burlesque the meeting of the country militia, and afterwards became very
popular. Although Brown had not much voice, he managed to give a correct
and exceedingly laughable expression to the old song.
"That may be all true enough of some of the country militia," said
Robinson, "but in our village, there was no such foolery. Regulars--and
British ones at that--couldn't have gone through a better training, or a
better rill. One of the British officers at Saratoga said that the New
England militia were equal to regulars; and as far as marching up to
cannons' mouths and driving back dragoons goes, I think they were,
myself. You see, for a long time previous to the battle of Lexington, we
had trainings all around the country, and some of our officers were men
who had seen some hard service in the old French War. Why, just look at
the men that Ethan Allen and Arnold led against Ticonderoga, as strong a
place as was ever fortified in the northern states. There was not a
bolder or better conducted enterprise in the whole war."
THE EXPEDITION AGAINST TICONDEROGA.
"Were either of you in the expedition against Ticonderoga?" enquired
Hand, wishing to learn the particulars of that affair.
"Ay," replied a little old man, who had quit eating and fallen asleep
during Davenport's narrative, and had only wakened up at the sound of
the drum and fife, playing "Come out, ye Continentallers." "I was with
Ethan Allen. I was one of the Green Mountain Boys, that did the thing."
"Then perhaps you can tell us something about it," said Kinnison, "and
about the quarrel between Allen and Arnold. I never heard the facts of
the case, but from what I know of the two men, I feel sure Arnold was
wrong."
"To be sure he was," said old Timothy Ransom. "To be sure he was. But
I'll tell you all I know about the matter. I was at work on my farm when
I heard of the battle of Lexington. I belonged to a regiment of militia
that used to meet for drill on a neighbouring farm. Ethan Allen was the
Colonel, and he was fit to be the leader anywhere. He would lead where
any would follow, was as honest a man as ever breathed, and had a great
share of strong sense. As soon as Colonel Allen heard that the war had
really begun, he determined to seize Ticonderoga, where a great quantity
of munitions of war were stored. I forgot to tell you, however, that
Allen was commissioned a colonel by the government of Vermont. He
collected our boys at his residence, and marched to Bennington, where he
expected to be joined by more volunteers. At Bennington we met Colonel
Easton, with some men from his regiment of militia. Our party then
amounted to two hundred and seventy men; and, though I was one among
'em, I may be allowed to say, that a more daring, and a tougher set of
men were never assembled. About dusk on the 7th of May, we reached
Castleton--that's about fourteen miles east of Skenesborough. There we
were to make our final arrangements. A council of war was held. Colonel
Allen was appointed commander of the expedition, Colonel Easton second
in command, and Seth Warner, third. Allen, with the main force, was to
march to Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga, Captain Herrick with thirty men
was to push up to Skenesborough, and capture the young Major Skene,
confine his people, and seizing all the boats he could find there,
hasten to join Allen at Shoreham; and Captain Douglas was to proceed to
Panton, beyond Crown Point, and secure all the boats that should fall
in his way. On the 9th of May, Arnold arrived at Castleton, with a few
officers and men, and after introducing himself to our officers, showed
a commission from the Massachusetts Committee of Safety, by which he
claimed the supreme command. But our boys wouldn't hear anything of the
kind. We all said that Ethan Allen was our leader, and if he had not the
command, we would march back to our homes. So Colonel Arnold found that
he would have to join us without a command, or go back where he came
from. He chose to join as a mere volunteer, smothering his claim till
another occasion. On the same day on which Colonel Arnold arrived, Mr.
Phelps, one of the Connecticut Committee who were with us, disguised
himself as a countryman who wanted to be shaved, and visited
Ticonderoga, to spy into the condition of the garrison. He found that
the walls of the old fort were broken down, and that the small garrison
were careless of all discipline. As soon as Colonel Allen was informed
of this state of things, he resolved to move on at once. We marched to
the shore of the lake, opposite Ticonderoga, during the night of the 9th
of May. Allen had secured a guide in a boy named Nathan Beman, who was
fully acquainted with every secret way that led into the fortress. But
we found that we hadn't boats enough to carry all the party over the
lake. Allen, Arnold, Easton, and eighty-three of the men, of whom I was
one, had crossed just as the day was beginning to dawn. To wait would
have been too hazardous, as the garrison, if aroused, might make a stout
resistance; and we wanted to buy success as cheap as possible. Colonel
Allen resolved to commence the attack at once. We were drawn up in three
ranks on the shore nearly opposite the fort. Allen then made a short
address to us. He was never a man of many words. He said he knew our
spirit, and hoped we would remember the cause for which we were about to
strike; that would nerve the arm of a coward. He concluded by conjuring
us to obey orders strictly, and to commit no slaughter that could be
done without. Then, with Arnold at his side, Allen led us stealthily up
the rocks to the sally-port. I saw the sentinel snap his fusee at our
bold leader, and rush into the covered way that led into the fort. We
followed upon his heels, and were thus guided right into the parade
within the barracks. There another sentinel made a thrust at Easton. But
Colonel Allen struck him on the head with his sword and the fellow
begged for quarter. As we rushed into the parade, we gave a tremendous
shout, and filed off into two divisions. The men of the garrison leaped
from their beds, seized their arms, and rushed into the parade, only to
be seized by our men. I snatched a musket from a red-coat's hand just as
he was taking aim at Captain Herrick, and made the fellow shriek for
quarter, by merely striking him alongside of the face with my fist.
While we were securing the men, Colonel Allen and the boy, Nathan Beman,
went up stairs to the door of the room in which Captain Delaplace and
his wife were sleeping. Allen gave three loud raps with the hilt of his
sword on the door, and with his strong voice, ordered the captain to
surrender, or the whole garrison should be slaughtered. Our shouting had
awakened the captain and his wife, and they sprang to the door.
Delaplace appeared in his shirt and drawers, and recognising Colonel
Allen as an old friend, boldly demanded why he was disturbed. Allen
replied, by ordering him to surrender instantly. Delaplace then said,
'By what authority do you demand it?' 'In the name of the Great Jehovah
and the Continental Congress,' replied Colonel Allen, with the full
thunder of his voice, as he raised his sword over the head of the
Captain. This convinced the captain that the wisest course was to
comply, and so he gave the order for the troops to parade without arms.
Forty-eight British regulars surrendered prisoners of war, and the fort
and every thing in it became ours. The regulars, with the women and
children, were sent to Hartford. We found nearly two hundred pieces of
ordnance, and an immense quantity of ammunition of all kinds and plenty
of eatables. Just after the surrender, Seth Warner, with the rear
division, crossed the lake and joined us. The prisoners were secured and
then we all took a hearty breakfast. We had been up and on duty all
night, and that, together with our success, made us enjoy that breakfast
more than an every-day one. Colonel Arnold again attempted to take the
command of our men and the fort. But none of us would obey his orders,
and the Connecticut Committee said that Colonel Allen was the rightful
commander, as the men were to be paid by Connecticut, and Massachusetts
had furnished nothing for the enterprise, and Allen had been formally
chosen. Arnold was forced to yield; but he sent a statement of the
matter to the Massachusetts Assembly. That body confirmed Allen's
appointment and directed Arnold not to interfere. On the day of the
capture of Ticonderoga, Colonel Seth Warner, with a small body of our
men, was sent to take possession of Crown Point. But a tremendous storm
arose, and Warner was compelled to put back and pass the night with us.
But the next day, he started and captured Crown Point without firing a
shot. You see the garrison only amounted to a serjeant and eleven men,
and they didn't expect an attack; so that Warner had only to come
suddenly upon them, and make a bold show, and they surrendered. More
than one hundred cannon were taken at that place, and thus, you see, we
had something to begin the war with. Colonel Arnold gave up the idea of
commanding at Ticonderoga, but he would command somewhere, and so he
soon after undertook an expedition against St. John's. It appears to me,
Arnold was very wrong in attempting to remove such a man as Allen from
the command. But I believe he was always thinking of himself alone."
"I can't agree with you, Ransom," said Jonas Davenport. "I think he was
a selfish man in general; but I know he could be generous sometimes. In
that expedition to Canada, he helped his men whenever he could in the
smallest matters, when many other commanders would have minded their own
comfort alone. Let us have justice done to every man. I never liked
Arnold as a man; but I think he was as good a soldier and general as I
ever knew."
"Certainly as good a soldier," said Kinnison.
"His generalship," said Pitts, "never had much play. As far as he had
the chance, he proved that he had the skill and knowledge for planning
military enterprises."
"I preferred old Putnam to Arnold," said John Warner. "He was quite as
daring, and a much better-hearted man."
"Ay, a braver man than General Putnam never drew a blade," said
Kinnison. "That man's adventures would make as interestin' a book as
you'd wish to read."
"I should like to hear some of them," said Hand.
"You've heard of his great feat at Horseneck, I suppose," said Jonas
Davenport.
"Yes," replied Hand, "and often wondered at it."
PUTNAM'S ESCAPE.
"I happened to be on the spot and see that affair," said old John
Warner. "I was on a visit to a friend at a farm near Horseneck, when the
news of Governor Tryon's approach, with a large force, reached me. I
hadn't joined the regular army, for a great many reasons; but I always
took advantage of an opportunity to serve the right side. General
Putnam's picket of one hundred and fifty men, with two field-pieces, was
the only force in that neighbourhood; but I knew Old Put. would have a
shot at the enemy, no matter how few men he had with him. So I
shouldered my firelock and went and offered my services. General Putnam
planted his cannon on the high ground near the meeting-house, and
awaited the approach of the enemy. Directly, we saw Tryon, with a great
force of regulars, coming along the road. Our cannon blazed away at them
and checked their advance for a short time. But pretty soon, we saw the
dragoons and infantry preparing to make a charge, and Old Put. knew
there wouldn't be much chance of our withstanding the shock. So he
ordered us to retire into the swamp just back of our position, where we
would be safe from dragoons, at least, and where we would have an even
chance with the infantry. I expected to see the general follow us; but
he turned his horse towards the stone steps that led down the rocks from
the meeting-house. As we fell back I had time to observe him. When he
reached the head of the steps, the horse stopped as if afraid of the
attempt. But Old Putnam knew there was no time to lose, as the dragoons
were nearly upon him. So he struck his spurs into the horse's sides, and
they plunged down the steps together. I lost sight of the horse and
rider just then; but saw the red-coat dragoons stop short at the head of
the precipice, and fire their pistols after them. Not one among the
red-coats dared to follow, and ten chances to one if they had attempted
it, they would have broken their necks; for the precipice was so high
and steep as to have one hundred steps cut in it. Before they could get
round the brow of the height by the ordinary road, the General was far
beyond their reach. Tryon didn't attempt to follow us into the swamp,
but soon after commenced his retreat. We fell back to Stamford, where we
met the General with some militia he had collected, and marched back in
search of Tryon. The red-coats had completed their work and were out of
our reach."
"That ride was but one of a whole life of such deeds," said Kinnison.
"There never was a man who dared more than Putnam. In the old French
War, he astonished the boldest savages and rangers by his feats, often
throwing himself into the arms of death, as it were, and escaping
without any serious hurt."
"It was a great pity," said Colson, "that Putnam was not a younger man
when the revolutionary war broke out. He had spent his best years in
fighting for the old country, against the French and Indians."
"Perhaps it was better as it was," said Davenport. "I think there were
brave men enough in our army." It was clear that Davenport was disposed
to argue the respective merits of the generals of the revolution. Hand
thought argument might check the flow of good-feeling, and therefore
suggested that they should have more drum and fife music. Brown and
Hanson agreed, and upon request struck up the "White Cockade." This was
spirit-stirring, and called forth much applause. Another song was called
for, and one of the young men sang the following song, written for the
occasion, but which his modesty had hitherto held back. The music was
that of "Rule, Brittania!"
When our great sires this land explored,
A shelter from tyrannic wrong!
Led on by heaven's Almighty Lord,
They sung--and acted well the song,
Rise united! dare be freed!
Our sons shall vindicate the deed.
In vain the region they would gain
Was distant, dreary, undisclosed;
In vain the Atlantic roar'd between;
And hosts of savages opposed;
They rush'd undaunted, Heaven decreed
Their sons should vindicate the deed.
'Twas Freedom led the veterans forth,
And manly fortitude to bear;
They toil'd, they vanquished I such high worth
Is always Heaven's peculiar care.
Their great example still inspires,
Nor dare we act beneath our sires.
'Tis ours undaunted to defend
The dear-bought, rich inheritance;
And spite of each invading hand,
We'll fight, bleed, die, in its defence!
Pursue our fathers' paths of fame,
And emulate their glorious flame.
As the proud oak inglorious stands,
Till storms and thunder root it fast,
So stood our new unpractised bands,
Till Britain roar'd her stormy blast;
Then, see, they vanquish'd! fierce led on
By Freedom and great Washington.
The song had very little poetry and less music in it; but patriotism
applauded its spirit. Mr. Hand again directed the conversation in such a
manner as to glean as much information from the veteran patriots as
possible, and enquired if any of them had seen the hero of
Bennington--General John Stark.
"Oh! yes," replied Timothy Ransom, "There was very few of the
right-side-up men in Vermont, that I didn't see and know too. See
General Stark! I guess I did; and seen a leetle of him at Bennington,
too."
"I thought General Stark belonged to New Hampshire," said Hand.
"So he did," replied Ransom. "The country that now makes the states of
Varmount and New Hampshire was then called the New Hampshire Grants, and
was governed by one assembly and one council."
"What sort of a looking man was Stark?" enquired Pitts.
"Well, he weren't much to look at," said Ransom. "He was about the
middle height, and strongly built. He had a firm look about the face,
and you might have been sure of his doing what he said he would do,
just from hearing him talk. Blunt and downright, he was--and didn't
stop to pick words. He had seen a tougher life than any of his
neighbours--fighting as a ranger and regular soldier--and you might
suppose there was no nice affectation in his dress and manners like you
find in some of our generals. He was a man made for service."
"That's the man exactly as I saw him at Saratoga," said Kinnison.
"Did you say you was with General Stark, at Bennington?" enquired Hand.
"Ay, and did my share of that day's work," replied Ransom. "That _was_ a
battle, my boys. If you had seen the way that the militia walked up to
the enemy's cannon, and fought with regulars, you'd have said at once,
there was no use of Great Britain trying to subdue such men."
"Not having had the pleasure of seeing it," replied Hand, "I should like
to hear what you saw of it. Tell us about the affair, and how you won
such a victory."
THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON.
"You shall hear about the battle of Bennington," said Ransom. "At the
time Burgoyne was advancing towards the Hudson, the people of
Massachusetts and the New Hampshire Grants were alarmed, and feared that
Burgoyne would march towards Boston. The whole frontier was uncovered.
But the people began to feel the necessity of taking measures to check
the advance of the enemy. General Stark was then at home, angry with
Congress on account of his rank not being equal to his services. He had
resigned his commission in the regular army. I was then at my farm,
having gone home after serving with Colonel Allen. I expected to be
called into service again, but didn't intend to fight under any other
orders than those of John Stark; because I knew the man had been badly
treated, and I and most of the militia felt for him. The New Hampshire
Assembly met, and began to adopt measures for the defence of the
country. The militia was formed into two brigades. General Whipple was
appointed to command the first, and General Stark the second. Stark
refused to accept the appointment. But finding that his name was a host,
he was induced to yield his private griefs for the public good. He said
he would assume the command of the troops, if he was not desired to join
the main army, and was made accountable to no authority but that of New
Hampshire. His conditions were accepted, and he went to Charlestown to
meet the Committee of Safety. As soon as I heard that General Stark was
in the field, I hurried off to Charlestown to join the militia, I knew
would assemble there. I found the men were coming in from all
directions, and all were in high spirits. Stark sent us off to
Manchester, twenty miles from Bennington, to join Colonel Warner's
regiment. You know after that skrimmage at Hubbardton, Warner could
scarcely muster more than two hundred men, and we who were sent from
Charlestown were to fill out his regiment. I found most of the men had
been in service since the war began, and knew what fighting was; and I
thought they were a match for twice their number; but I had some near
neighbours in the regiment of Colonel Nichols at Bennington: I went and
joined him. As our regiment was filling up, General Stark arrived at
Manchester, where he met General Lincoln, who had come to conduct the
militia across the Hudson to General Schuyler; but Stark told him that
the men were called together to protect their homes in New Hampshire,
and could not be taken out of that part of the country. I heard
afterwards that General Lincoln informed Congress of the state of
things in our neighbourhood, and that Congress censured General Stark;
but he didn't care for that. He knew he was right in staying in New
Hampshire, and that the men who censured him knew nothing about the
state of things there. Well, we were called upon to meet the enemy
sooner than we expected, for it appeared that Baum, with his Germans and
Indians, was on his march towards Bennington. Soon after, I arrived at
Manchester. About four hundred men had collected at Bennington, when
General Stark arrived there, and more were coming in constantly. I guess
it was on the 13th of August when we received information that some of
Baum's Indians had been seen near Cambridge--that's about twelve miles
from Bennington. Then there was a stir among the men, and all sorts of
preparation for a desperate battle. We all knew that we were going to
fight for our homes, and that made us eager to meet the enemy. All the
men of Bennington who could bear arms joined us, and the old men and
women and boys did all they could to get us information, and to supply
our wants. General Stark sent Lieutenant-Colonel Gregg, with two hundred
men, to check the enemy. In the course of the night we were informed
that the Indians were supported by a large body of regulars, with a
train of artillery; and that the whole force of the enemy were in full
march for Bennington. General Stark immediately called out all the
militia, and sent word to Colonel Warner to bring his regiment from
Manchester. Before daylight on the morning of the 14th of August,
General Stark had about eight hundred men under his command, including
Colonel Gregg's detachment. We then moved forward to support Gregg.
About four or five miles from Bennington, we met our detachment in full
retreat, and the enemy within a mile of it. Stark ordered us to halt,
and we were then drawn up in order of battle. Baum saw we were prepared
to make fight, and halted, instead of coming up to the work like a man.
A small party of our men were forced to abandon Van Shaick's mill, where
they had been posted, but not before they had killed a few of the enemy.
Stark found that the enemy were busy entrenching themselves, and he
tried to draw them from their position by sending out small parties to
skirmish; but it was of no use, they wouldn't come out and fight; so
Stark fell back a mile, leaving a part of our regiment to skirmish. Now
you know that's a kind of fighting in which the Green Mountain Boys were
always first best. Before we fell back to the main body, we had killed
and wounded more than thirty of the enemy, including two Indian chiefs,
without losing a man."
"The battle should have been all skirmishes," said Kinnison. "You might
have cut the enemy up piece-meal."