Taking Ticonderoga: Revolution and Rebellion

on this day in history

A French journalist is credited with saying, “The Revolution, like Saturn devours its own children,” when speaking of the Revolution occurring in his own country. Years before, early on in the American Revolution, the inverse of that statement threatened inconvenience to the patriot cause, as one of its children flirted with pushing severance and rebellion further than what the Continental Congress had in mind.

Ethan Allen was first and foremost a Vermonter. The issue, however, was that Vermont, then called the New Hampshire Grants, was not yet a sole province and nor was there the promise of it becoming a state if the Revolution resulted victorious. As it stood, the territory of Vermont was a subsidiary of the British province of New York.

Through the early 1770s, before revolutionary fervor had reached zenith in the whole of the colonies, Allen and his self-regulated militia, the Green Mountain Boys, had been attempting a secession of their own, a release from the grasp of New York. Through intimidation and sporadic violent demonstrations, they’d been trying to bully Vermont into becoming its own entity—either as a republic of its own, or as a province of the Crown, such technicalities being secondary to the desire for severance.

After the events of Lexington and Concord, Allen saw an opportunity. In northeastern New York, on the shorelines of Lake Champlain and just a few miles away from the border of the New Hampshire Grants, stood Fort Ticonderoga. Taken by the British from the French during the French and Indian War, it had since been neglected with regard to garrison, almost begging to be taken. If able to capture it, the patriots would gain control of a vital route between the Hudson River Valley and Canada as well as a large store of military supplies.

Allen’s opportunity was two-fold. As with the Continental Congress, the cause of liberty coursed through his veins. He was not unsympathetic to the patriot cause nor unopposed to playing a role in furthering it along. But the taking of Ticonderoga carried with it a more local motivation as well—strategic advancement towards the Free State of Vermont.

While Allen prepared his Green Mountain Boys for a mission devised of his own making, the official assignment of taking the fort was given to none other than Benedict Arnold and his militia. The two militias ran into each other while on their ways, and though not seamlessly, joined forces.

It would later be portrayed as a mission co-led by both Allen and Arnold, but there’s no question as to who had a firmer grasp of the reins: Ethan Allen. Partly because he knew the area better than Arnold, but mostly because his was the stronger will.

The actual taking of the fort, occurring in the early morning hours of May 10th 1775, was somewhat anti-climatic. Essentially, Allen and his men walked through the front door and engaged in what amounted to a shouting and shoving match, with no shots fired. Eventually leading to Allen demanding that the fort be handed over to them, “In the name of the Lord Jehovah and the Continental Congress.” Seeing that they were outnumbered and unprepared, the British surrendered the fort. No blood was shed in the taking.

Smartly, the Continental Congress ignored Allen’s initial plans in going rogue with the capture. He’d helped them acquire a vital stronghold and obtain an increase in military supplies. That he may have had further motivations behind the taking mattered not. And in one sense, they were correct in their lack of concern. Allen was assigned to other missions and the fort was garrisoned by men of their own choice.

But as the Revolution went on, Allen grew somewhat disillusioned by the Continental Congress. While still sharing in their ultimate desire for liberty, he found himself engaging in negotiations with the Crown the Continental Army was battling against. The Crown he had fought against!

Why? Because the confederation of States was less important to him than the independence of Vermont, even if it meant as a British province. It was not a forgone conclusion that American Independence would lead to Vermont becoming independent of New York, and if the Crown could promise something that Congress could not yet promise, Allen was going to entertain his options.

Allen participated very little in the actual negotiations, yielding to his more calculating, less brash brother. Still, accusations of treason were inevitable, and in order to circumvent them, Allen eventually disclosed the negotiations to Congress, masking them with the half-truth that they were being engaged in order to secure the release of Vermont prisoners being held in Quebec.

Once the Revolutionary War came to a close, the negotiations became moot. Ironically, Vermont, failing in its half-hearted attempt at rejoining the Crown, and not yet a ratified state of the confederation, became an independent republic of its own, as New York shifted its focus (south) westward towards Philadelphia, desiring to play a primary role in the making of a new, greater republic.

One might think that this is exactly what Allen wanted. But in reality, Vermont was now in an even more vulnerable spot, as it lay betwixt the Crown in Canada and the new united States. Statehood, therefore, continued to be an endeavor and was eventually achieved in 1791, two years after Allen’s death.

Two statues of Ethan Allen stand in Vermont, and rightfully so. One of them depicts him addressing the Continental Congress in person, something he never actually did. But this too feels deserving because of the unique dynamic he forced upon Congress. The man is a an enigma, a complex player in America’s struggle for independence. He embodied the spirit of the Revolution to such a degree that he threatened to hinder the collective cause—a common characteristic of the American will.