Canadian Notabilities, John Charles Dent [brene brown rising strong .TXT] 📗

the people felt that they might at any time be called upon to defend their frontiers. The countless tribes and offshoots of the Huron-Algonquin Indians had cast in their lot with the French, and were to contribute not a little to the success of many of their warlike operations. The French, by means of their forts at Niagara, Toronto and Frontenac (Kingston), held almost undisputed sovereignty over Lake Ontario; and their forts at Crown Point and Ticonderoga enabled them to control Lake Champlain.
Still, the French colonists laboured under some serious disadvantages, which contributed eventually to decide the contest adversely to them. They had given comparatively little attention to the cultivation of the soil, and suffered from a chronic scarcity of food. They were subjected to feudal exactions ill-suited to the condition of the country, and were further impoverished by huge commercial monopolies. Every branch of the public service was corrupt, and the peculations of the officials, if not shared by the Governor himself, were at least winked at or sanctioned by him. Montcalm, whatever may have been his shortcomings in some respects, was no self-seeker, and was very properly disgusted with the mal-administration which everywhere prevailed. His dissatisfaction with, and contempt for, the Governor, had the effect of producing much internal dissention among the Canadians, and of hastening the downfall of French dominion in the colony.
The population of the British colonies at this time was not much less than three millions; but this population, unlike that of Canada, knew little of military affairs. The British colonists had spent their time in commercial and agricultural pursuits, and had not cast loose from the spirit of puritanism which had animated the breasts of their forefathers. As compared with the mother-country they were poor enough in all conscience, but they were as a rule, frugal, industrious and intelligent; and, as compared with their Canadian neighbours, they might almost be said to be in affluent circumstances. They possessed in an eminent degree those qualities--energy, endurance, and courage--which mark the Anglo-Saxon race in every quarter of the globe. Such a foe, if once disciplined and roused to united action, was not to be despised, even by the veteran battalions of France, and the most Christian King showed his appreciation of this fact by sending against them a general who was regarded as the most consummate soldier in Europe.
Having arrived at Quebec about the middle of May, Montcalm lost no time in opening the campaign. One of his earliest proceedings was to lay siege to Fort Oswego, which after a faint resistance, was compelled to surrender. Articles of capitulation were signed, the British laid down their arms, and the fort was delivered over to the conquerors. One hundred and thirty-four cannon and a large quantity of specie and military stores became the spoil of the victors, and more than 1,600 British subjects, including 120 women and children, became prisoners of war.
Up to this epoch in his career the conduct of the Marquis de Montcalm had been such as to deserve the unqualified admiration alike of his contemporaries and of posterity. Though not past his prime, he had achieved the highest military distinction which his sovereign could bestow. His chivalrous courage had been signally displayed on many a hard-fought field, and his urbanity, amiability, and generosity had made him the idol of his soldiers. He had a manner at once grand and ingratiating, and in his intercourse with others he manifested a _bonhomme_ that caused him to be beloved alike by the simple soldier and the haughty _noblesse_ of his native land. Considering his opportunities he had been a diligent student, and had improved his mind by familiarity with the productions of many of the greatest writers of ancient and modern times. By far the greater part of his life had been spent in the service of his country, and when compelled to endure the privations incidental to an active military life in the midst of war, he had ever been ready to share his crust with the humblest soldier in the ranks. Up to this time every action of his life had seemed to indicate that he was a man of high principle and stainless honour. If it had been his good fortune to die before the fall of Oswego his name would have been handed down to future times as a perfect mirror of chivalry--a knight without fear and without reproach. It is sad to think that a career hitherto without a blot should have been marred with repeated acts of cruelty and breaches of faith. On both counts of this indictment the Marquis of Montcalm must be pronounced guilty; and in view of his conduct at Oswego, and afterwards at Fort William Henry, the only conclusion at which the impartial historian can arrive is that he was lamentably deficient in the highest attributes of character.
Fort Oswego was surrendered on the 14th of August. By the terms of capitulation the sick and wounded were specially entrusted to Montcalm, whose word was solemnly pledged for their protection and safe conduct. How was the pledge redeemed? No sooner were the British deprived of their arms than the Indian allies of the French were permitted to swoop down upon the defenceless prisoners and execute upon them their savage will. The sick and wounded were scalped, slain, and barbarously mutilated before the eyes of the Marshal of France, who had guaranteed that not a hair of their heads should fall. Nay, more; a score of the prisoners were deliberately handed over to the savages to be ruthlessly butchered, as an offering to the manes of an equal number of Indians who had been slain during the siege.
Such are the unimpeachable facts of the massacre at Oswego. It is not probable that these proceedings on the part of the Indians were agreeable to the feelings of Montcalm, or that he consented to them with a very good grace. The noble representative of the highest civilization in Europe could scarcely have taken pleasure in witnessing the hideous massacre of defenceless women and children. But he was anxious to retain the co-operation of his red allies at any cost, and had not the moral greatness to exercise his authority to restrain their savage lust for blood. It has been contended by some defenders of his fame that he had no choice in the matter--that the ferocity of the savages was aroused, and could not be controlled. It is sufficient to say in reply that those who argue thus must wilfully shut their eyes to the facts. Was it because he could not restrain his allies that he, without remonstrance, delivered up to them twenty British soldiers to be tortured, cut to pieces, and burned? Was he unable to restrain them when he finally became sickened with their butchery and personally interposed to prevent its further continuance? From the moment when his will was unmistakably made known to the Indians the massacre ceased; and if he had been true to himself and his solemnly-plighted word from the beginning, that massacre would never have begun. By no specious argument can he be held guiltless of the blood of those luckless victims whose dismembered limbs were left to fester before the entrenchments at Oswego.
With the surrender of Oswego Great Britain lost her last vestige of control over Lake Ontario. The fort was demolished, and the French returned to the eastern part of the Province. The result of the campaign of 1756 was decidedly in favour of the French, and Montcalm's reputation as a military commander rose rapidly, though his conduct at Oswego led to his being looked upon with a sort of distrust that had never before attached to his name. His courage and generalship, however, were unimpeachable, and his vigilance never slept. During the following winter his spies scoured the frontiers of the British settlements, and gained early intelligence of every important movement of the forces. Among other information, he learned that the British had a vast store of provisions and munitions of war at Fort William Henry, at the southwestern extremity of Lake George. Early in the spring, Montcalm resolved to capture this fort, and to possess himself of the stores. On the 16th of March, 1757, he landed on the opposite side of the lake, at a place called Long Point. Next day, having rounded the head of the lake, he attacked the fort; but the garrison made a vigorous defence, and he was compelled to retire to Fort Ticonderoga, at the foot of the lake! For several months afterwards his attention was distracted from Fort William Henry by operations in different parts of the Province; but early in the month of August he renewed the attempt with a force consisting of 7,000 French and Canadian troops, 2,000 Indians, and a powerful train of artillery. The garrison consisted of 2,300 men, besides women and children. To tell the story of the second siege and final surrender of Fort William Henry would require pages. Suffice it to say that the dire tragedy of Oswego was re-enacted on a much more extended scale. For six days the garrison was valiantly defended by Lieutenant-Colonel Munro, a veteran of the 35th Regiment of the line. Day after day did the gallant old soldier defend his trust, waiting in vain for succours that never arrived. Finally, when he learned that no succours were to be expected, and that to prolong the strife would simply be to throw away the lives of his men, he had an interview with the French commander and agreed to an honourable capitulation.
Again did Montcalm pledge his sacred word for the safety of the garrison, which was to be escorted to Fort Edward by a detatchment of French troops. The sick and wounded were to be taken under his own protection until their recovery, when they were to be permitted to return to their own camp.
Such were the terms of capitulation; terms which were honourable, to the victor, and which the vanquished could accept without ignominy. How were these terms carried out? No sooner were the garrison well clear of the fort than the shrill war-whoop of the Indians was heard, and there ensued a slaughter so terrible, so indiscriminate, and so inconceivably hideous in all its details that even the history of pioneer warfare hardly furnishes any parallel to it. Nearly a thousand victims were slain on the spot, and hundreds more were carried away into hopeless captivity. No more graphic or historically accurate description of that scene has ever been written than is to be found in "The Last of the Mohicans," where we read that no sooner had the war-whoop sounded than upwards of two thousand raging savages burst from the forest and threw themselves across the plain with instinctive alacrity. "Death was everywhere, in its most terrific and disgusting aspects. Resistance only served to inflame the murderers, who inflicted their furious blows long after their victims were beyond the reach of their resentment. The flow of blood might be likened to the outbreaking of a gushing torrent; and as the natives became heated and maddened by the sight, many among them kneeled on the earth and drank; freely, exultingly, hellishly, of the crimson tide. The trained bodies of the British troops threw themselves quickly into solid masses, endeavouring to awe their assailants by the imposing appearance of a military front. The experiment in some measure succeeded, though many suffered their unloaded muskets to be torn from their hands in the vain hope of appeasing the savages."
It has been alleged on Montcalm's behalf that when the slaughter began he used his utmost endeavours to arrest it. His utmost endeavours! Why, even if his command was insufficient to restrain his allies, he had seven thousand regular troops with arms in their hands, at his back. Instead of theatrically baring his breast, and calling upon the savages to slay him in place