University of Virginia Library

THE OLD SOLDIER'S STORY.

The following very singular adventure was related by an old
soldier of the revolutionary army, who lived till within a few
years to repeat it over and over, at the social firesides of his numerous
descendants. Although the incident on which the story
turns, is fraught not slightly with the marvellous, yet as he was
a man whose veracity was unquestioned on other matters, we
will give it as he invariably told it, leaving the reader to account
for it if he can, as we have often but always unsuccessfully tried
to do, on natural principles, or else settle down in the opinions
which the old soldier himself always entertained—that it was a

special interposition of divine Providence to save his life, and the
lives of his companions:—

It was in the eventful summer of 1777, when Gen. Burgoyne
was pouring the numerous troops of his invading army along the
western shores of lake Champlain towards the very unequal
forces of the Americans at Ticonderoga, and the whole wilderness
was resounding with the notes of hostile preparation, that a
small party consisting of myself and three others, were detached
from St. Clairs's post, to proceed down the lake, as scouts, to
watch and report the movements of the approaching enemy.
We were fully aware of the perils which we were likely to encounter;
for the echoes of the war-whoop, which rose from the
great feast just given by Burgoyne, and shook the startled wilderness
with the congregated yells of two thousand savages, had
scarcely died away among the mountains and parties of their
warriors were supposed to be prowling the woods in every direction.
We proceeded, therefore, slowly, and with great caution.
But all our watchfulness was destined to avail us nothing; for
while sitting round a spring in one of the deep woody ravines
that run up from the western side of the lake, where we had
halted for refreshment, we were surprised by a party of about a
dozen French and Indians, and, after a short resistance, in which
two of the latter were slain, overpowered and taken prisoners.
Our captors, after strongly binding our hands, and placing a
guard at the side of each, marched us down to the shore
of the lake, where we arrived about sunset. A consultation
was now held, which terminated evidently in some dissatisfaction
on the part of the Indians, though as we did not understand
their language, we were unable to gather the cause,
or any thing indeed, by which we could form a probable conjecture
of the destiny that awaited us captives. We were then
hurried into a light batteau, which was drawn from a covert of
bushes, extending into the water; and the ceremony of placing
guards at the side of each of us having again taked place, our
boat was directed northwardly along the shore, towards the
British camp which I judged to be ten or twelve miles distant.
The afternoon had been unusually dark and cloudy, and we
had not pursued our course long, before one or the blackest

nights that I ever knew, shut down on the sleeping waters of
the lake. Without the interchange of a word, however, our
sharp built little craft was impelled over the waters by the sinewy
arms of the natives, with great velocity. The oars were
occasionly stayed, indeed, and their heads were intently bent
down to the surface of the water, for the purpose, probably,
both of ascertaining their direction by the different shades between
the water and woods, and of listening for any other boats
that might be abroad in pursuit. But we could not distinguish
land from water, and no sound reached our ears but that of the
low sullen dash of the waves along the shores.

After having pursued our course through the impenetrable
darkness for many miles in this manner, words of sullen tone began
to be occasionly interchanged between our French and Indian
captors, while the speed of our boat was suffered sensibly to
abate. And it was not long before the murmers of the savages
who appeared to claim some right which their white allies refused
to grant them assumed the tone of great bitterness, boding to
my ears some fatal purpose in the former, unless they were
permitted to act as they wished. It is true we understood not a
word in their language; but there is something in the human
voice which, to those who have noted it for the purpose, will always
betray the secret workings of the soul, whatever may be
the language of the tongue, or whatever the measures resorted
to for concealment.

The effect of those tones on my feelings, and the presentiment
of danger that accompanied them in this instance, I shall
never forget, and much less the sight that soon burst on our bewildered
vision. After a profound, and to me an ominous silence
of some minutes among our captors, a low but sharp and
hissing sound was uttered by one of the Indians, in the manner
of a signal; when the oars were all at once relinquished, and
we could hear a part of the crew hastily clutching some kind of
implements and rising to their feet, and fixing their position for
some sudden effort. At this critical instant a light, at first flashing
faintly, and then quickly increasing to the brightness of the
noon-day sun, broke on our astonished sunset! A boat was
passing rapidly by us, which to our recoiling vision, seemed
clothed with fire, and filled with bright figures in the human
form, fixing their burning and withering looks on the quaking

savages, and pointing on high with uplifted hands. Amazed
and appalled as we were, at this awful sight, the picture which
our boat presented, was, to us prisoners, by no means less startling,
telling us as it at once did, of the destiny that one moment
before awaited us. The Indians stood over us with one hand
grasping the scalping knife, and the other drawn back with the
tomahawk ready for the fatal blow, while the fiendish looks of
the assassins, blending with the hellish smile of anticipated revenge,
was deeply depicted on their savage countenances. But
a second glance showed an altered expression. Those looks
which so plainly told their infernal purposes, had given way to
expressions of convicted guilt, and uncontrolled terror. They
stood mute and paralyzed with fear and amazement, their eye-balls
starting from their heads, and their arms sinking nervelessly
by their sides. Sudden as its first appearance, the strange
boat vanished from our sight, and we were again left in total
darkness. The savages, with convulsive shudders, hastily resumed
their seats and plied their oars with unnatural energy.
Not another word or sound was uttered by one of the crew, as
our boat was sent surging through the waters, till we struck the
shore, and were hailed by a sentinel walking before the British
encampment.

The prisoners, with hearts overflowing with joy and thankfulness
at our miraculous escape from death, were then delivered
over to a guard, and lodged within the lines. The next day
we were shipped with other prisoners, to St. Johns, where we remained
some months, when it was our good fortune to be exchanged,
and consequently be permitted to return to our respective
homes.