Washington’s Gamble – The Sullivan–Clinton Campaign

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Washington’s GambleWashington’s Gamble began when frontier war threatened the survival of the Revolution itself. The growing violence on the western frontiers of Pennsylvania and New York left him little choice. It was one he had hoped to avoid. But it was the response demanded by Congress. The steady stream of reports from the frontier forced them to act.

Zebulon Butler, who led the defense (and retreat) during the Wyoming Massacre, attested to continued incursions. In a letter to General Hand on March 23, 1779, the Pennsylvanian wrote, “…after severe skirmishing for two hours and a half, the enemy carried off sixty head of horned cattle, 20 horses, and shot my riding horse, which they could not catch, and burnt five barns that were partly full of grain and hay, and 10 houses, which the inhabitants had deserted. They shot a number of hogs and sheep, that they left lying.” He asked that the information be relayed to General Washington.1

Even before Butler’s letter to Hand, Congress had received letters from the governors of Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and New York. On February 25, 1779, they appointed their Commander-in-Chief to raise five companies of rangers. The resolution directed Washington to Continue Reading “Washington’s Gamble – The Sullivan–Clinton Campaign”

The Shot Not Heard ’Round the World: Vermont’s First Taste of Independence

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Vermont independenceHigh above the Connecticut River sits a mile-long shelf comfortably nestled within the broad curve of the oxbowing waterway in the fertile eastern valley beneath the rolling foothills of the Green Mountains. It had long attracted inhabitants, but the vagaries of violence had repeatedly forced them out.

The land lies dormant. But enticing. Open. Exposed. Its potential untapped.

Beyond the mountains, out of sight, Albany holds court, too distant to exercise its authority over the outer reaches of its boundary. Closer, on the opposite shore of the river, New Hampshire saw it as an avenue of expansion.

Both colonies claimed it. Neither controlled it.

Yet, into that void, settlers arrived.

The first colonists to settle what would become Westminster, Vermont, came from Continue Reading “The Shot Not Heard ’Round the World: Vermont’s First Taste of Independence”

William French and the Westminster Massacre

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Westminster MassacreOn a late Winter morning in 1775, William French woke up for the last time. The lively 22-year-old lived in the Town of Bennington—itself scarcely older than he was.

Self-named by Benning Wentworth, Governor of New Hampshire, Bennington became—in 1741—the first township granted west of the Connecticut River. It was a fact that would soon matter far more than anyone expected.

French headed to Westminster, a small hamlet on the west side of the Connecticut River, nestled in the broad curve of the oxbowing waterway, in the fertile eastern valley beneath the Green Mountains.

That afternoon, French walked along King’s Highway to the farmhouse of Capt. Axariah Wright, an eccentric old patriot. There he met Daniel Houghton and nearly 100 other men. They were there to confront a problem they believed could no longer be avoided.Continue Reading “William French and the Westminster Massacre”

Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: The Making Of The Buffalo And Erie Road

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Previous: Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: The State Of Greater Western New York In 1825

At the turn of the 19th century, a dense forest covered the southwest corner of New York State—what is now Chautauqua County. A rough trail that followed the Lake Erie shore represented the only visible evidence of human occupation. Except for what appeared to be remnants of a chimney right on the lake.1 The trail was brutal. Settlers journeying to Connecticut’s lands in the future state of Ohio preferred to take the water route over Lake Erie from Black Rock, just off Buffalo Creek.2

That chimney might well have been the ruins of what Sir William Johnson described as a Continue Reading “Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: The Making Of The Buffalo And Erie Road”

I’ll Have One for the Road and Two for the Sea

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And let me the canakin clink, clink,
And let me the canakin clink.
A soldier’s a man;
A life’s but a span;
Why, then, let a soldier drink.
– Othello

The reason James Fenimore Cooper strode into Hustler’s Tavern has disappeared into the hazy mists of history. By 1821, his life had been less than pristine. Kicked out of
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Yale after three years as a trouble-maker (he blew up a classmate’s door), the son of a (probably embarrassed) Congressman who founded the City of Cooperstown did what any other lost teenager trying to find himself did in the early eighteenth century – he joined the Merchant Marine.1

Perhaps he remembered his earlier, albeit brief, stay in the Niagara Frontier just before the War of 1812.2 Serving mostly overseas, he saw some of his best crewmates taken from their ships and forced to serve aboard British warships against Napoleonic France. Like the rest of America, he detested Continue Reading “I’ll Have One for the Road and Two for the Sea”

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