Chapter 15

"Then go we in, to know his embassy; Which I could, with

ready guess, declare, Before the Frenchmen speak a word of

it,"--King Henry V

A few succeeding days were passed amid the privations, the

uproar, and the dangers of the siege, which was vigorously

pressed by a power, against whose approaches Munro possessed

no competent means of resistance. It appeared as if Webb,

with his army, which lay slumbering on the banks of the

Hudson, had utterly forgotten the strait to which his

countrymen were reduced. Montcalm had filled the woods of

the portage with his savages, every yell and whoop from whom

rang through the British encampment, chilling the hearts of

men who were already but too much disposed to magnify the

danger.

Not so, however, with the besieged. Animated by the words,

and stimulated by the examples of their leaders, they had

found their courage, and maintained their ancient

reputation, with a zeal that did justice to the stern

character of their commander. As if satisfied with the toil

of marching through the wilderness to encounter his enemy,

the French general, though of approved skill, had neglected

to seize the adjacent mountains; whence the besieged might

have been exterminated with impunity, and which, in the more

modern warfare of the country, would not have been neglected

for a single hour. This sort of contempt for eminences, or

rather dread of the labor of ascending them, might have been

termed the besetting weakness of the warfare of the period.

It originated in the simplicity of the Indian contests, in

which, from the nature of the combats, and the density of

the forests, fortresses were rare, and artillery next to

useless. The carelessness engendered by these usages

descended even to the war of the Revolution and lost the

States the important fortress of Ticonderoga opening a way

for the army of Burgoyne into what was then the bosom of the

country. We look back at this ignorance, or infatuation,

whichever it may be called, with wonder, knowing that the

neglect of an eminence, whose difficulties, like those of

Mount Defiance, have been so greatly exaggerated, would, at

the present time, prove fatal to the reputation of the

engineer who had planned the works at their base, or to that

of the general whose lot it was to defend them.

The tourist, the valetudinarian, or the amateur of the

beauties of nature, who, in the train of his four-in-hand,

now rolls through the scenes we have attempted to describe,

in quest of information, health, or pleasure, or floats

steadily toward his object on those artificial waters which

have sprung up under the administration of a statesman* who

has dared to stake his political character on the hazardous

issue, is not to suppose that his ancestors traversed those

hills, or struggled with the same currents with equal

facility. The transportation of a single heavy gun was

often considered equal to a victory gained; if happily, the

difficulties of the passage had not so far separated it from

its necessary concomitant, the ammunition, as to render it

no more than a useless tube of unwieldy iron.

* Evidently the late De Witt Clinton, who died

governor of New York in 1828.

The evils of this state of things pressed heavily on the

fortunes of the resolute Scotsman who now defended William

Henry. Though his adversary neglected the hills, he had

planted his batteries with judgment on the plain, and caused

them to be served with vigor and skill. Against this

assault, the besieged could only oppose the imperfect and

hasty preparations of a fortress in the wilderness.

It was in the afternoon of the fifth day of the siege, and

the fourth of his own service in it, that Major Heyward

profited by a parley that had just been beaten, by repairing

to the ramparts of one of the water bastions, to breathe the

cool air from the lake, and to take a survey of the progress

of the siege. He was alone, if the solitary sentinel who

paced the mound be excepted; for the artillerists had

hastened also to profit by the temporary suspension of their

arduous duties. The evening was delightfully calm, and the

light air from the limpid water fresh and soothing. It

seemed as if, with the termination of the roar of artillery

and the plunging of shot, nature had also seized the moment

to assume her mildest and most captivating form. The sun

poured down his parting glory on the scene, without the

oppression of those fierce rays that belong to the climate

and the season. The mountains looked green, and fresh, and

lovely, tempered with the milder light, or softened in

shadow, as thin vapors floated between them and the sun.

The numerous islands rested on the bosom of the Horican,

some low and sunken, as if embedded in the waters, and

others appearing to hover about the element, in little

hillocks of green velvet; among which the fishermen of the

beleaguering army peacefully rowed their skiffs, or floated

at rest on the glassy mirror in quiet pursuit of their

employment.

The scene was at once animated and still. All that

pertained to nature was sweet, or simply grand; while those

parts which depended on the temper and movements of man were

lively and playful.

Two little spotless flags were abroad, the one on a salient

angle of the fort, and the other on the advanced battery of

the besiegers; emblems of the truth which existed, not only

to the acts, but it would seem, also, to the enmity of the

combatants.

Behind these again swung, heavily opening and closing in

silken folds, the rival standards of England and France.

A hundred gay and thoughtless young Frenchmen were drawing a

net to the pebbly beach, within dangerous proximity to the

sullen but silent cannon of the fort, while the eastern

mountain was sending back the loud shouts and gay merriment

that attended their sport. Some were rushing eagerly to

enjoy the aquatic games of the lake, and others were already

toiling their way up the neighboring hills, with the

restless curiosity of their nation. To all these sports and

pursuits, those of the enemy who watched the besieged, and

the besieged themselves, were, however, merely the idle

though sympathizing spectators. Here and there a picket

had, indeed, raised a song, or mingled in a dance, which had

drawn the dusky savages around them, from their lairs in the

forest. In short, everything wore rather the appearance of

a day of pleasure, than of an hour stolen from the dangers

and toil of a bloody and vindictive warfare.

Duncan had stood in a musing attitude, contemplating this

scene a few minutes, when his eyes were directed to the

glacis in front of the sally-port already mentioned, by the

sounds of approaching footsteps. He walked to an angle of

the bastion, and beheld the scout advancing, under the

custody of a French officer, to the body of the fort. The

countenance of Hawkeye was haggard and careworn, and his air

dejected, as though he felt the deepest degradation at

having fallen into the power of his enemies. He was without

his favorite weapon, and his arms were even bound behind him

with thongs, made of the skin of a deer. The arrival of

flags to cover the messengers of summons, had occurred so

often of late, that when Heyward first threw his careless

glance on this group, he expected to see another of the

officers of the enemy, charged with a similar office but the

instant he recognized the tall person and still sturdy

though downcast features of his friend, the woodsman, he

started with surprise, and turned to descend from the

bastion into the bosom of the work.

The sounds of other voices, however, caught his attention,

and for a moment caused him to forget his purpose. At the

inner angle of the mound he met the sisters, walking along

the parapet, in search, like himself, of air and relief from

confinement. They had not met from that painful moment when

he deserted them on the plain, only to assure their safety.

He had parted from them worn with care, and jaded with

fatigue; he now saw them refreshed and blooming, though

timid and anxious. Under such an inducement it will cause

no surprise that the young man lost sight for a time, of

other objects in order to address them. He was, however,

anticipated by the voice of the ingenuous and youthful

Alice.

"Ah! thou tyrant! thou recreant knight! he who abandons his

damsels in the very lists," she cried; "here have we been

days, nay, ages, expecting you at our feet, imploring mercy

and forgetfulness of your craven backsliding, or I should

rather say, backrunning--for verily you fled in the manner

that no stricken deer, as our worthy friend the scout would

say, could equal!"

"You know that Alice means our thanks and our blessings,"

added the graver and more thoughtful Cora. "In truth, we

have a little wonder why you should so rigidly absent

yourself from a place where the gratitude of the daughters

might receive the support of a parent's thanks."

"Your father himself could tell you, that, though absent

from your presence, I have not been altogether forgetful of

your safety," returned the young man; "the mastery of yonder

village of huts," pointing to the neighboring entrenched

camp, "has been keenly disputed; and he who holds it is sure

to be possessed of this fort, and that which it contains.

My days and nights have all been passed there since we

separated, because I thought that duty called me thither.

But," he added, with an air of chagrin, which he endeavored,

though unsuccessfully, to conceal, "had I been aware that

what I then believed a soldier's conduct could be so

construed, shame would have been added to the list of

reasons."

"Heyward! Duncan!" exclaimed Alice, bending forward to read

his half-averted countenance, until a lock of her golden

hair rested on her flushed cheek, and nearly concealed the

tear that had started to her eye; "did I think this idle

tongue of mine had pained you, I would silence it forever.

Cora can say, if Cora would, how justly we have prized your

services, and how deep--I had almost said, how fervent--

is our gratitude." "And will Cora attest the truth of

this?" cried Duncan, suffering the cloud to be chased from

his countenance by a smile of open pleasure. "What says our

graver sister? Will she find an excuse for the neglect of

the knight in the duty of a soldier?"

Cora made no immediate answer, but turned her face toward

the water, as if looking on the sheet of the Horican. When

she did bend her dark eyes on the young man, they were yet

filled with an expression of anguish that at once drove

every thought but that of kind solicitude from his mind.

"You are not well, dearest Miss Munro!" he exclaimed; "we

have trifled while you are in suffering!"

"'Tis nothing," she answered, refusing his support with

feminine reserve. "That I cannot see the sunny side of the

picture of life, like this artless but ardent enthusiast,"

she added, laying her hand lightly, but affectionately, on

the arm of her sister, "is the penalty of experience, and,

perhaps, the misfortune of my nature. See," she continued,

as if determined to shake off infirmity, in a sense of duty;

"look around you, Major Heyward, and tell me what a prospect

is this for the daughter of a soldier whose greatest

happiness is his honor and his military renown."

"Neither ought nor shall be tarnished by circumstances over

which he has had no control," Duncan warmly replied. "But

your words recall me to my own duty. I go now to your

gallant father, to hear his determination in matters of the

last moment to the defense. God bless you in every fortune,

noble--Cora--I may and must call you." She frankly gave

him her hand, though her lip quivered, and her cheeks

gradually became of ashly paleness. "In every fortune, I

know you will be an ornament and honor to your sex. Alice,

adieu"--his voice changed from admiration to tenderness--

"adieu, Alice; we shall soon meet again; as conquerors, I

trust, and amid rejoicings!"

Without waiting for an answer from either, the young man

threw himself down the grassy steps of the bastion, and

moving rapidly across the parade, he was quickly in the

presence of their father. Munro was pacing his narrow

apartment with a disturbed air and gigantic strides as

Duncan entered.

"You have anticipated my wishes, Major Heyward," he said; "I

was about to request this favor."

"I am sorry to see, sir, that the messenger I so warmly

recommended has returned in custody of the French! I hope

there is no reason to distrust his fidelity?"

"The fidelity of 'The Long Rifle' is well known to me,"

returned Munro, "and is above suspicion; though his usual

good fortune seems, at last, to have failed. Montcalm has

got him, and with the accursed politeness of his nation, he

has sent him in with a doleful tale, of 'knowing how I

valued the fellow, he could not think of retaining him' A

Jesuitical way that, Major Duncan Heyward, of telling a man

of his misfortunes!"

"But the general and his succor?"

"Did ye look to the south as ye entered, and could ye not

see them?" said the old soldier, laughing bitterly.

"Hoot! hoot! you're an impatient boy, sir, and cannot give

the gentlemen leisure for their march!"

"They are coming, then? The scout has said as much?"

"When? and by what path? for the dunce has omitted to tell

me this. There is a letter, it would seem, too; and that is

the only agreeable part of the matter. For the customary

attentions of your Marquis of Montcalm--I warrant me,

Duncan, that he of Lothian would buy a dozen such

marquisates--but if the news of the letter were bad, the

gentility of this French monsieur would certainly compel him

to let us know it."

"He keeps the letter, then, while he releases the

messenger?"

"Ay, that does he, and all for the sake of what you call

your 'bonhommie' I would venture, if the truth was known,

the fellow's grandfather taught the noble science of

dancing."

"But what says the scout? he has eyes and ears, and a

tongue. What verbal report does he make?"

"Oh! sir, he is not wanting in natural organs, and he is

free to tell all that he has seen and heard. The whole

amount is this; there is a fort of his majesty's on the

banks of the Hudson, called Edward, in honor of his gracious

highness of York, you'll know; and it is well filled with

armed men, as such a work should be."

"But was there no movement, no signs of any intention to

advance to our relief?"

"There were the morning and evening parades; and when one of

the provincial loons--you'll know, Dunca, you're half a

Scotsman yourself--when one of them dropped his powder

over his porretch, if it touched the coals, it just burned!"

Then, suddenly changing his bitter, ironical manner, to one

more grave and thoughtful, he continued: "and yet there

might, and must be, something in that letter which it would

be well to know!"

"Our decision should be speedy," said Duncan, gladly

availing himself of this change of humor, to press the more

important objects of their interview; "I cannot conceal from

you, sir, that the camp will not be much longer tenable; and

I am sorry to add, that things appear no better in the fort;

more than half the guns are bursted."

"And how should it be otherwise? Some were fished from the

bottom of the lake; some have been rusting in woods since

the discovery of the country; and some were never guns at

all--mere privateersmen's playthings! Do you think, sir,

you can have Woolwich Warren in the midst of a wilderness,

three thousand miles from Great Britain?"

"The walls are crumbling about our ears, and provisions

begin to fail us," continued Heyward, without regarding the

new burst of indignation; "even the men show signs of

discontent and alarm."

"Major Heyward," said Munro, turning to his youthful

associate with the dignity of his years and superior rank;

"I should have served his majesty for half a century, and

earned these gray hairs in vain, were I ignorant of all you

say, and of the pressing nature of our circumstances; still,

there is everything due to the honor of the king's arms, and

something to ourselves. While there is hope of succor, this

fortress will I defend, though it be to be done with pebbles

gathered on the lake shore. It is a sight of the letter,

therefore, that we want, that we may know the intentions of

the man the earl of Loudon has left among us as his

substitute."

"And can I be of service in the matter?"

"Sir, you can; the marquis of Montcalm has, in addition to

his other civilities, invited me to a personal interview

between the works and his own camp; in order, as he says, to

impart some additional information. Now, I think it would

not be wise to show any undue solicitude to meet him, and I

would employ you, an officer of rank, as my substitute; for

it would but ill comport with the honor of Scotland to let

it be said one of her gentlemen was outdone in civility by a

native of any other country on earth."

Without assuming the supererogatory task of entering into a

discussion of the comparative merits of national courtesy,

Duncan cheerfully assented to supply the place of the

veteran in the approaching interview. A long and

confidential communication now succeeded, during which the

young man received some additional insight into his duty,

from the experience and native acuteness of his commander,

and then the former took his leave.

As Duncan could only act as the representative of the

commandant of the fort, the ceremonies which should have

accompanied a meeting between the heads of the adverse

forces were, of course, dispensed with. The truce still

existed, and with a roll and beat of the drum, and covered

by a little white flag, Duncan left the sally-port, within

ten minutes after his instructions were ended. He was

received by the French officer in advance with the usual

formalities, and immediately accompanied to a distant

marquee of the renowned soldier who led the forces of

France.

The general of the enemy received the youthful messenger,

surrounded by his principal officers, and by a swarthy band

of the native chiefs, who had followed him to the field,

with the warriors of their several tribes. Heyward paused

short, when, in glancing his eyes rapidly over the dark

group of the latter, he beheld the malignant countenance of

Magua, regarding him with the calm but sullen attention

which marked the expression of that subtle savage. A slight

exclamation of surprise even burst from the lips of the

young man, but instantly, recollecting his errand, and the

presence in which he stood, he suppressed every appearance

of emotion, and turned to the hostile leader, who had

already advanced a step to receive him.

The marquis of Montcalm was, at the period of which we

write, in the flower of his age, and, it may be added, in

the zenith of his fortunes. But even in that enviable

situation, he was affable, and distinguished as much for his

attention to the forms of courtesy, as for that chivalrous

courage which, only two short years afterward, induced him

to throw away his life on the plains of Abraham. Duncan, in

turning his eyes from the malign expression of Magua,

suffered them to rest with pleasure on the smiling and

polished features, and the noble military air, of the French

general.

"Monsieur," said the latter, "j'ai beaucoup de plaisir a--

bah!--ou est cet interprete?"

"Je crois, monsieur, qu'il ne sear pas necessaire," Heyward

modestly replied; "je parle un peu fran‡ais."

"Ah! j'en suis bien aise," said Montcalm, taking Duncan

familiarly by the arm, and leading him deep into the

marquee, a little out of earshot; "je deteste ces fripons-

la; on ne sait jamais sur quel pie on est avec eux. Eh,

bien! monsieur," he continued still speaking in French;

"though I should have been proud of receiving your

commandant, I am very happy that he has seen proper to

employ an officer so distinguished, and who, I am sure, is

so amiable, as yourself."

Duncan bowed low, pleased with the compliment, in spite of a

most heroic determination to suffer no artifice to allure

him into forgetfulness of the interest of his prince; and

Montcalm, after a pause of a moment, as if to collect his

thoughts, proceeded:

"Your commandant is a brave man, and well qualified to repel

my assault. Mais, monsieur, is it not time to begin to take

more counsel of humanity, and less of your courage? The one

as strongly characterizes the hero as the other."

"We consider the qualities as inseparable," returned Duncan,

smiling; "but while we find in the vigor of your excellency

every motive to stimulate the one, we can, as yet, see no

particular call for the exercise of the other."

Montcalm, in his turn, slightly bowed, but it was with the

air of a man too practised to remember the language of

flattery. After musing a moment, he added:

"It is possible my glasses have deceived me, and that your

works resist our cannon better than I had supposed. You

know our force?"

"Our accounts vary," said Duncan, carelessly; "the highest,

however, has not exceeded twenty thousand men."

The Frenchman bit his lip, and fastened his eyes keenly on

the other as if to read his thoughts; then, with a readiness

peculiar to himself, he continued, as if assenting to the

truth of an enumeration which quite doubled his army:

"It is a poor compliment to the vigilance of us soldiers,

monsieur, that, do what we will, we never can conceal our

numbers. If it were to be done at all, one would believe it

might succeed in these woods. Though you think it too soon

to listen to the calls of humanity," he added, smiling

archly, "I may be permitted to believe that gallantry is not

forgotten by one so young as yourself. The daughters of the

commandant, I learn, have passed into the fort since it was

invested?"

"It is true, monsieur; but, so far from weakening our

efforts, they set us an example of courage in their own

fortitude. Were nothing but resolution necessary to repel

so accomplished a soldier as M. de Montcalm, I would gladly

trust the defense of William Henry to the elder of those

ladies."

"We have a wise ordinance in our Salique laws, which says,

'The crown of France shall never degrade the lance to the

distaff'," said Montcalm, dryly, and with a little hauteur;

but instantly adding, with his former frank and easy air:

"as all the nobler qualities are hereditary, I can easily

credit you; though, as I said before, courage has its

limits, and humanity must not be forgotten. I trust,

monsieur, you come authorized to treat for the surrender of

the place?"

"Has your excellency found our defense so feeble as to

believe the measure necessary?"

"I should be sorry to have the defense protracted in such a

manner as to irritate my red friends there," continued

Montcalm, glancing his eyes at the group of grave and

attentive Indians, without attending to the other's

questions; "I find it difficult, even now, to limit them to

the usages of war."

Heyward was silent; for a painful recollection of the

dangers he had so recently escaped came over his mind, and

recalled the images of those defenseless beings who had

shared in all his sufferings.

"Ces messieurs-la," said Montcalm, following up the

advantage which he conceived he had gained, "are most

formidable when baffled; and it is unnecessary to tell you

with what difficulty they are restrained in their anger. Eh

bien, monsieur! shall we speak of the terms?"

"I fear your excellency has been deceived as to the strength

of William Henry, and the resources of its garrison!"

"I have not sat down before Quebec, but an earthen work,

that is defended by twenty-three hundred gallant men," was

the laconic reply.

"Our mounds are earthen, certainly--nor are they seated on

the rocks of Cape Diamond; but they stand on that shore

which proved so destructive to Dieskau and his army. There

is also a powerful force within a few hours' march of us,

which we account upon as a part of our means."

"Some six or eight thousand men," returned Montcalm, with

much apparent indifference, "whom their leader wisely judges

to be safer in their works than in the field."

It was now Heyward's turn to bite his lip with vexation as

the other so coolly alluded to a force which the young man

knew to be overrated. Both mused a little while in silence,

when Montcalm renewed the conversation, in a way that showed

he believed the visit of his guest was solely to propose

terms of capitulation. On the other hand, Heyward began to

throw sundry inducements in the way of the French general,

to betray the discoveries he had made through the

intercepted letter. The artifice of neither, however,

succeeded; and after a protracted and fruitless interview,

Duncan took his leave, favorably impressed with an opinion

of the courtesy and talents of the enemy's captain, but as

ignorant of what he came to learn as when he arrived.

Montcalm followed him as far as the entrance of the marquee,

renewing his invitations to the commandant of the fort to

give him an immediate meeting in the open ground between the

two armies.

There they separated, and Duncan returned to the advanced

post of the French, accompanied as before; whence he

instantly proceeded to the fort, and to the quarters of his

own commander.

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