Since the flight of St. Leger, the English soldiery, harassed as they were by short commons in the day were deprived of sleep during the night by constant alarms. When the camp was at its quietest, and all were hoping for a quiet night, suddenly would come the blast of a horn, followed by shouts and shots, and they would see a squad of fiery figures on fiery horses galloping through the pickets cutting down the surprised soldiers.
Before a resistance could be organized, the unearthly visitors would disappear; leaving their marks in the shape of two or three videttes or sentries shot down. The attacks were never serious, never pushed far, but they occurred every night, sometimes in one quarter, sometimes in another, always coming suddenly and without a moment’s warning, till the pickets began to become demoralized, and the men could hardly be induced to stand guard at any distance from the camp.
It was under these circumstances that Colonel Butler, the partisan, offered his services at the council of war, to solve the mystery of the demon and his crew.
General Burgoyne was the first to break the silence that ensued on Butler’s speech.
“Gentlemen, you have heard Colonel Butler. You know the risk. We have but one squadron of cavalry left. Shall we venture it? General Fraser, are you in favor of risk?”
“I am,” replied the officer addressed.
“And you, Philips?”
“Decidedly.”
“And you, baron?”
“Certainly. If we lose them, we are no worse off, behind our works. If we stop the enemy from annoying us, we have gained something.”