Littlepage Manuscripts: Satanstoe, The Chainbearer & The Redskins (Complete Edition)
There was, however, a reason for the separation I have not yet named, in the fact that all of my own set travelled on foot, three or four pack-horses carrying our necessaries. Now Mr. Worden had been offered a seat in a government conveyance, and Jason managed to worm himself into the party, in some way that to me was ever inexplicable. It is, however, due to Mr. Newcome to confess that his faculty of obtaining favours of all sorts, was of a most extraordinary character; and he certainly never lost any chance of preferment for want of asking. In this respect, Jason was always a moral enigma, to me; there being an absolute absence, in his mind, of everything like a perception of the fitness of things, so far as the claims and rights of persons were connected with rank, education, birth, and experience. Rank, in the official sense, once possessed, he understood and respected; but of the claims to entitle one to its enjoyment, he seemed to have no sort of notion. For property he had a profound deference, so far as that deference extended to its importance and influence; but it would have caused him not the slightest qualm, either in the way of conscience or feeling, to find himself suddenly installed in the mansion of the patroons, for instance, and placed in possession of their estates, provided only he fancied he could maintain his position. The circumstance that he was dwelling under the roof that was erected by another man’s ancestors, for instance, and that others were living who had a better moral right to it, would give him no sort of trouble, so long as any quirk of the law would sustain him in possession. In a word, all that was allied to sentiment, in matters of this nature, was totally lost on Jason Newcome, who lived and acted, from the hour he first came among us, as if the game of life were merely a game of puss in the corner, in which he who inadvertently left his own post unprotected, would be certain to find another filling his place as speedily as possible. I have mentioned this propensity of Jason’s at some little length, as I feel certain, should this history be carried down by my own posterity, as I hope and design, it will be seen that this disposition to regard the whole human family as so many tenants in common, of the estate left by Adam, will lead, in the end, to something extraordinary. But, leaving the Rev. Mr. Worden and Mr. Jason Newcome to journey in their public conveyance, I must return to our own party.
All of us men, with the exception of those who drove the two wagons of Herman Mordaunt, marched a-foot. Each of us carried a knapsack, in addition to his rifle and ammunition; and, it will be imagined, that our day’s work was not a very long one. The first day, we halted at Madam Schuyler’s, by invitation, where we all dined; including the surveyor. Lord Howe was among the guests, that day, and he appeared to admire the spirit of Anneke and Mary Wallace greatly, in attempting such an expedition, at such a time.
“You need have no fears, however, ladies, as we shall keep up strong detachments between you and the French,” he said, more gravely, after some pleasant trifling on the subject. “Last summer’s work, and the disgraceful manner in which poor Munro was abandoned to his fate, has rendered us all keenly alive to the importance of compelling the enemy to remain at the north end of Lake George; too many battles having already been fought on this side it, for the credit of the British arms. We pledge ourselves to your safety.”
Anneke thanked him for this pledge, and the conversation changed. There was a young man present, who bore the name of Schuyler, and who was nearly related to Madam, with whose air, manner and appearance I was much struck. His aunt called him ‘Philip;’ and, being about my own age, during this visit I got into conversation with him. He told me he was attached to the commissariat under Gen. Bradstreet, and that he should move on with the army, as soon as the preparations for its marching were completed. He then entered into a clear, simple explanation of the supposed plan of the approaching campaign.
“We shall see you and your friends among us, then, I hope,” he added, as we were walking on the lawn together, previously to the summons to dinner; “for, to own to you the truth, Mr. Littlepage, I do not half like the necessity of our having so many eastern troops among us, to clear this colony of its enemies. It is true, a nation must fight its foes wherever they may happen to be found; but there is so little in common, between us and the Yankees, that I could wish we were strong enough to beat back the French alone.”
“We have the same sovereign and the same allegiance,” I answered; “if you can call that something in common.”
“That is true; yet, I think you must have enough Dutch blood about you to understand me. My duty calls me much among the different regiments; and, I will own, that I find more trouble with one New England regiment, than with a whole brigade of the other troops. They have generals, and colonels, and majors, enough for the army of the Duke of Marlborough!”
“It is certain, there is no want of military rank among them—and they are particularly fond of referring to it.”
“Quite true,” answered young Schuyler, smiling. “You will hear the word ‘general’ or ‘colonel’ oftener used, in one of their cantonments, in a day, than you shall hear it at Head Quarters in a month. They have capital points about them, too; yet, somehow or other, we do not like each other.”
Twenty years later in life, I had reason to remember this remark, as well as to reflect on the character of the man who had uttered it. I, or my successors, will probably have occasion to advert to matters connected with this feeling, in the later passages of this record.
I had also a little conversation with Lord Howe, who complimented me on what had passed on the river. He had evidently received an account of that affair from some one who was much my friend, and saw fit to allude to the subject in a way that was very agreeable to myself. This short conversation was not worth repeating, but it opened the way to an acquaintance that subsequently was connected with some events of interest.
About an hour after dinner, our party took its leave of Madam Schuyler, and moved on. The day’s march was intended to be short, though by this time the roads were settled, and tolerably good. Of roads, however, we were not long to enjoy the advantages, for they extended only some thirty miles to the north of Albany, in our direction. With the exception of the military route, which led direct to the head-waters of Lake Champlain, this was about the extent of all the avenues that penetrated the interior, in that quarter of the country. Our direction was to the northward and eastward, both Ravensnest and Mooseridge lying slightly in the direction of the Hampshire Grants.
As soon as we reached the point on the great northern road, or that which led towards Skeenesborough, Herman Mordaunt was obliged to quit his wagons, and to put all the females on horseback. The most necessary of the stores were placed on pack-horses; and, after a delay of half a day, time lost in making these arrangements, we proceeded. The wagons were to follow, but at a slow pace, the ladies being compelled to abandon them on account of the ruggedness of the ways, which would have rendered their motion not easy to be borne. Our cavalcade and train of footmen made a respectable display along the uneven road, which soon became very little more than a line cut through the forest, with an occasional wheel-track, but without the least attempt to level the surface of the ground by any artificial means. This was the place where we were to overtake Mr. Worden and Jason, and where we did find their effects; the owners themselves having gone on in advance, leaving word that we should fall in with them somewhere on the route.
Guert and I marched in front, our youth and vigour enabling us to do this with great ease to ourselves. Knowing that the ladies were well cared for, on horseback, we pushed on, in order to make provision for their reception, at a house a few miles distant, where we were to pass the night. This building was of logs, of course, and stood quite alone in the wilderness, having, however, some twenty or thirty acres of cleared land around it; and it would not do to pass it, at that time of the day. The distance from this solitary dwelling to the first habitation on Herman Mordaunt’s property, was eighteen miles; and that was a length of road that would require the whole of a long May day to overcome, under our circumstances.
Guert and myself might have been about a mile in advance of the rest of the party, when we saw a sort of semi-clearing before us, that we mistook at first for our resting-place. A few acres had been chopped over, letting in the light of the day upon the gloom of the forest, but the second growth was already shooting up, covering the area with high bushes. As we drew nearer, we saw it was a small, abandoned clearing. Entering it, voices were heard at no great distance, and we stopped; for the human voice is not