He felt disgraced over the loss of his property. He was a failure. His Puritan upbringing taught him that to have reached the age of thirty-one, with family responsibilities and so little to show for his life's work was degrading, humiliating. Back of those confiscations he suspected Ira Allen. Little Stub, very active in the affairs of the illegal republic, might be the man who dreamed up the method of raising revenue for the provisional government that operated from Landlord Stephen Fay's tavern in Bennington. Selling off the property of absent loyalists was a tidy way of side-stepping the issue of taxes that had started the rebellion, while making the government solvent.
Justus had yet another nagging worry that was keeping him awake at night. At some point, Colonel Peters might decide to give the twenty-four men of his company to an active officer. Thus far, John Dulmage had been in command of the men and doing a competent job. The big thirty-four year old farmer from the Camden Valley was invaluable, and Justus forgot that he was a Yorker, the kind of man despised by Ethan Allan and his band.
As May slipped by, intriguing hints reached Justus that his precarious existence as a prisoner on parole might be ending. On the 11th, Governor Carleton ordered Colonel Ebenezer Jessup to bring the King's Loyal Americans from Fort St. Johns to Quebec City to work on fortifications. The order applied to the entire corps, regardless of whether the men were on parole.9 For the rest of the month Justus waited impatiently. When would Carleton remember that other provincials were on parole? Nor had he received a reply from the governor's headquarters on his petition to have the men Samuel McKay had stolen from him returned.
In Quebec City, Carleton had ignored the petition. If the men did not want to serve under Captain Sherwood, ordering them sent to the Queen's Loyal Rangers would only mean more quarreling. Besides, he had no plans for a new campaign against the rebels. It did not matter which officer had the men as long as they were doing something to justify provisioning them. As far as Carleton was concerned, the provincial troops who had been with Burgoyne were the latter's responsibility, and belonged to the Central Department. The returns he ordered kept on their numbers were only a temporary list. Burgoyne's men were refugees in Canada, nothing more, entitled only to food, clothing and shelter. If they could be employed for their keep, Carleton was willing to use them, but placating provincial officers was unnecessary.
However, Carleton had received news from London that would release Sherwood and all the paroled prisoners of war. On June 1,1778, the governor issued an order from his residence, the Château St. Louis, stating that since the Continental Congress had broken the terms of the Saratoga Convention, all the King's troops were to regard it as invalid.10 When this order reached Fort St. Johns, Brigadier Powell called a meeting of all commissioned officers who were under convention and announced that they could return to duty, their pay restored.
Justus was overjoyed. Now he could go after recruits in Vermont and on the frontiers of New York, and start building his company to full strength so that his commission would be signed. The struggle to keep his family fed and clothed was over. After blessing Sir Guy Carleton, Justus could not resist asking Powell why the governor had had a change of heart.
When the first supply ships of the spring reached Quebec, Powell explained, His Excellency discovered that the rebels had not sent the captured British and German regulars to England, as General Gates had promised at Saratoga. The regulars had marched to Boston, but the only men sent home on parole were General Burgoyne and some of his staff officers. The others had been marched off to prison camps in the southern colonies, where food was more plentiful than in the north. The Continental Congress had repudiated the terms Gates had signed, for if Burgoyne's men were sent home they could be used in Europe. That would release other troops for service in America.
While he felt some regret for the men of that army whom he respected, Justus was elated as he left Powell's headquarters. The lanky loyalist hurried to his house to unpack the regimentals he did not feel entitled to wear when he had no military duties. The uniform was in poor shape after the campaign, but with Sarah to patch and brush it while he polished his silver accoutrements, he would not look any shabbier than the other officers of his corps. After a flurry of activity at the house, Justus went to spend the evening in the mess used by officers of provincials. They ate separately from the regulars, who were inclined to look down their noses at colonials.
Justus and the other convention officers received a royal welcome from Colonel Peters and their brother officers, even though all were on the temporary list and none had signed commissions. All made merry, with many toasts to the next campaign, and the King. This time, the Lord willing, the British brass would show that they had learned from Burgoyne's muddle and use more effective tactics. Justus pressed Peters for permission to go after recruits, but his colonel said he must see Brigadier Powell before setting out into enemy territory. Swaying a little but very happy, Justus left the mess with the others and made his way home, resolved to see the fort's commandant at first light.
Powell's attitude had changed for the better, and he agreed that Justus should interrogate prisoners and refugees. He had time to talk to only a few before Powell had a mission for him. A dispatch was ready, and Justus was to carry it into Albany County, after which he could go recruiting. Governor Carleton wanted to begin exchanging prisoners, and Powell asked Justus to spread the word among people he could trust in Vermont that His Excellency wanted the men taken at Bennington returned. Immediately Justus thought of Ira Allen. If anyone could initiate such arrangements it was Ethan's small brother. Before Powell dismissed Justus he gave him a packet to be delivered at a safe house near Albany, where a scout would collect it and carry it to Sir Henry Clinton's headquarters in New York City. General Sir William Howe had been recalled recently, and Clinton was now the commander-in-chief of all British forces in the Central Department.11
Justus set off from St. Johns, dressed in buckskin leggings and a fringed hunting shirt, moccasins on his feet, long-barrelled rifle over his shoulder, a knapsack of provisions on his back, the dispatches secreted on his body. He rode in a bateau as far as Isle aux Noix, close to the exit to Lake Champlain. From there he went aboard a vessel of the Provincial Marine that dropped him on the east side of the lake opposite New Haven. A furtive visit to his farm to reassure himself that his remaining property was safe in Simon Bothum's care, and he made for Shaftsbury, using safe houses for shelter along the way, storing his memory with intelligence to report to Carleton and Powell.
To his in-laws, Elijah and Dorothy Bothum, he brought news of Sarah, Elijah Jr. and the grandchildren. Then, feet propped, sipping a stonewall, he heard the latest developments in the new republic. The governor was one-eyed Thomas Chittenden of Arlington, illiterate, and a man Justus knew well. Ira Allen and Jonas and Joseph Fay had sent a message to the Continental Congress asking to be admitted as the fourteenth state. If the members refused, Vermont would remain an independent republic, and she already had her own constitution, under which she would be governed by the laws of God and of the State of Connecticut, until the founders thought of something better.
Justus blinked. They could not be serious. Connecticut law was harsh, and the men of the Green Mountains lived by more mellow dictates. Those who framed the constitution had made a meaningless gesture. Connecticut law had never been enforced on the frontier, and he was certain nothing would change merely because the regulations had been written into law. However, Justus was disturbed when Elijah told him Vermont had abolished slavery for all women over eighteen and all men over twenty-one. That meant he might lose his other two slaves.
Elijah smiled complacently. Liberty for all folk was as hollow a gesture as Connecticut law — Green Mountain bluff. Elijah had other news of interest, for Ethan Allen had arrived recently in Vermont. After confinement in England, he had been sent to New York City and kept on parole until General Washington arranged to have him exchanged for a British officer. Now Ethan was living in Su
nderland and had brought his wife and children from Connecticut. When Justus first knew him, he kept his family in the older province so that he would have a place of refuge if Governor Tryon sent troops to capture him.
Ethan was also quarreling with his brother Levi, and proclaiming that Levi was a Tory whose property ought to be confiscated.12 That was fascinating, but Justus had questions of a more immediate concern. What would happen if the Congress tried to force Vermont to reunite with New York?
Elijah laughed. No one worried about that. George Washington was occupied watching Sir Henry Clinton, who had evacuated Philadelphia and was entrenching his grip on New York City. There was precious little the Congress could do to coerce Vermont, not while the Continental Army was a rag-tag and bobtail collection of poorly armed, underpaid rebels.13 The day might dawn when Vermont would reunite with Britain, and Justus could come home, his confiscated property restored. The mood of the people in the Green Mountains was changing. Elijah felt secure because he kept a low profile. Occasionally he had to pretend that he thought Justus and Elijah Jr. a pair of miscreants, but he was surviving nicely by being in favour of Vermont's independence from New York.
On his way, spirits raised by what he had heard, Justus had much food for thought, as well as the mission for Carleton. Prisoner exchanges had to be started, and soon. At safe houses he learned that loyalists captured at Bennington were hitched to the traces of horses, in pairs, and forced to run or be dragged. Now some were in Bennington, where the rebels had built a gaol, but others were aboard a prison ship in Boston harbour. The Germans were treated as prisoners of war, but the provincials had been regarded as traitors.14 With a friend near Bennington, Justus left a message for Ira Allen asking that exchanges begin. Shuddering at the fate that might have been his had he not escaped from the battlefield nearby, Justus turned eastward with his dispatches, planning to look for recruits in Albany County as soon as he had delivered his packet.
Chapter 7
A Pimpernel Emerges
At the safe house near Albany where he delivered his packet, Sherwood's host described the widespread distress among loyalist families whose men had gone to Canada or were in prison. Many of the wives and children had been removed from the Hudson Valley when Burgoyne's army approached. After his surrender they were allowed to return home, but having lost their harvests and livestock, they were unable to feed themselves unless they had relatives to assist them. Justus was torn. He wanted to get recruits, but he could not leave the dependents of men he respected to suffer. They should be in Canada receiving government rations.
Near Saratoga he visited some of the wives, who confirmed the appalling stories he had heard. Taking what slim provisions they possessed, they left their homes and followed him. When he had six women and fifteen children, almost more than was safe, he started north along forest trails, walking in the moonlight when the local residents were abed. Making slow progress, often carrying a small child, he headed towards his cousin Thomas Sherwood's farm. There Thomas' wife Anna and his children stayed, protected by his father Seth, and Justus knew he could get provisions. Hiding his charges he went to see Anna by himself, making certain no one saw him, especially his uncle.
Thanks to Seth, Thomas' livestock had been brought back to the farm. Anna was well supplied with food, and Seth had sent servants to do the spring planting. He had not forgiven Thomas, but he did not want his grandchildren to suffer.1 From Thomas' farm Justus led his refugees to the farm of his brother Samuel, where he met his sister-in-law, Eunice, for the first time. When Justus had left Connecticut, Samuel was seventeen and single. From there Justus made his way into Vermont, where he had more friends who could provide his party with food.
At a safe house Justus' host told him that Major Zadock Wright, of his regiment, had been scouting near Albany when a rebel patrol captured him and carried him to Massachusetts. Now he was in Springfield Gaol in irons. Shuddering Justus resolved to beg Governor Carleton to initiate a prisoner exchange as soon as he reached Fort St. Johns.
Next Justus made for New Haven to get provisions from Simon Bothum. Then, with Simon and his slaves carrying the smallest children, Justus' party began the twenty-five kilometre trek to Lake Champlain. He hoped to signal a vessel of the Provincial Marine to take his people aboard, or find boats left by local settlers which they could row to Pointe au Fer. He was in luck, for the schooner Maria was cruising off-shore. Simon started a fire, and when the smoke rose Justus saw a cutter being lowered. To his immense relief, the ordeal was nearly over. The Maria dropped Justus and his refugees at Isle aux Noix, and a bateau took them to Fort St. Johns.
By this time the children, rested and comfortable, had revived. They had grown fond of their lanky protector and insisted on climbing all over him. He felt like smacking them but he restrained himself since their mothers were looking on. He was delighted when he could hand them over to the nearest British officer and hurry home to Sarah. But, as she remarked when he was relating his experiences, he would do it all over again if the need arose.
She brought Justus up to date on developments during his absence, and of greatest interest was the arrival in Quebec City of General Frederick Haldimand to replace Sir Guy Carleton as governor. Everyone expected Haldimand to come up the St. Lawrence soon to inspect the province's defences.
After changing into regimentals, Justus went to report to Brigadier Powell. The commandant ordered him to put his findings in a letter to Carleton. Although Governor Haldimand was now on duty, Carleton was completing his reports on all the work he had initiated. Before Justus could finish his letter, Powell asked him to assess a number of intelligence reports other scouts had brought in, and he was to incorporate any useful information he found into the report he was making for Carleton.2
For the next few days Powell had Justus interrogating loyalist refugees and rebel prisoners who had been brought to Fort St. Johns. Some of the prisoners were vowing that they were loyalists, captured by mistake, or coerced into joining the rebel militia. When Justus thought a man was reliable, he recommended that he be allowed to join one of the provincial corps. Brigadier Powell sent New Yorkers to Colonel Ebenezer Jessup or Sir John Johnson, the New Englanders to Colonel John Peters.
Where Justus was suspicious that so-called refugees might be spies, Powell recommended internment. He allowed the less dangerous to be confined in Montreal, where Sir John Johnson or the commandant, Brigadier Allan Maclean, decided which ones could be free on parole. Others were sent down the Richelieu River to Fort Chambly, a stone walled edifice from which escape was more difficult.
While Justus was absent carrying dispatches and rescuing women and children, the Queen's Loyal Rangers had moved to Lachine. Under Lieutenant Dulmage his company was working on fortifications there. Early in August, Justus' work was interrupted by the arrival of Colonel Peters, who wanted him to be his guide on a small expedition authorized by Major Christopher Carleton, 29th Regiment, the new commandant at Pointe au Fer. The major was also Sir Guy Carleton's nephew, and he wanted Peters to destroy a new blockhouse the rebels had built on the Onion River in Vermont, north of New Haven, an area Justus knew well.
The Onion River raid was a success in the style of Ethan and his Boys. With thirty-four Queen's Loyal Rangers and a party of Indians, Peters and Sherwood travelled in bateaux, and after leaving the boats at a safe distance they advanced through the woods. They captured the garrison, removed everything of value, and turned the blockhouse into a gigantic bonfire. By August 3 the raiders were back at Fort St. Johns with their loot and with prisoners who could be exchanged for some of the provincials and regulars captured the year before.
A few days later, Brigadier Powell had yet another mission for Justus, this one a meeting with rebel emissaries from New York to be sent by General John Stark. Justus was to open negotiations for a prisoner exchange. Stark, then on duty in Albany, had sent a messenger to Fort St. Johns to inform Powell that he wanted to discuss the return of civilian sympathisers and rebe
ls who were being held in Montreal. Justus was to take an escort of regulars and meet Stark's representative under a flag of truce at Ticonderoga.3 He left Fort St. Johns in full regimentals, a British officer albeit a shabby one. His escort consisted of men from the 34th Regiment, assigned by the commandant of Isle aux Noix, Major Alexander Dundas of the same unit.
Provincial troops were never used as escorts, Major Dundas informed Justus. Loyalists might lose their heads when coolness was mandatory, and might not be protected by the flag of truce. Noticing Justus' knitted brows, Dundas hastened to reassure him. He was a British officer on an official mission, and since the regulars would be there to witness any violations of the rules of war there would not be any. As his party went aboard a vessel of the Provincial Marine, Justus prayed Dundas was right. He was, nonetheless, a provincial officer with a temporary commission, which struck him as a trifle flimsy. He was relieved that he was to meet New Yorkers who might be deluded into accepting him as a British officer; Vermonters would burst out laughing at the very idea.
When the vessel reached Ty, Sherwood's party was put ashore, and he found the flag from General Stark waiting. Head high, Justus played out a role that called for considerable bravado. The rebel party was commanded by a captain, who proffered Stark's list of prisoners while Justus handed him Powell's. Carefully he perused the list of prisoners; then the dickering began. Rank should be exchanged for like rank, but many of the prisoners held by both sides were civilians. The rebels had loyalists interned or under house arrest, while in Montreal were American businessmen under suspicion of aiding the rebel cause. The New Yorkers agreed that some civilians could be exchanged for enlisted men. Civilians held in Montreal might be allowed to return to the United States if they gave their paroles not to take part in further hostilities. Also, some loyalists would be allowed to leave for Canada under safe conducts. Obviously, each exchange would have its own terms of reference — a fine task for a Yankee trader.
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