Corporal 'Lige's Recruit: A Story of Crown Point and Ticonderoga

The old man gazed sternly at the boy while one might have counted ten, and then said in a tone of sadness:

“It’s a shame, Isaac Rice, that after bein’ with me all these years, an’ hearin’ more or less regardin’ military matters, you shouldn’t have more sense.”

“Why, what have I said now, corporal? Is it any harm to think that farmers might take a fort?”

“Of course it is, lad. If anything of that kind could happen, what’s the use of having soldiers?”

“But I suppose it is necessary to have an army if there’s going to be war,” Isaac replied innocently, and this last was sufficient to completely fill the vials of the old man’s wrath.

That this pupil of his should fail at the very first opportunity to show a proper spirit, was to him most disappointing, and during the half-hour which followed he refused to speak, even though Isaac alternately begged his pardon for having been so ignorant and expressed regret that he had said anything which might give offense.

During all this while the citizens of Pittsfield were following the recruits in a most friendly manner, believing it their duty to thus cheer those who might soon be amid the carnage of battle, and perhaps not one realized how seriously he was by such method offending Corporal ’Lige.

Isaac’s father was among this well-intentioned following, as were two of the lad’s brothers, and when these representatives of the Rice family, having walked as far as the head of the household deemed necessary, were about to turn back, they ranged themselves either side of the corporal and his pupil, in order to bid the latter farewell.

“I expect you will give a good account of yourself, Isaac, when it comes to fighting, and I feel all the more confident in regard to it because you are under the wing of a man who knows what it is to be a soldier.”

This compliment was intended for Corporal ’Lige as a matter of course; but he paid no other attention to it than to say:

“If the lad had profited by my teachings, he’d know that he has no right to talk with outsiders while he’s in the ranks.”

“That’s exactly it,” Mr. Rice replied, wholly oblivious that the corporal was administering what he believed to be a most severe rebuke. “That is exactly it, my son, and you will do well to remember that you cannot fail in your duty so long as you take pattern from the corporal.”

The old soldier gave vent to what can be described only as a “snort” of contempt; and the boy’s sorrow was as nothing compared with what it had been when bidding good-by to his mother.

After the young Rices had turned their faces homeward in obedience to the orders of the elder Rice, Isaac gave more heed to copying the movements of the corporal, thereby atoning in a certain measure for his previous injudicious remarks.

The boy firmly believed that no more able soldier could be found in all the colonies than this same Corporal ’Lige, and had any person ventured to remark that the expedition might be as well off without him, Isaac would have set the speaker down as one lacking common sense.

Take the corporal out of the ranks, and young Rice would have said there was no possibility either Crown Point or Ticonderoga could be captured.

Thus it was that an order from Colonel Allen, Colonel Easton, or Seth Warner was as nothing compared with one from Corporal ’Lige, in the mind of Isaac Rice; but there were many in the ranks who did not have such an exalted opinion of the old soldier, and these were free with their criticisms and unfavorable remarks, much against the raw recruit’s peace of mind, as well as the corporal’s annoyance.

It was because of these light-headed volunteers, who saw only in this expedition a novel and agreeable form of junketing, out of which it was their duty to extract all the sport possible regardless of the feelings of others, that Corporal ’Lige withdrew himself, so to speak, from his comrades, and barely acknowledged the salutes of any save his superior officers.

At the end of the second day’s journey he refused to go into camp with them; but applied to the captain of his company for permission to advance yet a short distance further, at which point he could join the troops when they came forward next morning. It was known by all the expedition, even including those who were making the old soldier the butt of their mirth, that he was held in high esteem by Colonel Ethan Allen, and the request, although irregular, was readily granted, after a warning against the perils attendant upon such a course.

“It is better you stay with the troops, corporal,” the captain said kindly, “although I have no hesitation in saying you are free to do as you choose.”

“And I do not choose to remain in the encampment for all the young geese – who fancy that by signing the rolls they have become soldiers – to sharpen their wits upon, therefore I would halt by myself, taking only the recruit I claim as my own, for company.”

“I will have a care that you are not annoyed again,” the officer replied in a kindly tone; but this was not to Corporal ’Lige’s liking.

“If a soldier can only keep his self-respect by running to his superior officers like a schoolboy when matters are not to his fancy it is time he left the ranks. After we have smelt burning powder I fancy these youngsters will keep a civil tongue in their heads, and until then I had best care for myself.”

This was such good logic that the captain could oppose no solid argument against it, therefore the old soldier received permission for himself and “his recruit” to form camp wherever it should please him, provided, however, that they remained in the ranks while the command was advancing.

Not until after the matter had been thus settled did the captain take it upon himself to warn the corporal that it was not wholly safe to thus separate from his companions.

“It is well known that our movements are being watched by both Tories and Indians,” he said in a friendly manner, such as would not offend the obstinate old soldier, “and you can well fancy that they would not hesitate to do some mischief to any of the expedition whom they might come upon alone.”

“I can take care of myself, and also the boy,” Corporal ’Lige replied stiffly, as he saluted his superior officer with unusual gravity, and with this the subject was dropped.

Then the old man said to his recruit, as he motioned him aside that others might not get information concerning his purpose:

“We’ll draw such rations as may be served out, lad, and then push ahead to where we can be in the company of sensible people, meaning our two selves.”

Isaac would have felt decidedly more safe if he could remain with the main body of troops, for he had heard the captain’s caution; but he did not think it wise to give such a desire words, and by his silence signified that he was ready to do whatsoever his instructor should deem to be for the best.

The rations served these volunteers who proposed to reduce the forts at Ticonderoga and Crown Point ere they yet knew a soldier’s duties were not generous, and he who, from a desire to avoid seeming greedy, delayed in applying for them, generally found himself without food, save he might be so fortunate as to beg some from his more provident companions.

Corporal ’Lige was exceedingly friendly to his stomach; he made it a rule never to allow modesty to deprive him of a full share of whatever might be served out, therefore it was he had drawn rations for himself and Isaac almost before the troops came to a halt, and the hindermost were yet marching into camp, weary and travel-stained, when he said to his small comrade:

“There is nothing to keep us here longer, and the sooner we are at a goodly distance from these silly youngsters who fancy that the taking of a musket in their hands makes them soldiers, the better I shall be pleased.”

Isaac gave token of willingness to continue the march by shouldering his weapon once more, and the two set off, attracting no attention from their companions-in-arms, each of whom had little thought save to minister to his own comfort, for this soldiering was rapidly becoming more of a task and less of a pleasure-tour than had been at first supposed.

Not until he was fully a mile from the foremost of the main body did the corporal give any evidence of an intention to halt, and then he showed remarkably good judgment in his selection of a camping-place.

At the edge of a small brook about fifty yards from the main road over which they had been traveling, he threw down his knapsack, and announced in a tone of satisfaction that they would spend the night there.

“It is not too far away, and yet at such a distance that we shall not be forced to listen to the gabbling of those geese,” he said as he set about building a small campfire in order to prepare the food he had procured. “Make yourself comfortable, Isaac Rice, for it is a soldier’s solemn duty to gain all the rest he can.”

“Do you think we shall be safe here?” the boy asked almost timidly, for it seemed little short of a crime to question any proposition made by the corporal.

“Safe, lad? What’s to prevent? If you keep your ears open for stories of danger while you are with the army, you’ll never know peace of mind, for there are always those faint-hearted ones ready to exaggerate the falling of a leaf into the coming of the enemy. I have as much regard for my own safety as for yours, and I say that here we can camp in peace and safety.”

This was sufficient for the corporal’s recruit, and he set about making himself comfortable, with the conviction that none knew better than his comrade the general condition of affairs.

CHAPTER III. AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE

Surely this camping by themselves was exceedingly pleasant, Isaac thought, as the old soldier took upon himself the duties of cook, leaving his recruit with nothing to do save watch him as he worked.

On the previous night they had slept in the midst of a noisy throng who chattered and made merry until an exceedingly late hour, thus preventing the more weary from sleeping, and everywhere in the air, hanging like clouds, was the dust raised by the feet of so many men.

Now these two were in the seclusion of the woods, with a carpet of grass for a bed; the rippling brook to lull them to slumber, and nothing more noisy than the insect life everywhere around to disturb their slumbers.

Corporal ’Lige was in a rare good humor. He prepared an appetizing meal, although his materials were none of the best, and when it had been eaten, seated himself by Isaac’s side with pipe in his mouth, ready and willing to spin yarns of his previous experience as a soldier.

The boy was an eager listener; but after a certain time even the tones of the old soldier’s voice were not sufficient to banish the sleep elves, and his eyes closed in unconsciousness just when his comrade had arrived at the most exciting portion of his narrative.

“Perhaps I shan’t be so willin’ the next time you want to hear what I’ve seen in this world,” Corporal ’Lige said testily when he observed that his audience was asleep, and then, knocking the ashes carefully from his pipe, he lay down by the side of his small companion.

It seemed to Isaac that he had hardly more than closed his eyes in unconsciousness when he was aroused by the pressure of some heavy substance upon his hand, and looking up quickly he saw, in the dim light, three men standing over the corporal.

The foot of one of these strangers was upon the boy’s hand, as if he did not think Isaac of sufficient importance either to warrant his taking him prisoner, or to so much as step aside that he might be spared pain.

Before hearing a single word, Isaac understood that these late-comers were no friends of the corporal’s, and he endured the pain in silence, hoping that by so doing he might escape observation.