Buckskin Pimpernel

by Mary Beacock Fryer

  Riding south as fast as he could, Justus reached Hand's Cove at noon, by which time Allen and Arnold had captured the fort. The 80 men sent in the first wave was sufficient to force the garrison into submission. Justus was pleased with the results, disappointed at missing the action, and disconcerted over the looting spree that met his eyes. Meanwhile, Seth Warner had taken a group to capture the ten British regulars that made up the garrison at Crown Point. Remember Baker had occupied Skenesborough, which had a dockyard and was a potential naval base. The village was on a large estate owned by the wealthy Philip Skene, a leader of the Tory party which opposed independence. At the time Skene was on a visit to England. By late afternoon Lake Champlain was entirely under the control of men from the New Hampshire Grants.14

  To Sherwood's amusement Ethan Allen and Benedict Arnold were soon squabbling. Arnold was determined to take the heavy guns from Ty to Boston, where the rebels needed them to drive the British army out of the city. Allen wanted them at the fort so that his Green Mountain Boys could remain in command of the lake, and incidently protect the interests of the Onion River Land Company. The excitement over, Justus rode home to New Haven. Throughout the summer he pondered the situation in the Thirteen Colonies. By the autumn, when he discovered that the rebels were forming an expedition to capture Canada and were calling for volunteers, he had decided where his priorities lay.

  The capture of Ticonderoga had been protection for his holdings, but an attack on one of the King's provinces was a much more serious matter. For pragmatic reasons Justus had to support his sovereign. To avoid a confrontation, he arranged to be absent in the woods, cutting timber, whenever he heard that agents were in the neighbourhood in quest of recruits, until the expedition had left Lake Champlain. Carefully he laid his plans.

  Since 1774, when the Continental Congress first met in Philadelphia, the Yankees in the New Hampshire Grants had been petitioning the Congress to establish a separate state. The New York delegates were opposed to surrendering any territory, and nothing had happened. Justus reasoned that his fellow settlers would be shrewd if they adopted the opposite stance to the Congress. The British government might reward the people in the Green Mountains by setting up a separate province — provided enough of them stayed loyal.

  From friends in Bennington, Justus learned that Ethan Allen had lost the command of the Green Mountain Boys. He had asked the men of the Grants to proclaim his band of roughnecks an official militia, and the matter was put to a vote. It carried, but the older men feared Ethan's rashness and demanded another vote on who should lead the regiment. It went in favour of Seth Warner, Ethan's younger but more conservative cousin. Seth had taken the regiment to Canada, while Ethan had gone along as a volunteer, rather than miss a good fight.15

  Meanwhile, in New Haven, Justus soon heard that Remember Baker had met a sad end. Sent to spy on the British outposts along the Richelieu River, he was shot by some Indians scouting for Governor Carleton. They removed Baker's head, carried it to Fort St. Johns and mounted it on a pole. The horrified British officers ordered it taken down and given a decent burial.16 Also, in the fighting outside Montreal, Ethan had been captured. Justus pitied him and hoped that most of his friends would escape and reach home safely.

  In the spring of 1776, resentment ran high in the New Hampshire Grants. Aided by Ticonderoga's guns, taken through the woods during the winter, the rebels had chased the British troops out of Boston, but the expedition to conquer Canada was a dismal failure. Then word reached the Green Mountains that Ethan had been clapped in irons and shipped to England. Not long afterwards Justus went on a business trip to Bennington, and he chose the wrong time and place to speak his mind freely. Entering into a discussion on the Canadian misadventure in the Green Mountain Tavern, his companions demanded to know why he had not gone with the expedition. Seizing the opportunity, without weighing the consequences, Justus put forth what he thought were sound reasons for evading rebel exhortations to join them, and voicing the case for supporting Britain. The atmosphere became electric, then the mutterings became a rumble rising in crescendo to thunder in his ears.

  He tried to back out of the tavern but a gang of rebels subdued him and brought him before Judge Charles Lynch of the Grand Council of Safety, a zealous foe of the Tories. Justus watched warily, knowing he was in for some humiliation but confident the rebels would never dare harm him. His father-in-law was only 16 kilometres away, and he had many friends around Arlington, nicknamed Tory Hollow', who would march in and do battle. The judge thought so, too, for the sentence, while unnerving, was only twenty lashes. Justus Sherwood, the former Green Mountain Boy, was about to taste the twigs of the wilderness. He was led shirtless to the village green, and the strokes were laid on with a beech rod before a jeering crowd.17

  Flinging his shirt over the bleeding stripes, feeling as though his back had been set on fire, Justus stumbled blindly towards the stable in the tavern to fetch his horse. Galloping towards the Bothum farm, his sense of outrage mounted to fever pitch. If the damn rebels thought they could intimidate him they were mistaken. After Dorothy Bothum had put salve on the wounds, he wrote a letter to Governor Tryon, offering his services, arranged to have it carried to New York City by someone he could trust, and set out for his farm in New Haven.

  In due course he received a packet containing a letter bearing the governor's seal. Tryon expressed surprise at the prospect of assistance from an unlikely source, and recommended that Justus remain at home, supplying information to scouts working for Governor Carleton in Canada, whose residence in Quebec City was more secure. Below his signature the governor had written ‘Aboard the Duchess of Gordon’. His Excellency had taken refuge on a ship of war to elude the rebels marching in the streets of New York City.18

  By the end of August the local Committee of Safety had become suspicious, and sent an armed force to storm the Sherwood house in New Haven. While they ransacked his papers they did not find the township records. These Justus had buried in a potash kettle beside his house,19 lest the content of the discussions at town meetings incriminate him or any of his friends. After his arrest the rebels took him to Bennington, and lodged him in the only prison available, the stable of the Green Mountain Tavern. For a month Justus fretted in his prison. As his fortunes declined, those of Governor Tryon improved. In September a large British army occupied Manhattan, Staten and Long Islands, and Tryon was once more ensconced in his mansion.

  Later that same month came Sherwood's trial before the Grand Council of Safety and Judge Charles Lynch. While Justus admitted only that he was accused of sending information to Carleton, the rebels' decision to send him to Simsbury Mines indicates that he was spying, and they had made their decision on what to do with him after some deliberation. They had evidence and felt justified in hanging him, but fear of retaliation hung over their heads. His friends might march on Bennington to rescue him, or hang someone in revenge. If the council removed him from the scene, his supporters would expend their energies scheming to have him set free. Judge Lynch chose Simsbury Mines because they were secure and 100 kilometres south of Bennington. Albany had a gaol, but prisoners sometimes escaped; besides, the Green Mountain men did not want to call upon New York for assistance. The trial over, the Grand Council arranged for Sherwood's journey to Connecticut with discretion.

  Mob rule was commonplace in the Green Mountains, and the members knew they must move quickly. For that reason they assigned only three guards to the wagon. When Justus escaped he made his furtive visit to Shaftsbury, signed his farm in New Haven over to his father-in-law, and after some friends joined him, marched to Crown Point.

  Justus was impressed at the sight of the army, 8,000 strong. The British regulars were in red coats, the artillerymen in blue. The Germans were also in blue, except for companies of green coated riflemen — troops rented from several German principalities for service in America. Disparagingly called mercenaries by the rebels, the Germans were for the most part trained professional regulars,
proud of their abilities.

  With Sir Guy Carleton were several subordinates who would have direct dealings with Justus Sherwood in the near future. General John Burgoyne was Carleton's second-in-command. Also present was Brigadier Simon Fraser, under whom Justus would see most of his active service, and the Baron von Riedesel, the commander of the German troops. Justus assumed that this well equipped army would continue up Lake Champlain and occupy Fort Ticonderoga. The time was ripe for the rebel garrison, although about as large as Carleton's army, was ill prepared. The very occupation he had dreaded in May of 1775 would now be his salvation and he could soon return to New Haven. Then, to his dismay, he heard that Carleton had decided it was too late to proceed that season, and had ordered a withdrawal to Fort St. Johns, on the Richelieu River inside Canada.

  Among the loyalists who went into winter quarters near Montreal were several with whom Justus would have a close association. Sir John Johnson, the heir of the late Superintendent of Indian Affairs, had permission to raise a battalion of New Yorkers from among the tenants on his estates in the Mohawk Valley. John Peters, Connecticut-born, from the part of Gloucester County that lay on the east side of the Green Mountains, had come with the rebels to Montreal the year before in order to defect. Edward Jessup was there with his brothers, Ebenezer and Joseph. Men with business interests in Albany and Charlotte Counties, the Jessups had also brought a party of men. Francis Pfister, a former British officer who lived near Bennington, had come with some followers. John Peters, Francis Pfister and Ebenezer Jessup had received permission from Governor Tryon to raise battalions, and this was to have serious consequences later on. All these leaders would be Sherwood's colleagues in the months and years that lay ahead.

  Chapter 2

  Secret Mission

  Sir Guy Carleton was anything but delighted at the arrival of Sherwood and the other loyalists eager to enlist. Writing to Brigadier William Phillips, the commandant of Fort St. Johns, on October 29, 1776, he said he would have been happier had they remained in their homes until he was ready to start another campaign in New York in the spring of 1777.1 The governor-in-chief was not certain he had the authority to let loyalists enlist or allow them pay. The decision to allow Sir John Johnson to raise a battalion had been an easy one, for he was wealthy and could outfit a regiment from his own purse. At first, Carleton ordered the Jessups, Francis Pfister and Justus Sherwood, with the men they had piloted to Crown Point, to join Sir John Johnson's battalion, the King's Royal Regiment of New York.

  Ebenezer Jessup, John Peters and Francis Pfister maintained that they had permission from Governor Tryon of New York, to raise battalions, and Sir William Howe, the commander-in-chief at New York City, had already approved the appointment of some officers. Justus was confused. He wanted to serve under John Peters, a Yankee he thought he would find compatible. All the men who had followed Sherwood, Jessup and Pfister insisted that they be commanded by officers of their own choosing. Such had been their right in the colonial militia, but Carleton deemed this nonsense.

  At length, to quell the disturbance, he ordered all the loyalists placed under Sir John Johnson so that they could be provisioned and paid. All were to report to Major James Gray, Sir John's second-in-command, and they were to march to Pointe Claire.2 Except for the men who had been promised commissions by Tryon, and those already appointed by Howe, all would be paid as privates — sixpence a day with deductions for rations, clothing and hospital expenses. Those who were willing to work could do fatigue duty on the defences around Montreal. Carleton wanted to ensure that the city would never again be vulnerable to attack by the rebels.

  Willingly Justus agreed to do fatigue duty. Chopping down trees for fortifications was little different from building his first cabin in New Haven or constructing timber rafts, but his mood was bleak. His thoughts were ever in the Green Mountains. What was happening to his property? How was his beloved Sarah, who would have her baby soon, without any moral support from him? He prayed the rebels would not harass the Bothum family because he had escaped and taken Elijah with him.

  With the coming of spring, a new mood of optimism was alive in Canada, and Justus believed that his exile was nearly over. Sir Guy Carleton was preparing his invasion of New York State, stock-piling supplies at Fort St. Johns, which the regulars had been strengthening all winter. General John Burgoyne, who had gone to England on a leave of absence, was expected any day, with new instructions from the colonial secretary, Lord George Germain, and the War Office. Late in March, Major James Gray sent for Justus. Gray was in charge of the loyalists for Sir John Johnson was on a visit to New York City. The major ordered Justus to proceed to Fort St. Johns and report to the commandant, Brigadier William Phillips, for a special assignment.

  Justus travelled on a stage-coach along the road from the south shore of the St. Lawrence River overland to the Richelieu River, a distance of some forty kilometres. From Phillips, dressed in the blue coat and red facings of an artillery officer, Justus learned that Governor Carleton wanted him to take a party of five men who knew the country and go on foot to Fort Ticonderoga, to reconnoitre the fortifications. Afterward they were to go as far as Albany and report on all the rebel fortifications in the British army's path, information vital to the success of the expedition soon to embark.3 The men to accompany Justus were chosen by Major Gray, and late in the day they arrived at Fort St. Johns.

  Armed with orders from Brigadier Phillips, Justus approached the Quartermaster's Department and the Commissary for equipment and provisions, and to draw warm clothing — blanket coats with bright coloured strips, knitted caps, buckskin leggings to be worn over breeches and stockings, and fur-lined moccasins. Each man would carry a firearm, a tomahawk tucked into his belt, a knapsack of provisions, a blanket rolled up and secured with twine, and a pair of snowshoes. Justus required a spyglass, quills, a block of ink, a note-book, and a white sheet from the officers' stock to serve as camouflage — this last wrested from the Quartermaster after an argument. Although he had many friends in rebel territory to help him, Brigadier Phillips supplied him with a list of names of people who provided safe houses for secret agents which Justus was to memorize and destroy.

  After a night in the barracks Sherwood's party of spies marched thirteen kilometres to Isle aux Noix, the next outpost to the south, where they were taken aboard a bateau for the journey to the outpost at Pointe au Fer. From there a trail through the forest led to Crown Point, on Lake Champlain, and between that ruin and Fort Ticonderoga was a military road of sorts. The time of year was wet and sloppy. The sun melted the snow during the day though the temperature dropped below freezing after sundown. Snowshoes were necessary for travel through the deep snow in the bush. Justus was accustomed to bivouacking outdoors and he knew how to keep his men warm and dry. From Crown Point onward they had to be cautious. Rebel patrols were likely to be scouting along the military road, or lying in wait in the woods, aware that Carleton must have agents out gathering intelligence.

  Overlooking Fort Ticonderoga was a small steep mountain called Sugar Hill because it resembled a loaf of sugar. To Justus it was better known as Rattlesnake Hill, and the perfect vantage point from which to view the rebel position, provided they had not fortified it. Justus reckoned, by scaling the side of the hill that faced away from the fort and creeping carefully over the summit, he would have an excellent view of the rebels, but there were risks. With no foliage, a man moving on the hill might be spotted by watchers in the fort. Here the white sheet would come in handy. He made a short reconnaissance himself, leaving his men concealed, and could find no evidence that the rebels had put a battery on the summit of Rattlesnake Hill.

  He guided his party inland through the trees and they began climbing, pulling themselves up by means of saplings, digging the toes of their moccasins into the soft snow. Below the summit Justus stopped and cut a hole in the white sheet for his face, and donned it before executing the next phase of the operation. Alone he went to the top, and descended slow
ly until he had a good view of his objective. He removed the spyglass, noted that the sun was behind him and his glass would not flash and alert the rebels, and began examining what lay below him.

  Fort Ticonderoga guarded the best route between the settled parts of New York State and the Province of Canada. On a promontory facing the east side of the lake, it was set against the backdrop of the Adirondack Mountains, where the lake was scarcely 400 metres wide. Built by the French, it had been captured by the British in 1759, had been held by the rebels ever since the escapade with Ethan Allen two springs ago. On the east side of the lake, facing Ty, were huge new fortification which had not existed when the Green Mountain Boys captured the fort. A log boom, with a row of bateaux tied along it, lay across the narrow waterway linking the two fortified sites, and Justus could see men crossing over it.4

  The rebels had done a lot of building on the east side of the lake, but the walls of Ticonderoga were crumbling and had had no repairs. While Ty was a massive stone structure with inner and outer walls and elevated gun batteries, the new fortifications were of sod and earthwork with wooden stockading. It looked promising. Back at Fort St. Johns, Carleton's new frigate, the Royal George, lay at anchor. From his knowledge of ships Justus thought she was about 400 tons (this was long tons, equal to about 41 metric tons), a large vessel for Lake Champlain, and she carried 24-pounder guns which would easily reduce these forts.

  Justus needed more information on the size of the guns the rebels had, and the strength of the garrison. From Rattlesnake Hill he could tell that the rebels had not brought the big guns back from Boston. Only eight cannon were visible on the batteries, 16-pounders, he reckoned. He also noted six smaller guns mounted at the old French redoubt. Now his party must move in closer, and he would have to visit people he could trust. The following morning, despite all his precautions, suddenly behind them in the deep woods a party of rebels appeared. Because they were not wearing snowshoes, Justus ordered the men to run towards the lake where they could make better time on the thin skirting of ice not yet melted. Cursing the lack of foliage for cover, they hoped to outrun their pursuers. Justus explained: