With Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga

by W. Bert Foster

Finally arriving at the top of a ridge of land he saw before him–at least two miles along the road and just mounting another ridge–a group of flying horses with a sledge in their midst, the prisoner and his captors. At first he did not see the Green Mountain Boys at all; but as his own horse plunged down the slope he suddenly observed the squadron which had left the Bennington Inn, come out of the dip of the valley where the trees were thickest, and begin the ascent of the further ridge. The two parties were less than half a mile apart.

But from the elevation he was on Enoch had seen something else. The second ridge was lower than this and over it and not very far beyond he had caught a glimpse of the frozen Hudson! The river was not far away. Would the settlers catch the scoundrelly New York justice and his companions before they reached the river?

And this must be done if they would rescue Captain Baker. It was all very well to talk of following the party to Albany; but that would simply result in the imprisonment of all in the jail. Once at the river the Yorkers would be among friends and would find plenty of people to help them beat off the Green Mountain Boys. The latter understood this well enough. They did not need young Enoch Harding to tell them, and it was quite evident to the boy that his friends were spurring their horses desperately up the farther slope in a last grand burst of speed to overtake the fugitives.

On and on they sped and finally, when Enoch reached the dip of the vale, Clark and his party were over the hill and had disappeared. The boy dared not urge his horse up the ascent too rapidly and he lost much precious time before reaching the summit. But once here he had a broad outlook over the slope and plain beyond and if he could not be present, at least he had an unobstructed view of the end of the chase. The Green Mountain Boys had spurred down the hill madly and gained upon the sledge so rapidly that the faint-hearted Yorkers were thrown into a panic. The horses attached to the sledge gave out and one of them slipped and fell in the harness. Instead of stopping to help Munro get the animal on its feet, the horsemen, with the fear of punishment from the angry pursuers before their eyes, rode on and scattered in the thick woods beyond, leaving the doughty justice to meet the possé alone. Munro was not a physical coward and he felt that with the majesty of the law–New York law–behind him, he could face Baker’s friends.

They bore down upon him with threatening cries, but he stood his ground and warned them at the top of his voice neither to shoot nor to try to rescue his prisoner. There was no need of firearms, of course, for they were ten to one now. But they laughed his authority to scorn. What! allow him to carry ’Member Baker to Albany to be tried by a judge who was himself interested in land speculations, and by a jury antagonistic to the settlers of the Grants? It was preposterous!

Baker, who suffered sorely from his wounds, was untied and placed upon one of the horses which could carry double. The possé felt ugly, but they did not harm the justice and after some wordy warfare rode away again, leaving Munro to get his horse up and harnessed again to the sledge without their help. His threats of future punishment for the entire party were unnoticed. Their wild ride had been crowned with success, for they had recovered their wounded comrade within a mile of the Hudson River, and they took him home without any molestation.

But Captain Baker was weak from the loss of blood and terribly shaken by the experience and was in bed and under the care of a surgeon for some days. The news of the Yorkers’ raid spread throughout the Grants and the settlers whose fears had been lulled to sleep by the peace of the winter, were roused to a realization of the fact that the land grabbers intended to be quite as active in the future as they had been in the past. The next training day the conversation of the Green Mountain Boys who were present in Bennington was bitter indeed. Cochran, and such reckless spirits, were for retaliating with fire and bullet on the New York border. Nevertheless Warner and other more moderate men counseled forbearance.

“We overawed the sheriff’s army last year, it is true. But at that time we had given the people of New York no reasonable excuse for attacking us,” declared Warner. “We’ve beech-sealed more than one surveyor and warned New York settlers off the farms they had stolen since then. We’ve been obliged to use force and now force will be used against us. But I find that many of these New York settlers have been brought here under a misapprehension. They did not understand the controversy before they got the farms, and believed that the land-grabbers really owned the property of which they are in possession. To visit our righteous wrath upon helpless women and children will not help the cause of the Grants.”

Many of his hearers, however, were not convinced. “’Member Baker’s been beaten and his wife and boy ill-treated. What are we going to do about it?” was the demand.

“Complaint has already been made to Governor Tryon of New York, and John Munro may be punished by his own side for what he did the other night.”