THE WESTMINSTER MASSACRE
What March 5, 1770, had been to the people of Boston and the Colony of
Massachusetts, March 14, 1775, was destined to become to the patriot
citizens of Vermont. That date reminds them to-day of the first blood
shed in the great struggle within the borders of the Grants--the first
pitched battle between American yeomanry and the minions of a cruel and
tyrannical king. Before the martyrs were shot down at Lexington was the
Westminster Massacre--an incident which set the torch to the passions of
the Whigs throughout the Grants.
Despite the efforts of Judge Chandler, who really was honestly bent on
peace, the associate Judge Sabin and the fire-eating sheriff brought
about that clash of arms, the stain of which was to be wiped out by
nearly eight years of bitter war. The Tory officials and their henchmen
gathered about the court-house when it was known that the Whigs had
seized it, and threatened an attack early in the evening of the 13th;
but apparently willing to abide by the decision of the chief justice,
they dispersed after that worthy had promised the Whigs that nothing
should be done to oust them from the premises until the following day.
Chandler doubtless went to his repose, believing that his partisans
would uphold him in his promise.
But the sheriff had other views. He had gathered a noble army at John
Norton's inn. There were no Whigs there that night. They sought other
houses of entertainment, or their own homes, for their leaders had
counseled moderation. But the wily sheriff finally gave his orders, and
those orders were inspired by Judge Sabin and other rank Tories.
Separating as they issued from the inn into three bodies, the sheriff's
men approached the guarded court-house from as many directions and were
thundering at the doors before the Whigs were aware that such treachery
was intended. There was not a fire-arm in the court-house, but when
called upon to surrender the guard refused and strove to barricade the
entrance.
Although the young men had expected nothing like this, they had not
taken their duty lightly. They were of the best Whig families of the
neighborhood and had not accepted the responsibility as a lark. Enoch
became acquainted with one of his companions early in the evening who,
because of his open face, free and gentle manner, and earnest
conversation impressed the Bennington boy as being a youth of better
parts than were most of the backwoods people. Lot told his guest that
this individual was William French, the son of a Mr. Nathaniel French, a
man well known and respected highly by his neighbors. Like Lot, young
French was deeply interested in the affairs of the colonies, especially
in what was occurring in and about Boston. He had planned to go to the
Massachusetts colony and offer his services to the Committee of Safety
there if war really became imminent, though he would go, Enoch saw, in a
much different spirit from Lot's. Lot was eager for a fight for the
fight's sake; but French realized the root of the trouble and espoused
the cause of the persecuted colonists from principle.
It was eleven o'clock at night when the sheriff and his men attacked the
Whig guards, and many of the latter were asleep. The uproar was great as
the besieged tried to keep the Tories out of the building; but the
latter were reckless and knew that they had to do with a practically
helpless enemy. They forced an entrance, though the Whigs rallied well
and delivered some telling blows with their clubs. These blows doubtless
had much to do with what followed, for the sheriff's men became greatly
incensed. All the lights in the house were put out and for several
moments the antagonists fought in the dark. Enoch was not behind in the
battle and was one of those in the front rank which strove to beat the
sheriff's men back to the door. William French fought next him, while he
could hear his friend Lot shouting encouragement not far away.
The Tories were under a disadvantage in the dark and some of those still
without ran with torches and thrust them in, that the battleground might
be illumined. At that the sheriff, spurred by rage and the smart of a
blow he had received, cried to his men: "Fire! Fire at the rascals who
defy the law's authority!"
Some of his men took him at his word and putting their pieces to their
shoulders, they had been using them as clubs, shot blank-point into the
group of opposing Whigs!
It was a terrible scene that followed. Several men fell about Enoch, and
groans and cries rose from the wounded. A bullet had sent Enoch's cap
spinning into the air, but he did not notice that. Young William French
had fallen beside him and the Bennington boy stooped and caught the
young man's head and shoulders from the floor that he might not be
trampled upon.
Shouts and imprecations deafened him. The Whigs still fought, but some
had already tried to escape by a side passage and were being brought
back by the sheriff's men. That wicked man was calling upon the Whigs to
surrender, and more than one shot was fired after that first volley.
Enoch, with the head of the bleeding youth in his arms, cried to those
about him to move aside and bring a light. All were too much inflamed by
passion to heed him for a time; but suddenly one man sprang forward and
thrust a huge, brass-locked pistol into his own face. The boy was
frightened, and strove to throw himself backward out of range; but the
pistol snapped!
Providentially the weapon was either unloaded, or the powder was damp.
Otherwise that moment would have ended Enoch Harding's earthly career.
And in the flash of torchlight which was an instant later cast upon the
scene, the startled boy recognized the dark features and hawk nose of
Simon Halpen. The villain had sought him out and had striven to pay off
old scores in that moment of confusion and uproar.
But the confusion helped Enoch to escape, too. Lot seized his shoulder
and dragged him up from his knees. "Let him alone, poor chap!" he
whispered hoarsely in his friend's ear, and Enoch saw that he was
crying, "Let him alone. He is dead. Oh, these villains shall be punished
for this--they shall be punished! War has begun, Nuck--and we have seen
its beginning!" In his horror and despair Lot Breckenridge was
prophetic. War had begun; the first blood of the revolution--antedating
in its sacrifice the Battle of Lexington--had been shed.
Indeed, Lot and Enoch were fortunate to escape from the building, for
ten of the Whigs had been wounded beside poor French, and seven of the
remaining were taken prisoner. The town was roused and a great concourse
of people gathered in the streets. The sheriff and his men were loudly
execrated, and even some of the Tories expressed their indignation. The
men who had done the deed were forced to remain under cover for the rest
of the night while the alarm went into all the countryside and by
daybreak the patriot farmers were pouring into Westminster--a horde of
indignant citizens before whom the Tory officials trembled.
The very judges themselves were taken into custody and had not the
better counsel of the staid and solid men prevailed, the sheriff and
those who aided him might have been hung to a gibbet erected in the
court-house yard. On the fifteenth Captain Cochran and forty Green
Mountain Boys, who had been apprised of the terrible affair, marched
over the mountain to arraign themselves upon the side of the Whigs if
the matter should come to real warfare. But fortunately further
bloodshed was averted, and never again did a Tory judiciary hold court
in Eastern Vermont.
Enoch went back to Bennington with some of Robert Cochran's company.
News of the Westminster affair had preceded him and the Catamount Inn
was thronged with earnest men discussing the matter and various other
news-packets which had lately come from other colonies. War with the
mother country seemed inevitable and Ethan Allen and men of his stamp
looked forward to it not without some eagerness. It was not that they
were reckless and irresponsible, or did not understand the terrible
situation in which the colonies might find themselves should the mother
country send across the sea a great army. But in the coming struggle
they beheld the salvation of their own people and of the Hampshire
Grants.
Therefore, perhaps even previous to this time, immediately following the
Westminster Massacre, these leaders had earnestly discussed the
possibilities of war and what the Green Mountain Boys could do to
further the cause of the colonies. On the shores of the beautiful lake
which was the colonists' boast, were two of the strongest fortresses--or
two which had been and could be made again the strongest--of the New
World, Ticonderoga and Crown Point. At Old Ti were many stores and
munitions of war and the place was held by a comparatively small guard
of red-coats who had a great contempt for, and therefore small
appreciation of, the valor of the colonials.
With these circumstances in mind Old Ti was already an object of the
conferences of Vermont's leading men. Possessing that fortress, Crown
Point, and Skenesboro, the lake would be free of British and the way to
Canada open; and at that early date it was strongly believed by the
patriots that the French descendants of the early settlers of Canada
would join the Colonies in their fight for freedom.
Young Enoch Harding did not see the leaders as he passed through
Bennington; but he was waylaid there a dozen times, and upon his road
home, to satisfy the curiosity and interest of his neighbors in the
Westminster trouble. Letters from Boston had roused them to the highest
pitch, too. Nor were his mother and Bryce any less anxious to hear and
discuss the news. Mistress Harding had lived within a few miles of
Boston and felt a deep interest still in the people and the affairs of
the Massachusetts Colony. That a foreign soldiery should have been
landed on her shores fired even this good and gentle woman with anger,
and when Bryce said he'd go to Boston, too, along with Lot Breckenridge,
if there was war, she did not say him nay.
But the Hardings had little time to waste upon politics. The boys had to
drop the drilling soon, too, for it came ploughing and seed time. 'Siah
Bolderwood remained about the settlement rather later than usual that
year; and mainly for the reason that public affairs were so strained. He
said his own crop of corn which he intended putting into the lot near
Old Ti upon which he "had let the light of day" could wait a bit, under
the circumstances, for there might be occasion to "beat his ploughshare
into a sword" before corn-planting time.
Therefore he was still with the Hardings that day late in April when
Ethan Allen, riding out of Bennington into the north to carry a torch
which should fire every farm and hamlet with patriotic fervor, reined in
his steed at the door of the farmhouse. The children saw the great man
coming and ran from the fields with Bolderwood, while the widow appeared
at her door and welcomed Colonel Allen.
"Will you 'light, sir?" she asked him. "It has been long since you
favored us with a visit."
"And long will it be ere I come again, perhaps, Mistress Harding. I am
like Sampson--I have taken an oath. And mine is not to rest, nor to give
this critter rest, until I have spoken to as many true men in these
Grants as may be seen in a week. The time has come to act!"
"Reckon I'd better be joggin' erlong toward Old Ti, heh, Colonel?"
remarked the ranger, leaning an elbow on the pommel of the saddle.
"You had, 'Siah, you had. We can depend upon you, and those red-coated
rascals there must be kept unsuspicious and their fears--if they have
any--lulled to sleep. I have one man already who proposes to put his
head in the Lion's mouth and return--providing the jaws do not close on
him--to tell us in what state the old pile of stone is kept."
"But what has started you out so suddenly, Colonel Allen?" demanded the
widow.
"What! have ye not heard? There was a packet came from Boston
yesterday."
"We have seen nobody this week," declared Enoch.
"There has been blood shed, friends," said the giant, earnestly, his
eyes flashing and the color in his cheek deepening. "American freemen
have been shot down like sheep in the slaughter!"
"Where? Who were killed? What was the cause? Who did it?" were some of
the queries hurled at their informant by the little group.
"Fifty men, they say, were murdered. At Lexington, in Massachusetts.
There were munitions stored there belonging to the militia. The British
got word of it and marched from Boston to destroy the goods. They fired
on our people at the bridge and when the poor fellows broke and ran they
followed and potted them like rabbits! War has begun, friends. Nothing
under the blue canopy can stop it now. American blood has been shed and
I tell you it is but the beginning of the flood which must pour from our
veins until these colonies are free!"
"Oh, Colonel! you do not believe that?" cried the widow. "Surely this
trouble can be averted. Calmer and more honest men will gain control and
prevail. War is an awful thing."
"True, Widow Harding. And well may you say it who have two sons to give
for freedom. But mark my words, madam! Those two boys of yours will be
needed, and if the Almighty spares them they will be some years older
before either side in this controversy gives in.... Now friends, I must
away. You know what is expected of you, 'Siah. Young Nuck, you'll be
wanted at Bennington to-morrow."
"Oh, shall our people really attack Ticonderoga?" cried Kate. "The
schoolmaster says that is the strongest fortress in the Colonies."
"Your schoolmaster is a bit of a Tory, I fear, miss," said Allen,
smiling down upon her. "We shall have to 'view' him if he tells such
tales in school," and waving his gauntleted hand he rode swiftly away
from the homestead.
"I am off at once, folks," said 'Siah, beginning to make his pack for
the journey. "I'll see you up near Old Ti, Nuck, for the Colonel means
business sure! We may have some such doin's up there as your father and
I had under Rogers and Old Put years ago."
He went away shortly and there was little the Hardings could do that day
but talk over the wonderful news and let their fancy run upon the
future. The widow saw that coming which she had feared for months, but
she was cheerful. Nuck must go on this expedition to Lake Champlain, and
she said it with unshaken voice. Bryce was to remain to guard the home,
for there was no knowing what the result of the attack on Old Ti might
be.
The alarming intelligence brought by Colonel Allen had its effect upon
the younger members of the family as well as on the older, for late in
the afternoon Harry came running to his mother with the information that
there was a man lurking in the forest across the creek. The child had
seen the stranger twice and being fearful that the man was there for no
good purpose was much troubled. The older boys were in the field at
work, but when the widow blew the horn Enoch came up to learn the cause,
for it was not yet supper time. Hearing Harry's report he seized his
rifle and went to the creek bank, approaching the spot very carefully,
for he feared at once that their enemy, Simon Halpen, might have dared
follow him from Westminster.
He had scarcely reached the creek, however, when he was apprised of the
identity of the visitor. A head, in the black locks of which a tuft of
eagle feathers was fastened, appeared above the bushes, and the next
moment the person thus betrayed came out into full view and beckoned
him. It was Crow Wing who had approached the Harding place through the
forest. Enoch leaped into his own boat and paddled across, remembering
the Indian's promise the year before to visit him at some time for the
purpose of examining the vicinity of the spot where Jonas Harding had
been slain.