(1738-1789)
Was Ethan Allen a hero or a humbug? a patriot or a pretender? Ask
Vermont and she cries "Nulli secundus!" Ask New York and the reply is
"Ad referendum."
The differentiation antedates the American Revolution and the part Ethan
Allen played in that historic drama. It is an inheritance of loving
loyalty and gratitude that quivers in the answer of one State, the
traditional antagonisms of prejudice that speak in the other.
But for Ethan Allen, Vermont would have had no separate existence. But
for Ethan Allen, New York's northeastern boundary would have been the
Connecticut River. Therefore, on one shore of Lake Champlain the
disputed shield is unalloyed gold, reflecting all that is strong and
brave, all that is courageous and magnanimous, all that is patriotic and
generous, while from the other shore its appearance is as brass engraven
by vanity and vulgarity, by self-sufficiency and infidelity.
[Illustration: Ethan Allen.]
Controversy over property rights engenders such diversities of opinion,
and when, as in this case, one side gains all and the other loses much,
the exultation of triumph or the bitterness of defeat will color the ink
of all literature on the subject for a century to come.
Not until after the year 1761 did the dense wilderness of either
Northern New York, or what was then considered Western New Hampshire,
prove attractive to the Yankee or Dutch settler in search of a pioneer
home. The cruel conflicts that for over seventy years had made these
border lands the scene of bloody race enmities were ended by the
conquest of Canada. These primeval forests, that had echoed only to the
tread of skulking savages, or the revengeful tramp of opposing forces,
became peaceful spots for the erection of hearth-stones around which
women and children might gather in safety. Many of the Connecticut
soldiery who had taken active part in the late French and Indian wars,
now recalled the beautiful country through which they had marched to
meet or pursue the foe, the grandeur of its evergreen mountain peaks,
the limpid sheets of water nestling between, its sparkling fish-laden
streams, and the apparent fertility of its soil.
These recollections were stimulated by the conditions which confronted
them on their return to peaceful and agricultural pursuits. The
subdivision of farms among the many robust sons of the average New
England household had reached its limit, and the young man who would
found a home and family of his own, thenceforth must seek for cheaper
and broader acres than were to be found already under cultivation. New
Hampshire's liberal offer of grants in her western border upon easy
terms, decided the future of many a New England lad, and for several
years the tide of emigration rolled steadily northward.
From Burlington, on Lake Champlain, for one hundred miles south to
Bennington, the sound of the axe was heard by day and by night. The
enthusiasms of a new country lent strength to the arm and courage to the
heart. In every direction homes sprang up, surrounded by young orchards,
and beyond and around these, cultivated fields.
Suddenly the settlers were set to wondering and worrying at the sight of
strange surveyors taking new measurements through the farms wrenched
from the wilds with so much of hard labor and wearisome toil. And then
the blow fell. New York was claiming all this tract of land as part of
her province, and declaring New Hampshire grants to be null and void. A
second payment for their farms was demanded, based upon their present
value as improved property.
In some cases new owners put in an appearance and attempted to take
possession, having purchased, in good faith, of land speculators in New
York City, to whom Governor Colden, of New York, had issued immense
grants covering a large part of the disputed territory. These
speculators were mostly lawyers, who were favorites or friends of the
governor. Against these shrewd men of wealth and education, with their
powerful backing, the puny defence of the original settlers seemed
wellnigh hopeless. But it was to be a contest between might and right,
and that invisible influence which seems ever to weaken the one and
strengthen the other was surely, though silently at work.
Upon this scene of trouble and uncertainty appears Ethan Allen, a
farmer, born about thirty years before in Coventry, Conn., large of
frame, of great personal strength, and with mental characteristics in
harmony with his powerful physique: a tender-hearted giant whose
standard of honor and honesty soon measured the injustice of New York's
position in the land controversy, and at once sided with the besieged
farmers, with whom he had many generalities of sympathy.
With fiery energy of will and purpose, he immediately assumed the
leadership of the defence, guiding its combined strength into the legal
side of the question, thus meeting the power of alleged law with like
weapons. Selecting the best legal talent of Connecticut as assistants,
and armed with New Hampshire's charter and seal, he appeared in the
Albany courts to contest New York's claim that the Connecticut River was
the boundary between that province and New Hampshire.
But the trial was a farce, stripped of all dignity and justice by the
fact that the judge upon the bench, the prosecuting attorneys, and other
officials were personally interested, each holding New York grants for
many thousand acres in the disputed territory. All evidence for the
defence, even the New Hampshire charter, was ruled out of court, and
Ethan Allen's peaceful efforts for defence were defeated.
He returned home, burning with indignation and resolving to protect his
property and that of his neighbors, if need were, by the force of his
own strong right arm. For six years, under his leadership, all attempts
by New York settlers to take possession were frustrated by the alertness
of the "Green Mountain Boys," as the defence now termed themselves, who
drove them off quietly or with violence, according to the exigencies of
the occasion.
As a measure of punishment for these acts, Ethan Allen was outlawed by
the Governor of New York, and a price offered for his capture. Soon
after he rode alone into Albany one day, and alighting at a tavern in
the heart of the city, called for refreshment. His former visit had
marked his strong personality in the remembrance of many, and he was at
once recognized by prominent officials, who stared at him with
curiosity, but made no effort to arrest him. Returning their gaze, he
lifted his glass to his lips, pledging in a loud, firm voice "The Green
Mountain Boys," and then rode away unmolested.
This act was defined by his friends as the rashness of bravery; by his
enemies as the madness of impudence.
But the cloud overhanging the shores of Lake Champlain was but a shadow
compared with the darkness of the storm brooding over the whole region
south and east of it, and the battle of Lexington ended this local
strife.
Thenceforth, Ethan Allen was to bid defiance, not to a State, but to a
nation. To him and his Green Mountain Boys came urgent appeals from
leading patriots of the American Revolution for help and support in the
coming struggle, and the answer was more than kindly assent and promise:
it was prompt and vigorous action--the first aggressive blow at the
power of Great Britain, for the musket-shots that harassed the
retreating red-coats from Concord were those of spirited defence rather
than of deliberate attack.
As the fortress of Ticonderoga had been the key of the position in the
late French and Indian wars, the gain or loss of which meant either
overwhelming victory or disaster, so now it was deemed of equal
importance in the coming conflict, which inevitably would bring the
British foe upon them from the North, along the same familiar war-path.
The capture of this fort was a serious undertaking, for it was well
garrisoned by a company of British soldiers, and thoroughly equipped for
vigorous defense. Only the keenest strategy and the most complete
surprise would avail in the accomplishment of the task.
But the experience and ability of Ethan Allen--who had been unanimously
chosen as leader--was adequate to the occasion, and his plans were made
with the greatest secrecy and skill. One of his men was detailed to gain
admission to the fort on some pretext, and then by skilfully acting the
part of a greenhorn full of foolish questions, to learn many important
facts and necessary details. In addition, a lad was found thoroughly
familiar with the interior of the garrison, who would serve as guide,
and on the night of May 9, 1775, 270 American patriots appeared on the
shore opposite Fort Ticonderoga, which was on the west or New York side
of Lake Champlain.
A day or two previous a small force of men had been despatched secretly
to points above and below this spot in quest of boats, which failing
them, in this emergency only 83 of the 270 men could be accommodated in
the limited number at hand. Spring lingers long in this latitude, and
the night, clear and cold, was giving way to dawn when the brave leader
and his little vanguard of heroes resolved to attack without further
re-enforcement. According to military precedent, he first harangued his
followers.
"Friends and fellow-soldiers, you have for a number of years been a
scourge and a terror to arbitrary power. Your valor has been famed
abroad and acknowledged, as appears by the advice and orders to me from
the General Assembly of Connecticut to surprise and take the garrison
now before us. I now propose to advance before you and in person conduct
you through the wicket gate; for we must this morning either quit our
pretensions to valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few
minutes. And inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none but the
bravest men dare undertake, I do not urge it on any contrary to his
will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelock!"
Needless to state, the firelocks were all "poised"--whatever that may
be--and, led by Allen, a rush was made, the sentry overpowered, and
soon the gallant "83" were standing back to back on the parade-ground
within the fort, their muskets levelled at the two barracks which,
filled with sleeping soldiers, faced each other.
The commandant was then aroused by loud rapping on his door and the
voice of Allen bidding him come out and surrender the fort. The
astonished officer, half dressed, made his appearance, demanding by what
authority he was asked to do such a thing.
A part of Ethan Allen's famous reply: "In the name of Jehovah and the
Continental Congress!" was more prophetic than authentic, as the latter
earthly tribunal at that time had no existence.
The hundred cannon and quantities of ammunition found in the fort were
sent east, where they proved of great service in the siege of Boston.
Crown Point, the garrison of St. Johns, many boats, vessels, and a
British armed schooner soon after fell into the hands of the Green
Mountain Boys, thus giving them the full sweep of Lake Champlain, and
holding in check any attempts at invasion from that direction.
Ethan Allen's military instincts and foresight transcended any
experience and all knowledge he possessed on the subject. He at once saw
the importance of pushing the advantage now gained, by an immediate
advance upon Canada before reinforcements could arrive to strengthen the
strongholds of Montreal and Quebec; a measure which, if adopted, would
have changed the whole history of the northern campaign that eventually
proved so disastrous.
With the splendid magnanimity of a noble soul and the abnegation of a
true patriot, he addressed the Continental Congress of New York on the
subject, first apologizing for his seeming neglect to consult with that
body before his attack on Ticonderoga, which was within its province,
and explaining the necessity for secrecy, which prompted him. Note the
spirit of prophecy breathed in the following words:
"I wish to God America would at this critical juncture exert herself
agreeable to the indignity offered her by a tyrannical ministry. She
might rise on eagle's wings and mount up to glory, freedom, and immortal
honor if she did but know and exert her strength. Fame is now hovering
over her head. A vast continent must now sink to slavery, poverty, and
bondage, or rise to unconquerable freedom, immense wealth, inexpressible
felicity, and immortal fame."
He then offers the services of his own men for the purpose, and to raise
a regiment of rangers in Northern New York, a proposal which he trusts
will not be deemed impertinent.
[Illustration: Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga.]
But for some unexplained reason no action was taken on his suggestions
until months later, when the conditions had materially changed, making
such a campaign exceedingly more difficult. Generals Schuyler and
Montgomery were then in command, and to Ethan Allen was given a task
requiring shrewdness, tact, and great personal influence--to enlist the
co-operation or the neutrality of the Canadians in the struggle between
the American colonists and the mother country. For weeks he travelled in
Canada, "preaching politics" so successfully that he was able to
report a company of 300 Canadian recruits for the American service, and
that 2,000 more could be enlisted when needed.
In returning from this expedition he was persuaded by a brother officer
into a step that but for an accident would have been more brilliant than
Allen's former exploit and added fresh laurels to his name as a military
hero. It was no less than the surprise and capture of Fort Montreal,
then garrisoned by 500 men, 40 only of whom were regulars, the remainder
volunteers and Indians.
It seemed a feasible undertaking. The plan was similar to the seizure of
Ticonderoga--the quiet landing of boats under the walls of the fort
before daybreak and the quick rush of attack. The forces were divided,
Allen taking 110 men and landing below the city. The remainder and
larger portion were to cross the river above and then signal the others.
Colonel Allen promptly performed his part of the programme, but no
signal greeted his ears, and daylight found him in full view of the fort
and unable to retreat. He and his men for two hours bravely resisted the
enemy, who sallied out to attack them, but without avail, and they were
taken prisoners.
The story of Ethan Allen's long captivity, lasting two years and eight
months, as told by himself, is one of the most interesting narratives
connected with the Revolutionary war. Loaded with chains, consigned to
the filthy hold of a vessel, with no seat nor bed save a seaman's chest,
half starved, tortured by daily indignities, his high courage and brave
spirit never faltered. Once, when insulted, he sprang at his
tormentor--the captain of the ship--and with his shackled hands knocked
him down; and again he bit off the nail that fastened his handcuffs, and
by these feats of strength and anger awed his guards into some show of
respect.
The method by which he saved himself from a felon's death in England was
worthy the dignity of a veteran diplomat. A letter to the Continental
Congress, which he knew would never reach its destination, but fall into
the hands of its bitterest enemy, Lord North, contained an account of
his ill treatment and possible fate, and closed with the request that if
retaliation upon the Tory and other prisoners in its power should be
found necessary, it might be exercised not according to his own value or
rank, but in proportion to the importance of the cause for which he
suffered.
The English ministry concluded evidently to treat him henceforth as a
prisoner of war entitled to an honorable exchange, rather than a rebel
deserving an ignoble death, and he was returned to America, where he was
confined, with varieties of usage, in Halifax, and afterward in New
York.
While in the latter place, and suffering from hunger and long ill
health, he was approached by a British officer, authorized to offer him
the command of a royalist regiment, and the gift of thousands of acres
of land at the close of the war, in any part of the American colonies he
might select, providing he would forsake the patriot cause and take oath
of allegiance to the crown. Colonel Allen rejected this overture with
great scorn, assuring the officer that he had as little land to promise
him as had the devil when making a similar one.
"Thereupon," said Allen, "he closed the conversation and turned from me
with an air of dislike, saying I was a bigot."
An exchange of prisoners at length freed him from a situation so full of
personal hardship and mental anguish, and he hastened home to his
family, from whom he so long and cruelly had been separated.
His only son had died in the meantime, and his wife and daughters, not
expecting his arrival, were not at Bennington in time to receive him.
But his neighbors and friends flocked in from miles around to give him
greeting, and although it was the Sabbath, a day strictly observed in
those parts, the enthusiasm of the joyful occasion could neither be
postponed nor suppressed, and its expression found vent in the firing of
cannon and happy huzzas.
The "Hampshire Grants" in his absence had become the full-fledged "State
of Vermont," knocking for admission at the doors of the Continental
Congress.
Ethan Allen at once was appointed General of the Vermont State Militia,
and although he did not again join the American army, his natural gifts
of diplomacy were of inestimable service to the country, and the number
of men he could summon at a moment's notice to his command, served to
hold in check any attempted raids of the enemy through Canada. He lived
eight years after the declaration of peace, dying at the age of
fifty-one, in Burlington, where he was engaged in farming.
A little incident never before in print was recently related to the
writer of this sketch by a lady to whom it was told in childhood by an
old man who, as a lad, lived on Ethan Allen's farm. It was in
illustration of the simplicity of the celebrated hero's private life.
The farm hands all sat at the table with the family, much to the
amusement or astonishment of his frequent guests, who sometimes were
wealthy and distinguished and quite unaccustomed to such practical
exhibitions of democracy. One of these had the poor taste to expostulate
with the general, and remarked, "I should think your men would prefer to
eat by themselves."
General Allen feigned to misunderstand the meaning of this, and after a
moment's reflection replied, "Thank you very much for calling my
attention to it. I see that what has been hearty enough for my family
may not have been for my hard-working help. I will take more notice
hereafter to see that they are better served."
"It was little use," says my informant, "to try to dictate to Ethan
Allen."
[Signature: Gertrude Van Rensselaer Wickham.]