University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.

If there is a town in Vermont whose first set of
inhabitants deserved the appellation of high-minded
and worthy, it was the early settlers of Middlebury.
Distinguished, from their first pitch on the fertile
banks of the Otter, for enterprise, firmness and intelligence,
they were among the foremost to resist
the aggressions of a government, which, unwittingly,
perhaps, had lent itself to aid the unprincipled
schemes of a few rapacious land speculators; while the
opening scenes of our revolution found them ready
to engage, with the same alacrity, and with the best
of their means, in the greater work of achieving the
independence of their whole country. And scarcely
had the storm of war passed over, and the sunlight
of peace begun to break in on their infant settlement,
before they united, with a zeal as extraordinary,
considering their circumstances and means,
as it was commendable, in rearing, by private munificence
alone, a collegiate institution, which for many
succeeding years did more, probably, towards elevating
the moral and literary character of Vermont,
than any one cause operating within her borders.
And her alumni, now many of them in eminence at
the bar, and in the pulpit, and found gracing not only
every station in their own favored country, from
the humble school room, to the senate chamber of
the nation, but nobly dispensing her light among the

people of every clime upon the face of the broad
earth, whither, in the fearless and enterprising spirit
of their fathers, they have scattered themselves,—
now to teach the arts to the boorish Russ, or besotted
Turk, now to assist the enslaved Greek, or South
American, in his struggles for freedom, and now to
rear the standard of the Cross among the degraded
pagans of the East—her grateful alumni, often, often,
turn back, in fancy, to their beloved Alma mater,
and admire, and bless the noble and self sacrificing
spirit of Painter, Chipman, Storrs, and others of her
munificent founders, who made themselves poor in
pecuniary estate, that the children of their country
might become rich in knowledge.

With these remarks, suggested by the location of
the scene about to be described, and their expression
here promted by the personal interest which
the writer of these unworthy pages must ever feel in
that institution, in which he was taught at once his
weakness and his strength, and to which he is mainly
indebted for the schooling and chastening of a
wild and untutored imagination, and for the formation
of whatever mental character he may possess;
with these remarks, we say, let us now proceed in
the narration of our story.

Could one of the fabled scenes drawn by the immortal
Homer have been so far realized, on the 4th
of May 1775, that Mars, the supposed supervisor of
every military enterprise, had sat in his cloud-begirt
chariot over that tract of country lying between
lake Champlain and the Green mountains, to take
note of whatever in his line of business might be on
foot below, he might have perceived, on looking
down from his lofty car, near the close of that day,

movements among the inhabitants of the particular
section just named, so simultaneous, and yet so apparently
unconcerted, that even his Godship, himself,
unless previously in the secret, would have
been sadly puzzled to decide in what manner to account
for them. Nearly every man could have been
seen leaving his home for some point not far to the
south of those falls on Otter Creek, around which
the flourishing village of Middlebury now stands.
Though all would have seemed gradually centering
to this spot, yet this would have been the only point
of agreement discoverable in their movements, or apparent
objects. Some carried axes on their shoulders,
some hoes, or other implements of husbandry,
and some had guns, with which they appeared to be
amusing themselves, as they passed along, by shooting
squirrels, or whatever small game might fall in
their way. And, in no instance, were two men seen
travelling together; and, if by chance, any two happened
to come across each other, they immediately
separated, one stopping till the other had passed out
of sight, or both diverging into different, though parallel
routes. The exact point of their concentration
was at length seen to be an opening in the wilderness,
on a gentle swell of land, commanding a view
of the devious Otter from its western side. Near the
centre of this opening stood a log house tenanted by
a hardy and enterprising settler, a confidential friend
of the master spirit of this clandestine gathering.
A barn also of the same construction, and of dimensions
ample enough to hold half a regiment within
its walls, was standing some rods in the rear of
the house. This huge fabric, as it finally appeared,
had been selected, both on account of its size, and
the cental position which it occupied in the northern
part of the Grants, for the approaching meeting
of the Green Mountain Boys. And as the shades
of evening began to gather over the wilderness, and
individual objects grew indistinct to the view, many
a dark form might be discovered emerging, one by
one, from every point of the surrounding woods, and
stealthily taking their way in silence towards the
building appointed for their rendezvous.

But leaving this company to finish their noiseless
gathering, we will now recur a little to note the adventures
of one of our heroes on his way to the
scene of action. We speak in the plural here, as
we do not pretend to fix on any one of the several
leading personages of our story as the particular hero
of the work. But should the reader deem such
an one to be essential in the performance, we leave
him to make his own selection from all the characters
we have introduced—a privilege to the reader,
which, we trust, will prevent any question in his
mind whether the author has himself selected the
one for this honor who is the most worthy of the
appellation: and a privilege too, that we the more
freely accord, since we have often wished for the
same favor ourselves, while reading works of this
kind, and bored with the everlasting recurrence of
`our hero,' applied, not unfrequently, to the worst
drawn, and by far the most spiritless character in the
book.

After the separation of our band in the morning,
the leaders, as before intimated, were actively engaged
through a good part of the day in calling upon
the settlers to sound their views and feelings in regard
to the approaching struggle between the colonies
and mother country, and to apprise them, if
found right in sentiments, and ripe for action, as

was generally the case, of the contemplated meeting,
and the precautions deemed important to be
observed in conducting it.

Warrington, having performed the task allotted him
as his share of this delicate, and some times difficult
duty, set out, late in the afternoon, for the appointed
rendezvous of the evening. After leaving
the vicinity of the lake, to the borders of which his
duties had been principally confined, he soon entered
the woods, and, having decided on the course to
be taken, proceeded onward with a rapid step several
miles towards his destination, without pausing.
But at length feeling somewhat wearied with the exertions
of the day, he sat down to rest him, for a
few moments, on the trunk of a fallen tree, and
was dreamily running over in his mind the singular
events of the few past days, when his attention was
arrested by a clicking sound, resembling that which
attends the cocking of a musket. While looking
around him in doubt whether his senses had not deceived
him, in respect to the impression they conveyed
of the sound, he distinctly heard the snapping
of a fire lock in a thicket at no great distance
from the spot he occupied. Springing upon his
feet, he brought his own rifle to his shoulder, and,
stepping behind a tree, awaited in silence the result,
which, he supposed, whatever the cause of the
movement, would soon be disclosed. But hearing
nothing further, and concluding that the sound came
from some hunter, who, having gained sight of game,
and snapping his piece at it, had noiselessly crept
off after it in another direction, he thought but little
more on the subject at this time, and soon leisurely
proceeded on his way. The walk of half a mile now
brought him to that dead and desolate stream, whose

name, at the present day, `Lemon Fair,' has so often
proved a puzzler to the stranger traversing this section
of the country, and led him to ask the cause of
so singular an appellation. The explanation that
follows, however, reconciles the apparent incongruity
in a way as simple and curious as it is generally
unexpected. And the enquirer is soon enabled to
trace this before unaccountable name, from `Lemon
Fair,' through `Lamen Fair,' to the lamentable affair!
which is said to have burst from the agonized bosom
of a traveller, who once, in attempting to ford the
stream, was doomed to the pain of witnessing his
noble steed become inextricably mired, and, sinking
deeper and deeper at every effort to clear himself,
finally disappear with fearful death-struggles, in the
bottomless quags of this Styx of Vermontane rivers.
Warrington here paused to note the air of peculiar
dreariness and gloom, which, even at this day, seems
to brood over this paradise of eels and owls—the
former finding their Elysium in the stagnant, muddy,
and root-tangled pools of the stream, and the
latter on the decayed limbs of the long colonade of
dead and leafless tress lining the banks, where they
sit moping and gloating over their inexaustible storehouse
of countless reptiles swarming in the dark and
turbid waters beneath. And while standing upon
the banks of this stream, with his mind thus engrossed,
he was startled by the sharp report of a rifle,
bursting from a fallen tree top on a knoll at the distance
of some eight or ten rods behind him; while
at the same instant, a bullet, passing through his
coat between his arm and body, struck and burried
itself on the dry and barkless surface of a tree,
standing a few yards before him. Whirling suddenly
round towards the covert from which the shot
issued, as now plainly indicated by a light cloud of
diffusing smoke, he again quickly brought his rifle to
his shoulder, and stood for a few seconds straining
his vision for a sight of the invisible foe. But being
unable to discover any object with such certainty
as would justify his returning the fire, he suddenly
changed his purpose, and leaped forward with all
possible speed towards the place. In one moment
he stood on the spot just occupied by his dastard
assailant; when he succeeded in catching a glimpse
of a dark form rapidly retreating over another swell
into a thick and tangled swamp. His first impulse
was to recommence the pursuit; but a second thought
told him that it would probably be in vain, while it
uselessly exposed him to the hazard of another shot
of his enemy from some concealment, which he
would have time to gain unperceived. He therefore
reluctantly turned and retraced his steps to the
stream he had just left.

From the form and motions of the assassin, although
in a disguised dress, Warrington was but little at
loss in identifying him with Darrow, whom he had
twice met and as often frustrated in his base, or, to
say the least very questionable, designs. And coupling
the improbability that the fellow was acting from
his own promptings in his murderous attempt, with
the friendly hints of Miss Hendee, he no longer
doubted that Sherwood was indeed bent on his destruction,
and finding a willing instrument in Darrow,
had instigated this method of accomplishing it.
But abandoning all thoughts of any measures to
punish, or circumvent, either the base tool, or his
still more dastard employer, till his public duties
should allow him more leisure, he now hastily crossed

the stream, and proceeded with rapid steps towards
the rendezvous of his assembling companions,
which he only reached just as the last glimmerings of
departing daylight were fading in the western horizon.

`Charles, how is this!' exclaimed Colonel Allen,
breaking away, as soon as he noticed Warrington's
arrival, from a group of several of the most influential
settlers in the vicinity, with whom he appeared
to have been engaged in a low, confidential conversation,
`how is this, that you are the last man to
come on the ground? Why, I thought the devil
had got you, or, what is the same thing in Dutch,
that you had gone over to the British, to apprise
them of our project. But, come, Sir, as I suppose
we must allow you the credit of having done rather
better than that, I have concluded to make you my
right hand man for the evening.—So now for business.'

`In that case, colonel,' replied the other, `let me suggest
to you the precaution of placing a few sentinels
around us, while in convention. There may be those
abroad to night, who, if permitted to look in upon
us here, would render our enterprise as vain as the
crusades. Were it not too dark I would show you a
hole in my coat, through which one of these prowlers
a few miles back, by a small mistake, put a bullet,
instead of through my heart as evidently intended.'

`God bless you, Charles, what do you mean?'
asked Allen, with surprise and emotion.

`I mean as I say.'

`But who could it be.'

`That despicable Sergeant, instigated by Sherwood,
I suspect.'

`And what was you about not to return the compliment
on the spot?'

`He escaped me in a thicket, and I had no time
to spend in the cautious pursuit which would be safe
or successful—would to heaven I could have had
more leisure!'

`Well, by the blessing of God, Charles, within a
week, we will have our heels on that nest of rattle
snakes. But it is time to organize. You were
right about a guard—will you attend to placing it,
while I assemble the company in the barn, and see
that each has the watchword?'

Allen now ordered lights to be brought, and placing
himself at the door of the building, he called to the
company to advance and enter singly. Each man
as he presented himself, and before suffered to pass
in, was strictly required to give the watchword,
which, as a precautionary measure to prevent any
one being present whose views had not been previously
ascertained, had been confidentially imparted
by Allen and his associate leaders since the meeting
was in agitation. The word chosen for this purpose
was Carillon, an appellation by which fort Ticonderoga
was designated by the French while in the
possession of their government. After every man
had passed this test of admittance, and thus proved
himself entitled to mingle in the deliberations of
the assembly, Col. Allen called the meeting to order,
and, after stating that important business was in
contemplation, the successful result of which might
depend on the secrecy with which it was conducted,
proposed a sort of oath of affirmation, binding all
present by a solemn promise not to divulge the proceedings
of this meeting, and its consequent measures,
till the reasons, which made secrecy necessary,

should cease to exist. This proposition was acceded
to; the oath was taken by rising. Allen then, as
the acting chairman of the assemblage, declared the
meeting open for remarks on the subject which they
had met to discuss.

The dead silence, which was now for a few moments
observed by the expectant assembly, was broked
by Warrington, who, calmly rising, proceeded,
after a few preliminary observations, to give a brief
history of the commencement and progress of the
quarrel between the colonies and mother country.
He then enumerated the wrongs and aggressions
which the former had suffered, while meekly and
vainly petitioning for redress, and closed by a vivid
picture of the recent massacre at Lexington, and
with an eloquent appeal to the settlers to join the
inhabitants of the sister colonies in avenging the
death of their slaughtered countrymen.

As he closed his harangue, which had been listend
to with the most profound attention, a visible
excitement ran through the assembly. And the
hasty changing of positions, as they sat upon their
rude plank seats, ranged in rows round a small table,
on which dimly burned a solitary taper, the glistening
eye, the indignant glance, the firmly compressed
lip, and the silent working of the muscles of the
faces of these hardy mountaineers, plainly told the
speaker that he had been addressing men who neither
lacked the intelligence to comprehend, nor the
spirit to act, as soon as definite action was set before
them.

Remember Baker, one of the most shrewd, sagacious
and coolly calculating man of the settlement,
next arose and addressed the meeting. With a
few observations, for he was not a man of many

words, going to confirm the statements, and fortify
the positions of Warrington, he told them, that although
he doubted not in the least, that principle
alone with them would be sufficient to excite them
to action in the coming contest, yet their policy, as
settlers engaged in a controversy with New York
for their homes and property, demanded that they
should take a bold and decided stand against the
British: for by doing this they would at once enlist
the sympathies of the other colonies in regard to
their wrongs, draw upon themselves the attention
and respect of Congress, to which, if backed by the
considerations of a meritorious service in the common
cause of the country, they could successfully
appeal for protection against the aggressions of New
York, and thus place themselves in an attitude in
which they could not only command justice, but
finally secure the privilege of becoming an independent
State.

`'Member is right!' exclaimed one of that class
with whom this artful, and as the event afterwards
proved, by no means ill-grounded argument, was calculated
to operate with particular force.

`Ay, ay!' responded another, `give me Member
Baker for foresight! The more birds we can kill
with one stone the better.'

Although the argument of Baker was not probably
without its effect on the minds of all, situated as
the settlers were with respect to their controverted
rights, and, when added to the manly appeal of
Warrington to their patriotism and principles, had
wrought up the assembly to a high pitch of feeling,
yet Allen, conceiving that something more was
needed to ripen them for action, and raise their
minds, as he was desirous of doing, to a level with

his own high-toned enthusiasm, now rose, and, after
looking for a moment fearlessly and confidently
around him, as he stood towering with his giant
form, like Saul among the people, began,—

`Men of the Green Mountains,

In the struggle in which you have been for many
years engaged, you have won among the people of
these colonies a name for valor and patriotism. But
have you gained this proud distinction in surmounting
the difficulties of the past, to lose it now by inaction
in the more important stake of the present?
Have you so long, so nobly, so triumphantly, resisted
arbitrary power in the shape of little tyrants near
home, to submit now to the lawless dictations of
great ones from abroad? Are you, who have just
saved your homes and possessions from the grasp of
these, now willing to yield them tamely to those?—
to those whose despotic dominion would soon render
them but possessions in name, to be transmitted to
whom? to whom I say?—To slaves, in the person
of your own children! Yes, your own children,
who, if suffered to retain their inheritance at all,
must retain it with a foot of a lord on their necks,
and the hand of a priest in their pockets! Green
Mountain Boys! could you, who have drank in liberty
from the very air of your green hills, never yet
contaminated by the breath of a tyrant, could you
witness this, and live? And above all, can you now
look idly on, and see a hireling soldiery swarming
your country, enforcing the accursed requisitions of
their masters at the point of the bayonet, shooting
down your countrymen and brothers by scores, as if
they were wild beasts, for exercising but the rights
which God and nature have given them—can you
look upon a scene like this, and lift no hand for your

rights?—strike no blow to avenge the cold blooded
murder of your countrymen at Lexington? Great
God, forbid! No! no! my brave mountaineers,
you were never born to be cringing slaves! Your
bold hearts and sinewy arms were never made to be
listless and idle at a time like this! Come, then,
come on! follow me, whose heart is laboring and
leaping for the work of vengeance, and whose arm
is nerved and aching for the blow! Follow me, and
I will lead you to deeds, which shall cover the Green
Mountain Boys with imperishable glory, and make
their name the watchword of liberty while a tyrant
shall remain to disgrace the image of his God, or
pollute the earth with his presence.'

During the delivery of this brief and exciting appeal,
the expectant audience at first sat in their seats
as silent and motionless as a group of statues. Before
the speaker had proceeded through many sentences,
however, the whole company had noiselessly risen in
their places, where they stood as if spell bound in
their tracks, every head eagerly bent forward, and
every eye, gleaming with the kindling fire within,
riveted upon their idolized leader, to catch the bold
and inspiriting thoughts that fell burning from his
lips, now with looks of fire and scorn, and now with
the intonations of thunder. And as he went on, rising
in energy and power at every sentence, eyes
were seen to flash brighter and brighter with indignation,
tears of excited and overflowing feeling to
gush over many a rough cheek, while many a clenched
and brawny fist was brandished aloft, in mute
response to the heart-stirring words of the speaker.
And when he closed, `Ethan Allen, forever! Ethan
Allen, forever!' rose in one loud, convulsed shout to
heaven.

All being now ripe for action, and many loudly
demanding the object which might immediately require
their services, Allen laid before them the
project of marching at once upon the British forts at
Ticonderoga and Crown Point, with the object of
surprising and capturing these two important though
now weakly garrisoned fortresses. The settlers being
in general well apprised of the state of these
garrisons, and entering with great zeal into the views
of their leaders respecting the importance and feasibility
of the proposed plan, the latter now made a
call for volunteers, and immediately commenced an
enrolment of names, which, when completed, was
found, to the joy and surprise of Allen and his collegues,
to embrace more than three fourths of the assemblage
now present; while even the rest expressed
an earnest wish to aid in the enterprise so far as
it could be done without leaving the neighborhood
of their homes, where their presence was demanded.
All necessary measures preparatory to the expedition,
as far as regarded the forces raised in this section
of the Grants, were then discussed and settled,
and a sufficient number of men were selected to guard
every road by which any information of the contemplated
movement could be conveyed to the enemy.
These were ordered to enter upon their duties
the next day; while the main body were to equip,
and otherwise prepare themselves in the best manner
the circumstances would admit, and assemble at
Castleton on the fourth day from the present time.
After these arrangements were completed, Allen ordered
his horse to be brought to the door, and announced
his intention of departing that night for the
south part of the settlement, to superintend the

mustering of the forces enlisting, or enlisted, in that
quarter.

`Well, my brave boys,' said the Colonel, mounting
his horse, while his devoted followers were crowding
around him, `remember to meet me at Castleton
on the 8th. Captain Warrington and Lieutenant
Selden will muster and take charge of you. Captain
Baker goes to Winooski river to raise what force
he can there, and come in boats to join us on the
lake. As to myself, before to-morrow's sunset I
must be at Holy Hill.[1] And now, my fine fellows,
go home, and prepare yourselves, without letting
your left hands know what your right are doing, and
may the Lord bless you all till I see you again.'

So saying, and putting spurs to his horse, he
dashed down the road to the south and disappeared.