2004 Lake George Tactical main page | All Lake George Tactical Reports

You may read the entire interview below, or jump to one of the four day's stories using one of these link:

• Monday, October 11

• Tuesday, October 12

• Wednesday, October 13

• Thursday, October 14

y name is Private William Filkins I am a rifleman with Rogers' Own Company of Rogers Rangers. I was raised in the northern border areas of New York where I learned hunting trapping and fishing. I joined the Rangers after my homestead was burned. I moved my Family to Albany.

I along with others were ordered to the Lake area to scout and possibly engage the French and their Indian allies. I usually carry a .54 Caliber rifled musket however for this scout Captain Kennedy issued a Brown Bess musket to me. With heavy heart I left my musket behind and joined up with Sgt. Goodrich near our rally point.

Chauncey Goodrich in the front of the canoe, as we head toward our rendezvous point.

I would later learn that Captain Kennedy's dear Friend Everet Spear had recently passed on and as a tribute he brought some of his possessions to the Lake including the Bess that served me so well. Sgt. Goodrich and I set off in our canoe and fought head winds all the way to our landing area.

Sgt. Goodrich lead me to Fort Bear Necessity, aptly named. The "fort" is a circular depression surrounded by trees and fortified with brush gathered from available downed trees. At first I was not impressed but then I looked about. The fort covered about 30 feet and commanded the high ground on a point of land. It was close to the water but concealed from anyone on boat by thick brush and trees. Anyone at the fort could easily fire down on any water-borne attacker and remain hidden.

On the land side it was even better for the defender. The land sloped down into swamp and there was plenty of dead brush that acted as a natural barrier. Anyone approaching from the land side would have not only a swamp but thick dead brush to crawl through.

After setting up the encampment, sentries were posted and canoes hidden. We were low on numbers but we felt ready for the French. As night fell I tried to sleep in anticipation of getting back at the French for the loss of my Homestead.

I was awakened by the sound of an owl hooting from a nearby tree. It was dark, pitch tar dark. I was just drifting back to sleep when a voice close to my ear said, it was possible that the enemy were in the area, judging by what appeared to be a conversation of two owls positioned at different locations land-ward. Maybe it was owls, maybe it was the milice and their Indian allies. Better safe than sorry, I was awake in a moment. I gathered my equipment and took a position by one of the swivel guns in anticipation. We waited, time dragged on with no sounds and no attack. Finally when I could see the glow of the morning sun I overheard our command staff mention that the frenchman doing the owl impression wasn't that good. It was then I realized we really were under siege by at least one owl! We had lost sleep and been as tense as bowstrings over an owl. But we had our scalps and I was still looking forward to my revenge. I simply smiled to myself and started on my breakfast of cheese and bread.

Sgt Goodrich lead a patrol north in search of the French. Capt Kennedy moved south to meet up with some of our reinforcements and guide them to camp. I went north on the patrol. Our patrol was moving along the main trail that parallel the lake with the mountains to our right it, was an ambushers delight.

We moved in Ranger fashion, no hurry and picking our cover as we went. As we walked along I admired the view. Looking out at the lake I saw the morning sun shining on the fall foliage, the geese flying, and the French gunboat leading Indian laden canoes towards our camp.

After alerting Sgt Goodrich, we formed a rough plan. I would quickly head south in an attempt to alert Capt Kennedy and the reinforcements, to prevent half of our expect troops from dying in an ambush. Sgt Goodrich felt they would never expect that many of the enemy south of our encampment this early in the battle. Sgt Goodrich and the remaining troops would locate a spot to keep watch on the French and their allies. I began my run south along the trail, I knew the rendevous location and was almost there when I heard the gunfire back to the north. 

I stopped to hear swivel cannon and muskets firing along with Indian war cries echoing through the forest. Since I knew the good Captain would have to pass the trail I was on, I wrote out a note on tree bark and started running again. This time to rejoin the patrol that I felt was in dire straights. 

I ran along the trail until I spotted the French gunboats again. Then I started creeping along the trail until I found the patrol. It turns out that Sgt Goodrich was conversing quietly with an unexpected detachment of British militia, when they were espied by a large party of what appeared to be milice and Indians, possibly those same we had seen traveling south. The militiamen ran like cowards to hide behind rocks, leaving the sargeant alone to face an overwhelming force. After exchanging gunfire, he ran north through the woods as fast as he could to find the rest of the patrol and just barely escaped.

We then worked our way back south to find the PA Boys and our Captain south of Red Rock. Together, we all made our way back to the Fort. I had gone through the whole day without firing a shot, as had all rest of the patrol expect Chauncey. It was a bit disappointing but by then I was too tired to think of chasing anyone about. I did enjoy a hot dinner and an early sleep. Some time after dark I heard the owl again, it was farther north but very clear on the calm night. I smiled to myself and drifted off to sleep.

I was awakened later by the sound of muskets and cannons going off at the French camp. All I could think of was where do they get all the gun powder? Throughout the night I was serenaded by cannon and muskets.

Our morning was another alarm. Hazel island just across a stretch of water was occupied by the French. I volunteered to take the swivel gun down to the point overlooking the divide between us and the island. With me was Stoner Sr. We set up on a small peninsula and carefully camouflage our gun. As several hours went by, Chauncey and others came to relieve me, but I was happy as I was, had food and water, and meant to stay put.

Through my spyglass I watched as several French began loading their canoes, oblivious to our presence on that point! We spent some time attempting to guess numbers but could not come up with a firm conclusion. A canoe pushed off with two people and now all we could see was one person. I sent my partner back, telling the Captain that we had one lone Frenchman left.

Very soon I heard a canoe hit the water and the French soldier ran for his. As he pushed off from the island our Rangers moved in and intercepted him. He was captured and returned to the island.

Capt. Quintin Kennedy (middle) negotiating with the French to hand over prisoners taken by the the Captain's men.

Even as we were feeling proud of our small but encouraging victory I saw another canoe coming through the straight. Two Rangers manning one canoe came from beyond Sarah Island and captured it.

Then from the south I could see a sail. I knew it could be only one thing, another French gunboat. I ran a message to Sgt Goodrich and set up an ambush. I could see two on board the tiller and a manned bow gun. As the boat got within range I fired the swivel gun. Stoner Sr. stepped from cover and shot the tiller man, and Sgt. Goodrich paddled hurriedly out from being hidden by my point, seized the vessels, and took it to the island to join the other prisoners.

All in all we were having an excellent morning. From what I could see, the Captain was negotiating with General Soule for release or exchange of prisoners. Shortly after, the island was evacuated and our troops returned to camp.

The remainder of the afternoon, I stayed at camp to continue on watch and to give my poor feet a chance to recover from running so much in mocassins the day before.

Later that evening Captain Kennedy and I went by canoe to the French encampment. We sat offshore for some time watching their campfire and listening to conversation. At the Captains signal I discharged my musket and as the talking ceased Capt. Kennedy said "I'll be back in a couple of hours, leave a light on for me". As we quietly paddled away I could see candle lanterns moving about the encampment. Someone there knew english!

Back at the camp, a few of us sat and spoke of our stay on the lake so far and talked over plans for making contact with the French in the morning. I turned in early in anticipation of getting revenge for my homestead.

Thursday

Now we wanted to try to press the attack by moving out to meet them. We had trounced them on the water and now we wanted to hit them in the forest. 

We formed up and moved off towards the French camp. I was near the end of the column when the fighting broke out. We were opposite the French troops. Our right was on the slopes and in the woods woods while our left flank was near the shore of the lake. The French troops pushed hard on our left and some of our men began falling back. As I was moving up I could hear muskets crashing all along the line.

I could see French troops moving up the hills trying to get above us. I yelled to Sgt. Goodrich and then ran for high ground. As the fighting intensified the French kept trying to gain high ground and so did we.

Twice I ran into French soldiers leap frogging from cover to cover like me. We each discharged our muskets and kept moving. Once I ran right past a French soldier while he was reloading. I was more intent on getting to higher ground than trying to engage in close quarters. Later I would think to myself why didn't I try to engage that soldier? I was close enough to touch him, my only thinking was to get past him and secure high ground. 

We were fairly winded at this point and we were sure the French were close by. However we had the high ground. We reformed and I was appointed lead scout and I took the company down the mountain to the old chimney. There Captain Kennedy, Lt. Stevens and Sgt. Goodrich came up with a plan. We were now north of the French camp. We would attack by running past the French camp and throwing our grenades towards them and engage them in a running gun battle. We hoped the French would give chase and then we could ambush them.

We moved down to the main trail and lit the grenades. Now the plan began falling apart. We could not get the grenades lit quickly enough and the French were running about. Now we had them lit and started running Sgt. Goodrich was in front of me and tossed the first grenade. It went towards the French camp hit a tree and landed at his feet in time to detonate.

Mine faired no better one went off in my hand and the other barely left my hand when it went off.

A sentry shot Sgt. Goodrich and I kept running. The French had fallen back into their camp by time we had gotten past. Now we were again on the trail and no French! We were ragged and tired and wondering why we climbed all the way up that hill and then back down. The French had failed to fall into our elaborate ambush. The had wisely stayed in their camp and we had done all the running. 

Captain Kennedy was correct, the running grenade attack was a flop. Sgt Goodrich had been killed and my fingers were scorched from a grenade detonating in my hand. After moving down the road out of sight of the french we stopped to collect ourselves. It was then that I realized that after all the running and fighting the french were not following! I must admit I was a bit miffed after all we ran all through the woods and had a running gun battle with the french and they refused to chase us!

I asked Captain Kennedy for permission to stay behind and harass the French. Captain Kennedy approved and I made my way back towards the french position.

I knew the French had at least two sentries at the head of the trail that lead to their encampment. I made my way towards them and lit my last grenade. I gave it a heave and it went into the encampment. I heard someone exclaim, here they come again. As I stood two men showed themselves and I fired, sending one to his maker. I then turned and ran up the trail for about 50 yards. I dove behind a tree while reloading and watched as two frenchmen approached. Then my plan started I began whispering and making hand signals to my make-believe squad of Rangers.

Both soldiers stopped and began talking to one another. Then to my surprise they turned and walked back to their camp. They refused to enter my one-ranger ambush, now this was encouraging, they think we are all still out here. I cached my hat and haversack and crept along the brush next to the trail and got within killing range of the sentries once again. I fired and then I noisily ran down the trail again while reloading with more frenchmen once again pursuing. They again stopped short of my prepared ambush. As I watched both men moved back again to their original positions.

After making my way to the shoreline, I skirted the water's edge to where I could see their encampment. As I watched a mallard duck appeared so I remained under cover and began feeding the duck some of my bread rations.

Bill's ducky friend

I could see the two sentries at their post once again, watching the woods directly opposite of where I was. In an effort to add some variety to my repulsing the French invaders, I removed my Ranger coat and cached most of my equipment. I then made my way along the shore and towards the sentries, looking a bit more french (I thought). As I closed the distance I heard the duck quack loudly and I thought that possibly it wfas a rench mallard!

I was then within 30 yards of the sentries who had still not seen me. I raised my musket and took careful aim at the nearest sentry. Just as my musket thundered delivering a killing shot a cannon from the encampment discharged. I dropped to my knee and hurriedly reloaded thinking the cannon was directed at me. That was until I heard laughter from the camp and some good natured taunting between some of the boat crews.

Both sentries were now looking down into their camp and walking away from me without even acknowledging my presence. I was a bit befuddled at the behavior until I realized that the cannon blast had covered my musket shot.

It was then that I saw the one called Damian trotting up the trail towards me. I had hoped General Soule would step out so that I might capture him and collect a reward. As I understood the situation General Soule's capture would bring someone one hundred pounds! I had yearned to bring him into camp as my guest, thereby aiding in my founding a new homestead farm somewhere after the war. Unfortunately fate was fickle. However I had been told that Damian was an officer and commanded one of the french gunboats. He walked briskly to the head of the trail and stopped. He looked at me in what appeared to be confusion, perhaps my ruse had worked?

I realized that I would not be able to take him prisoner and then make my way out of the area.. The sentries would surely return and pursue to rescue their officer. So I leveled my musket and shot him dead. I wanted to take his scalp back to camp but felt Captain Kennedy would not approve of my treatment of another Officer. So I left his body on the trail and then made my way back along the shore to where I have my gear cached.

I stopped and took stock of my situation. I had killed two french soldiers and one of the Principal French Officers. I had unfortunately failed to capture or even see General Soule. I had forced the French to remain in a small area where they would not venture from and I was able to move freely throughout the area.

Seeing the duck had returned, I sat down and began to eat my lunch sharing what I had with my new friend. I noticed I had a bar of soap in my haversack and in a few short hours we would be entering into a parley with the french, so I decided to take a bath. First I gave my musket a field cleaning and reloaded. I left the musket on top of my clothes and stepped into the lake.

During my bath I made my way towards the french camp and could see someone sitting at a table looking across the lake. Rather than risk an embarrassing and possible hysterical capture (I left even my breechcloth behind), I swam back to my equipment.

After getting dressed and parting company with my duck I once again made my way towards the french camp. Again, seeing two sentries, I fired and then trotted back along the trail towards Fort Bear Necessity. As I was welcomed back to camp, I mentioned my attack and informed those interested that I had found an excellent spot for bathing. My tale provided much gratifying amusement for my friends.

Shortly after we departed for our expected parley with the French at their encampment. Of course Fort Bear Necessity wasn't exactly ideal for hosting parties!