FALL OF TICONDEROGA.
On the night of the 17th of April, 1755, a lantern was hung out from
an upper window of the North Church of Boston. Never did the beams of
a tallow dip go forth on more momentous errand. As the feeble rays
shot out into the night, few realized therein a symbol of the cause
of Liberty that was so soon to be consecrated with patriot blood, and
that was destined to create a refuge for the oppressed of every land.
Hostile British troops were silently threading the dark marshes, and
this was the signal to the minute men to prepare for their coming.
The British had placed guards on all the roads leading out of Boston
to prevent all intelligence of the midnight sally from getting abroad;
but the enemy had proceeded only a few miles when alarm guns, booming
through the night air, and the clanging of village bells, showed
that the news of their approach was traveling before them, and that
the country was rising. An express was sent back to Boston for a
reinforcement, and Major Pitcairn was detached to press forward with
all speed.
About seventy of the yeomanry of the country had been drawn up in
military array near the church on the village green at Lexington.
Pitcairn halted his men within a short distance of the church, and
ordered them to prime and load. They then advanced at double quick. The
Major, riding forward, shouted, “Disperse, ye rebels! lay down your
arms and disperse!” The patriots refused to obey; nor were they put to
flight until eight of their little band were killed and ten wounded.
The victors formed on the common, fired a volley, and gave three
cheers for their inglorious triumph. Colonel Smith now arrived with
the remainder of the force, and the march was resumed to the little
village of Concord.
There the alarm had preceded them, arousing the inhabitants in the dead
hour of night. The church bell called together the inhabitants. The
minute men seized their arms and paraded near the church. Efforts were
being made to conceal the military stores. A horseman brought word that
the British troops had fired upon the people at Lexington, and were
then advancing in victorious array upon Concord.
The excitement and indignation of the brave patriots were fully roused.
Some of the militia marched down the road to meet the English force,
and reported it to be three times their own. They now retired to an
eminence about a mile from the centre of the town.
About seven o’clock the British troops hove in sight, with flags
displayed and arms glittering in the morning sun. A strong detachment
took post on the green, while parties were sent out to destroy the
military stores. The yeomanry from the surrounding country were
pouring in with such arms as they could obtain, until the little
war-gathering on the height numbered nearly five hundred. At ten
o’clock a body of three hundred dislodged the British from the north
bridge, with a loss of two men killed. By this time, the stores having
been destroyed, the enemy prepared to retreat.
The British troops were jaded with their long night march, but there
was no rest or safety for them short of Boston. On their return march,
the adjacent rocks and stone fences formed convenient breastworks, from
behind which rustic marksmen sent the deadly bullet full into their
ranks. Some were shot down: others dropped from sheer exhaustion; the
rest hurried on with no care for their fallen comrades.
Before reaching Lexington, Colonel Smith received a severe wound in the
leg. About two o’clock in the afternoon, they were met by a detachment
one thousand strong, with two field pieces. This was the reinforcement
that had marched so gaily through Roxbury to the tune of “Yankee
Doodle,” in derision of the rebels. The troops opened to the right and
left, allowing the retreating soldiers to throw themselves into the
hollow square to rest. A little after sunset the pursuit terminated
at Charlestown common. A half hour afterward, a powerful body of men
from Marblehead and Salem came up to join in the chase. Thus the
ministerial troops narrowly escaped being cut off. The British loss was
seventy-three killed, and one hundred and seventy-four wounded; that of
the patriots forty-nine killed and thirty-nine wounded.
The cry for vengeance at this desecration of American soil resounded
through the land.--Measures were concerted in council; the outrage was
discussed in cabin and palace, and around the camp-fire of the hunter;
while the voice of supplication from altar and dwelling was heard,
asking the Almighty to bless the patriot cause.
As by common impulse, public attention was turned to the British
fortresses of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, against which retaliatory
measures could be employed with the best effect. As these forts were
located near the homes of the Green Mountain Boys, and their hardy
courage fitted them for a duty of this kind, requests were sent
simultaneously from several of the provinces to Ethan Allen[D] and
his followers to surprise and capture those places. The provincial
Legislature of Connecticut, though not openly sanctioning the invasion,
lent money from its treasury to those engaged in it, and appointed a
committee to assist in raising troops and supervising their management.
The force finally engaging in the expedition was about two hundred and
seventy strong, composed of Green Mountain Rangers, with the exception
of sixteen men from Connecticut and a score or so from Massachusetts.
Towards the close of April, 1775, it was evident something of unusual
interest was transpiring in the Hampshire Grants. The labors of the
farm were neglected at a time when they would require most attention,
and with one accord each sturdy husbandman shouldered his trusty rifle,
and silently betook himself to a journey.
The course of each led through the wilderness toward a central point
near Bennington; and, before long, a motley array of mountaineers, in
rough garb but of tried strength and valor, were gathered as though for
some military exploit. Colonel Ethan Allen was placed at the head of
the expedition,--James Eaton and Seth Warner being second and third in
command: the troops arrived at Shoreham, opposite Fort Ticonderoga, on
the night of the 7th of May. Detachments were sent off to Skenesborough
(now Whitehall), and other points, to secure all the boats they could
find for the transportation of the troops to the opposite shore.
About this time Benedict Arnold appeared among them, thirsting for
military glory. He bore a colonel’s commission from the Massachusetts
committee of safety, and attempted to assume command of the expedition.
The Green Mountain Boys, however, would follow no leader but Allen, and
Arnold was obliged to yield, engaging to act as volunteer, with the
rank but not the command of colonel.
The night of the 9th of May had arrived, but not so the boats for which
detachments had been sent in quest. Yet it was deemed best not to delay
the enterprise, and transportation was commenced with the few boats at
command. The work proceeded slowly; day was about to break when Allen
and Arnold, with only eighty-three men, had crossed. To wait another
day would lead to discovery by the garrison. Allen drew up his men
and announced to them his purpose. “It is a desperate attempt,” said
he, “and I ask no man to go against his will. You who are willing to
follow, poise your firelocks.” Not a soldier shrank from his duty.
Guided by a boy, they mounted the hill silently and at a rapid pace.
Day was breaking as Allen, with Arnold at his left hand, arrived at a
sally port. A sentry snapped his piece at him and retreated, closely
followed by Allen and his men. Another sentinel thrust at Eaton with
his bayonet, but was struck down, when he begged lustily for quarter.
His life was spared on condition of his leading the way instantly to
the quarters of the Commandant who was yet in bed. Allen thundered at
the door, and demanded a surrender of the fort. The Commandant appeared
at the door half dressed, “the frightened face of his pretty wife
appearing over his shoulder.” By this time the Green Mountain Boys had
formed on the parade ground, and were giving vent to hearty cheers. The
garrison were made prisoners as they rushed forth in their confusion,
having been startled out of their sleep. The Commandant was bewildered
at what he beheld, and addressing Allen, cried out, “By what authority
do you act?” “In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental
Congress!” was the reply.
Captain Delaplace with forty-eight of his men, a great supply of much
needed military and naval stores, and a valuable fortress, were among
the trophies of this brilliant dash of inexperienced farmer soldiers.
Colonel Seth Warner, who had now come over from Shoreham with the
residue of the troops, was sent with a detachment against Crown Point,
an express having been previously dispatched to Captain Baker, of
Onion River, forty miles distant, to come with his company to assist.
Captains Warner and Baker appeared before Crown Point nearly at the
same time; the garrison, consisting only of a sergeant and twelve men,
surrendered without firing a gun. Here were taken upward of a hundred
cannon. On his way down, Captain Baker intercepted two small boats
which had been sent to give the alarm to St. Johns, on the Sorel River.
Arnold now insisted on being given the command of the fortress,
as being the only officer clothed with legal authority. Allen was
too popular to be eclipsed by the assumptions of Arnold; and the
Connecticut committee, which had accompanied the enterprise, gave an
instrument in writing investing Allen with full command of the fort
and its dependencies, until he should be in receipt of orders from the
Connecticut Assembly or Continental Congress. Arnold was forced to
content himself, meanwhile, with a statement of his grievances to the
Massachusetts Legislature.
Just at this time a new project was set on foot which had the effect to
appease the restless spirit of Arnold. The detachment originally sent
to Skenesborough arrived with a schooner and several bateaux. Allen and
Arnold arranged to continue their conquests by an attempt to surprise
St. Johns, the frontier post of Canada. Arnold, who had been a seaman
in his youth, took command of the schooner, which had been furnished
with cannon and ammunition from the fort, while Arnold and his Green
Mountain Boys embarked in the bateaux.
Arnold outsailed the other craft, surprised the post of St. Johns, and
made its garrison prisoners; captured the King’s sloop of seventy tons,
with two brass pieces and seven men; took four bateaux and destroyed
several others; and then, learning that troops were on the way from
Montreal and Chamblee, spread his sails to the breeze and swept up the
lake with his prizes and his prisoners, and some valuable stores.
On the way he met Allen and the bateaux. Salutes were exchanged, cannon
answering to musketry. Learning from Arnold the particulars of his
victory, Allen determined to push on and occupy the vacated post. The
Canadian reinforcement had already taken possession on his arrival, so
he returned to Ticonderoga.
This series of brilliant exploits was hailed as if in requital for the
recent acts of British atrocity, and as an omen of a brighter future
for the colonies. To the adherents of the Crown it must have been the
occasion of astonishment and alarm. It drew public attention to the
prowess of the Green Mountain Boys; and their leaders, from being
denominated outlaws, were now extolled as patriots.
The capture of those frontier posts impressed the American people with
a sense of their ability to cope with the disciplined soldiers of
England, and helped some to decide for independence who had trembled in
the balance, and at the same time contributed to render preparations
for defense more prompt and effectual.