THE FIRST FOURTH OF JULY
Mrs. Scott and her child lived in the family of General Herkimer for a
month or so. Settlers remote from towns and villages had abandoned
their farms. The Indians had gone into the great north bush perhaps to
meet the British army which was said to be coming down from Canada in
appalling numbers. Hostilities in the neighborhood of The Long House
had ceased. The great Indian highway and its villages were deserted
save by young children and a few ancient red men and squaws, too old
for travel. Late in June, Jack and Solomon were ordered to report to
General Schuyler at Albany.
"We're gettin' shoveled eroun' plenty," Solomon declared. "We'll take
the womern an' the boy with us an' paddle down the Mohawk to Albany.
They kind o' fell from Heaven into our hands an' we got to look a'ter
'em faithful. Fust ye know ol' Herk 'll be movin' er swallered hull by
the British an' the Injuns, like Jonah was by the whale, then what 'ud
become o' her an' the Leetle Cricket? We got to look a'ter 'em."
"I think my mother will be glad to give them a home," said Jack. "She
really needs some help in the house these days."
2
The Scotts' buildings had been burned by the Indians and their boats
destroyed save one large canoe which had happened to be on the south
shore of the river out of their reach. In this Jack and Solomon and
"Mis' Scott" and the Little Cricket set out with loaded packs in the
moon of the new leaf, to use a phrase of the Mohawks, for the city of
the Great River. They had a carry at the Wolf Riff and some shorter
ones but in the main it was a smooth and delightful journey, between
wooded shores, down the long winding lane of the Mohawk. Without fear
of the Indians they were able to shoot deer and wild fowl and build a
fire on almost any part of the shore. Mrs. Scott insisted on her right
to do the cooking. Jack kept a diary of the trip, some pages of which
the historian has read. From them we learn:
"Mrs. Scott has bravely run the gauntlet of her sorrows. Now there is
a new look in her face. She is a black eyed, dark haired, energetic,
comely woman of forty with cheeks as red as a ripe strawberry. Solomon
calls her 'middle sized' but she seems to be large enough to fill his
eye. He shows her great deference and chooses his words with
particular care when he speaks to her. Of late he has taken to
singing. She and the boy seem to have stirred the depths in him and
curious things are coming up to the surface--songs and stories and
droll remarks and playful tricks and an unusual amount of laughter. I
suppose that it is the spirit of youth in him, stunned by his great
sorrow. Now touched by miraculous hands he is coming back to his old
self. There can be no doubt of this: the man is ten years younger than
when I first knew him even. The Little Cricket has laid hold of his
heart. Whig sits between the feet of Solomon in the stern during the
day and insists upon sleeping with him at night.
"One morning my old friend was laughing as we stood on the river bank
washing ourselves.
"'What are you laughing at?' I asked.
"'That got dum leetle skeezucks!' he answered. 'He were kickin' all
night like a mule fightin' a bumble bee. 'Twere a cold night an' I
held him ag'in' me to keep the leetle cuss warm.'
"'Hadn't you better let him sleep with his mother?' I asked.
"'Wall, if it takes two to do his sleepin' mebbe I better be the one
that suffers. Ain't she a likely womern?'
"Of course I agreed, for it was evident that she was likely, sometime,
to make him an excellent wife and the thought of that made me happy."
They had fared along down by the rude forts and villages traveling
stealthily at night in tree shadows through "the Tory zone," as the
vicinity of Fort Johnson was then called, camping, now and then, in
deserted farm-houses or putting up at village inns. They arrived at
Albany in the morning of July fourth. Setting out from their last camp
an hour before daylight they had heard the booming of cannon at
sunrise, Solomon stopped his paddle and listened.
"By the hide an' horns o' the devil!" he exclaimed. "I wonder if the
British have got down to Albany."
They were alarmed until they hailed a man on the river road and learned
that Albany was having a celebration.
"What be they celebratin'?" Solomon asked.
"The Declaration o' Independence," the citizen answered.
"It's a good idee," said Solomon. "When we git thar this 'ere ol'
rifle o' mine 'll do some talkin' if it has a chanst."
Church bells were ringing as they neared the city. Its inhabitants
were assembled on the river-front. The Declaration was read and then
General Schuyler made a brief address about the peril coming down from
the north. He said that a large force under General Burgoyne was on
Lake Champlain and that the British were then holding a council with
the Six Nations on the shore of the lake above Crown Point.
"At present we are unprepared to meet this great force but I suppose
that help will come and that we shall not be dismayed. The modest man
who leads the British army from the north declares in his proclamation
that he is 'John Burgoyne, Esq., Lieutenant General of His Majesty's
forces in America, Colonel of the Queen's Regiment of Light Dragoons,
Governor of Fort William in North Britain, one of the Commons in
Parliament and Commander of an Army and Fleet Employed on an Expedition
from Canada!' My friends, such is the pride that goeth before a fall.
We are an humble, hard-working people. No man among us can boast of a
name so lavishly adorned. Our names need only the simple but glorious
adornments of firmness, courage and devotion. With those, I verily
believe, we shall have an Ally greater than any this world can offer.
Let us all kneel where we stand while the Reverend Mr. Munro leads us
in prayer to Almighty God for His help and guidance."
It was an impressive hour and that day the same kind of talk was heard
in many places. The church led the people. Pulpiteers of inspired
vision of which, those days, there were many, spoke with the tongues of
men and of angels. A sublime faith in "The Great Ally" began to travel
up and down the land.