I question if, after showing the bravery they already had, the lads needed any words to stiffen their backs; but it pleased the old soldier to make it appear as if we had clear sailing before us, and did no real harm.
Then we started on the march, which would be long because it was necessary, after passing the encampment, to make considerable of a détour in order to avoid, first, a battery of three guns, then one of four mortars, and, lastly, a battery of three more guns, all of which extended northwesterly from St. Leger's headquarters.
After this distance had been traversed, we passed within less than two hundred feet of the line of trenches which had been begun as an approach to the fort, and then bore to the southward again, crossing the Albany road.
Finally, at perhaps two o'clock in the morning, we arrived at a broad elevation, the easternmost slope of which came very near to the outer walls of the fort.
Here it would be necessary to advance without cover for perhaps an hundred yards, and it was this last and most dangerous work that Sergeant Corney insisted on doing himself.
My company found fairly good hiding-places in the thicket near at hand, Jacob and I creeping out to the edge of the foliage in order to keep watch upon the old soldier as he made his way like a snake over the plain, which was almost entirely destitute of vegetation.
He set off without delay, for, owing to the lateness of the hour, there was no time to be wasted, and our hearts were literally in our mouths as we watched him make his way slowly along, at imminent danger each second of being fired upon by the sentinels inside the fort.
Everything was in our favor on this night, otherwise Sergeant Corney's attempt would not have been the simple matter which it appears as set down by me.
True it is we had previously visited the fort, and that while many of the enemy's sentinels were on the alert; but because a task has once been done is no proof that it may be accomplished a second time. In fact, it is by trying a hazardous venture again and again that it becomes yet more dangerous, or, in other words, "The pitcher that goes often to the well will one day return broken."
I question if there could have been found in the entire Mohawk Valley a man who would have performed the task better than did Sergeant Corney. The night was not particularly dark, and we who were watching from the undergrowth knew exactly where to look for him, but yet there were many times when I failed utterly to distinguish his form, although, as I have already said, there was nothing in the way of vegetation to screen his movements.