SCENE. _British Camp. The interior of a Tent richly furnished. An
Officer seated at a table covered with papers and maps.
A Servant in waiting_.
_The Officer_. (_Sipping his wine, and carefully examining a plan of the
adjacent country_.) About here, we must be--let me see.--I heard the
drum from their fort this morning, distinctly. Turn that curtain; we
might get a faint breeze there now.
_Ser't_. But the sun will be coming that side, Sir. It's past two
o'clock.
_Off_. Past two--a good position--very. Well, well,--we'll take our
breakfast in Albany on Friday morning, and if our soldiers fast a day or
two ere then, why they'll relish it the better;--once in the rich
country beyond--Ay, it will take more troops than this General will have
at his bidding by that time, to drain the Hudson's borders for us.
(_A Servant enters with a note_.)
_Off_. (_Reading_.) "_The Baroness Reidesel's compliments--do her the
honor---Voisin has succeeded_."--Ay, ay,--Voisin has succeeded,--I'll
warrant that. That caterer of hers must be in league with the powers of
the air, I am certain. General Burgoyne will be but too happy, my
Lady--(_writing the answer_.)
[_The Servant goes out_.
_Off_. Past two! The cannon should be in sight ere this. This to Sir
George Ackland.
[_Exit the Attendant_.
_Off_. Tuesday--Wednesday.--If the batteaux should get here to-morrow.
One hundred teams----
(_Another Officer enters the tent_.)
_1st Off_. How goes it abroad, Colonel St. Leger?
_2nd Off_. Indeed, Sir, the camp is as quiet as midnight. It's a
breathless heat. But there are a few dark heads swelling in the west. We
may have a shower yet ere night.
_Bur_. Good news that. But here is better, (_giving the other an open
letter_.)
_St. Leger_. Ay, ay, that reads well, Sir.
_Bur_. And here is another as good. Yes Sir, yes Sir,--they are flocking
in from all quarters--the insurgents are laying down their arms by
hundreds. It must be a miserable fragment that Schuyler has with him by
this.
_St. L_. General Burgoyne, is not it a singular circumstance, that the
enemy should allow us to take possession of a point like that without
opposition,--so trifling a detachment, too? Why, that hill commands the
fort,--certainly it does.
_Bur_. Well--well. They are pretty much reduced, I fancy, Sir. We shall
hardly hear much more from them. Let me see,--this is the hill.
_St. L_. A pity we could not provoke them into an engagement, though!
They depend so entirely upon the popular feeling for supplies and
troops, and the whole machinery of their warfare, that it is rather
hazardous reckoning upon them, after all. If we could draw them into an
engagement _now_, the result would be certain.
_Bur_. Yes, yes; we must contrive to do that ere long. Rather
troublesome travelling companions they make, that's certain. Like those
insects that swarm about us here,--no great honor in fighting them, but
a good deal of discomfort in letting them alone. We must sweep them out
of our way, I think, or at all events give them a brush, that will quiet
them a little.
_St. L_. Or they might prove, after all, like the gadfly in the fable. I
do not think this outbreak will be any disadvantage in the end, General.
_Bur_. Not a whit--not a whit--they have needed this. It will do them
good, Sir.
_St. L_. The fact is, these colonies were founded in the spirit of
insubordination, and all the circumstances of their position have
hitherto tended to develope only these disorganizing elements.
_Bur_. It will do them good, Sir. Depend upon it, they'll remember this
lesson. Pretty well sickened of war are they all. They'll count the cost
ere they try it again.
_St. L_. We can hardly expect the news from General Reidesel before
sunset, I suppose.
_Bur_. If my messenger returns by to-morrow's sunrise, it is better
fortune than I look for.
(_Col. St. Leger goes out_.)
(_Burgoyne resumes his plan_.)
_A Ser't_. (_At the door_.) Capt. Maitland, Sir.
_Bur_. Capt. Maitland!
_Ser't_. From Fort Ann, Sir.
(_Maitland enters_.)
_Bur_. Captain Maitland! Good heavens, I thought you were at
Skeensborough by this,--what has happened? or am I to congratulate
myself that the necessity of your embassy is obviated. You met them,
perhaps?--
_Maitland_. There's but little cause of congratulation, Sir, as these
dispatches will prove to you. I returned only because my embassy was
accomplished.
_Bur_. Do you mean to say, Captain Maitland, that you have seen the
waters of Lake Champlain, since you left here this morning?
_Mait_. I do, Sir.
_Bur_. On my word, these roads must have improved since we travelled
them some two days agone. I am sorry for your horses, Sir. You saw
General Reidesel?
_Mait_. I left him only at nine o'clock this morning.
(_Burgoyne examines the dispatches_.)
_Bur_. "Twelve oxen to one batteaux!"--"and but fifty teams!" This news
was scarcely worth so much haste, I think,--but fifty teams?--Captain
Maitland, had those draught horses from Canada not arrived yet?
_Mait_. They were just landing this morning as I left, but only
one-fourth of the number contracted for.
_Bur_. Humph! I would like to know what time, at this rate----sit down,
Captain Maitland, sit down--we are like to spend the summer here, for
aught I see, after all. (_A long pause, in which Burgoyne resumes his
reading_.)
_Mait_. General Burgoyne, I am entrusted with a message from General
Reidsel to the Baroness. If this is all----
_Bur_. What were you saying?--The Baroness--ay, ay--that's all well
enough,--but Captain Maitland is aware, no doubt, there are more
important subjects on the tapis just now than a lady's behests.
_Mait_. Sir?----
_Bur_. (_Pushing the papers impatiently from him_.) This will never do.
St. George! We'll give these rebels other work ere many days, than
driving away cattle and breaking down bridges for our convenience.
Meanwhile we must open some new source of supplies, or we may starve to
death among these hills yet. Captain Maitland, I have a proposal to make
to you. You are impatient, Sir.
_Mait_. General Burgoyne!----
_Bur_. Nay, nay,--there's no haste about it. It were cruel to detain you
now, after the toil of this wild journey. You'll find your quarters
changed, Captain Maitland. We sent a small detachment across the river
just now. Some of our copper-colored allies had got into a fray with the
enemy there.
_Mait_. Ha! (_returning_.)
_Bur_. Nothing of consequence, as it turns out. We hoped it would have
ended in something. A few of the enemy, who were stationed as a guard on
a hill not far from Fort Edward, were surprised by a party of Indians,
and killed, to a man, I believe. Afterwards, the victors got into a
deadly fray among themselves as usual. A quarrel between a couple of
these chiefs, at some famous watering place of theirs, and in the midst
of it, a party from the fort drove them from the ground;--this is
Alaska's own story at least.
_Mait_. _Alaska's!_
_Bur_. Alaska?--Alaska?--yes, I think it was,--one of these new allies
we have picked up here.
_Mait_. (_In a whisper_.) Good God!
_Bur_. By the time our detachment arrived there, however, the ground was
cleared, and they took quiet possession. Are you ill, Captain Maitland?
_Mait_. A little,--it is nothing. I am to cross the river.
_Bur_, Yes. You will take these papers to Captain Andre. You have
over-fatigued yourself. You should have taken more time for this wild
journey.
(_Maitland goes out_.)
_Bur_. I do not like the idea of division, but it cannot be helped now.
This gallant young soldier were a fitting leader for such an enterprize.
* * * * *