Part 7

The renewal of the war between Great Britain and France in May, 1702, soon led to acrimony and hostility in America; and the cruel persecutions of the Protestants in France caused a religious animosity to be superadded to the hatred entertained by the New Englanders towards their neighbours, whose numbers had now increased to about 15,000. In 1708 the Marquis de Vandreuil carried his operations into the British frontier settlements, having previously negotiated for the neutrality of the Iroquois, who were flattered by being treated as an independent power; but the destruction of the village of Haverhill, and the massacre of some of its inhabitants, compelled the Canadians again to assume a defensive position. The New Englanders made every preparation for an attack on Montreal by land; but the English forces destined for the cooperation by the St. Lawrence river were required for Portugal, and thus the Marquis de Vandreuil had time to make better preparations for defence. The ensuing year (1709) was spent by the English in reducing Acadia, now Nova Scotia; and when the combined land and sea expedition against Canada took place in 1711, it was so ill-managed, and the British fleet, owing to tempestuous weather and ignorance of the coast, met with so many disasters,—losing by shipwreck in one day (the 22d of August) eight transports, 884 officers, soldiers, and seamen—that the expedition returned to Boston, and the restoration of peace between France and England by the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, left the former yet a little longer to harass and molest the British colonists along the Canadian frontier. The Marquis de Vandreuil availed himself of the peace to strengthen the fortifications of Quebec and Montreal; the training of the military, amounting to 5,000 in a population of 25,000, was carefully attended to; barracks were constructed; and a direct assessment levied on the inhabitants for the support of the troops and the erection of fortifications. During ten years of foreign and internal tranquillity, the trade and property of Canada made rapid progress: in 1723 nineteen vessels cleared from Quebec, laden with peltries, lumber, stones, tar, tobacco, flour, pease, pork, &c.; and six merchant ships and two men-of-war were built in the colony.

The death of the Marquis de Vandreuil in October, 1725, was deservedly lamented by the Canadians. He was succeeded in 1726 by the Marquis de Beauharnois, (a natural son of Louis XIV.) whose ambitious administration excited yet more the alarm and jealousy of the English colonists of New York and New England; while the intrigues of the Jesuits with the Indians, contributed not a little to bring about the final struggle for dominion on the American continent, between the two most powerful nations of Europe. The war between Great Britain and France in 1745, led to the reduction in that year of Cape Breton, by a British naval and military force, combined with the provincial troops of the New England colonies; but the successful battle of Fontenoy roused the martial spirit of the Canadians to attempt the re-conquest of Nova Scotia in 1746 and 1747, in which they failed, and the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748 suspended further hostilities. Commissioners were then appointed to settle a boundary line between the British and French territories in North America. The object of the French was to confine the English within the boundary of the Alleghany mountains, and prevent their approach to the Lakes, the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, (where the former were now establishing themselves,) and their tributary streams. The Canadian Government, without any authority from home, and accompanied by a display of military pomp, calculated to impress on the minds of the Indians the idea that France would assert her territorial right to the limits marked, proceeded to survey the projected line of demarcation between the possessions of France and those which the Canadian Governor was pleased, _in his liberality_, to assign to England: leaden plates, bearing the royal arms of France, were sunk at proper distances, and the whole ceremony was concluded with much formality. Such an imprudent step, it may be imagined, seriously alarmed the Indians, as well as the English, and terminated in their active cooperation for the utter expulsion of the French from North America.

In pursuance of the line of policy marked out by the French consuls at home and in Canada, the Jesuits were employed to intrigue with the Acadians, or descendants of the early French inhabitants, with the view of prevailing on them to quit Nova Scotia, and resort to a military post now established beyond its frontier, on the Canada side, where a new colony was to be formed, in aid of which the royal sanction was granted for an appropriation of 800,000 livres. Cornwallis, the governor of Nova Scotia, soon convinced the French that he was aware of their proceedings; he caused a fort to be erected opposite the French, near the bay of Fundy, on the side of the river Beauhassin; and placed it under the command of Major Laurence, and caused to be captured at the mouth of the St. John river, a vessel laden with supplies for the French. While these measures were in progress, the French commenced enforcing their power along the line of demarcation they had marked out; three individuals, who had licenses to trade from their respective English governors, with the Indians on the Ohio, were seized by the French, and carried prisoners to Montreal, whence, after severe treatment and strict examination, they were at length liberated, with injunctions not to trespass _on the French territories_.

The intrigues of the Jesuits with the Iroquois, to detach them from the English, were so far successful, that the Indians permitted the French to erect the Fort La Presentation near their border; and but for the perseverance and extraordinary influence of Sir William Johnston, the wily character of the Canadians would have gone far to frustrate the confederacy forming between the English and the Indians, for the expulsion of the French; whose downfall was ultimately occasioned by the corruption that prevailed within the colony, and the scandalous jobs that the very highest authorities not only winked at, but profited by. The arrival of the Marquis du Quesne de Menneville, in 1752, as Governor of Canada, Louisiana, Cape Breton, St. John’s, and their dependencies, gave indications that hostilities might soon be expected in Europe; and the activity of the marquis was displayed in training and organizing the militia for internal defence: detachments of regulars, militia, and Indians, were despatched to the Ohio; Fort du Quesne (actually within the Virginian territory) and other posts were erected, with a view of keeping the English within the Apalachian or Alleghany mountains; and from Ticonderoga, Crown Point, and Fort Niagara, the most ferocious attacks were made on the peaceable English settlers, notwithstanding the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1748. The British, though still acting on the defensive, were not idle; a fort was built in the vicinity of Du Quesne, quaintly termed _Necessity_, and a garrison was despatched from Virginia, under the command of George Washington, whose name has since become so illustrious, and who then held a Lieutenant-colonel’s commission. Washington, on his march to assume the command of Fort _Necessity_, was met by a reconnoitring party from Du Quesne fort, under M. de Jumouville, who peremptorily forbad the English to proceed further. This mandate was answered by a burst of indignation, and a volley of musquetry, which killed Jumouville and several of his men. The French commandant at Du Quesne, Monsieur Contrecœur, quickly commenced offensive hostilities, invested Fort _Necessity_, and obliged Washington to capitulate. England at that time was preparing for an open war with France, which the ambition of Frederick of Prussia, and the state of Europe soon rendered general. A strong fleet, with troops and warlike munition, was despatched to reinforce Quebec; an English fleet pursued it, but succeeded in capturing only two frigates, with the engineers and troops on board, on the banks of Newfoundland.

In 1755, the Marquis du Quesne having resigned, he was succeeded, in July, by the last French governor in Canada, the Marquis de Vandreuil de Cavagnal, whose administration was auspiciously opened by the defeat of the brave but rash General Braddock, on the 29th July, 1755, in one of the defiles of the Alleghany mountains. Braddock, accustomed to European, rather than to Indian warfare, neglected every precaution of scouts and advanced posts, and refused to make any preparations against the French and their Indian allies, who, when the enemy had entered a gorge, where retreat was almost impossible, poured from their ambuscades on the devoted British a deadly fire, under which the soldiers of the unfortunate Braddock fell rapidly, without even the satisfaction of seeing or meeting their foes. The death of their leader was the signal that further advance was hopeless; and to the credit of George Washington, the second in command, he succeeded in rescuing the remainder of the British army, who were afterwards joined by 6,000 provincial troops, under General Johnston and Governor Shirley. Johnston, with the intention of investing Crown Point, joined General Lyman near Lake George, where they were attacked by 3,000 French, commanded by Baron Dieskau. After a battle of four hours’ duration, the French retreated to Crown Point, with the loss of 1,000 men, and the capture of their leader, who was severely wounded. This success restored the drooping spirits of the British army, and helped to train the provincials (who were brigaded along with the regular troops,) for those contests which they were soon to wage for their independence with the very men by whose side they now fought hand to hand against the French—their subsequent allies. Little did Washington then contemplate the destiny that awaited him.

The campaign of 1755 was closed in October, by the British retiring to Albany, after reinforcing the garrison of Oswego, but without any attack on Crown Point. France, fully aware of the importance of Canada, sent out early in the ensuing year a large body of chosen troops, under the command of the gallant and experienced Major-General the Marquis de Montcalm, who soon invested Fort Oswego, and compelled the garrison to surrender. In the next year’s campaign (1757), success still signalized the progress of the French arms; Fort George was invested and captured; and the English prisoners, amounting to nearly 2,000 regular troops of His Majesty’s service, were brutally massacred while on their march to Fort Edward, by the Indian allies of the French—the latter asserting, or pretending that they were, through inability or neglect, incapacitated from preventing the perpetration of this horrid slaughter. The feelings with which the news of this monstrous deed was received in England, and throughout British America, may well be conceived; it helped to hasten the downfall of the French dominion in Canada, the deepest abhorrence being excited against those who permitted or sanctioned such a diabolical act. The elder Pitt (afterwards Earl of Chatham) then at the head of affairs, and in the full blaze of his eloquence, infused a noble spirit into His Majesty’s counsels, and so wielded the resources and energies of the nation, that the effects were speedily felt in America.

France reinforced her Canadian garrisons; and England opened the campaign of 1759 with a plan of combined operations by sea and land, somewhat, if not mainly, formed on the plan adopted in 1690, and already detailed. The invasion of Canada was to take place at three different points, under three generals of high talent; that destined for Quebec being considered the chief. The forces for the latter place were under the command of the heroic General Wolfe, and amounted to about 8,000 men, chiefly drawn from the army which, under the same commander, had taken Fort Louisberg in Cape Breton, and subdued the whole island in the preceding year. Wolfe’s army was conveyed to the vicinity of Quebec by a fleet of vessels of war and transports, commanded by Admiral Saunders, and was landed in two divisions off the island of Orleans, 27th June, 1759. The Marquis de Montcalm made vigorous preparations for defending Quebec; his armed force consisted of about 13,000 men, of whom six battalions were regulars, and the remainder well disciplined Canadian militia, with some cavalry and Indians; and his army was ranged from the river St. Lawrence to the Falls of Montmorency, with the view of opposing the landing of the British forces. A few ships of war, including fire ships, assisted De Montcalm. The skilful disposition of the French commander was shown in the failure of the British attack on the intrenchments at Montmorency, where the British lost 182 killed and 450 wounded, including 11 officers killed and 46 wounded. In consequence of this repulse, Wolfe sent despatches to England, stating that he had doubts of being able to reduce Quebec during that campaign.

Prudence and foresight are the characteristics of a good general, as well as of an able statesman. Wolfe called a council of war—he showed that the fire of his ships of war, which had passed and repassed Quebec, had done little damage to the citadel, though the lower town had been nearly destroyed—that further attacks on the Montmorency intrenchments were useless: it was therefore proposed, as the only hope of success, to gain the heights of Abraham behind and above the city, commanding the weakest point of the fortress. The council, composed of the principal naval and military commanders, acceded to this daring proposal; and their heroic leader, although suffering severely from sickness, commenced his operations on the memorable morning of the 13th of September, 1759, with an address, secrecy and silence, that have perhaps never been equalled; indeed, so difficult was the ascent of the narrow pass where the troops landed, that the soldiers had to climb the precipice, by the aid of the branches of shrubs and roots of trees growing among the rocks. De Montcalm found all his vigilance unavailing to guard this important pass—he lost his usual prudence and forbearance, and finding his opponent had gained so much by hazarding all, he, with an infatuation for which it is difficult to account, resolved to meet the British in battle array on the plains of Abraham. The French sallied forth from a strong fortress without field artillery—without even waiting for the return of a large force of 2,000 men, detached as a corps of observation under De Bougainville against the British fleet—and with a heat and precipitation as remarkable as were the coolness of the British. The eagle eye of Wolfe saw that to him retreat was almost impossible; but, while directing his main attention to the steady advance of his right division, he skilfully covered his flanks, and endeavoured to preserve their communication with the shore. Both armies may be said to have been without artillery, the French having only two guns, and the English a light cannon, which the sailors dragged up the heights with ropes; the sabre and the bayonet accordingly decided the day, and never was the nervous strength of the British arm better wielded. The agile Scotch Highlanders, with their stout claymores, served the purpose of cavalry, and the steady fire of the English fusileers compensated in some degree for the want of artillery. The French fought with a desperation heightened by the fanaticism to which their priests had excited them against the English heretics, while the heroism of De Montcalm was as conspicuous as that of his illustrious opponent; both headed their men—both rushed with eagerness wherever the battle raged most fiercely, and often by their personal prowess and example changed the fortune of the moment;—both were repeatedly wounded, but still fought with an enthusiasm which those only who have mixed in the heady current of battle can conceive; in fine, both those gallant commanders fell mortally wounded, while advancing on the last deadly charge, at the head of their respective columns. Wolfe, faint with the loss of blood, reeled, and leant against the shoulder of one of his officers—the purple stream of life was ebbing—the eye that but a few moments before beamed bright with glory, waxed dim, and he was sinking to the earth, when the cry of “_They run!—they run!_” arrested his fleeting spirit. “_Who run?_” exclaimed the dying hero. “_The French_,” returned his supporter. “_Then I die contented!_” were the last words of a Briton who expired in the arms of victory. The chivalrous Montcalm also perished—rejoicing in his last moments that he should not live to witness the surrender of Quebec—and both the conquerors and the conquered joined in deploring their national loss.

The battle may be said to have decided the fate of the French dominion in Canada; five days after, the citadel of Quebec was surrendered, and occupied by General Murray with a force of 5,000 men, and the British fleet sailed for England. The contemplated junction of the invading British forces took place at Montreal in September 1760; and by the treaty between France and England, in 1763, the former resigned all further pretensions to Canada and Nova Scotia,—thus losing at one blow every acre of her North American dominions.

The population of Canada, on its conquest by the British, was about 65,000, inhabiting a narrow strip of land on the banks of the St. Lawrence, and chiefly employed in agriculture. No people ever had juster cause of gratitude for the cession of the country to Great Britain than the Canadians. Bigot, the Intendant, or King’s financier, and his creatures, plundered the colonists in every direction; a paper currency, termed card-money, founded on the responsibility of the King of France, for the general support of the civil and military establishments of the colony, and which, from having been faithfully redeemed during a period of thirty years, enjoyed unlimited credit, enabled Bigot to conceal for a long time his waste and peculations; and while the British were capturing Canada by force of arms, the French monarch was destroying the commerce and prospects of his subjects by dishonouring the bills of exchange of the Intendant, to whom he had granted absolute power; thus involving in ruin not only the holders of 12,000 livres (£500,000 sterling) but also those who possessed any paper currency, which at the conquest amounted to £4,000,000 sterling, and the only compensation received for which was four per cent. on the original value.

Civil and religious liberty was granted to the Canadians; and in the words of the writer of the Political Annals of Canada, “previous history affords no example of such forbearance and generosity on the part of the conquerors towards the conquered—forming such a new era in civilized warfare, that an admiring world admitted the claim of Great Britain to the glory of conquering a people, less from views of ambition and the security of her other colonies, than from the hope of improving their situation, and endowing them with the privileges of freedom.”

After the more stirring and scientific discoveries of civilized navigators and adventurers, it will not be uninteresting to present the simple story of an Indian chief, who crossed the continent without compass or chart, and with no resources but his courage and native talent for expedient; and in this rude way, made discoveries which would thrill the bosom of the most romantic navigator. The story was told by the chief himself (through an interpreter), to the gentleman who reported it, in the following words, to the Historical Society of Quebec:—

“I had lost my wife, and all the children whom I had by her, when I undertook my journey towards the sun-rising. I set out from my village, contrary to the inclination of all my relations, and went first to the Chicasaws, our friends and neighbours. I continued among them several days, to inform myself whether they knew whence we all came,—they, who were our elders; since from them came the language of the country. As they could not inform me, I proceeded on my journey. I reached the country of the Chasuanous, and afterwards went up the Wabash, or Ohio, almost to its source, which is in the country of the Iroquois, or Five Nations. I left them, however, towards the north; and during the winter, which in that country is very severe, and very long, I lived in a village of the Abenaquis, where I contracted an acquaintance with a man somewhat older than myself, who promised to conduct me, the following spring, to the Great Water. Accordingly, when the snows were melted, and the weather was settled, we proceeded eastward; and, after several days’ journey, I at length saw the Great Water, which filled me with such joy and admiration that I could not speak. Night drawing on, we took up our lodging on a high bank above the water, which was sorely vexed by the wind, and made so great a noise that I could not sleep. Next day, the ebbing and flowing of the water filled me with great apprehension; but my companion quieted my fears, by assuring me that the water observed certain bounds, both in advancing and retiring. Having satisfied our curiosity in viewing the Great Water, we turned to the village of the Abenaquis, where I continued the following winter; and after the snows were melted, my companion and I went and viewed the great fall of the river St. Lawrence, at Niagara, which was distant from the village several days’ journey. The view of this great fall at first made my hair stand on end, and my heart almost leap out of its place; but afterwards, before I left it, I had the courage to walk under it. Next day we took the shortest road to the Ohio; and my companion and I cutting down a tree on the banks of the river, we formed it into a pettiauger, which served to conduct me down the Ohio and the Mississippi; after which, with much difficulty, I went up our small river, and at length arrived safe among my relations, who were rejoiced to see me in good health.