The Middlebury Register

An Unrecorded Hero.—How Blodget Captured The Red Coats on the Way to Ticonderoga.

We have all read of the intrepid courage of "Green Mountain Boys" at the time of the Revolutionary war, and the usual supposition is that all those of a patriotic spirit were to be found in the ranks of the American army, but many a brave man, perhaps by the force of circumstances, was obliged to tarry at home.

At the time the following incident occurred, the British were in possession of Fort Ticonderoga, and the towns for many miles around were subjected to the "lawless depredations" of "red coats," which around the just indignation of all who favored the "patriot cause." But as a little free speech often deprived a man of liberty, it was thought best (using a homely expression) to "grin and bear it."

One day a company of British soldiers, numbering about 20, in passing through the town of Cornwall, Vt., lingered around long enough to place a certain secret mark on the house of every person suspected or known to favor the patriots, that other of the "King's Own" who should follow after would know by this mystic sign where to find friend or foe.

Now this raised the ire of one man in particular, who determined to circumvent them by a little plot he had formed in his own mind. So taking the British officer aside and speaking in a cautious manner, this person (Blodget by name) said, "Say, now, be you goin' to Ticonderoga?" but without waiting for reply, continued, "for if you be, me and some of my neighbors want to go 'long with ye. We've been waitin' for some chance like this for a long time, and if you'll just march out of town, so as not to excite suspicion, you see, and will wait for us at a certain spot I can tell ye of, why, I'll see the other men and we'll join there. What say you?"

Now the army, both on the American and British side, was always willing to take new recruits whenever offered, and as this man's story seemed plausible enough, the British captain willingly acceded to the proposal of Blodget, who thereupon proceeded to appoint a rendezvous which was where the public highway or road was cut through a ledge of limestone rock, forming a wall some ten feet high on either side, on top of which was a stunted growth of trees.

Blodget requested the officer to wait there a certain length of time, and they would make all expedition in joining him.

As soon as Blodget saw the soldiers out of sight, he hastily mounted his horse and started out to inform his good "Whig" neighbors of his intention. It needed but a few words in those days to arouse a person's patriotism, so each man taking down his trusty firelock, or old fusee, with no military outfit, except the three-cornered hat of Gen.(!) Blodget, which he fortunately discovered in some old resting-place, they proceeded by a much shorter route to the point of rendezvous, so that they had time to secrete themselves among the bushes at the farther end of the limestone pass before the Britishers came up.

According to "Morse's History," published some six years ago, military tactics in those days were not by any means perfect; even Gen. Putnam overpowered by strategy rather than numbers. Soon was heard the tramp, tramp, tramp of the soldiers as they marched into the pass, where they were expecting to halt at the further end and wait for the recruits to join them, but when midway between either opening, with the great rocks, as impenetrable as prison walls, rising on two sides of them, even obstructing the sunlight for a time, they were astonished at hearing a stentorian voice cry "halt!" They stopped, surprised, when the impromptu Gen. Blodget, who had reined his horse directly in front of the opening, commanded them to lay down their arms and surrender. At first the officer attempted to parley, but Blodget knew it would not do to give time to consider the proposition, so he again cried in a loud voice, amid a great flourish of arms (in the background), "First platoon, rise and"

But there was no necessity for him to add "fire!" as the captain (supposing themselves surrounded by a large body of American soldiers) by a sign gave the other to understand that he would surrender. Then Blodget ordered the twenty men to walk off a number of paces, stack their arms, and fall back again. Having done so, he ordered five of his one company to take possession of them, as the five were all the men he could muster. Strange as it may appear, they really marched the twenty as prisoners of war, not to Ticonderoga, but to Gen. Stark, then at Bennington.—[Rochester, N. Y. Union.