t would have had no separate existence. But
for Ethan Allen, New York's northeastern boundary would have been the
Connecticut River. Therefore, on one shore of Lake Champlain the
disputed shield is unalloyed gold, reflecting all that is strong and
brave, all that is courageous and magnanimous, all that is patriotic and
generous, while from the other shore its appearance is as brass engraven
by vanity and vulgarity, by self-sufficiency and infidelity.

[Illustration: Ethan Allen.]

Controversy over property rights engenders such diversities of opinion,
and when, as in this case, one side gains all and the other loses much,
the exultation of triumph or the bitterness of defeat will color the ink
of all literature on the subject for a century to come.

Not until after the year 1761 did the dense wilderness of either
Northern New York, or what was then considered Western New Hampshire,
prove attractive to the Yankee or Dutch settler in search of a pioneer
home. The cruel conflicts that for over seventy years had made these
border lands the scene of bloody race enmities were ended by the
conquest of Canada. These primeval forests, that had echoed only to the
tread of skulking savages, or the revengeful tramp of opposing forces,
became peaceful spots for the erection of hearth-stones around which
women and children might gather in safety. Many of the Connecticut
soldiery who had taken active part in the late French and Indian wars,
now recalled the beautiful country through which they had marched to
meet or pursue the foe, the grandeur of its evergreen mountain peaks,
the limpid sheets of water nestling between, its sparkling fish-laden
streams, and the apparent fertility of its soil.

These recollections were stimulated by the conditions which confronted
them on their return to peaceful and agricultural pursuits. The
subdivision of farms among the many robust sons of the average New
England household had reached its limit, and the young man who would
found a home and family of his own, thenceforth must seek for cheaper
and broader acres than were to be found already under cultivation. New
Hampshire's liberal offer of grants in her western border upon easy
terms, decided the future of many a New England lad, and for several
years the tide of emigration rolled steadily northward.

From Burlington, on Lake Champlain, for one hundred miles south to
Bennington, the sound of the axe was heard by day and by night. The
enthusia