CHAPTER XXIII.
“My sons? It may
Unman my heart, and the poor boys will weep;
And what can I reply, to comfort them,
Save with some hollow hopes, and ill-worn smiles?”
Sardanapalus.
My Lord Howe did not at first recognise us, in our hunting-shirts. With Guert Ten Eyck, however, he had formed such an acquaintance, while at Albany, as caused him to remember his voice, and our welcome was both frank and cordial. We inquired for the ——th, declaring our intention to join that corps, from the commander of which all three of us had reiterated and pressing invitations to join his mess. The intention of seeking our friend immediately, nevertheless, was changed by a remark of our present host if one may use such a term as applied to the commander of a brigade of boats.
“Bulstrode's regiment is in the centre, and will be early in the field,” he said; “but not as early as the advanced guard. If you desire good living, gentlemen, I am far from wishing to dissuade you from seeking the flesh-pots of the ——th; there being a certain Mr. Billings, in that corps, who has an extraordinary faculty, they tell me, in getting up a good dinner out of nothing; but, if you want service, we shall certainly be the first brigade in action; and, to such fare as I can command, you will be most acceptable guests. As for anything else, time must show.”
After this, no more was said about looking for Bulstrode; though we let our noble commander understand, that we should tax his hospitality no longer than to see him fairly in the field, after driving away the party that it was expected the enemy would send to oppose our landing.
Susquesus no sooner learned our decision, than he took his departure, quietly paddling away towards the eastern shore; no one attempting to intercept a canoe that was seen to quit the batteau that was known to carry the commander of the advanced brigade.
The wind freshened, as the day advanced, and most of the boats having something or other in the shape of a sail, our progress now became quite rapid. By nine o'clock we were fairly in the Lower Lake, and there was every prospect of our reaching our point of destination by mid-day. I confess, the business we were on, the novelty of my situation, and the certainty that we should meet in Montcalm an experienced as well as a most gallant foe, conspired to render me thoughtful, though I trust not timid, during the few hours we were in the batteau. Perfectly inactive, it is not surprising that so young a soldier should feel sobered by the solemn reflections that are apt to get possession of the mind, at the probable approach of death—if not to myself, at least to many of those who were around me. Nor was there anything boastful or inflated in the manner or conversation of our distinguished leader, who had seen much warm service in Germany, in the wars of his reputed grandfather and uncle, young as he was. On the contrary, My Lord Howe, that day, was grave and thoughtful, as became a man who held the lives of others in his keeping, though he was neither depressed nor doubting. There were moments, indeed, when he spoke cheerfully to those who were near him; though, as a whole, his deportment was, as I have just said, grave and thoughtful. Once I caught his eye fastened on me, with a saddened expression; and, I suppose that a question he soon after put me, was connected with the subject of his thoughts.
“How would our excellent and respectable friend, Madam Schuyler, feel, did she know our precise position at this moment, Mr. Littlepage? I do believe that excellent woman feels more concern for those in whom she takes an interest, than they often feel for themselves.”
“I think, my lord, that, in such a case, we should certainly receive the benefit of her prayers.”