hundred triumphs. The Canadian and Native contingents will rally to us there
and along the way. I vouchsafe I will command a force of some ten thousand men and have them mustered by the first of June.’
More murmurs, more draughts taken. Ten thousand men was surely a force no Colonial general could oppose!
‘A wee question, sir, if I mae?’ A Scottish voice ventured from Jack’s side of the table. It was General Simon Fraser who
spoke. He sat to Burgoyne’s right, the perfect place for the man Burgoyne called ‘his rock’. Old for his years, he had been
promoted on sheer ability; for his family were said to be Jacobite rebels to a man and could spend no money, exert no influence,
to speed him through the ranks. His skills on campaign were legendary, his loyalty to the Crown, and especially to Burgoyne,
unwavering.
At his Commander’s nod, he continued. ‘The Americans make much of their ability to fight an irregular war, to harry us from
forest and mountain, to obstruct our route to our objectives. Do we no hae muckle plans to counter tha’?’
Jack recognized a planted question when he saw one. If strategy had not been discussed, there had been many conversations
on tactics during the voyage. The answer was aimed at others, at the Loyalist Skene and the Germans.
‘I’m so glad you raised that point, Simon.’ Burgoyne’s theatrical skills were not limited to writing. ‘It gives me great pleasure
to inform you, and the company, that I have decided your own command will be of our Advance Corps. The grenadier and light
companies from each regiment will be formed under you, brigaded with your own, inestimable, 24 th Foot. Also a select corps of marksmen will be drawn from the best shots of all ranks. Together with the Canadians and our
savages – oh, excuse me, Captain Absolute … our “Native Allies” – we will have an irregular force, capable of taking on and
countering anything the American Woodsman can muster.’
Fraser, not an actor, was doing his best to feign surprise. Balcarras, designated to serve as the Scotsman’s second in this
brigade, proposed a toast of congratulations. Bumpers were downed.
Then Burgoyne took Louisa’s glass and placed it a foot in front of the decanter of ‘St John’s’.
‘Lake Champlain,’ he announced. ‘Feel free to sip of the lake’s waters, my dear.’ Over the laughter, he continued. ‘Let the
Rebel cut trees in our path on the water. If they muster a fleet, we will destroy it, as we did last October. We will move
most of our army and our supplies by barge. By the middle of June we will be here, at the lake’s end.’
He moved down the table, placed another decanter, stood regarding it for a long moment, pipe in mouth. Then he gently exhaled,
expertly ensnaring the vessel’s spout in a ring of smoke, which hovered and dissipated on his next words.
‘Fort Ticonderoga, gentlemen. The key to a continent.’
Von Riedesel waved his interpreter away, muttering, ‘DasSchloss,’ and leaned in, as did every man at the table. Ticonderoga needed no translation, the name a legend from the French
wars. The fortress squatted over the southern route, a bulwark to invasion north or south.
‘I have … ideas for how we will deal with it. And deal with it we will, before we move on, sweeping aside any army they dare
send against us. We will move both along and parallel to the Hudson River, which is the second key, the most proper part of
the whole continent for vigorous operations. Along it, we will transport our grain, our baggage and powder, even our wine.’
He smiled and took a sip. ‘I sense that, after Ticonderoga, they will try to stop us here,’ a glass placed, ‘at Fort Ann,
near the home of our dear friend, Colonel Skene,’ the Loyalist acknowledged the attention with a small rotation of his fat
wrist, ‘or here, near Fort Edward, or even here, at Saratoga.’ The General looked up, meeting the gaze of