Buckskin Pimpernel

by Mary Beacock Fryer

  Justus was a British American who espoused a losing cause, one that failed through British bungling and French military intervention, not because of adroitness on the part of the rebels. Like other loyalists, Sherwood had to be erased from American history because he detracted from the myth of oppressed colonists seeking justice through rebellion. The Canadian reaction has not been much better. The myth that all the loyalists came to Canada after the revolution refuses to die. It overlooks the presence in Canada of provincial soldiers like Sherwood from 1775 onwards, and the refugee camps.

  Loyalists wrote very little about themselves, and biographies of individuals are rare, and frequently brief because of a dearth of information. One exception is William Smith, later Chief Justice of Canada. He left private letters and diaries that invoke the portrait of a man in satin, powdered hair in side curls, queue tied with a velvet ribbon. Imagine instead a man sporting a frontier crop, hair barely touching his collar, clad in buckskin leggings and a knee length fringed hunting shirt, gazing over Lake Champlain. Such a man was Justus Sherwood.

  Confusing to many students of loyalists was the fact that there were two named Justus Sherwood. Both were secret agents and some writers have lumped them together as one man.8 The other Justus Sherwood was from Westchester County, New York, and after the American Revolution he settled in New Brunswick. The subject of this biography settled in what became the Province of Ontario, and his extensive correspondence is preserved in the papers of General Frederick Haldimand.

  What events in Sherwood's early life made him fitted for the role he played? One quality shines clear. He was a dominant male in a frontier society where strength ruled. Since by his own admission he was not a ‘burly fellow’,9 he had about him an air that could make men wary. He was forthright, brave, inclined to speak up before weighing the consequences. His handwriting reveals a man whose thoughts raced, but whose excellent co-ordination allowed his pen to keep pace. Warmth and ability to show affection were strong qualities, but coolness and practicability are to be found in certain of the strokes.10

  British regular officers were inclined to sneer at mere provincials, but most made an exception of Justus Sherwood. Here was one colonial who impressed them by his bearing, and none ever cast aspersions on him after meeting him face to face.

  Chapter 1

  Outlaw, Rebel, Loyalist

  Justus Sherwood was descended from Thomas Sherwood and his wife Alice who left England for Massachusetts Bay in 1634.1 With the founder of the American branch of the Sherwood family, a behavior pattern emerged that surfaced in Justus himself. Thomas found the rule of the Massachusetts leaders onerous, and he soon moved to Connecticut, settling in Fairfield. The Puritan ideal was a form of communism, where all worked for the good of the whole. Dissidents were encouraged to depart and found their own settlements in what they called the ‘howling wilderness’.

  John Sherwood, Justus' father, was born in the seaport of Stratford, Connecticut, one of several sons of a Dr. Thomas Sherwood. John settled in Newtown, 50 kilometres from the coast, up the Housatonic River, where, on April 6, 1717, at age seventeen years, eight months, he married Hannah Patrick, a maid of only sixteen years. Justus was their tenth child, his date of birth March 7, 1747. His father was a farmer, but he had other business interests. In soil exhausted, over-crowded Connecticut, he had to turn to many pursuits to support such a large brood. In order of age the Sherwood children were: Sarah (1728); John Patrick (1730); Rachel (1732); Ebenezer (1734); Hannah (1736); Bethuel (1738); Samuel I (1741-1753); Jemima I (1743-1754); Abigail (1745); Justus (1747); Daniel (1749); Joshua (1751); Samuel II (1754); Jemima II (1756).

  Justus' training in leadership began when he was six years old. With the premature death of his elder brother Samuel, he lost his natural protector. Bethuel was fifteen at the time and rarely on hand when his small brother needed him. At the village school Justus had no big brother to run and stand beside when someone decided to punch him. He had to fight his own battles, and those of the three young brothers who came after him.

  His writings indicate that he received a better education than was available in Newtown, which had six school districts but no grammar school. Justus never used classical allusion characteristic of men educated in grammar schools and colleges, but his father sent him to Stratford, a longer settled community that had a grammar school. Two of Sherwood's journals reveal a knowledge of coastal fisheries, sailing and ships, and an eye for a good harbour, skills he would never have acquired had he lived only in Newtown before he left for the New Hampshire Grants.

  Colonial grammar schools offered Latin and Greek, but they also trained boys in writing, arithmetic and practical subjects for a lower fee. As a matter of economy Justus was relegated to the English side of the school, and he studied surveying. This training spared him seven years as an apprentice, and he was able to earn his own living before he was twenty-one. His drive and ambition were evident early. By the time he was old enough to hold property he was ready to buy a small farm.

  On August 31, 1768 — the year he came of age — Justus purchased a ten to twelve acre parcel (approximately 4 to 5 hectares) with a house on it from his brother Ebenezer for 14 pounds. In October 1769 he bought six acres (2½ hectares) for 50 pounds that had thirteen rods of frontage on Cranberry Pond, a better investment for it had access to water. Then in February 1771, with his brother Daniel, he bought six acres for 50 pounds. In October he sold his interest in this latter parcel to Daniel for 25 pounds because he was planning to move to the frontier, where, for similar sums he could buy acreages by the hundreds.3

  The appeal of cheap land was a strong motive, but Justus had another for leaving his native province. The Congregational Church had held sway since Connecticut was founded, although Anglican parishes were forming, and Baptists were making inroads on hitherto solidly Congregational ranks. This church, the established one, was itself torn by dissent. Certain of Justus' attitudes indicate that he was raised a Congregationalist, but religion was not very important to him. Secretly he longed to join the Anglicans, mainly because the Church of England demanded less of its members. In the part of the New Hampshire Grants where Justus later settled were many others who had fled the rigours of Congregationalism.

  Attendance at the Newtown Meeting House each Sunday was an ordeal. Women and girls sat together, separate from the men, while the boys were placed on the steps leading to the pulpit under the eyes of the minister and the entire congregation. Each week the minister preached the virtue of diligence and proclaimed avarice a sin, as Congregational preachers had done for more than a century. During Justus' youth these words had lost some of their original fire, but the sight of the community leaders, all of whom had achieved material success — a possible consequence of avarice — was a lesson not lost on young Justus Sherwood.

  Then, too, the magistrates who were elected to preside over the courts were invariably men of wealth. Regardless of the theme of the sermon, Justus could see which men were the most godly in the eyes of the whole community. In short, Justus' background had made him an ambitious Yankee, but one whose actions were tempered by a Puritan conscience. After Yankee diligence and frugality brought security, Justus believed that a man had a responsibility to look to the public good and show concern for the less fortunate.4

  Once he resolved to leave Connecticut, Justus had to decide where he would settle. Two of his uncles, Adiel and Seth Sherwood, had taken their families to Fort Edward on the upper Hudson River, an area that did not attract Justus. Most New York farmers leased their land, for that province was feudal, with great estates and a landed gentry. In the New Hampshire Grants, so Justus understood from other people whose families had gone there, a man could buy land outright.

  Connecticut men had been freeholders since the time King Charles II toyed with the notion of giving part of the colony to one of his brothers as a dukedom. When it was rumoured that land not in private ownership would belong to the crown, the Puritan leaders distributed parc
els to individuals. Over-night freeholding became the goal of every freeborn man,5 and Justus had no intention of working land he could never own. In the course of the winter of 1771-1772, he made his way to the frontier. By the spring he had been established long enough to have made an impression on the local people. He had met his future wife, Sarah Bothum, and made an enemy of a local law officer.

  Not far from the Bothum farm in Shaftsbury Township dwelt a Scots veteran of the Seven Years' War named John Munro. He was an unpopular man with the Yankees, especially after he accepted an appointment as a magistrate from New York's latest royal governor, William Tryon. His Excellency had recently arrived in New York City to take up his duties, and he was determined to bring law and order to certain remote parts of his realm.

  On March 22, Magistrate Munro was passing the Bothum farm in a sleigh with a prisoner with the memorable name of Remember Baker. Sarah's sister Dolly noticed the sleigh and recognized the prisoner, his hands bound and bleeding, and gave the alarm. With thirteen men Justus rode in pursuit to effect a rescue, and the posse accompanying Munro fled into the woods. Recognizing Sherwood, Munro ordered him to come to his aid, but Justus was assisting the prisoner. An irate Munro hurried to Albany to complain to the sheriff about the wickedness of certain folk in the Green Mountains.6 For this and other instances of rioting Justus found himself an outlaw with a price of 50 pounds on his head.7

  He did not hesitate to embroil himself in the quarrel on behalf of his fellow Yankees, for he had bought 100 acres (40 hectares) from Samuel Rose, which fronted on the Battenkill River in Sunderland Township, a short distance from the village of Arlington.8 Justus was scarcely settled before he made an alarming discovery. The title to his farm was not secure. At any moment a New York owner might claim the land — a discovery that left him momentarily stunned.

  Connecticut was a charter province where the members of the legislative assembly were elected, as in other colonies, but so were most officials and the governor himself. New York and New Hampshire were royal provinces, where the governors and other officials were appointed by the crown — men who could not be turned out of office at the will of the enfranchised citizens. In leaving Connecticut Justus had forfeited some of his God-given democratic rights. The situation in the Grants did not permit a man to be neutral, and an aroused, worried Sherwood sided with his own people.

  The source of the trouble lay back in the 1740s, when the Province of New Hampshire was separated from Massachusetts. That started the struggle between successive royal governors of New York and the new province. The governors of New Hampshire awarded grants of land between the Connecticut and Hudson Rivers, hence the name New Hampshire Grants. New York also claimed that territory, and the royal governor of the day complained to the British government. Meanwhile, New Hampshire went on granting land in the expectation that the only peaceful solution would be to place the Grants under that jurisdiction, until, in 1764, the home government decided in favour of New York's claim.

  This ruling was disturbing to farmers with little cash, ruinous to large land speculators. The governors of New York refused to recognize the New Hampshire titles unless the holders paid them quit rents. These amounted to two shillings, sixpence per 100 acres (40 hectares) per annum,9 the rate in other parts of New York. Most New Englanders refused to pay. Small farmers felt abused; land speculators were unable to raise large sums. On lands where New Englanders had not paid their rents the governors of New York issued patents for large estates to New Yorkers, without regard to whether the land was already occupied. Into this situation Justus Sherwood stepped, to discover that his title was originally from the governor of New Hampshire, and no quit rent had ever been paid.10

  Appalled at the prospect of losing his hard-earned investment, Justus contacted the ringleaders in the fight against New York. These were two remarkable brothers, one a blaspheming giant who scorned hellfire and damnation; the other small, soft spoken, observant and a skilful plotter. Big Ethan and little Ira Allan were speculating in land under New Hampshire title, and, hellbent on opposing New York's claims, had already done much to reduce the leaders of that province to hysterics. Ethan, the man of action, was the colonel of an illegal army called the Green Mountain Boys, but the strategy was the work of diminutive, thoughtful Ira — nicknamed ‘Stub’. They were aided by their four brothers and an array of cousins, including Remember Baker.

  Justus could find no peaceful alternative to their reign of terror that discouraged New York settlers from occupying the lands they had leased. But, the terrorism had to stop short of serious acts of violence. The Allans calculated, correctly, that a dead man, or a seriously injured one, might provoke retaliation, whereas a humiliated man would be laughed at. The game called for self-control, and Justus agreed. If the Green Mountain Boys started a shooting war, the governor of New York might be persuaded to send in troops and quell their movement.

  Justus joined the Boys on what Ethan called a wolf hunt — an euphimism for an attack to drive away settlers brazen enough to take up land under New York title. Faces blackened, clad in garments intentionally ridiculous, they descended on their hapless victims. The mere sight of them was often sufficient. If not, a barn might be burnt, and to the stubborn a flogging on the bare back with a green beech rod which the Green Mountain Boys called impressment with the beech seal, or chastisement by twigs of the wilderness. Through name calling, bluster and threats and bravado, they were able to keep New Yorkers at bay while making their royal governor look foolish. A wolf hunt over, the Boys congregated at the Green Mountain Tavern in Bennington, the hub of political and other activities in the New Hampshire Grants.

  One such rowdy session followed the rescue of Remember Baker. The landlord's son, Dr. Jonas Fay, attended to Baker, for in the struggle to subdue him one of Magistrate John Munro's men had hacked his thumb off. Justus and the other deliverers gathered round Landlord Stephen Fay's flowing bowl to toast another successful wolf hunt against New York. The concoction in the bowl was called a ‘stonewall’, a mixture of rum diluted with almost equally potent hard cider which did wonders for Remember Baker, while raising the spirits of the others to a level that fairly rocked the sign in front of the tavern. On a tall pole it stood, surmounted by a badly stuffed mountain lion, locally called a catamount, panther or painter, fangs grinning, head facing New York in a gesture of defiance.11

  Not long after the rescue of Remember Baker, while chatting with Seth Warner, another of the Allen brothers' cousins, Justus witnessed a second discomfiture of Magistrate Munro. Some Green Mountain Boys playfully fired shots into the upper storey of Munro's house in Shaftsbury. Later, according to Ira Allen, when Munro:

  Met Captain Warner and Mr. Sherwood, some provoking words were passed and Warner drew his sword and smote Munro on his head, but his thick hair and scull saved his brains and broke Warner's sword.12

  Justus and his associates in the New Hampshire Grants continued to elude Governor Tryon's men, and they built blockhouses in preparation for a showdown that never came. The rebellion intervened.

  In 1774, Justus and Sarah were married by a Baptist elder in Shaftsbury, the denomination to which the Bothum family adhered. Soon afterwards they rented out the farm in Sunderland and set off on a trail blazed through the woods, driving their cattle before them, to the land Justus had bought in New Haven Township, 150 kilometres north of his Sunderland property. When they arrived the place did not have a cabin to shelter them, but it was safer from the governor's agents. This tract was gently rolling, much better than Sherwood's hill farm in the more southerly township.

  Because Justus quickly demonstrated that he was a man on whom others could rely, the settlers voted him their Proprietors' Clerk, responsible for presiding over town meetings and keeping the township records. Meanwhile, the relations between Governor Tryon and his obstreperous Green Mountain subjects had worsened. About the time Justus moved to New Haven, the New York assembly passed an edict that forbad gatherings of more than three person
s anywhere in the New Hampshire Grants. Officers of the law would be absolved of any responsibility if they killed or injured people in the execution of their duty. At the same time the governor raised his reward for Ethan Allen to 100 pounds.

  Ethan, an inveterate scribbler, wrote a pamphlet denouncing what he called ‘The Bloody Law’, and toured the Grants gathering support. In February of 1775, he visited Justus to ask his advice on what should be done.13 Although Justus claimed in his memorial that he had advocated loyalty from the start of the rebellion, at first his vested interests lay with the rebels.

  By April, Ethan was thinking of capturing Fort Ticonderoga, on Lake Champlain, from its British garrison of 47 retirement-aged men. He and Ira had vast holdings on the Onion River, north of New Haven, and had formed the Onion River Land Company. Whenever Justus had the spare cash, he bought lots from the company and intended buying more. Ethan called a meeting of the leaders of his band, at which he proposed taking over the fort. Justus agreed, because rumours circulated that the British were planning to strengthen the garrison. If that happened, the troops would impose law and order — New York law, since the New Hampshire Grants were supposed to be under that jurisdiction. Justus felt that he had nearly as much at stake as the Aliens, and he could not afford to let Ticonderoga be reinforced.

  Before the local men were organized, Benedict Arnold arrived with permission from the rebels in Massachusetts to capture the fort. The Green Mountain Boys were keen, but only if Ethan led them. Arnold, the egomaniac, was infuriated, but he had the choice of sharing the command — and the glory — with Ethan or abandoning the scheme, since he had not brought enough troops of his own. When Allen's summons to a wolf hunt reached Justus in New Haven, he set out on horseback with a party of friends, making for the rallying point at secluded Hand's Cove, on the east shore of Lake Champlain, a mile north of Ticonderoga. By dawn on May 5, Ethan had 200 eager volunteers gathered at Hand's Cove. As soon as others brought enough boats, 80 men set out across the water for ‘Ty’ as locals called the fort.