Standing on the ground where momentous events took place can evoke the reality of the past. Lexington Green, where patriot blood soaked the soil; Philadelphia’s Independence Hall; the tragic fields of Gettysburg.
No historical site in America is saturated quite so deeply with history as is Fort Ticonderoga. On May 10, we celebrate the 250th anniversary of the first offensive operation of the Revolutionary War: the patriot takeover of that key bastion. Situated between Lake Champlain and Lake George, Ticonderoga controlled a crucial waterway that led down from Canada to the Hudson River and on to New York City.
It was not a big battle — patriots captured the fort with barely a shot fired. But the event is strategically crucial. If Ticonderoga had stayed in British hands, the outcome of the war would have been thrown into doubt. What’s more, the takeover was led by two of the strangest and most erratic characters of the era.
Ticonderoga had entered history long before 1775. In 1609, the Frenchman Samuel de Champlain fought a skirmish on the same location. He fired a primitive musket on behalf of his Indian allies. Fast forward to 1758. The French had built Fort Carillon on the same location to defend their control of Canada. The British attacked their entrenched lines in a foolhardy head-on charge. The assault failed — 1,600 Britons lay dead, the bloodiest single battle on the continent until the American Civil War a century later.
Now, on the night of May 9, 1775, a band of back-woods vigilantes known as Green Mountain Boys, along with their leader, Ethan Allen, were gathered on the eastern shore of the lake. They planned to cross over the narrow body of water and attack the most formidable citadel on the continent. They were accompanied by the man who had originated the idea for the operation and had been given command by the patriot leadership — Benedict Arnold. After a brief stand-off over who should lead, Allen and Arnold agreed to a joint command.
Allen had organized the Green Mountain Boys not to fight the British but to pursue a land dispute between the colonies of New York and New Hampshire, both of which claimed the eastern shore of the lake (today’s Vermont).
Allen was raw-boned frontiersman, intelligent but half-educated, a restless dreamer with unorthodox views on religion and politics. He owned land in the disputed territory and would profit if he and his band of hooligans could prevail. When the governor of New York issued a proclamation condemning the Green Mountain Boys' abuses, Allen suggested “the Governor may stick it in his arse.”
Arnold, on the other hand, was a wealthy, established merchant from New Haven. He was so zealous for the American cause that he had abandoned his business and family the day after news of the violence at Lexington and Concord arrived. The seed of treason had yet to take root in his heart.
Arnold had marched to war with a small militia company and proposed the attack on Ticonderoga to the revolutionary leaders. Both he and Allen knew that speed was essential. Word of the outbreak of war in eastern Massachusetts had not yet reached the fort — the message had to travel north to Quebec, then to Montreal, and finally down the lake. British Captain William Delaplace had only 48 soldiers under his command to defend the stronghold. But if they went on high alert, the fort’s high walls and big guns would make it hard for the Americans, who lacked artillery, to take possession.
The attackers had to wait along the shore until one a.m. for a boat to transport them on the one-mile crossing. Stormy, contrary winds slowed the passage. They reached the western shore with the first group of eighty men, but had no time to get the rest over before dawn. The two commanders agreed to proceed with those on hand.
They trudged up the steep rise on which Ticonderoga sat. They crept toward the fort’s gate, acutely aware that a blast of grapeshot could kill half their force in an instant.
The sentry guarding the gate suddenly realized that figures were rushing at him through the gloom. He raised his musket and pulled the trigger — the gun didn’t go off. The Americans burst into the fort to find the remaining soldiers asleep. The redcoats quickly surrendered.
When their commander asked by whose authority the intruders had broken into the king’s fort, Allen replied that they had come “in the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress.” Whether God interested Himself in the affair was debatable, but the delegates of the Second Continental Congress knew nothing about it. In fact, when they heard of the incident, the Congressmen at first wanted to give the fort back — seizing royal property was going too far. They soon changed their minds.
Arnold followed up the success by mounting cannon on a small sailboat, proceeding to Canada, and capturing the only British warship on the lake. The Green Mountain Boys simply got drunk on the fort’s rum supply.
Fort Ticonderoga would serve as the base for the Americans’ invasion of Canada later in 1775. The next year, Benedict Arnold would fend off a British invasion in the war’s first naval battle. It wasn’t until 1777 that the enemy finally retook the fort. But by then the patriot forces were more experienced and better supplied. They stopped the invasion in the crucial battle at Saratoga, the turning point of the war.
Today, you can stand on the spot where history happened. The excellent programs and exhibits at Fort Ticonderoga really do bring the past to life.
Get up to speed for the events marking the 250th anniversary of the Revolution — read about the critical role played by America’s worst traitor HERE.
Hi Jack. Thank you again for a very interesting history story. I enjoy seeing Benedict Arnold be on the good side.
Thanks for bring this pivotal moment to life, Jack. From reading Valcour, Arnold seemed to rub folks the wrong way. But his vision for success was uncanny!