arnold, who had been made colonel for the

purpose by the governor of Massachusetts, and hastened to

the western part of the colony to raise men and take command

of the enterprise.



He found men ready for the work, Green Mountain men, with

the stalwart Ethan Allen at their head, but men by no means

disposed to put themselves under any other commander than

the sturdy leader of their choice.



Only a year or two before Allen, as their colonel, had led

these hardy mountaineers against the settlers from New York

who had attempted to seize their claims, and driven out the

interlopers at sword's point. The courts at Albany had

decided that the Green Mountain region was part of the

colony of New York. Against this decision Allen had stirred

the settlers to armed resistance, thundering out against the

fulminations of the lawyers the opposite quotation from

Scripture, "The Lord is the God of the hills, but He is not

the God of the valleys," and rousing the men of the hills

to fight what he affirmed to be God's battle for the right.

In 1774, Governor Tryon, of New York, offered a reward of

one hundred and fifty pounds for the capture of Allen. The

insurgent mountaineers retorted by offering an equal reward

for the capture of Governor Tryon. Neither reward had been

earned, a year more had elapsed, and Ethan Allen, at the

head of his Green Mountain boys, was in motion in a greater

cause, to defend, not Vermont against New York, but America

against England.



But, before proceeding, we must go back and bring up events

to the point we have reached. The means for the expedition

of the Green Mountain boys came from Connecticut, whence a

sum of three hundred pounds had been sent in the hands of

trusty agents to Allen and his followers. They were found to

be more than ready, and the Connecticut agents started in

advance towards the fort, leaving the armed band to follow.

One of them, Noah Phelps by name, volunteered to enter the

fort and obtain exact information as to its condition. He

disguised himself and entered the fort as a countryman,

pretending that he wanted to be shaved. While hunting for

the barber he kept his eyes open and used his tongue freely,

asking questions like an innocent rustic, until he had

learned the exact condition of affairs, and came out with a

clean face and a full mind.



Allen was now rapidly approaching, and, lest news of his

movement should reach the fort, men were sent out on all

the roads leading thither, to intercept passers. On the 8th

of May all was ready. Allen, with one hundred and forty men,

was to go to the lake by way of Shoreham, opposite the fort.

Thirty men, under Captain Herrick, were to advance to

Skenesborough, capture Major Skene, seize boats, and drop

down the lake to join Allen.



All was in readiness for the completion of the work, when an

officer, attended by a single servant, came suddenly from

the woods and hurried to the camp. It was Benedict Arnold,

who had heard of what was afoot, and had hastened forward to

claim command of the mountaineers.



It was near nightfall. The advance party of Allen's men was

at Hand's Cove, on the eastern side of the lake, preparing

to cross. Arnold joined them and crossed with them, but on

reaching the other side of the lake claimed the command.

Allen angrily refused. The debate waxed hot; Arnold had the

commission; Allen had the men: the best of the situation lay

with the latter. He was about to settle the difficulty by

ordering Arnold under guard, when one of his friends,

fearing danger to the enterprise from the controversy,

suggested that the two men should march side by side. This

compromise was accepted and the dispute ended.



By this time day was about to break. Eighty-three men had

landed, and the boats had returned for the rest. But there

was evidently no time to lose if the fort was to be

surprised. They must move at once, without waiting for the

remainder of the party. A farmer's boy of the vicinity, who

was familiar with the fort, offered to act as guide, and in

a few minutes more the advance was begun, the two leaders at

the head, Allen in command, Arnold as a volunteer.



The stockade was reached. A wicket stood open. Through this

Allen charged followed by his men. A sentry posted there

took aim, but his piece missed fire, and he ran back

shouting the alarm. At his heels came the two leaders, at

full speed, their men crowding after, till, before a man of

the garrison appeared, the fort was fairly won.



Allen at once arranged his men so as to face each of the

barracks. It was so early that most of those within were

still asleep, and the fort was captured without the

commander becoming aware that any thing unusual was going

on. His whole command was less than fifty men, and

resistance would have been useless with double their number

of stalwart mountaineers on the parade-ground.



Allen forced one of the sentries who had been captured to

show him the way to the quarters of Captain Delaplace, the

commander. Reaching the chamber of the latter, the militia

leader called on him in a stentorian voice to surrender.

Delaplace sprang out of bed, and, half dressed, appeared

with an alarmed and surprised face at the door.



"By whose authority?" he demanded, not yet alive to the

situation.



"In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental

Congress!" roared out the Green Mountaineer.



Here was a demand which backed as it was by a drawn sword

and the sound of shouts of triumph outside, it would have

been madness to resist. The fort was surrendered with

scarcely a shot fired or a blow exchanged, and its large

stores of cannon and ammunition, then sorely needed by the

colonists besieging Boston, fell into American hands. The

stores and military material captured included a hundred and

twenty pieces of cannon, with a considerable number of small

arms and other munitions of high value to the patriot cause.



While these events were taking place, Colonel Seth Warner

was bringing the rear-guard across the lake, and was

immediately sent with a hundred men to take possession of

the fort at Crown Point, in which were only a sergeant and

twelve men. This was done without difficulty, and a hundred

more cannon captured.



The dispute between Arnold and Allen was now renewed,

Massachusetts supporting the one, Connecticut the other.

While it was being settled, the two joined in an expedition

together, with the purpose of gaining full possession of

Lake Champlain, and seizing the town of St. Johns, at its

head. This failed, reinforcements having been sent from

Montreal, and the adventurers returned to Ticonderoga,

contenting themselves for the time being with their signal

success in that quarter, and the fame on which they counted

from their daring exploit.



The after-career of Ethan Allen was an interesting one, and

worthy of being briefly sketched. Having taken Ticonderoga,

he grew warm with the desire to take Canada, and, on

September 25, 1775, made a rash assault on Montreal with an

inadequate body of men. The support he hoped for was not

forthcoming, and he and his little band were taken, Allen,

soon after, being sent in chains to England.



Here he attracted much attention, his striking form, his

ardent patriotism, his defiance of the English, even in

captivity, and certain eccentricities of his manner and

character interesting some and angering others of those with

whom he had intercourse.



Afterwards he was sent back to America and held prisoner at

Halifax and New York, in jails and prison-ships, being most

of the time harshly treated and kept heavily ironed. He was

released in 1778.



A fellow-prisoner, Alexander Graydon, has left in his

memoirs a sketch of Allen, which gives us an excellent idea

of the man. "His figure was that of a robust, large-framed

man worn down by confinement and hard fare.... His style was

a singular compound of local barbarisms, scriptural phrases,

and Oriental wildness.... Notwithstanding that Allen might

have had something of the insubordinate, lawless, frontier

spirit in his composition, he appeared to me to be a man of

generosity and honor."



Among the eccentricities of the man was a disbelief in

Christianity,--much more of an anomaly in that day than at

present,--and a belief in the transmigration of souls, it

being one of his fancies that, after death, his spiritual

part was to return to this world in the form of a large

white horse.



On his release he did not join the army. Vermont had

declared itself an independent State in 1777, and sought

admittance to the Confederation. This New York opposed.

Allen took up the cause, visited Congress on the subject,

but found its members not inclined to offend the powerful

State of New York. There was danger of civil war in the

midst of the war for independence, and the English leaders,

seeing the state of affairs, tried to persuade Allen and the

other Green Mountain leaders to declare for the authority of

the king. They evidently did not know Ethan Allen. He was

far too sound a patriot to entertain for a moment such a

thought. The letters received by him he sent in 1782 to

Congress, and when the war ended Vermont was a part of the

Union, though not admitted as a State till 1791. Allen was

then dead, having been carried away suddenly by apoplexy in

1789.