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  Buckskin Pimpernel

  the Exploits of Justus Sherwood, Loyalist Spy

  by Mary Beacock Fryer

  Dundurn Press

  Toronto and Charlottetown

  1981

  Copyright © Mary Beacock Fryer, 1981

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press Limited.

  General editor: J. Kirk Howard

  Design and production: Ron and Ron Design Photography

  Typesetting: Howarth and Smith

  Printing: Editions Marquis, Montmagny, Quebec

  Cover illustration: John Lasruk

  The publication of this book was made possible by support from several sources. The author and publisher wish to acknowledge the generous assistance and ongoing support of the Canada Council and the Ontario Arts Council.

  We are grateful as well to the Toronto Branch of the United Empire Loyalists' Association of Canada for the members' financial support and enthusiasm for this project.

  J. Kirk Howard, Publisher

  Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Fryer, Mary Beacock, 1929-

  Buckskin pimpernel

  Bibliography: p.

  Includes index.

  ISBN 0-919670-57-1

  1. Sherwood, Justus, 1747-1798. 2. American loyalists - Vermont - Biography. 3. United States - History - Revolution, 1775-1783 - Biography. I. Title.

  E278.S53B42 973.3'14'0924 C82-094320-7

  Contents

  Preface

  Prologue: From a Fate Worse Than Death

  1. Outlaw, Rebel, Loyalist

  2. Secret Mission

  3. Rattlesnake Hill

  4. Bennington Bloodbath

  5. Saratoga

  6. Under Convention

  7. A Pimpernel Emerges

  8. Banished Yankee

  9. With Fife and Drum

  10. Justus Smells Success

  11. The Loyal Blockhouse

  12. The Loyal Rangers

  13. In Yorktown's Wake

  14. Undercover Activities—1782

  15. ‘Behind the Cloud Topped Hill’

  16. The Happiest People in America

  17. Personal Crises

  18. Scapegoats to the Wilderness

  19. In Government Circles

  20. Fading Light

  21. Founding Father

  Epilogue

  Appendix A: Memorial of Justus Sherwood

  Appendix B: Report by Mary I. Duncan, Handwriting Analyst

  Bibliographical Essay

  Notes

  Bibliography

  Index

  List of Maps

  1: Place Names Relating to Justus Sherwood

  2: Battle of Bennington, August 1777

  3: Setting of the Loyal Blockhouse

  4: The Three Townships Sherwood Surveyed at Cataraqui, Autumn 1783

  5: Loyalist Townships Along the St. Lawrence and Bay of Quinte 1784

  6: Sherwood's Plan for a Town in the First Concession of Augusta Township

  Photographs

  1: Uniforms of Provincial Troops

  2: Levius Peters Sherwood

  Preface

  In July of 1790, my great great great grandfather, Caleb Seaman, left his blacksmith's shop in the village of Lyn and journeyed twenty kilometres into Augusta Township. He appeared before the Luneburg District Land Board and with a petition as a “U.E. Loyalist” applied for a grant of land. He got his wish, for the land board record shows “Certificate granted 6th July 1790, 200 Acres.” The chairman of the land board, who signed the certificate wrote “Sworn before me Justus Sherwood Esq. this fifth day of July at Augusta.” After seeing this certificate, I wanted to know more about Justus Sherwood, my ancestor's benefactor.

  A plaque at the foot of Merwin Lane, west of Prescott, Ontario, hints at a neglected hero. It reads:

  Justus Sherwood 1747-1798

  Born in Connecticut, settled in Vermont in 1774. On the outbreak of the Revolution he was arrested as a Loyalist, but escaped to join the British at Crown Point. He was taken prisoner at Saratoga in 1777, and after being exchanged was commissioned as a captain in the Intelligence Service. From 1780 to 1783 he had charge of secret negotiations which, it was hoped, would result in Vermont's rejoining the British Empire. Sherwood, who took up land in this township in 1784, played a leading role in its settlement. One of the District's first magistrates, he was also a member of the local land board until his death.

  A second plaque at Blockhouse Point, North Hero Island, in Lake Champlain, tells the story from the American point of view:

  On this site was erected in July 1781 Loyal Blockhouse by Justus Sherwood, Captain, Queen's Loyal Rangers. This spot was a stopping place for British refugees during the American Revolution and from here were conducted the negotiations between the Republic of Vermont and the British Government. This tablet was erected September 1912 by the Vermont Society, Sons of the American Revolution.

  Clearly, Sherwood was an interesting man, and if I could find enough material, I wanted to make his story into a popular biography. I did find the material, although some interpolation was necessary because there were gaps that needed to be filled. When I started this book I had already explored the loyalist era as it pertained to Ontario and the war years, and had the confidence to interpret what was happening when the sources were slim.

  I want to thank the people who have made the publication of this book possible. My husband, Geoffrey, is tolerant of a wife who spends hours immersed in the eighteenth century, neglecting the twentieth. Gavin Watt, who has re-created a detachment of the King's Royal Regiment of New York, was generous in sharing his own findings. Professor Ian Pemberton, of the University of Windsor, was a valuable correspondent, and Norah Hugo-Brunt typed the manuscript and offered advice on the weaknesses in my prose. Ron Rochon designed the book, and Kirk Howard, of Dundurn Press, agreed that a Sherwood biography fitted in with his policy of publishing new approaches to Canadian history. Lastly, we owe a debt of gratitude to the Toronto Branch, United Empire Loyalists' Association of Canada, for generous financial support.

  Place Names Relating to Justus Sherwood

  Prologue

  From a Fate Worse Than Death

  The trussed prisoner thrashing softly in the box of the wagon that October day of 1776 was slim and lanky. His face, gaunt and pale after more than a month in confinement, was set in determined lines, the mouth thin and taut. Even in his present state of helplessness he drove himself relentlessly, an indomitable will forcing him to press for release. He had to escape and soon. A few kilometres farther and they would be out of the Green Mountains into settled country, where he would make a fine target if he tried to dash for freedom.

  The hideous spectre of Simsbury Mines, in far away Connecticut, loomed before his eyes. Only hours ago the rebels' Grand Council of Safety had passed the sentence of life imprisonment on him for his so-called crimes. The mines were, he knew, an appalling place — a prison built into an abandoned mine shaft — where men were confined in dank, rat-infested darkness. Such a fate was not for him, not Justus Sherwood, only 29 years old, with family responsibilities and in the very prime of life!

  At last the ropes began to give and he freed his hands. He glanced anxiously at the backs of the three armed men crammed on the seat at the front of the wagon. His keepers were more concerned with what might lie ahead than with their handiwork when they bound Sherwood. Their eyes, glued on the trail in front, were watching for the prisoner's friends, who might appea
r, firelocks raised, to rescue him. Justus started on the ropes that pinioned his ankles, momentarily grateful that leg irons had been unavailable in Bennington, where, for want of a gaol, the rebels had held him in the stable of the Green Mountain Tavern.

  In seconds he was free, and he rubbed his ankles vigorously to restore the circulation. He shot another cautious glance at his guards and silently let himself down over the rear of the wagon. Sprinting towards a thicket he rose and ran into the depths of the forest which extended up the slopes of the Green Mountains, until he was winded and had to pause to regain his breath. Now he felt safe, for he knew these woods well. Moments after Sherwood had dropped from the wagon his guards discovered his absence. Gloomily they turned back for Bennington to raise a posse, knowing too well that their search for the prisoner would be in vain.

  Justus hurried to the house of his father-in-law, Elijah Bothum, whose farm was in the Township of Shaftsbury, 16 kilometres above Bennington. There he knew he would find his wife Sarah and their nearly two-year-old son Samuel. Sarah, who was seven months pregnant, had gone to her father when Justus was imprisoned. She greeted him with a shout of delight, thinking he had been released by the rebels and they could return to their own farm in New Haven Township, 150 kilometres to the north.

  Her face sobered when Justus informed her he had escaped, and could only linger long enough to sign over the title of their farm to Elijah. By doing so Justus hoped that the rebels would not confiscate it and leave Sarah homeless.1 Then he must be on his way. Sarah's father's farm was the first place a posse would look for him. Sarah's eldest brother, Elijah Bothum Jr., 20 years old, a heftier man than Justus with a bluff heartiness that matched his bulk, wanted to know where his brother-in-law was going.

  “To the British army at Crown Point where I'll be safe,” Justus replied impatiently.

  Young Elijah begged him to hide out in the woods while he contacted other loyalists who were living in fear of the rebels. If they knew that Justus had escaped and was willing to be their guide, Elijah was certain they would follow him. Justus had been taking timber rafts down Lake Champlain and the Richelieu River to Sorel, and he knew the way better than most men in the New Hampshire Grants.

  Sherwood agreed to wait three days on the mountain beside the Battenkill River overlooking a tract of land he owned in Sunderland, a township north of Shaftsbury. Elijah Jr. saddled a horse and went off to inform other loyalists, while Sarah and her mother, Dorothy Bothum, assembled a week's supply of provisions, and his father-in-law pressed a rifle on Justus. He bid a sad farewell to Sarah and his son and went off to his mountain hide-out, 11 kilometres to the northeast.

  Within the allotted time men began to arrive. At the last moment Elijah Bothum Jr. joined the party, now twenty strong, pleading that he would be in deep trouble if the rebels learned of his part in assembling the men. He was also looking for adventure not to be found on his father's farm. Guiding the men northward Justus set a grueling pace, keeping well away from the scattered farmsteads of that wilderness frontier, making for his home in New Haven, where Elijah's younger brother, Simon Bothum, had gone to take charge of the farm after Justus' arrest.

  Justus was heartened by the response to his call to join the King. All these men were known loyalists, in danger of being imprisoned; nevertheless they were making a great sacrifice, leaving their wives and children and all they possessed to serve a cause. He, too, was a prey to thoughts of what might happen to his property, which he valued at 1,200 pounds in New York money, about two thirds the value of sterling.2 He had signed the 50 acre (20 hectares) farm in New Haven to Sarah's father, but he owned nearly 3,000 acres (1200 hectares) all told, a farmhouse in Sunderland as well as the house in New Haven, furniture and other personal effects. Marching along, his rifle over his shoulder, he prayed fervently that the rebels would take their time about any more confiscations.

  His mind flew back to the times when he had ridden with his companions, nights when the Green Mountain Boys chased New York settlers out of the New Hampshire Grants. Those New Yorkers had been trying to drive away his fellow New Englanders, claiming they did not have valid titles to the farms they owned and worked with loving devotion. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of running feet and he halted. Someone called his name and Justus recognized Edward Carscallan; other men were popping from the undergrowth, all familiar. Carscallan was Irish, a veteran of the Seven Years' War who had settled some years earlier in the Camden Valley, not far from the farm in Sunderland where Justus had lived until 1774. The others were Irish-born men who spoke German among themselves. Justus knew them because they had been present at Anglican services in Arlington, which he had attended before he moved to New Haven.

  At any other time the men from the Camden Valley would have clashed with the New Englanders in Sherwood's party. The former were tenants on a large estate, deliberately planted there by a landlord in New York City because these sturdy German-speaking people would stand up to the Green Mountain Boys. Now, however, they forebore because they needed help. They had set out to join the British but had become lost. Willingly Justus agreed to lead them, setting aside his private aversion for the good of the cause.3

  Each night his party, which now numbered forty, bivouacked in the woods. At the farm in New Haven Simon Bothum gave them provisions for the rest of their journey. Simon was working the farm with the help of Justus' two slaves, until Sarah had had her baby and would return home. With her in Shaftsbury was Justus' third slave, a boy named Caesar Congo, her house servant.4 From New Haven Justus led his men 32 kilometres through the forest to the east shore of Lake Champlain, opposite Crown Point, his mind on Sarah.

  Her time was drawing near, but surely he would not be away long. The rebels' Army of the North was stationed at Fort Ticonderoga, the stone stronghold 16 kilometres south of Crown Point that overlooked the lake. Once the British army captured the fort the rebellion in the north would be as good as over, and he should be home before winter set in. Ticonderoga was garrisoned for the most part by ill-disciplined militiamen, and the British would not have difficulty dislodging them.

  The closer to Crown Point his party marched, the more wary Justus became, lest he encounter rebel patrols spying on the British position. Near the shore he ordered the men to hide, and taking only Elijah he went in quest of a boat to cross the “quarter mile” of water between himself and the fort at Crown Point. Above it, to his delight, the red jack was flying. The two men soon found a skiff and pushed off.

  Crown Point was a charred ruin, burnt, Justus guessed, by the rebels, either after Benedict Arnold's fleet had been destroyed only days before, or during their retreat in the spring of 1776, following their failure to capture Canada. Reporting to the officer of the day, Justus requested bateaux to bring his party across the lake, pointing out the danger of their tangling with rebel patrols. The officer dispatched red-coated soldiers to man the bateaux, and Elijah went with them as their guide.

  The officer ordered Justus to wait upon His Excellency, Governor Sir Guy Carleton, who wanted to see newcomers of stature — which Sherwood appeared to be — to receive any intelligence they might bring. The governor's headquarters was aboard the schooner Carleton, a small vessel of twelve 6-pounder guns riding at anchor offshore. Visitors were taken over in a ship's boat rowed by sailors with greasy pigtails, clad in blue jackets and loose canvas trousers. Justus would soon be meeting a man who already knew something about him, for secret agents had carried his reports from New Haven to Carleton's headquarters in Quebec City.

  Thus, on an October day in 1776, Justus Sherwood began his service as a provincial soldier with the British army. In a memorial he wrote ten years later, Justus stated that he had exerted his influence to prevent the people in New Haven from taking up arms against His Majesty:

  For which your Memorialist was in Augt 1776 taken by order of the Committee by an armd compy from his House and Farm in New Haven who wantonly destroyed and took away the Household Furniture Wearing A
ppl and provisions & belongings to your Memt breaking open his Chests taking tearing and trampling under foot all his papers and writings which they could get hold of, your Memorialist procured Bail at that time and permission to go to his Family and Continue under certain restrictions untill further Orders from the Committee, But the same night on which Your Memorialist came to his Family he was taken out of his Bed by an Armed Force, who kept him under a Guard of Insulters for some time obliging him to bear his own and their Expences.5

  Sherwood's escape while under sentence to Simsbury Mines ended a short history of persecution at the hands of the rebels in the Green Mountains. It began when he resolved to turn his back on certain of his fellow Connecticut-born men. Because of his earlier associations, he was destined to become, two generations later, the villain of song and story, not only to mythmakers but to early historians.

  For example, in 1839 there appeared a book entitled The Green Mountain Boys — A Historical Tale of the Early Settlement of Vermont by Judge D.P. Thompson. In his foreword the judge proclaimed that he was ‘Sensible of no violations of historical truth. The arch knave of this romance is a resident of New Haven named Sherwood. In the best tradition of nineteenth-century novels, Sherwood is all bad, responsible for every dastardly misfortune that befalls the handsome, manly hero, and his beautiful, vulnerable lady.

  Sherwood is the miscreant Tory, ‘who, through the inscrutible ways of Providence, was permitted to live, Cain-like to old age, found his way at the close of the Revolution, to the common refuge of American Tories in Canada, where he finished his days in poverty and disgrace.6 That Judge Thompson could conjure up such an ogre indicates how thoroughly the Vermonters perverted, or eliminated, Sherwood from the early histories of their state during the American Revolution. Even in more recent times, as Vermont writers examine the period with less jaundiced eyes, Sherwood is miscast as a sophisticated British officer being outwitted by a pack of shrewd rough diamonds — with one exception. Louise Koier, writing in 1954, praised Sherwood for sparing Vermont some of the worst horrors of war.7