immense flotilla of boats moving over the pellucid surface of that
lovely sheet of water--not a sound proceeding from them save that of
the oars,--the unruffled bosom of the lake every where reflecting the
serene sky of a July evening, together with all the charms of its bold
and varied shores, and its romantic islands;--its stillness affording
a strange prelude to that tempest of mortal contest which was about
to ensue. Its breadth is about two miles--so that the boats nearly
covered it from side to side. As they moved on, they were occasionally
lost to the eyes of those who looked upon them from the shores, as they
disappeared into the numerous channels formed by its islands, or were
again discovered, as they emerged from these narrow straits. There were
snatches of scenery, and many little circumstances in the features
of nature around them, that called up the remembrance of their own
Loch Awe to both the Laird of Inverawe and young Donald, as the sun
went down; and the pensiveness arising from these home recollections,
at such a time, kept both of them silent. At length, after a safe,
and easy, and, on the part of the enemy, an unobserved navigation,
the boats reached the northern end of the lake early on the ensuing
morning; and the landing having been effected without opposition,
the troops were formed by General Abercromby into two parallel columns.
The order was given to advance; and the troops speedily came to an
outpost of the enemy, which was abandoned without a shot. But as they
proceeded, the nature of the ground, encumbered as it was with trees,
rendered the march of both lines uncertain and wavering, so that the
columns soon began to interfere with each other; and great confusion
ensued. Whilst endeavouring to extend themselves, the right column,
composed of the Highlanders, and the Fifty-fifth Regiment, under
the command of Lord Howe, fell in with a detachment of the enemy,
which had got bewildered in the wood, just as they themselves
had done. The British attacked them briskly, and a sharp contest
followed. The enemy behaved gallantly; and the Highlanders especially
distinguished themselves. Young Donald of Inverawe, his bosom bounding
with excitement, from the shouts of those engaged in the skirmish,
rushed into the thickest part of the irregular melée, and performed
such feats of prowess with his maiden claymore, that they might have
done honour to an old and well-tried soldier. Excited yet more by
his success, he became rash and unguarded, and being too forward in
the pursuit among the trees--which had already broken the troops on
both sides into small handfulls--he found himself suddenly engaged
with three enemies at once. As he was just about to be overpowered
by their united pressure upon him, a ball from a rifle stretched
one of them lifeless before him, and in an instant afterwards, the
Eagle Eye, whose accurate aim had directed it to its deadly errand,
was flourishing his tomahawk over the head of another of his foes. It
fell upon him--the skull was split open--the man rolled down on the
ground a ghastly corpse; and the third, that was left opposed to young
Inverawe, began to give way in terror before him. Urging fiercely upon
this last foe, however, the youth ran him through with one tremendous
thrust, and he too dropped dead.
Flushed with success, Donald Campbell was now about to continue the
pursuit, after some fugitives of the enemy, who came rushing past him,
when, turning to call on his red brother and preserver, the Eagle Eye,
to follow him, he beheld him stooping over one of his dead foes, in
the act of scalping him. At that very moment, he saw a French soldier
approaching his Indian brother unperceived, with sword uplifted, and
with the fell intent of hewing him down. Springing before the Eagle
Eye, the young Inverawe prepared himself to receive the meditated
stroke--warded it skilfully off,--and then following in on his foe
with a thrust, he penetrated him right through the breast, with
a wound that was instantaneously mortal. The Eagle Eye was now as
sensible that he owed his life to young Donald, as Donald could have
been that his had been preserved by the Indian warrior. They stood
for a moment gazing at each other,--and then they embraced, with
an affection, which the stern Eagle Eye had difficulty in veiling,
and which young Inverawe could not conceal.
By this time the enemy were all cut to pieces, or put to flight. The
joy of this unexpected victory was turned into mourning, by the death
of Lord Howe, who had been unfortunately killed in the early part of
this random engagement. His loss, at such a time, was greater than
anything they had gained by this partial overthrow of the enemy. And
you will easily understand this, when I tell you, that it was said of
this young nobleman, that he particularly distinguished himself by his
courage, activity, and rigid observance of military discipline; and
that he had so acquired the esteem and affection of the soldiers, by
his generosity, sweetness of manners, and engaging address, that they
assembled in groups around the hurried grave to which his venerated
remains were consigned, and wept over it in deep and silent grief.
The troops having been much harassed by this engagement, as well
as by the troublesome nature of their march, General Abercromby,
in consideration of the lateness of the hour, deemed it prudent, to
deliver them from the embarrassment of the woods, to march them back to
the landing-place; which they reached early in the morning. They were
then allowed the whole of the ensuing day and night for repose. But
on the morning of the 8th of July, he rode up to the lines of the
Highlanders, and saluting Colonel Grant and Major Campbell of Inverawe,
"Gentlemen," said he, "I have just obtained information from some of
the prisoners, that General Levi is advancing with three thousand men
to reinforce, or succour,--a--a--a--to succour, I say,--the garrison
I wish to attack."
"What!" exclaimed Colonel Grant,--"to succour Fort Defiance,
General? Then I presume you will move on directly, to strike the blow
before they can arrive."
"That is exactly my intention," replied General Abercromby. "And now
I must tell you, confidentially, Gentlemen, that the present garrison
consists of fully five thousand men, of whom the greater part are said
to be French troops of the line; who, as I am informed, are stationed
behind the traverses, with large trees lying every where felled in
front of them. But I have sent forward an engineer to reconnoitre
more strictly, and I trust I shall have his report before we shall
have advanced as far as--as--"
"As Fort Defiance," interrupted Colonel Grant. "Well, General, are
we to be in the advance?"
"No," replied the General. "As you and the Fifty-fifth have had all
the fighting that has as yet fallen to our lot, I mean that you shall
be in the reserve upon this occasion. The picquets will commence the
assault, and they will be followed by the grenadiers,--which will be
in their turn supported by the battalions of the reserve.--Nay, do
not look mortified, Colonel;--you and your men will have a bellyfull
of it before all is done, I promise you."
With these words the General left them, and the columns moved
on through the wood, in the order he had signified to them. They
had now possessed themselves of better guides, and they were thus
enabled to make their march more direct, and as they had already
cleared their front of enemies, the leading troops were soon up at the
entrenchments. Here they were surprised to find a regular breast work,
nine or ten feet high, strongly defended with wall-pieces, and having
a very impregnable chevaux de frise, whilst the whole ground in front
was every where strewed thickly over with huge newly felled oak trees,
for the distance of about a cannon-shot from the walls. From behind
the chevaux de frise, the enemy, in strong force, commenced a most
galling and destructive fire upon the assailants, so as to render the
works almost unapproachable, without certain destruction, especially
without the artillery, which, from some accident, had not as yet
been brought up. But the very danger they had to encounter seemed
to give the British troops a more than human courage. Regardless of
the hail-storm of bullets discharged on them, with deliberate aim,
from behind the abattis, whilst they were fighting their laborious
and painful way through the labyrinth of fallen trunks and branches
that opposed their passage, they continued, column after column,
to advance, dropping and thinning fearfully as they went.
The Highlanders beheld this slaughter that the enemy was making of
their friends--their blood boiled within them. In vain Colonel Grant
and Major Campbell galloped backwards and forwards, along the line,
using every command and every argument that official authority or
reason could employ to restrain and to sooth them, till their time for
action should arrive. With one tremendous shout, they rushed forward
from the reserve, and cutting their way through the trees with their
claymores, they were soon shewing their plumed crests among the very
foremost ranks of the assailants. But so murderous was the fire that
fell upon them, that their black tufted bonnets were seen dropping in
all directions, never to be again raised by the brave heads that bore
them. Their loss, before they gained the outward defences of the fort,
was fearful; but the onset of those who survived was so overwhelming,
that it drove the enemy from these outworks, and compelled them to
retreat within the body of the fort itself.
Now came the most dreadful part of this work of death. The garrison,
protected by the works of the fort, mowed down the ranks of the
besiegers with a yet more certain and unerring aim. Under the false
report that these works were as yet incomplete, scaling ladders had
been considered as unnecessary. The Highlanders, gnashing their teeth
like raging tigers caught in the toils, endeavoured to clamber up
the front of them, by rearing themselves on each other's shoulders,
and by digging holes with their swords and bayonets in the face of the
intrenchments. Some few succeeded, by such means, in gaining a footing
on the top. But it was only to make themselves more conspicuous, and
more certain marks for destruction; and they were no sooner seen, than
their lifeless bodies, perforated by showers of bullets, were swept
down upon their struggling comrades below. By repeated and multiplied
exertions of this kind, Captain John Campbell succeeded in forcing
his way entirely over the breastwork, at the head of a handful of men;
but they also were instantly despatched by the multitude of bayonets by
which they were assailed. Four hours did these gallant men persevere
in the repetition of such daring attempts as I have described--all,
alas! with equal want of success, and with increasing slaughter, till
General Abercromby ordered the retreat to be sounded. To this call,
however, the Highlanders were deaf; and it was not until Colonel Grant,
after receiving three successive orders from the General, which he had
failed in enforcing, threw himself among them, and literally drove
them back from the works with his sword, that he could collect and
bring away the small moiety that yet remained alive, of that splendid
regiment with which he had marched to the attack. More than one-half
of the men, and two-thirds of the officers, were lying killed or
wounded on that bloody field.
Colonel Grant had hardly gathered this remnant of his men together,
when he hastened back over the ground where the contest had raged,
to search eagerly for some of those whom he most dearly loved, and
for the cause of whose absence from this hasty muster he trembled
to inquire or investigate. The enemy, though victorious, had been
too roughly handled to be tempted to a sally, for the mere purpose of
annoying those who were peacefully engaged in the sad duty of carrying
off their wounded or dying comrades. The Colonel was therefore enabled
to make his way over the encumbered field without molestation, and
with no other interruption than that which was presented to him by
the prostrate trees, which, however, seemed to him to offer greater
obstruction to his present impatience, than they had done during
his advance with his corps to the attack. The scene was strangely
terrible! It might have been imagined by any one who looked upon
that field, that all Nature, even the elements themselves, had been
at strife. Slaughtered, and mutilated, and dying men lay in confused
heaps, or scattered singly among the overthrown giants of the forest,
those enormous trees which had been so recently rooted in the primeval
soil, where they had stood for ages. Colonel Grant looked everywhere
anxiously around him. Many were the familiar faces that he recognized,
but their features were now so fixed by the last agonizing pang of
a violent death, as cruelly, yet certainly, to assure him, that they
could never again in this world recognize him. The last spirited words
of high and courageous hope, so recently uttered by many of them to
him in their anticipation of triumph, still rang in his recollection,
and as he tore his eyes away from them, the tears would burst over his
manly cheeks as the thought arose in his mind, that words of theirs
would never again reach his ears. He moved hurriedly on, endeavouring
to suppress his feelings, but every now and then compelled to give way
to them, till his attention was absorbingly attracted by descrying
the dark form of an Indian, who was seated on his hams, beneath the
arched trunk and boughs of a huge felled oak. It was the Eagle Eye.
He sat motionless as a bronze statue, with the drapery of his blanket,
hanging in deep folds from his shoulders. His features were grave
and still, and apparently devoid of feeling; but his eyes were
turned downward, and they were immovably fixed on the countenance
of a young man, who lay stretched out a corpse before him. His head
was supported between the knees of the red man, whilst the cold and
stiffened fingers of him who was dead, were firmly clasped between
both his hands. The body was that of young Donald Campbell of Inverawe.
"God help me!" cried the Colonel, clasping his hands, and weeping
bitterly. "God help me, what a spectacle!"
"Why should you weep, old man?" said the Eagle Eye, with imperturbable
calmness. "My young brother has gone to the Great Spirit, like a great
warrior as he was. Who among his tribe shall be ashamed of him? Who
among warriors shall call him a woman? I could weep for him too,
did I not know that the Great Spirit has taken him to happiness,
from which it were wicked in me to wish to have detained him for my
own miserable gratification. But he is happy! He has gone to those
fair, boundless, and plentiful hunting-grounds that lie beyond the
great lake, where he will never know want, and where we, if our deeds
be like his, will surely follow him. But till then, the sunshine of
the Eagle Eye has departed, and night must surround his footsteps,
since the light of his pale-faced brother has departed!"
"This is too much!" said the Colonel, quite overwhelmed by his
feelings. "Help him to bear off the body. It must not be left here."
The Eagle Eye arose in silence, and gravely and solemnly assisted
the Highlander, who attended the Colonel, to lift and bear away
the body, and they had not thus proceeded more than a few paces in
their retreat from the works, when the weeping eyes of the Highland
commanding-officer, and the eagle gaze of the red warrior, were equally
arrested, at the same moment, by one and the same object. This was
the manly and heroic form of Major Campbell of Inverawe. He sat on the
ground, desperately wounded, with his back partially supported against
the body of his horse, which had been killed under him. His eye-balls
were stretched from their sockets, and fixed upon vacancy, with an
expression of terror, greater than that with which death himself,
riding triumphant as he was over that field of the slain, could have
filled those of so brave a man. Colonel Grant was so overcome, that
he could not utter a word. He was convulsed by his emotions. The
Eagle Eye laid down the body of Donald opposite to his father, and
silently resumed his former position, with the youth's head between
his knees. The father's eyes caught the motionless features of his son,
and he started from his strange state of abstraction.
"My son!" murmured the wounded Inverawe. "So, it is as I supposed,--he
is gone! But I shall soon be with you, boy. God in his mercy help
and protect your poor mother!"
"Speak not thus, my dearest friend!" said Colonel Grant, making an
effort to command himself, and hastening to support and comfort the
wounded man; "trust me you will yet do well. You must live for your
poor wife's sake."
"No!" replied Inverawe, with deep solemnity. "My hour is come. In vain
was it that your kind friendship, and that of the brave Abercromby,
succeeded in deceiving me,--for I have seen him--I have seen him
terribly,--and this is Ticonderoga!"
"Pardon me, my dear Inverawe, for a deception which was so well
intended," said the Colonel, much agitated. "It is indeed Ticonderoga
as you say, but--but--believe me,--that which now disturbs you was
only some phantom of your brain, arising from loss of blood and
weakness. Cheer up!--Come, man!--Come!--Inverawe!--Merciful Heaven,
he is gone!"
END OF VOLUME THIRD.
NOTES
[1] A Scottish farmer's house and offices.
[2] Plaid.
[3] Remove.
[4] Ancestors.
[5] Innermost.