M’Cormick parted from his companions at some distance from Heman Allen’s house. He was kindly received, and offered a bed for the night. It was noticed he was unusually reticent, and quite reserved in his participation in the hospitalities tendered him. He made some indirect inquiries after Colonel Allen, who had ridden out that afternoon, but who was momentarily expected to return.
From these circumstances Heman was led to suspect some plot was on foot against his brother, and so expressed himself on that gentleman’s return. The Colonel thereupon taxed M’Cormick at his unusual concern, and so pressed the poor fellow that he confessed there was a plot to capture him, and that he had come for the purpose of privately informing him of it. M’Cormick departed soon after, and told the gang of what he had done. Preparations were made for defense by the household, but they remained through the night unmolested.
Old Catamount Tavern.
The scene of this adventure was the birthplace of Ethan and Ira Allen, from which, at an early age, they removed with their parents to the Hampshire Grants. Ethan was remarkable for the boldness with which he declared his opinions, and a self confidence that was abashed by no consciousness of ignorance. He acquired a wide notoriety as a pamphleteer during the Vermont troubles, there being no paper published there at that time. His enemies tried to fix on him the stigma of an outlaw; and even so careful a historian as Irving is led to make the observation that he was “a kind of Robin Hood among the mountains.” The late T. S. Arthur once wrote of him as being a “guerilla chief,” forgetting that he acted under the direction of a committee of safety—an authority universally adopted by the other colonies during the Revolution.
Ira Allen was still further traduced. The Western Star, a paper published at Stockbridge, Mass., in 1797, styles him the “Vermont Land Jobber;” and states he was at the time under arrest for treasonable designs against the government of Great Britain, concluding with the observation—“All humane men should shudder at the idea of a halter; and many honest men will rejoice if Allen’s liberation puts an end to his restless career in future.” Allen, it seems, had been charged with supplying the Irish, then in rebellion against England, with arms: after eight years of litigation he was acquitted.
CHAPTER IV.
MANDATORY LAWS OF NEW YORK.
The spirit of opposition and resentment had risen so high because of the events recorded in the preceding chapter, that New York was led to adopt the most stringent measures of coercion. The law which the wisdom of that colony devised to meet the exigencies of the occasion was a curiosity in American Legislation. It enacted that if any person opposed the civil officers of New York, or burned or destroyed property belonging to subjects of that colony, or assembled for riotous purposes, such offenders shall be adjudged guilty of felony, without benefit of clergy, and were to suffer death as felons. The law made it the duty of the Governor to publish the names of offenders indicted for capital offenses, with an order requiring them to deliver themselves up in seventy days; in default of which the courts might award execution against them the same as though they had been tried and convicted—the death penalty to be administered without the benefit of clergy. All crimes, therefore, that had been committed on the Grants, could be tried at Albany, and a neglect to obey summons to deliver one’s person into custody, was equivalent to a conviction. Thus was sought to be evaded the dangerous duty of serving processes on the Green Mountain Boys, and they would convict themselves by refusal to surrender without the inconvenience of a trial.
If this law was remarkable, the answer of the Green Mountain Boys was no less so. Said they: “By legerdemain, bribery and deception, they [the New Yorkers] have extended their dominion far and wide. We are resolved to inflict immediate death on whomsoever shall attempt the apprehension of the persons indicted as rioters. We will kill and destroy any person that shall be presumed to be accessory, aiding or assisting in taking any of us; although they have a license by the law to kill us, and an indemnification for so doing, they have no such indemnification from the Green Mountain Boys. If New York insists on killing us to take possession of our vineyards, let them come on; we are ready for a game of scalping with them.” These sentiments were announced by handbills and in the papers throughout New England, with the design of deterring New York from attempting to enforce the law, as such an attempt would be certain to result in an effusion of blood. The people of Vermont maintained in this that they were merely contending for justice, and that the officers of New York, who were calling upon the inhabitants of Vermont to obey the royal orders, were themselves acting in open violation of the express commands of their King.
A new interest may be awakened when the character of the claimants is considered. The Green Mountain Boys were the actual settlers. Each family had its log house in the midst of the clearing, with luxuriant crops of corn and potatoes growing among the charred stumps. These pioneers had brought nothing into the woods with them except what could be carried on horseback; some even brought in their goods on hand-sleds in winter, the infirm and children being drawn by husbands and brothers. A few cattle, sheep and hogs, shared rude sheds along with the horses. The rewards of industry and thrift were beginning to be realized. Many families lived remote from each other, and weeks might often pass by without meeting a neighbor. There was plenty of room for the Yorkers if they wished to turn farmers, and were willing to carve a home out of the wilderness as others had done. But such was far from their purpose. Besides, a farm ready cleared, with a snug house and barn, is preferable to one in the unbroken wilderness, when either can be had for the taking—and so thought the New York land-jobbers.