United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
At all events, he refused to surrender, and two days later General St.
Leger sent a written demand, the reply to which contained the emphatic
statement that it was Colonel Gansevoort's determined resolution with the
force under his command, to defend the fort to the last extremity.
We learned also, through different friendly visits which were paid to
Joseph Brant by the officers, that General St. Leger was continuing the
siege in true military fashion, advancing by parallels slowly but surely,
and it was the belief of all our enemies that they must of a necessity
soon succeed in their purpose.
The information which we thus obtained did not tend to make us feel any
more comfortable in mind. In case the fort was taken, the utmost we could
hope for would be to escape death, but at the cost of remaining, no one
knows how long, as slaves to the savages.
If, however, the garrison made such a resistance as we believed they
would, and then were finally overcome, the Indians being allowed to wreak
vengeance until their thirst for blood was satisfied, then was it probable
we would go to the stake with a goodly company and little chance of
escape.
However, I am not minded to set down here all our fears. One can readily
understand how many and great they were, and how we twisted and turned
each additional bit of information which we gathered by eavesdropping,
until it seemed as if matters which had no bearing whatsoever on our
condition were a direct and deadly menace.
I have said that we were eight days closely confined in this one lodge,
and then came the night when we were lifted from out the mire of despair
into which we had fallen, so suddenly as to make us literally dizzy with
hope.
During the afternoon of this day Thayendanega's warriors had spent their
time laying on an unusual quantity of paint, and arraying themselves to
the last feather of their finery, therefore we knew that something of
considerable importance was on foot. When they marched out of the
encampment, the medicine-men leading the way, with the beating of drums
and blowing of horns, we believed a council of war was to be held, in
which these wretches, most likely to tickle their vanity, had been invited
to take part.
When, just as they were setting out, the rain began to fall heavily and
the wind to blow in a manner which betokened a summer storm, I found the
wildest delight in picturing to myself the discomforts which would be
theirs unless St. Leger had tents sufficient to provide them all with
shelter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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