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."
"We tried it next day," said Ransom. "It was rainy, and Stark thought it best not to attempt anything more than skirmishing. Our light parties appeared in the woods on every side of the enemy, and picked off the men so fast that the Indians became disheartened, and began to desert Baum. The rain, which prevented our troops from attacking the enemy, enabled them to complete their entrenchments, and send to General Burgoyne for reinforcements; but on the morning of the 16th of August, we found that General Stark and a council of war had agreed upon a plan of attack, and intended to execute it that day. I don't think there was a man among our troops who was not anxious for a fight. Our skirmishes had put us in the humour for it. I can't exactly give you an idea of the position of the enemy, and of the real amount of skill General Stark displayed in his plan of attack. But I'll try to do the best I can. The Germans were posted on a rising ground near a bend in Wallomsac Creek, which is a branch of the Hoosic River. The ground on both sides of the creek is rolling, and the position of the Germans was on the highest of the small hills. Peter's corps of Tories were entrenched on the other side of the creek, nearly in front of the German battery, and on lower ground. During the night of the 15th, Colonel Symonds with about one hundred Berkshire militia, arrived in camp. Parson Allen, who, you may have heard, was such a zealous whig, was with the Berkshire men, and he wanted to fight right off. But General Stark told him if the next day was clear, there would be fighting enough. Well, when the morning of the 16th of August came; it was clear and bright. Both armies seemed to know that day was to decide between them. General Stark had given his orders to all the colonels of his regiments. Colonel Nichols, with our corps of about two hundred men, marched up the little creek just above the bridge, to attack the rear of the enemy's left; while Colonel Herrick, with three hundred men, marched to attack the rear of the right, with orders to join our party before the assault was made. Colonels Hubbard and Stickney were ordered to march down the Wallomsac, with three hundred men, near the Tories, so as to turn Baum's attention to that point. We started about noon, and marched through the thick woods and up from the valley towards the enemy's entrenchments. Our march was rapid and silent, and the enemy didn't see us until we were near. We gave the first volley, and rushed upon them. I saw through the smoke, Colonel Herrick was coming up. We had the Indians between us, and you should have heard them yell, and whoop, and ring their cow-bells, but they wouldn't stand; they fled through our detachments and left the Hessians to shift for themselves. Soon after we commenced the attack, General Stark made that short address you have heard so much about. Josiah Wemyss, one of my old friends, was near the General when he spoke. He told me Stark raised himself in his stirrups, and said: 'See there, men! there are the red-coats; before night they are ours, or Molly Stark will he a widow! Forward!' and they did forward and rush upon the Tories with such force that they drove 'em across the stream, upon the Germans, who were then forced from their breastworks on the heights. Then the battle became general. Such a tremendous fire I never saw before, and never expect to see again. Colonel Baum and his dragoons fought like brave men, and for a long time could not be broken. We attacked them on one side, and Stark on the other, but they stood their ground, and when their powder gave out, Colonel Baum led them to the charge with the sword. But it couldn't last: our men were fighting like mad, and our firelocks brought down the enemy at a tremendous rate. Many of us had no bagonets—I among them, yet we marched up to the Germans just the same as if we had the best arms. At last, the Germans gave way and fled, leaving their artillery and baggage on the field. Our men didn't pursue. You see, General Stark, in order to give the men every inducement to do their best on the field, promised them all the plunder that could be taken from the enemy; and as the Germans fled, we all scattered to seize on what they had left. I had the good luck to get a sword and one of the heavy hats which the dragoons wore. I didn't care much about the value of the things in regard to the money they'd bring, but I thought they'd be somewhat to keep in the family, and make them remember that battle. While I was looking for more things, I caught sight of a man riding at a furious rate towards General Stark. He called out, 'Rally! rally! more Germans! rally!' and sure enough, we saw a large body of the enemy coming out of the woods, in good order. It was the reinforcement Baum had sent for. General Stark had collected a small body of men, when I hurried to join a few of our regiment that Colonel Nichols had rallied. I thought that our victory was about to be snatched from us; but just then Colonel Warner's regiment arrived from Manchester, fresh and well-armed. They attacked the Germans at once, while Stark, with about two hundred of us, pushed forward to aid them. Then began an obstinate struggle, not like the other fight with the Germans and Tories; but a running fight on the hills and plains, just the kind of skrimmage in which a hundred Green Mountain Boys were worth double their number of redcoats. About sunset, the greater part of our men were engaged, and the enemy was beaten in every part of the field. We drove them from the hills down towards Van Shaick's, killing, wounding, and taking prisoners all the time. At Van Shaick's mill they made their last stand. They had placed a small party of Tories in the building, and a party of Germans rallied in front of it. But it was no use, the Germans were driven away and the men in the house forced to surrender. Our men pursued the enemy to the Hoosick, and captured the greater part of 'em. I really believe, if night hadn't come on, we would have taken every man of 'em. But General Stark ordered the men to return, for fear they would fire upon each other in the gloom. Before I came back, however, I caught a Tory lurking near the edge of the woods. Now I hated Tories worse than the Britishers or Germans, and I had a strong notion to shoot him, and I told him so; but he begged hard for his life, and said he never intended to take up arms against his countrymen again: I took him back to our troops and put him with the other prisoners."
"What was the loss of the enemy that day?" enquired Pitts.
"I heard since, that it was nine hundred and thirty-four men, including killed, wounded, and prisoners," replied Ransom. "I recollect we buried two hundred and seven of them. Our own loss was one hundred killed, and about the same number wounded. Besides the prisoners, we took four pieces of brass cannon, more than two hundred and fifty swords, several hundred muskets, several brass drums, and four ammunition wagons. So you see, we had plenty of plunder."
"I suppose the men were not allowed to take any thing but the swords and muskets," said Kinnison.
"Yes, the baggage fell to us," said Ransom, "and all the fixins of the German camp; the cannon, drums, wagons and standards were not taken away."
"I guess that was one of the completest victories ever gained," said Kinnison. "Only to think of militia flogging regulars in that style. What could the enemy expect from our regulars?"
"There's as much credit due to General Stark for that victory, as was ever given to him or as we could give to a general," said Ransom. "If he had not taken command of the troops, there would have been very little resistance to Baum's advance. The plan of attack was formed with great skill, and the general went into the battle with the determination to win it or leave his body on the field. Such a man as John Stark would make soldiers out of cowards."
Mr. Hand here proposed three cheers for General Stark and his Green Mountain Boys, and they were given with a hearty will. One of the young men then announced that he had a song, which had been sung at an anniversary of the battle of Bennington, and which he would now sing, if the company wished it. Of course, the company did wish it, and the young gentleman sang the following words:—
Remember the glories of patriots brave,
Though the days of the heroes are o'er;
Long lost to their country and cold in their grave,
They return to their kindred no more,
The stars of the field, which in victory pour'd
Their beams on the battle are set,
But enough of their glory remains on each sword
To light us to victory yet.
Walloomsack! when nature embellished the tint
Of thy fields and mountains so fair,
Did she ever intend a tyrant should print
The footsteps of slavery there!
No! Freedom, whose smiles we shall never resign,
Told those who invaded our plains,
That 't is sweeter to bleed for an age at thy shrine,
Than to sleep for a moment in chains.
Forget not the chieftain of Hampshire, who stood
In the day of distress by our side;
Nor the heroes who nourished the fields with their blood,
Nor the rights they secured as they died.
The sun that now blesses our eyes with his light,
Saw the martyrs of liberty slain;
O, let him not blush when he leaves us to-night,
To find that they fell there in vain!
Brown and Hanson had prepared their instruments during the singing, and immediately followed it with Washington's march, to which knives and forks kept time.