With a long face, narrow-set eyes, big nose, and bushy brown hair, Allen matured into a loud man with a penchant for taking the law into his own hands. Married to an uneducated and rigidly religious woman who did not care for her husband’s debaucherous streak, he faced constant criticism at home.
10
This made Allen rather eager to escape the house.
He escaped to the local taverns and town hall, where he became not only a connoisseur of cheap rum but also a raucous figure in the community. Standing over six feet tall, he was impossible to ignore as he shouted and his large face grew ruddy with passion. With his incendiary oratory, Allen had a knack for whipping his audiences into action. He soon emerged as the grandiloquent leader of the frontiersmen seeking to forcefully secure their Vermont land claims against wealthy New Yorkers. Many of these Green Mountain Boys, including Allen himself, had outstanding arrest warrants in New York for beating anyone who challenged their claims. Enjoying a good fight almost as much as a good drink, this guerilla force readily followed Allen into battle time and again.
When the Revolutionary War broke out, the unhappily married thirty-seven-year-old Allen was ready to leap into the center of the struggle. Even though most of the action was in Massachusetts, Allen led the unruly Green Mountain Boys into the backwater of upstate New York to take part in America’s first offensive of the war. Their target was the formidable, granite-walled Fort Ticonderoga. Known as the “Gibraltar of North America,” this imposing British fortress secured the waterway connecting Canada to New York. Overlooking Lake Champlain, Ticonderoga was in a heavily wooded and largely uninhabited area, then just beginning to enjoy the effects of spring’s slow march northward.
Allen’s men set out on a midnight raid on a rain-soaked May night in 1775, under orders to seize the boats of wealthy British merchants so that the American forces might use them as ferries across the lake.
11
Stumbling upon “choice liquors” in a Loyalist’s cellar, however, the Vermonters took to drinking instead.
12
At three o’clock in the morning, they decided to make do with just the single boat they had secured to ferry as many men as possible before they lost the cover of darkness.
After two trips across the choppy, cold water, only ninety men were in place. Two-thirds of the American troops were still stranded on the other side of the lake, but Allen decided to attack before daybreak anyway. His force a less-than-optimal mixture of drunk and hung over, the brazen Allen and his dysfunctional militia charged the fort.
Luckily for Allen, the British had only one sentry on duty, and he was helping himself to an unauthorized catnap. Taken by complete surprise, the undermanned fort put up little resistance, as the half-naked British soldiers did not even have time to put on their pants, let alone ready their muskets.
13
In a stunning blow to the British, the fort fell to the Americans, thereby thwarting Britain’s plan to invade through Montreal. Perhaps more importantly, the Americans acquired the gunpowder and artillery that Washington needed to rain hell on the British in Boston. Washington was rather pleased.
Drunk with confidence—and booze—after this triumph, Allen began lobbying Congress to expand the war, writing, “I will lay my life on it, that with fifteen hundred men, and a proper artillery, I will take Montreal.”
14
Eager to spread the Revolution to the French Canadians, Congress agreed to a daring invasion of Canada. Washington, though not technically authorized by Congress to do so, was so enthusiastic about the plan that he sent up his own separate brigade.
15
As usual, Allen was among the first to charge to the front lines of the fight. Patience not being one of his virtues, he led approximately one hundred men in a foolhardy attack on Montreal ahead of the main American force.
16
Outnumbered two to one, his rogue team fought ferociously but was quickly defeated and Allen was captured. Now wise to the plans for a larger assault, the British repelled the American invasion of Canada. Allen was trapped.
British Brigadier Prescott ordered that Allen be tightly shackled and chained within the dark hull of a prison ship moored in Montreal’s harbor. Prescott was an odious character, whose large, almost serpentine eyes were suited to his oppressive disposition. He became known for his “many acts of petty tyranny,” and Allen felt the brunt of his wrath.
17
Rather than languish in defeat in his dank wooden prison, however, Allen was defiant, much to his dour captor’s vexation. Choosing to “behave in a daring, soldier-like manner, that [he] might exhibit a good sample of American fortitude,” the colorful Allen challenged each of his guards to a manly fistfight as they passed by.
18
While not one of them accepted his challenge, Prescott found Allen’s bravado infuriating and ordered that he be treated “with much severity.”
19
The British beat Allen, deprived him of adequate water and rations, and repeatedly threatened him with hanging.
20
For weeks he was held almost naked, wearing little more than the heavy iron chains that cut his wrists and weighed him to the ground.
21
“I have suffered every thing short of death,” he reported.
22
The large man withered as his health deteriorated. But the plucky Allen survived. Unsure of what to do with this defiant troublemaker, the British shipped him off to England, where he was imprisoned in a dark old castle in Cornwall.
23
Like an exhibit at the zoo, he slept in hay infested with vermin as locals bribed guards for a peek at the giant who had taken Ticonderoga.
Everyone expected that Allen would be swiftly hanged. But when word reached Washington that Allen was “thrown into Irons and suffers all the Hardships inflicted upon common Felons,” the commander was incensed, to put it mildly.
24
He felt bound by his strong sense of honor to employ all means necessary to protect Allen. And Washington was prepared to go to great lengths to save an American life.
10
Necessary Evil
I
n a lucky twist of fate, the Americans captured Ethan Allen’s tormentor, Brigadier Prescott, during a subsequent battle. Washington now had his bargaining chip. And he used it. He promptly contacted the new commanding British general, William Howe, who had assumed leadership of the British forces after Parliament recalled Thomas Gage. The British government had lost faith in Gage after he had failed to finish off the colonists’ insurrection in Boston, and had transferred the reins to Howe in hopes of a speedy end to the war. Washington was now negotiating with a more sympathetic character.
General Howe was a British aristocrat who, although a capable commander, nevertheless benefitted from his family’s money and connections. His grandmother had an affair with King George I, and so his family tree—more resembling a twisted bush—positioned Howe as King George III’s illegitimate uncle. Having begun his military career as a teenager, Howe gradually rose through the ranks to achieve his current lofty rank. Now forty-seven years old, he was a brawny six feet tall, with a broad nose and black eyes that sparkled almost as much as his stellar reputation.
1
While fond of merriment—“a glass and a lass” in particular—Howe also had a darker side and “suffered from the Howe family fits of gloom.”
2
And he was a bit gloomy about his present appointment as well.
Ironically, Howe sympathized with the American cause, and he took up arms against the colonists only because he “was ordered, and could not refuse.”
3
Even as he plotted to trounce them, he nevertheless hoped for reconciliation.
Washington was not so conciliatory, however, when he warned Howe that “whatever Treatment Colonel Allen receives; whatever fate he undergoes, such exactly shall be the Treatment and Fate of Brigadier Prescott, now in our Hands. The Law of Retaliation, is not only justifiable, in the Eyes of God and Man, but absolutely a duty, which in our present circumstances we owe to our Relations, Friends and Fellow Citizens.”
4
He seemed to go beyond Congress’s resolution on the subject, which had merely “Ordered, That General Washington be directed to apply to General Howe on this matter, and desire [Prescott] may be exchanged” for Allen.
5
Washington was ardent in the defense of his men. He made it clear that if the British continued to abuse Allen and carry out their plans to hang him, Prescott would suffer for it. And this more extreme stance likely saved Allen’s life: although the British repeatedly threatened to hang Allen without trial, when rumors reached England that Prescott was being dreadfully abused and would likely be killed if they executed Allen, King George III took notice. He ordered that Allen be sent back for a fair trial.
6
After Allen arrived in America, Washington secured his release in exchange for a captured British colonel, and he commended Allen for his fortitude and “enthusiastic zeal.”
7
General Washington’s hard-line view on the treatment of enemy captives was not reserved for captured British troops. At a time when American courts were sentencing Tories to brandings and Continental Army troops purportedly executed surrendering Loyalist soldiers, Washington also condoned at least some of this conduct.
8
After word reached New York City that the Americans’ invasion of Canada had been repelled, there was a great uptick in the “bitterness of feeling already shown towards the loyalists.”
9
Tensions boiled over one balmy June night when patriots hauled Tories into the streets “with candles forced to be held by them, or pushed in their faces, and their heads burned.”
10
By Wednesday of that same week, the riots continued in broad daylight throughout downtown Manhattan.
Pastor Shewkirk, viewing the pandemonium from his Moravian Church, chronicled the “unhappy and shocking scenes” in his diary. He reported witnessing several Tories being made to “ride the rails,” a practice in which a victim was forced to straddle a sharp metal rail that was hoisted onto patriots’ shoulders. They paraded through the streets, the victim wincing as the rail cut into his legs and groin. “Some were stripped naked and dreadfully abused.”
11
Israel Putnam, a stout, burly American major general affectionately called “Old Put” by his troops, confronted one such procession. Known for his reckless courage and fighting spirit, he was nevertheless appalled by the abuse and would not stand for it. The rotund leader condemned his fellow patriots’ behavior and dispersed the angry mob. Surprisingly, however, Washington reprimanded Old Put for doing so.
While the commander would not order that Loyalists be abused—they were Americans, after all—he would not necessarily stop others from doing so. Washington scolded Old Put, arguing that “to discourage such proceedings was to injure the cause of liberty in which they were engaged, and that nobody would attempt it but an enemy of his country.”
12
Washington’s arguments justifying abuse sharpened further as the war went on and the Americans’ desperation increased.
Following the standstill at Boston, the British evacuated. In what was perhaps the most memorable Boston Saint Patrick’s Day parade, the redcoats marched down the city’s streets on March 17, 1776, and onto their cannon-laden ships. Howe retreated to Canada and the Americans rejoiced. Spontaneous celebrations erupted. Rum spilled into the streets of Boston to the sound of fife and drum.
But Washington knew better. He foresaw darker days ahead. Like many others, he predicted that New York City would be Howe’s next target. In light of Britain’s naval supremacy, the location was indefensible from the American military’s perspective. “What to do with the city?” asked Washington and his officers. “. . . It is so encircled with deep navigable waters that whoever commands the sea must command the town.”
13
While the British had over one hundred men-of-war in their worldwide armada, the Americans had zero. These were not good statistics for defending an island. But America and its political leaders expected a defense of the city, and the commander obliged. He marched with the Continental Army for over two hundred miles down from Boston to occupy Manhattan and Brooklyn.
Washington began to brace for the impending attack, ordering that his troops erect elaborate forts and dig trenches throughout the area. After months of toil, the Americans watched in dread as the British armada approached the city. But with his army in good health and good spirits, Washington tried to stay optimistic. Having chased the British from Boston, he hoped that he could repel their superior firepower and numbers again. He believed that the righteousness of the revolutionary cause would make the Americans formidable fighters even if they lacked experience and training. “Let us therefore animate and encourage each other,” he declared, “and show the whole world that a freeman, contending for his liberty on his own ground, is superior to any slavish mercenary on earth.”
14
America was drunk with confidence.
It was at this time, July 1776, that America was officially born. At the outset of hostilities in Massachusetts a year earlier, only the radicals had wanted independence while most of the colonists hoped for reunification. But after a year of fighting, reconciliation became impossible in the face of the British atrocities and America’s surging patriotism. Thomas Paine, a recent immigrant from Britain, wrote a stunning essay calling for an American republic to break from the British monarchy. This bestselling pamphlet,
Common Sense,
galvanized public support for independence and convinced the colonists that “The Sun never shined on a cause of greater worth” than their revolution.
15
In response, the congressmen decided to do something of which they became rather fond: they appointed a committee.