The Yankee Tea-party

"What sort of a looking man was Arnold at that time?" inquired Hand.

"He was then about thirty-five years old," replied Davenport; "of the middle size, and rather stout, his face was rather handsome; but there was an iron look about his mouth that many a man would not like; his eyes were of a dark grey, and full of fire and restlessness. He seemed never to be satisfied unless he was moving about and doing something."

"Exactly as I knew him," remarked Kinnison.

"Well," said Davenport, "I'll return to my story. At the end of seven days we were ready to move on; and we soon arrived at the Carratunc Falls, where there was another portage. We got round that, however, without much difficulty. The banks were more level and the road not so long; but the work afterwards was tough. The stream was so rapid that the men were compelled to wade and push the batteaux against the current. There was a little grumbling among us, and quite a number of the men deserted. Two days after reaching the Carratunc Falls, we came to the Great Carrying Place. There work was to begin to which all our other work was play. The Great Carrying Place extended from the Kennebec to the Dead River, about fifteen miles, and on the road were three small ponds. Before we took our batteaux out of the water of the Kennebec, we built a block-house on its banks, as a depository for provisions, so as to secure a supply in case of retreat."

"I thought you said you had no extra quantity of provisions," said Pitts.

"I did," replied Davenport. "We did not intend to leave any of our provisions at the block-house. It was built as a repository for supplies ordered up from Norridgewock. Well, we took the boats out of the water, and took most of the baggage and provisions out of the boats, and toiled up a steep, rocky road for more than three miles to the first pond. There the boats were put into the water, and we had a short rest. We caught plenty of fresh salmon-trout in the pond, and Colonel Arnold ordered two oxen to be killed and divided among us, as a sort of treat. At the second portage we built another block-house for the sick. At that time I felt sick and worn out myself, but I couldn't think of stopping, so I kept my sufferings hidden as much as I could from everybody but O'Brien, who did all he could to help me. After crossing the last pond, we had several marshes and deep ravines to cross. Sometimes we had to wade up to the knees in mud and water, carrying heavy bundles of baggage on our shoulders, and in constant danger of sinking into deep mud holes. Ha! ha! I recollect, O'Brien, Johnson and myself were toiling along through one of the marshes, Johnson a short distance behind, when O'Brien and I heard a yell and a cry of 'Och, murther!' The yell, I thought might have come from a savage, but the 'Och, murther!' I knew never could. O'Brien's quick eye soon discovered what was the cause of it, and I followed him back. There we found Johnson, up to his neck in mud and water, yelling for help to get out of the bloody dirt. I was the first to grasp his hand, but in pulling, my foot slipped, and I fell in alongside of Johnson. O'Brien was more careful; he got on the baggage that Johnson and I had thrown down, and by great exertions, dragged us both out; but in such a condition—covered with mud from head to foot. Of course, O'Brien and I laid it all on Johnson's blundering. O'Brien said he believed Johnson's birth was a blunder of nature, she had regretted ever since; and that if he fell into a mudhole again, he should stick there. Johnson admitted that he was thinking of home when he fell into the dirty place; he was just kissing his darlin' Mary when his foot slipped. Well, we shouldered our wet baggage, and waded on to the rest of the party, and soon after, we reached Dead River. This river seemed to have a smooth current, broken by two or three little falls, and we thought we could have quite an easy progress. The boats were easily pushed along, and the men got the rest they wanted. As we were going slowly along the river, we discovered a high mountain, the summit of which appeared to be whitened with snow. Near the base of the mountain we found Arnold, with the two first divisions, encamped. We were all very glad to see a camp once more and enjoyed it, I tell you, as much as a good meal after a hard day's work. On the day after the arrival of our party, Colonel Arnold raised the pine-tree flag over his tent, the men firing a salute and giving three cheers, as soon as it was raised. On the same day, Major Bigelow went up to the top of the mountain, expecting to see the spires of Quebec. But he weren't a Moses; he didn't see the promised land. After that, I believe the people gave the Major's name to the mountain. Ninety men were sent back to the rear for provisions which now began to grow scarce. It began to rain before we left the encampment, and it rained the best part of three days; every man and all the baggage were drenched with water. Morgan and Arnold, with the first and second divisions had gone ahead, and we followed. One night, we landed at a rather late hour, and were trying to get a little rest, when we were awaked by the freshet, which came down upon us in a torrent; O'Brien waked Johnson and myself just in time to allow us to get out of the way. The water arose to a great height, covering the low grounds on each side of the river, and the current became very rapid. As the batteaux moved on they would get entangled among the drift wood and bushes. Sometimes we wandered from the main stream into the branches, and then we would have to fall back into the proper course. The number of falls seemed to increase as we advanced, and of course, there was a portage at every one. I was almost worn out with toil and sickness, yet I was sustained by the hope of succeeding in the expedition, and of doing some injury to the enemy before I died. You know how an excited spirit will overcome weakness of body. At length a disaster happened to our party which almost checked the expedition. By some bad management, and partly by accident, seven of our batteaux were overset; O'Brien, Johnson and myself were among the men thrown into the water, and we had a terrible time of it, clinging to the bottom of the batteaux. We pushed the boats ashore, and not a single man was drowned; but all the baggage and provisions in the boats were lost. That made such a breach in our provisions, that the boldest hearts began to be seized with despair. We were then thirty miles from the head of Chaudière river, and we had provisions for twelve days at the farthest. A council of war was held, and it was decided to send the sick and feeble men back, and press forward with the others. Colonel Arnold wrote to Colonel Greene and Colonel Enos, who were in the rear, to select such a number of their strongest men that could supply themselves with fifteen days' provisions, and to come on with them, leaving the others to return to Norridgewock. You know how Colonel Enos acted upon that order; he marched back to Cambridge, while Colonel Greene obeyed Colonel Arnold's instructions."

"People have different opinions of that man's conduct," said Kinnison. "For my part, I think he was a poor-spirited man, if not a coward."

"I think so too," said Davenport. "Although his court-martial acquitted him, General Washington, and other officers showed such dissatisfaction, that he resigned his commission."

"Never mind the shirk," said Pitts: "tell us how the men of the right grit made out."

"Well," said Davenport, "after Colonel Arnold had arranged his plans, he hurried forwards with sixty men, intending to proceed as soon as possible to the inhabitants on the Chaudière and send back provisions to the main body. When we started again, the rain had changed to snow, which fell two inches deep. Ice formed on the surface of the water through which we were forced to wade and drag the boats. You may talk about suffering at Valley Forge, but I tell you it was no kind of circumstance to what we men endured. We were cold, hungry and tired all the time, and yet we couldn't rest, for fear of starvation in the wilderness. I always think my living through it all was owing to O'Brien's care and his trying to keep me in good spirits. Poor fellow! he met his death at Quebec. I'll never forget him. The man who could forget such service at such a time would be a blot upon the name of humanity." Davenport paused, as if indulging mournful memory, and then proceeded. "Near the source of the Dead River, we had to pass through a string of small lakes, choked with drift-wood and rocks. So it seemed as if we met greater difficulty at every step of our advance. At last we reached the four-mile carrying place, from the Dead River to the stream that leads into Lake Megantic. We took the batteaux out of the water and dragged and carried them over the highlands till we reached the little stream, which conducted us by a very crooked course into Lake Megantic. I began to think our toils and dangers would soon be over, and of course worked with a light heart. At the Lake, we found Lieutenant Steel and the exploring party which had been sent forward to explore and clear the path at the portages. The night after our party entered the Lake, we encamped on the eastern shore, where a large Indian wigwam that appeared as if it had been used for a council, served to shelter us from the cold winds. Colonel Arnold ordered Hanchet and fifty men to march by land along the shore of Chaudière River, and he, himself, embarked with Captain Oswald, Lieutenants Steel and Church and thirteen men, determined to proceed as soon as possible to the French inhabitants, and send back provisions to the army. This was the only plan to save the men from starvation. You see the Chaudière is a rough rapid river, the water in some places boiling and foaming over a rocky bottom. The baggage had to be lashed to the boats. Arnold's party fell among the rapids. Three of the boats were overset, dashed to pieces against the rocks and their contents swallowed up by the waves. Six men struggled for some time in the water, but were saved. That accident turned out to be a lucky one, for no sooner had the men dried their clothes and re-embarked, than one of them, who had gone forward, cried out 'a fall ahead,' and thus the whole party was saved from destruction. Soon after we entered the Chaudière we worked round several falls and kept clear of the rapids for a while; but it couldn't last. We lost boats here and there, till we hadn't enough to carry the men and what baggage we had with us, and so we took to the land, and began our march through the woods along the banks of the river. Now a kind of suffering began, which we hadn't dreamed of when we started, but which we had been expecting before we lost our boats. We had to drag ourselves along, over rocks and ravines and through thick underwood, with starvation staring us in the face. I had never been a hearty feeder, and could bear the want of provisions better than those in good health and who had accustomed themselves to cramming. But poor Johnson fainted several times on the march, and O'Brien suffered more than he would tell. Every thing eatable was at length entirely used. Several dogs, generally favourites of their owners, had been killed and entirely devoured, even to the entrails. O'Brien, Johnson and myself boiled our moccasins, to see if any nourishment could be drawn from the deer-skin. But the skins were dry. It seemed as if we were doomed to starvation. No game of any kind appeared, and even the eatable roots were not to be found. I remember seeing a party of men, Johnson among them, discover a well-known root in the sand and rush for it as if it had been a diamond. The man who got it devoured it instantly, though at any other time it would have made him sick."

"I wonder how those men would have acted if they had met such a loaded table as this in the woods," said Hand.

"Acted!" said Davenport. "Like wolves, whose bellies had been pinched with hunger for a week. You may judge from what I tell you. As we were marching slowly through the woods, a set of ragged skeletons, the foremost of the party caught sight of some Canadians and Indians coming towards us, with great packages and bundles which we knew were the provisions sent by Colonel Arnold. There was a perfect yell of joy, and the whole party rushed towards them. But Major Bigelow and his officers kept the men off from the food, at the sword's point. The food was then distributed in very small quantities to each man. How it disappeared! I venture to say that ten minutes after the men received their shares, they had devoured them all. The Canadians and Indians were ordered to keep enough provisions for the other troops, who were fed as they came up. At last we caught sight of the French settlement of Sertigan, where Colonel Arnold had arrived some days before. The people came out to receive us; but they wondered at us as if we were more than men. They offered us plenty of food and clothing, and took care of the sick. Within four or five days, the whole army was collected by small parties at Sertigan."

"What was the number of the troops who arrived safe?" enquired Pitts.

"About five hundred and fifty men, I suppose," replied Davenport. "The rest had either gone back with Enos, deserted, or been left at the block-house, sick."

"How long did the expedition occupy?" enquired Hand.

"About two months," replied Davenport. "For thirty-two days we traversed a dreary wilderness without meeting a human being."

"It was a great feat, and the men who performed it are entitled to high renown," said Hand.

"Many of them afterwards became distinguished," said Davenport. "Morgan, Dearborn, Meigs, Febiger, Greene and others were known to the enemy in after years."

Mr. Hand now proposed three cheers for the men of Arnold's expedition and three more for Mr. Davenport, both of which propositions were acted upon in the heartiest manner by the young men. Mr. Hand then said he had a song to sing to the tune of "Ye Mariners of England." It was not his own composition; he had found it in print, and knowing the music, thought it would be acceptable. Being pressed to sing, he complied, singing the following words:—

Ye freemen of Columbia,Who guard our native coast,Whose fathers won your liberty,Your country's pride and boast;Your glorious standard rear again,To match your ancient foe,As she roars on your shores,Where the stormy tempests blow;As she prowls for prey on every shore,Where the stormy tempests blow.The spirits of your fathersShall hover o'er each plain,Where in their injured country's causeThe immortal brave were slain!Where bold Montgomery fearless fell,Where carnage strew'd the field,In your might shall you fight,And force the foe to yield;And on the heights of AbrahamYour country's vengeance wield.Columbia fears no enemyThat ploughs the briny main;Her home a mighty continent,Its soil her rich domain!To avenge our much-loved country's wrongs,To the field her sons shall fly,While alarms sound to arms,We'll conquer or we'll die.When Britain's tears may flow in vain,As low her legions lie!Columbia's eagle standardTriumphant then shall tower,Till from the land the foe depart,Driven by its gallant power.Then, then, ye patriot warriors!Our song and feast shall flow,And no more, on our shore,Shall war's dread tempests blow;But the breeze of peace shall gently breathe,Like the winds that murmur low.

The song was well received by the company, who were not disposed to be critical. The drum and fife were then brought into play, Brown and Hanson, without entreaty, striking up, "Come out, ye Continentallers." This rollicking tune called up such laughable associations, that one of the young men proposed that it should be sung. No one knew it entire, except Brown, the fifer, who had been the musician of his mess as well as of the company, and Brown complied with the repeated entreaties of the young men, singing the following ludicrous words in a cracked and weak remnant of a voice.

Come out, ye continentallers!We're going for to goTo fight the red-coat enemy,Who're plaguy "cute," you know.Now, shoulder whoop!—eyes right and dress—Front!—Davis, wipe your nose—Port whoop!—that's slick—now, carry whoop!Mike Jones, turn out your toes.Charge bagnet!—that's your sort, my boys:Now, quick time!—march!—that's right;Just so we'd poke the enemy,If they were but in sight.Halt!—shoulder whoop!—stop laughing, Nick—By platoons, wheel!—halt—dress!Hold up your muzzles on the left;No talking, more or less.Bill Sneezer, keep your canteen down,We're going for to travel;"Captain, I wants to halt a bit,My shoe is full of gravel."Ho—strike up music—for'ard march!Now point your toes, Bob Rogers;See! yonder are the red-coat men—Let fly upon 'em, sogers.

This song was written in the early part of the revolutionary war to burlesque the meeting of the country militia, and afterwards became very popular. Although Brown had not much voice, he managed to give a correct and exceedingly laughable expression to the old song.

"That may be all true enough of some of the country militia," said Robinson, "but in our village, there was no such foolery. Regulars—and British ones at that—couldn't have gone through a better training, or a better rill. One of the British officers at Saratoga said that the New England militia were equal to regulars; and as far as marching up to cannons' mouths and driving back dragoons goes, I think they were, myself. You see, for a long time previous to the battle of Lexington, we had trainings all around the country, and some of our officers were men who had seen some hard service in the old French War. Why, just look at the men that Ethan Allen and Arnold led against Ticonderoga, as strong a place as was ever fortified in the northern states. There was not a bolder or better conducted enterprise in the whole war."

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."