The story of the capture of Fort Ticonderoga by the Robin Hood of the
New Hampshire Grants.
As affairs were now drawing to a crisis, and war was considered
inevitable, some bold spirits in Connecticut conceived a project for
the outset. This was the surprisal of the old forts of Ticonderoga and
Crown Point, already famous in the French war. Their situation on Lake
Champlain gave them the command of the main route to Canada; so that
the possession of them would be all-important in case of hostilities.
They were feebly garrisoned and negligently guarded, and abundantly
furnished with, artillery and military stores so much needed by the
patriot army.
This scheme was set on foot in the purlieus, as it were, of the
provincial Legislature of Connecticut, then in session. It was not
openly sanctioned by that body, but secretly favored, and money lent
from the treasury to those engaged in it. A committee was appointed,
also, to accompany them to the frontier, aid them in raising troops,
and exercise over them a degree of superintendence and control.
Sixteen men were thus enlisted in Connecticut, a greater number in
Massachusetts, but the greatest accession of force was from what
was called the “New Hampshire Grants.” This was a region having the
Connecticut River on one side and Lake Champlain and the Hudson River
on the other--being, in fact, the country forming the present State
of Vermont. It had long been a disputed territory claimed by New York
and New Hampshire. George II had decided in favor of New York; but
the Governor of New Hampshire had made grants of between one and two
hundred townships in it, whence it had acquired the name of the New
Hampshire Grants. The settlers on those grants resisted the attempts
of New York to eject them, and formed themselves into an association
called “The Green Mountain Boys.” Resolute, strong-handed fellows
they were, with Ethan Allen at their head, a native of Connecticut,
but brought up among the Green Mountains. He and his lieutenants,
Seth Warner and Remember Baker, were outlawed by the Legislature of
New York, and rewards offered for their apprehension. They and their
associates armed themselves, set New York at defiance, and swore they
would be the death of any one who should attempt their arrest.
Thus Ethan Allen was becoming a kind of Robin Hood among the mountains,
when the present crisis changed the relative position of things as
if by magic. Boundary feuds were forgotten amid the great questions
of colonial rights. Ethan Allen at once stepped forward, a patriot,
and volunteered with his Green Mountain Boys to serve in the popular
cause. He was well fitted for the enterprise in question, by his
experience as a frontier champion, his robustness of mind and body, and
his fearless spirit. He had a kind of rough eloquence, also, that was
very effective with his followers. “His style,” says one, who knew him
personally, “was a singular compound of local barbarisms, Scriptural
phrases, and oriental wildness; and though unclassic, and sometimes
ungrammatical, was highly animated and forcible.” Washington, in one
of his letters, says there was “an original something in him which
commanded admiration.”
Thus reinforced, the party, now two hundred and seventy strong, pushed
forward to Castleton, a place within a few miles of the head of Lake
Champlain. Here a council of war was held on the 2d of May. Ethan
Allen was placed at the head of the expedition, with James Easton and
Seth Warner as second and third in command. Detachments were sent
off to Skenesborough (now Whitehall), and another place on the lake,
with orders to seize all the boats they could find and bring them to
Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga, whither Allen prepared to proceed with
the main body.
At this juncture another adventurous spirit arrived at Castleton. This
was Benedict Arnold, since so sadly renowned. He, too, had conceived
the project of surprising Ticonderoga and Crown Point; or, perhaps, had
caught the idea from its first agitators in Connecticut--in the militia
of which province he held a captain’s commission. He had proposed the
scheme to the Massachusetts committee of safety. It had met their
approbation. They had given him a colonel’s commission, authorized him
to raise a force in western Massachusetts not exceeding four hundred
men, and furnished him with money and means. Arnold had enlisted but a
few officers and men when he heard of the expedition from Connecticut
being on the march. He instantly hurried on with one attendant to
overtake it, leaving his few recruits to follow as best they could; in
this way he reached Castleton just after the council of war.
Producing the colonel’s commission received from the Massachusetts
committee of safety, he now aspired to the supreme command. His claims
were disregarded by the Green Mountain Boys; they would follow no
leader but Ethan Allen. As they formed the majority of the party,
Arnold was fain to acquiesce, and serve as a volunteer, with the rank,
but not the command, of colonel.
The party arrived at Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga, on the night of
the 9th of May. The detachment sent in quest of boats had failed to
arrive. There were a few boats at hand, with which the transportation
was commenced. It was slow work; the night wore away; day was about to
break, and but eighty-three men, with Allen and Arnold, had crossed.
Should they wait for the residue, day would dawn, the garrison wake,
and their enterprise might fail. Allen drew up his men, addressed
them in his own emphatic style, and announced his intention to make a
dash at the fort without waiting for more force. “It is a desperate
attempt,” said he, “and I ask no man to go against his will. I will
take the lead, and be the first to advance. You that are willing to
follow, poise your firelocks.” Not a firelock but was poised.
They mounted the hill briskly but in silence, guided by a boy from the
neighborhood. The day dawned as Allen arrived at a sally-port. A sentry
pulled trigger on him, but his piece missed fire. He retreated through
a covered way. Allen and his men followed. Another sentry thrust at
Easton with his bayonet, but was struck down by Allen and begged for
quarter. It was granted on condition of his leading the way instantly
to the quarters of the commandant, Captain Delaplace, who was yet in
bed. Being arrived there, Allen thundered at the door, and demanded
a surrender of the fort. By this time his followers had formed into
two lines on the parade-ground, and given three hearty cheers. The
commandant appeared at his door half dressed, “the frightened face
of his pretty wife peering over his shoulder.” He gazed at Allen in
bewildered astonishment. “By whose authority do you act?” exclaimed
he. “In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress,”
replied Allen, with a flourish of his sword, and an oath which we do
not care to subjoin.
There was no disputing the point. The garrison, like the commander, had
been startled from sleep, and made prisoners as they rushed forth in
their confusion. A surrender accordingly took place.