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  Scrambling through dense forest, wading through swamps, Peters and Jessup had to halt their men frequently, to allow the struggling Germans to catch up with them. A red-faced, perspiring Baron von Riedesel, leading his horse, attempted to march after the loyalists. Behind him, his officers were trying to maintain a tight column four abreast — quite impossible in that country. It was also dangerous, Justus muttered to Peters as the provincials stood about after having lost sight of the German advance party for the tenth time. If the rebels had the foresight to ambush them, the slaughter would be horrendous.

  Suddenly a story from his youth returned to Justus with stark clarity, of how Robert Rogers, the ranger leader in the old war against the French and Indians, had kept his men spread out while in the forests. His rangers could not be surrounded and not more than one man could be a target. He mentioned this to Peters, who admitted that both he and Jessup had the same thought when they ordered the Queen's Loyal Rangers and the King's Loyal Americans to go in single file. Peters chose German-speaking John Dulmage, from Sherwood's company, to take a message to the Baron von Riedesel, suggesting that his men would make better time if they abandoned their columns. A few minutes later Dulmage returned, a sweaty, panting von Riedesel following him. The Baron, Dulmage explained, would have none of Peters' suggestion. If provincials wanted to behave like Indians, that was their affair, but his officers knew how to conduct a war, and Peters had no business offering advice.

  Frustrated at the bogged down state of the army on the east side of the lake, Justus longed to know what was happening to the redcoats across the water. Peters, curious himself, dispatched a scout in a bateau to find out how the others were progressing. Returning two hours later, the scout reported that Brigadier Simon Fraser, who commanded Burgoyne's vanguard, had led the light companies of several regiments around the back of Rattlesnake Hill and taken up a position guarding the entrance to Lake George. Here was strategy Justus could not fault. The vanguard had cut off the rebels' most advantageous line of retreat. Lake George reached well into the heart of New York State, with only a sixteen-kilometre portage to the Hudson. Burgoyne was now in a position to bottle up the entire rebel army in Fort Ticonderoga and Mount Independence and capture all of them.

  On July 2 Peters ordered Sherwood to go to General William Phillips' tent near Rattlesnake Hill for an assignment; a bateau was waiting to take him across the lake. Once over the water, Justus found the tent easily. With Phillips was another officer, restlessly pacing up and down the small space. Justus noticed his report lying on the general's cot. Phillips introduced him to the officer, Lieutenant William Twiss, of the Royal Engineers, who had been scouting around Rattlesnake Hill and was intrigued by the possibilities it offered. He wanted to mount two 12-pounder guns on top, and he was certain that both Ticonderoga and Mount Independence would be within their range. In fact, he told Justus, he thought it strange the rebels had neglected to fortify the hill.

  “I fancy they think only a mountain goat can scale it,” Twiss said, turning to Phillips.

  “Where a goat can go a man can follow, and where a man can go he can drag a gun,” the artillery officer replied.

  Justus, who had reservations about a gun, assured the two officers that a man could get to the top. Phillips had three reports on the defences of the two rebel positions. One was from Dr. Smyth in Albany, another from Captain Samuel McKay, and Sherwood's. Smyth was still in Albany. McKay, who had recently joined Burgoyne, had been sent to the rear with his company to bring up supplies. Captain Sherwood, Phillips decided, would accompany Lieutenant Twiss. They were to find the best path for the guns.

  Twiss agreed, a trifle haughtily, Justus thought, and the two officers left the tent. In short order Justus showed the engineer — his superior officer on the mission — the place where he had started his climb when preparing the report on Ticonderoga's defences in April. Together they scrambled upward, removing their coats and tying them round their waists. Gaining the summit they crouched low, using the underbrush as cover, edging forward until Twiss had a good view. Grudgingly he praised Sherwood, for the spot was perfect. This provincial had led him along a path out of sight of the enemy inside the forts. Once the guns were on top, the rebels would know what Twiss was about, but he wanted to give them as little advance warning as possible. Back down the hill slid the engineer and the one-time Green Mountain Boy.

  As they parted, Twiss was issuing orders for oxen to drag the guns forward, and for axemen to start cutting a path up Rattlesnake Hill. Justus returned across the lake to his regiment, feeling that he had done more good in the last few hours than during the struggle to advance towards Mount Independence. For three days, as the Germans consolidated their position close to the sod and stockaded fortress, Justus could not keep his eyes off the top of Rattlesnake Hill. He tried to picture the axemen, the ropes and pulleys, the sweating soldiers heaving those lethal pieces of iron up that steep slope. At last, towards noon on the 5th, his watchfulness was rewarded; both guns were on top and the soldiers were moving logs to serve as carriages.

  Late in the afternoon he heard the first boom and saw the blue smoke rising from the top of the hill. He longed to know what the rebels thought of Twiss' cleverness, proud of his own part in the business.2

  As darkness fell, Justus settled down in his tent, fully clad, with orders to rise at three o'clock. Before the drums could sound a note he was aroused by orange light penetrating the white canvas tent. Outside, brushing sleep from heavy eyes, he beheld flames rising from Mount Independence. Soon everyone knew that the rebels had set the fire, and that Ty was empty. He grabbed his accoutrements and ordered his company to fall in.

  From a deserter, Colonel Peters learned that General Arthur St. Clair, the rebel commander, was hurrying up Lake Champlain with his fleet, his troops fleeing overland through the New Hampshire Grants. St. Clair's orders from his superior, General Philip Schuyler in Albany, were to save the rebels' Army of the North to fight another day. The previous afternoon, Lieutenant Twiss' gunners were firing into his fleet and that was enough for St. Clair. With Fraser's vanguard blocking the entrance to Lake George, the rebel general had taken his fleet along the inferior waterway towards Skenesborough. The two 12-pounders atop Mount Defiance, as Twiss' gunners rechristened Rattlesnake Hill, had done their work well. When he heard the news from Peters, Justus was gratified. Beyond the handful who had encountered rebel patrols beforehand, Ticonderoga and Mount Independence had fallen without the loss of a man in Burgoyne's army.

  The Queen's Loyal Rangers, King's Loyal Americans and the German troops occupied the charred ruins of Mount Independence, but Justus longed to be with the troops marching into Ty. This time, he thought there would be no looting spree such as had followed Ethan's capture of the fortress. British soldiers were professionals whose officers would keep them under control.

  He did not have long to ponder. Brigadier Fraser arrived with part of his vanguard, and he wanted 300 Queen's Loyal Rangers to accompany him in pursuing the rebel army, because they knew the country.3 Justus overheard Fraser telling Peters that the 24-pounders on Burgoyne's frigate Royal George had made short work of the log boom the rebels had strung across the lake, and the commander-in-chief was sailing after the rebel fleet.

  The vanguard set a brisk pace, and before long the brigadier rode back to confer with Colonel Peters. He wanted a scouting party to go ahead, and Peters recommended that Captain Sherwood be given command of it. He was to take some former Green Mountain Boys from his company and a party of Indians, to find out where the rebel army was. Some might be lying in ambush, and if not, Justus was to establish where the rebel rearguard might be posted.

  Leading his party a few miles, Justus visited a friend, who told him that Seth Warner and his regiment might be at Hubbardtown. Indian scouts operating ahead confirmed this, reporting that the bulk of the rebel force was ahead of Warner. Satisfied that Warner's men were the rearguard, Justus began retracing his steps, when some Indian scouts a
ppeared with four civilians. If he let them go, they might warn Seth Warner that he was lurking nearby. If possible, Fraser should surprise Warner. Such caution, and his natural urge to lead, made Sherwood a good soldier and an officer whose capabilities were coming to the attention of his superiors.

  Late in the afternoon Justus' party, with the prisoners, rejoined Fraser, but this provincial officer had more to do before he could retire. When darkness fell that night of July 6, he led some of his men away from camp. If General Phillips thought it was too early to exchange the men he lost while scouting near Ty that spring, Justus would arrange one himself. Silently his little band approached the farmhouse of Elijah Kellogg. As Justus had once been dragged from his bed, so now was Mr. Kellogg.

  From there, Justus went to the farm of Henry Keeler and repeated the operation. He chose these men because he knew them for insane rebels who were a threat to local loyalists. He instructed Mrs. Keeler to send a message to Seth Warner. Kellogg and Keeler could be exchanged for the men taken from his party near Ty. His two prizes secure, Justus led his men back to Fraser's camp.4

  When the advance party was stirring at three o'clock in the morning, Justus discovered that one of the civilians captured the day before had escaped. Brigadier Fraser sent the other captives, including Kellogg and Keeler, under escort to Ticonderoga, where Burgoyne had left a garrison of the battalion companies of the 53rd Regiment under their lieutenant-colonel commandant, Brigadier Watson Powell, and a detachment of German Troops. There, to his astonishment, Powell received a flag of truce from Seth Warner, and a prisoner exchange took place. Powell was impressed. When prisoner exchanges began in earnest, as they must, for Burgoyne was certain to lose some of his troops, this captain of provincials might be useful.

  The next day Fraser sent Justus forward with a small party, to forage and bring back whatever supplies he could wrest from local farmers. The first homestead Justus chose belonged to Samuel Churchill. In an effort to make him reveal where he had hidden his flour, Justus had him tied to a tree, and with his best bluster threatened to set him aflame. Then in true Green Mountain fashion, he stood by praying that Churchill would not be stubborn, thinking of something less dire which he really would carry out if Churchill remained steadfast.

  When Churchill gave in and told him where the flour was, Justus heaved a sigh of relief. Then he insisted that the Churchill family come with him. He could not afford to have anyone riding through the countryside warning others that he was in the vicinity, plundering farms. He continued on his mission, capturing more civilians after robbing their premises.5 When he rejoined Fraser's advance party near Hubbardtown, large numbers of German soldiers were standing about. Reporting to Fraser and handing over his loot, Justus discovered that he had missed a battle.

  Fraser's men had surprised some New Hampshire militiamen who had bivouacked without posting guards and were routing them when Seth Warner and his rebel Green Mountain Boys appeared. Warner almost had Fraser's flank turned, when the Baron von Riedesel arrived with reinforcements. When the blue coats hove into view, the Boys of Sherwood's former regiment ran away, but the casualties had been heavy for a minor encounter.

  Reporting to Colonel Peters, Justus found that none of his company had been wounded. Lieutenant Carscallan was a good officer, and Justus prayed he would never lose him nor his followers to Colonel Pfister. At dawn on July 8, the advance party turned back towards Lake Champlain. Fraser and von Riedesel did not have enough supplies to continue their pursuit of the Army of the North, and ordered a march to Burgoyne's new encampment.

  Justus was bitterly disappointed. Surely supply wagons could have been sent after them. Besides, more provincials might have been used to forage for the food the advance party needed. He thought Fraser might have kept up the pressure on the rebel army until it surrendered. Sadly, he admitted that professional soldiers were a stodgy lot, and not involved in the life and death struggle that had overwhelmed the loyalists.

  In sight of the lake the advance party turned south to catch up with Burgoyne. After leaving the garrison at Ticonderoga, Burgoyne followed the rebel fleet, which he found in flames, the crews nowhere to be seen. The commander-in-chief sailed on to Skenesborough, twenty kilometres south of Ty, and there the veterans of the Battle of Hubbardtown and Sherwood, the forager, hastened.

  When Justus arrived, Skenesborough was surrounded by tents. Burgoyne was staying in the large fieldstone house that overlooked the village, as the guest of Philip Skene, the proprietor who owned the land for miles around. When the Green Mountain Boys captured the village two years before, Skene was sailing home after a visit to England, with a commission as commandant of Ticonderoga and Crown Point.6

  Skene landed at Philadelphia, and was seized and transported to a prison in Connecticut. After a year in confinement he escaped and made his way to Canada. Now he was with the expedition as Burgoyne's chief adviser on local conditions. Justus suspected that Skene was a poor choice and his doubts were well founded. Colonel Peters said Skene was telling Burgoyne that the northern frontier was peopled by ‘Friends of Government’, as Tories called themselves. If Burgoyne took that landed gentleman seriously, he would be in for a shock. Hubbardtown had convinced Justus that the expedition might meet considerable resistance along the way, and he extended his estimate of the time Burgoyne would need to reach Albany.

  Days passed, Justus wondering when Burgoyne would pack up and return to Ty for his ascent of Lake George. Finally he confronted Peters, who informed him with a grimace, that Burgoyne was having his troops build a road from Skenesborough to the Hudson, and had no intention of returning to Ticonderoga. Burgoyne feared that withdrawing to the fort might be construed as a retreat, which would dishearten the rank and file. Privately, Peters had another suspicion. Was Philip Skene guilty of persuading Burgoyne to build the road to have his property improved at the expense of the British army?

  To Justus that explanation made more sense than the excuse that returning to Ty would be hard on morale. Skene was a damned rascal, Burgoyne a fool for being taken in. The best way to reach the Hudson was through Lake George, and the portage that already had a decent road. If the commander-in-chief knew what he was doing, he would have sent a vanguard along the better route to seize Fort Edward ahead of the rebels. The fleeing Army of the North had to use the longer, more difficult route by land through the New Hampshire Grants, and Burgoyne was throwing away an opportunity to put a strong detachment between the rebels and their base of supply in Albany.

  Justus was alarmed that his cause might be going awry. He was familiar with the country where the troops were building that foolish road. It was filled with swamps over which long causeways of logs were required. Furthermore, he knew the value of a surprise attack. Ethan had used these tactics with great success in his many wolf hunts against New Yorkers. Pondering the situation, Justus tried to convince himself that Burgoyne could not fail. The commander-in-chiefs strategy was making the expedition's task more difficult, with unnecessary sacrifice of lives.

  Justus knew his own people, and he realized that rebels not yet in the Army of the North would come forward in ever greater numbers as the British and Germans neared their homes. With each day that Burgoyne dallied, the ragged army of rebel frontiersmen that opposed him must be growing larger.

  Casting aside this gloomy prediction, Justus found some grounds for optimism. With each day's delay, scouts came in with more recruits for the Queen's Loyal Rangers. Men were arriving for the other units, although Colonel Ebenezer Jessup was not faring very well. His agents were recruiting in Albany County, where the rebels were massing, and loyalists had more difficulty leaving the area.7

  Justus took advantage of the delay to do some recruiting himself. From friends, he discovered that the rebels' Army of the North reached Fort Edward on July 12, its lines of supply back to Albany intact. Another blow was the capture of four of his men while looking for recruits. Nevertheless his company now numbered 46 rank and file.

 
On July 23, Colonel Peters mustered the Queen's Loyal Rangers, which stood at 262 men, not including agents out looking for recruits. Peters had appointed Jeremiah French, Francis Hogel and David McFall as Sherwood's fellow captains. As the commander of the third company in the regiment, Justus was senior to them, but the second company was still reserved for a major of Peters' choosing. He hoped that an old friend and neighbour, Zadock Wright, would come and fill that appointment. After giving some thought to non-commissioned officers, Justus selected John Dulmage, German-speaking and three years his senior, as his first sergeant.

  Thomas Sherwood and Elijah Bothum were looking for recruits, hoping to win commissions, while the colonel's son, John Peters Jr., fifteen years old, was the only ensign appointed thus far — contrived but not surprising. Peters had assigned his son enough recruits as a way of taking care of him.8 Colonel Francis Pfister had three companies, while Daniel McAlpin had two. Ebenezer Jessup's corps stood at 172 men.9

  An important part of each muster was paying the rank and file. On July 28, Justus drew 23 pounds 6 shillings and 8 pence from Peters for his men's service since June 25 — thirty days.10 Peters assured him that as a captain he would receive 10 shillings a day, but he did not know when the money would be forthcoming. The rank and file had received New York currency, but Justus would be paid in the more valuable sterling.

  Finally by July 26 the road was ready and the vanguard was ordered to march. To Justus' delight the Queen's Loyal Rangers were assigned to Brigadier Fraser instead of to General von Riedesel. Remembering the speed at which Fraser had marched towards Hubbardtown, Justus thought working under him would be a joy, but to his dismay, even Fraser now moved at a snail's pace. The vanguard was bringing too many heavy guns, more than would be required to reduce Fort Edward if the rebels made a stand there. The redcoats had constructed hundreds of two wheeled carts, but the entire army was short of draught animals. Burgoyne's plan to move the army by road seemed more dim-witted than ever.