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CHAPTER I.
AT THE COURTHOUSE.
It was a cold, bleak and freezing day, was that second day of the year1764, in the good town of Bennington.
The first day of the year had been celebrated in a devout fashion bynearly all the inhabitants of the district. Truly, some stayed awayfrom the meeting-house, and especially was the absence of one familynoticed.
"It seems to me kind of strange and creepy-like that those Allen boyswill never come to meeting," good old Elder Baker had said, and thepeople shook their heads, and were quite ready to believe that theAllen boys were uncanny.
But after meeting, when the social celebration was at its height, theabsence from the meeting-house was not thought of, and Ethan Allen andhis brothers were welcomed as among the best farmers of the district.
When the farmers separated on that New Year's Day they had no thoughtof trouble, and each and all were planning what crops they should plantthat year, and how much land they should reserve for pasture.
The snow was falling fast, and the Green Mountains looked grandlyglorious as they, capped with the white snow, reflected into thevalleys the feeble rays of the sun which were struggling through theclouds.
The hour of noon had arrived, and the good farmers were sitting down togood boiled dinners, which were as seasonable as the weather, when theringing of the crier's bell caused every man and woman and child toleave the hot dinner and hurry to the door to hear the news.
All public and important events were announced in that manner, and itwould not do to miss an announcement.
"Wonder what is in the wind now, eh, master?"
"Cannot say, but it's likely to be important, for Faithful Quincy hason his best coat."
Faithful Quincy was the official crier, or announcer of events, and wasa most important character.
He never spoke one word, though everyone asked him what he had toannounce, but he stood as silent as a statue, and as rigid until hethought the people had time to assemble.
Then he rang his bell once more, and followed the last sound of thebrass with a most solemn appeal for attention:
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!"
Three times the phrase had to be repeated. Faithful would not havedone his duty if he had only repeated it twice.
"This is to give notice, in the name of his majesty and of hisexcellency, the governor, that all true and faithful residents of theGreen Mountain district must assemble at the courthouse at two hoursafter noon, on this second day of January. So let it be!"
That was all, but it was enough to set all the people wondering whatwas to be heard at the courthouse.
They returned to their homes, and finished their dinners, scarcelynoticing that the dumplings were cold or that the boiled carrots hadgot soggy through long standing.
At two a large crowd had assembled at the courthouse, and all were ingreat excitement.
It was just three minutes after the hour, as shown by the sundial,which stood in front of the courthouse, that the sheriff appeared.
Not a murmur was heard. Even the children were silent.
The sheriff was trembling.
He held in his hand a piece of parchment, bearing a big red seal at thebottom, and he tried to read it, but his voice failed him.
After several attempts he succeeded, and the people learned that he hadreceived a proclamation from Gov. Tryon, of the Colony of New York, inwhich he claimed all the territory west of the Connecticut River, andordering him to send a list of all persons holding land under grantsfrom the Colony of New Hampshire.
The country west of the Connecticut, now known as Vermont, was thenonly known as "New Hampshire grants."
When the sheriff had finished he asked what he should do.
"Why did you receive it?" asked one of the oldest residents.
"It was sent to me as sheriff."
"Even so, but you are the sheriff of the district which holds its landsfrom the Colony of New Hampshire."
The sheriff trembled, fearing he had done some wrong.
"It is in the name of his majesty, the king," he muttered; "and I wasbound to receive it."
Through the crowd a young man pushed his way. He reached the side ofthe sheriff, and in a mild but firm voice asked to be allowed to lookat the proclamation.
It was no ordinary man who made the demand. He would have attractedattention anywhere, and among those who knew him best he was esteemed,though the devout believed there was something uncanny about him andhis family.
He was Ethan Allen, the head of the Allen boys, who had stayed awayfrom the meeting the day before.
"Men," he said, after glancing at the proclamation, "we hold our landsfrom the governor of the Colony of New Hampshire. Is it not so?"
"You are right, Ethan."
"We pay our quota to the expenses of that colony. Is it not so?"
"It is."
"Then we have nothing to do with the Colony of New York."
