The Black Eagle; or, Ticonderoga

by G. P. R. James

But the other shook his head; and nothing more could be extracted from him. He was then sent forward to join the rear-guard; but his taciturnity gave Lord H---- good assurance that Mr. Prevost, who had gone forward, would not be pained by the terrible rumour which he bore.

The long and fatiguing march to the nearest point of Lake Horicon I need not describe. Many of the scenes recorded in the life of the gallant Putnam passed near or on the very route pursued; and the feats of daring and the escapes of that fine soldier are almost as marvellous still in our eyes as in those of the savage Indians of his own time, who supposed him to bear a charmed life. Suffice it, that, after encountering great difficulty and severe fatigue in dragging the cannon over a road which in the neighbourhood of the settled portion of the colony was good enough, but which became almost impassable near the lake, in consequence of the heavy rains, the whole army arrived in safety at the newly-constructed and yet incomplete works of Fort George, lying a little to the east of the site of ever-memorable Fort William-Henry.

By the care and diligence of the commissary-general, everything that could refresh the weary soldiers was found prepared; a fleet of one hundred and thirty-five large boats and nine hundred bateaux was seen lying along the shore of the lake of pure and holy waters; and hardly a head was laid down to slumber in the tents that night, which did not fondly fancy that Ticonderoga must inevitably fall.

As usual in camp, or on the march, Lord H---- dined with his soldiers, and shared their simple fare; but he passed the evening with Mr. Prevost, who had found quarters in the fort. Both were grave, but the deeper gravity was with Lord H----; for though through the mind of the elder man continually flitted painful fancies--thoughts, images, or whatever they may be called--of the fate of poor Brooks, and his lips murmured twice, almost involuntarily, the words, "Poor Woodchuck!" yet the certainty which he felt of the safety of his son, however great the sacrifice which purchased it, was a comfort--a great, a mighty consolation, although he almost reproached himself for the sensation of rejoicing, which he could not help experiencing.

Lord H----, on the contrary, felt no such certainty. Ever since his conversation with Proctor, if conversation it can be called, a gloomy feeling of apprehension had rested on him. He did not doubt poor Woodchuck in the least: he was sure that he would hold fast to his resolution. Neither had he any fears that the execution of his purpose would be delayed or prevented by any such accident as that which had in reality occurred. But he asked himself, "Might he not come too late?" They had been told the time allowed by the Oneida chief to provide a substitute for Walter, and had taken it at the European calculation of months; but, since he heard that a rumour of the young man's death was prevalent amongst the Indians, he doubted whether there had not here been a mistake. The very rumour showed that some of the natives, at least, imagined the time had expired, and implied that their calculation was different. The effect upon the mind of Edith, he knew, would be terrible, when she found that her brother might have been saved, but that his life had been lost by such a mistake.

From Mr. Prevost, he strove to hide his apprehensions as far as possible; knowing well that previous anxiety never diminishes an inevitable evil; and soon after nightfall he left him, to seek thought in his own tent.

The sky was clear and cloudless; the stars shining out with a largeness and a lustre such as European skies can never give; a light breeze stirred the waters of the lake, and made them musical along the shore; and one of the voyageurs was singing a tranquil song of home in a clear, mellow voice, as he sat in his bark. The air was mild and gentle as a morning dream: yet the whole had that solemn calmness which is always allied to melancholy. All things which, in their calmness, detach us from this untranquil earth, bring with them the feeling of parting from old friends.

Under the influence of such sensations, he went not more than a hundred steps from the gates of the fort; but seated himself upon a mass of the dark gray marble recently quarried for building, and gave himself up to the thoughts in which he would have indulged had he been in his tent. They were sadder perhaps than they had ever been before in life--without anything like presentiment, without anything like apprehension, on his own account. But new ties, new affections, tenderer sympathies, warmer hopes, than any he had yet tasted in existence, had lately grown up around him; and it is a sad fact, with man, as with states, that the more he increases his possessions--be they mundane, or be they of the heart--the more defenceless points does he expose to ever-ready enemies.

Nor was he in the fresh hey-day of life, when the down of the butterfly has never been crushed--when all is joy: the present in fruition--the future in anticipation--the past forgotten. He knew that there were sorrows: he felt that there were dangers to his peace; he was conscious how frail is the thread upon which mortal happiness is poised in the midst of the dark abyss. True, he would not have yielded the blessing of Edith's love for all that earth could give of security; still, he was well aware that his heart had now a vulnerable point to be reached by weapons which had never yet been encountered. All that touched her, touched him; and the uncertainty of Walter's fate threw a sadness over his meditations. What would have been his sensations, had he known that for Walter he need have no fear? that it was her fate he had to dread? But that was spared him.

He sat there long: no inclination to sleep interrupted his reveries, notwithstanding the fatigues of the day; and at length the moon rose over the high eastern hills, showing an unrivalled scene of solemn beauty. The moment the beams touched the waters, they were converted into a flood of liquid silver: the grand forms of Rattlesnake Mountain, and its fellow giants, to the east, and of that high hill now called French Mountain to the north-west, the deep gloomy woods, the walls of the fortress, picturesque in their rugged incompleteness, the tents of the sleeping army, with here and there the light of a night-Gwatcher gleaming amongst them, and the slopes of the nearer hills dotted with Indian fires, formed a scene such as the eye of man has seldom rested on; while over all poured the lustrous stream of light, calm and passionless like the look of a good, pure being cast over the troublous scene of mortal life.