FRENCH AGGRESSION
In a previous chapter reference has already been made to the fatality of
having no form of union among the Thirteen Colonies. Every chance of
concentration existed towards the end of the seventeenth century, for
the colonies were contiguous, they lay in compact and continuous
territory along the eastern seaboard, backed by the boundary of the
Alleghanies. They were too, for the most part, inhabited by Englishmen,
who may originally have been driven to emigrate for very different
reasons, but who were in reality of the same stock and blood. But though
everything pointed to union, the necessary concomitants were comparative
only, and union was impossible. The colonies were squabbling, jarring
communities, without any constitutional links; they were surrounded and
separated by vast tracts of impenetrable forest; their traditions,
religions, and beliefs were entirely opposed; and each colony was as
much divided in thought and feeling from its neighbours as from the home
country. This lack of concentration was one of the main differences
between the English on the American coast and the French in Canada. This
want of union was unknown in New France, where centralisation, perhaps
over-centralisation, was the predominating feature. One governor at the
head of all, a semi-feudal system, and an absolute reliance upon each
other and upon support from home made the numerically inferior Canada in
some respects superior to the Thirteen Colonies. At the end of the
seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth centuries, therefore,
the French possessed great advantages over their southern rivals; and
the English, disunited and internally jealous, were likely to prove
impotent against the Government of Quebec.
From the very first the relations between the colonies and Canada had
been unfriendly, but the feelings of antagonism increased as the
seventeenth century grew in years; and by the time that Frontenac ruled
Canada and Thomas Dongan was English Governor at New York, this feeling
had reached a climax. So pressing had the question become that the
colonies, in 1684, held a general conference at Albany, the outcome of
which, to the alarm of the French, was a firm alliance with the Five
Nations or Iroquois. No greater struggle, however, resulted than an
acrimonious literary warfare between the energetic Dongan and the
capable Denonville concerning numerous attacks upon English and Dutch
traders.
The English Revolution, the recall of Dongan, and the reappointment of
Count Frontenac as governor of Canada were contemporaneous and were
sufficient reasons for more trouble. The acceptance of William and Mary
in England meant war in Europe; and Frontenac, seeing his opportunity,
began what was called by the English settlers King William's war. The
French governor made elaborate plans to attack New York, but having
failed, found on his return that the Iroquois had disastrously raided
Canada and massacred the people of Lachine. A fresh expedition was
planned at a most unfortunate moment for the English colonists, who were
suffering from the effects of the Revolution; and New York, in
particular, was in the throes of the already mentioned Leisler rising.
For Frontenac it was the ideal chance; now if ever he felt that he was
bound to succeed against the English. His plans were well laid: his
force was divided into three parties, which were to strike their blows
at the same time and paralyse the settlers with terror. The first party
with a band of Indians, under the famous rangers the brothers
D'Iberville, started along the familiar waterway of the Richelieu River,
Lake Champlain, and the Hudson, to attack Albany. By mischance they
turned to the west and fell upon the little Dutch settlement of
Schenectady, which was unguarded except for a few militiamen from
Connecticut. The scene can only be described as one of helpless and
hideous massacre; all who resisted were butchered and the place was
deliberately and ruthlessly burnt. The second expedition was no less
successful in carrying out their horrible task. It was mere murder. For
three months they worked their way down to the settlement of Salmon
Falls on the borders of New Hampshire and Maine. Here the settlers,
little expecting such a terrible visit, were murdered while sleeping.
Elated with these horrors, the French and Indians moved on to join their
other comrades, and together, between four and five hundred strong,
attacked Fort Loyal in the settlement of Falmouth, where now stands the
town of Portland. Sylvanus Davies, the commander of the fort,
surrendered on the promise of quarter and freedom; the promise was so
much waste paper, and some of the English suffered the fate of the
inhabitants of Schenectady, while others were led captive to Quebec.
The lesson learnt by the English colonists was a salutary one, and the
immediate result of Frontenac's three successes was a tendency on the
part of the settlers to unite. At a solemn conference held in 1690 at
Albany, the colonies came to the conclusion that a combined naval and
military force must attack the French at once. The authorities in
Massachusetts took the lead; the "Bostonnais," as the French called
them, were seamen to the backbone. They had come, as has been shown, of
a sturdy Puritan stock, and as dwellers by the sea and traders on its
waters, they possessed those very characteristics which the Canadians so
sadly lacked. It was therefore the people of Boston who did all they
could to further the attack by sea, by which the main effort was to be
made; the land forces were not supported with the same enthusiasm and
were thereby insufficient for the work in hand, as events afterwards
proved, and instead of a magnificent military exhibition against Canada,
the soldiers did little more than raid a French settlement at La
Prairie.
The memory of David Kirke's attack upon Quebec was still green, although
sixty years had passed since that event. The aforetime ship's carpenter
and sea-rover, Sir William Phipps, governor of Massachusetts, was now
burning to renew the old glories of the colonial navy at the expense of
France. He had already, at the time of the French attack upon Falmouth,
taken possession of their one stronghold in Acadia, Port Royal, and
returned with much booty, some prisoners, and an increased reputation as
a brave, patriotic man. In August 1690, with 34 ships and 2200 men,
Phipps sailed from Nantucket to attack Quebec, the headquarters of the
French Government. The inhabitants had been lulled by continuous peace
into a sense of security, which was neither justified by past experience
not by daily occurring events. The expedition, however, landed too late
in the year. What happened to it was what Wolfe dreaded nearly seventy
years later. It was late in October before the men had disembarked and
the wet and cold season had already set in. The food supplies ran short;
sickness broke out and the little party was easily outnumbered. Phipps
bombarded the lower town to his heart's content, but he made the fatal
mistake of trying to attack from Beauport, instead of by means of the
path, which was afterwards discovered by Wolfe, and which had already
been shown to the "Bostonnais" general. The failure of the gallant band
from Massachusetts was complete; but there was something truly
magnificent about the whole affair. The man who had once tended sheep,
who had been a common seaman, and worked his way up the rungs of the
ladder of fame and prosperity, now pitted himself against the Count de
Frontenac, noble of France; the humble citizens of Boston, who, up to
that moment, had shown more interest in religious intolerance and the
rejection of any unnecessary pressure from England, had dared to attack
the ancient fortress of New France, garrisoned by trained forces and
skilled backwoodsmen warriors; practically one humble Puritanic colony
strove against the pomp and might of his Catholic Majesty, Louis
Quatorze.
The New England colonies, headed by Massachusetts, were bound to
struggle against the French with more determination than any of their
colonial brethren. New York did occasionally suffer severe attacks such
as that which had been intended for Albany; but the French realised very
clearly that their raids in this direction were always liable to be
repulsed, not by the settlers themselves, but by the warlike Iroquois,
who were in every way bound to the English and antagonistic to France.
The Puritan colonies, on the other hand, were threatened by Indian foes
just as friendly to the Canadians as the Iroquois were towards the New
Yorkers. The Abenaki Indians were an ever constant danger along the New
England borders, and their hostile attitude was intensified by the
Jesuits, who had acquired over them an influence even greater than that
which they had gained over other tribes. It was, in fact, the priests'
main task, particularly during the latter years of the seventeenth
century, to incite the Indians in their attacks upon the English. Wild,
looting, scalping, murdering bands poured in upon the unhappy settlers
who dwelt along the borders of New Hampshire and Maine. The French
feared, and with reason, that unless they kept this blood-lust at fever
heat, the Abenaki like the Iroquois would be won over by the English
owing to the fascination of a lucrative commerce.
The onslaughts that had to be resisted were not only from the Indians.
The success of Phipps at Port Royal, and his daring attack upon Quebec,
forced the Canadians to cry aloud for some form of retaliation, which
swiftly came. No sooner had Villebon recaptured Port Royal in Acadia,
than, in 1692, a definite series of massacres were organised along the
colonial sea-coast, and for years the English frontiers were swept with
desolating raids. York in Maine was the first to suffer the horrors of
this combined Indian and French warfare. Wells, further north, was more
successful in its resistance; for here Convers and thirty militiamen
drove back a party of Indians and French who had hoped to perpetrate the
usual butchery. The terror began again in 1694, and the settlers at
Oyster River were either immediately killed or carried into captivity.
That such things were tolerated by the New Englanders, and especially by
the people of Massachusetts, who had been so energetic in their naval
expeditions, is extremely surprising; there can be little doubt that the
settlers in the larger towns exhibited extraordinary indifference to
these raids upon their more isolated brethren. Massachusetts, with a
population of 50,000, was quite capable of building a strong line of
forts and organising a well-equipped border police. A few forts they
certainly had, but these were ill-protected and worse cared for. The
only one of any importance was that of Pemaquid, which lay as a rampart
in the path of any Abenaki attack on New England; but so dilatory was
the conduct of the settlers that, at the very moment when they might
have expected serious trouble with the French, they withdrew most of
their troops and in 1689 allowed the fort to be taken by the Indians.
The energetic Phipps had done his best, and in 1692 Pemaquid was rebuilt
and regarrisoned. The later story of this fort is one that causes
Englishmen to blush for the scandalous and dastardly action of one of
their countrymen. In 1696, acting under the orders of Stoughton,
lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts, Chubb tempted a party of Abenaki
to come to the fort, and there killed some and kidnapped others. The
French immediately seized the opportunity to revenge this cowardly
treatment of the savages, and on August 14, Iberville, after making a
triumphal progress from Quebec, capturing English vessels as he sailed
along the coast, appeared before Fort Pemaquid. Chubb scornfully refused
to surrender, and supported his vainglorious words by capitulating the
very next day.
So delighted were the French by their success that in the following year
they determined to capture Boston. The Marquis de Nesmond was to command
the fleet, while Frontenac was to lead the land forces. Delay for one
reason or another, contrary winds and stormy weather, kept the
expedition back until the summer was passed, when it was found to be too
late in the season to proceed. By the time that any fresh expedition
could be undertaken King William's War was over, and the Treaty of
Ryswick had been signed and was proclaimed in America in 1698. The
importance of the treaty with regard to the American colonies is to be
found only in the fact that it gave breathing-space to the combatants.
Both parties regarded it as a truce more than a treaty, and both looked
forward to a not far distant date when their differences might once
again be decided by the arbitrament of war.
The long-looked-for day came in 1701 when James II. died, and Louis
XIV., with that spirit, half-bravado half-chivalrous, declared the Old
Pretender James III. of England. The real fighting that now ensued took
place not in the forests of North America but in the lowlands of Europe.
The Netherlands, the cockpit of Europe, were once again to be drenched
with blood. The battles of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, and
Malplaquet played an important part in the history of North American
colonies. Fighting, however, was not unknown in the West, and on May 4,
1702, war was openly declared. The old raiding expeditions began again,
and the French led the way by an attack on Wells, situated on Casco Bay.
The little town was terribly beset by the marauding Abenaki Indians, and
was almost at its last gasp when succoured by an armed force by sea from
Massachusetts. Then followed the historic attack upon Deerfield in 1704.
It was a small town of 300 inhabitants on the north-west border of
Massachusetts. The French and their Indian allies burst upon it in
February. Fifty of the people were butchered and one hundred were
carried into a captivity made famous by John Williams, one of the
prisoners, in _The Redeemed Captive returning to Sion_. "The direct and
simple narrative of Williams is plainly the work of an honest and
courageous man."[255] He tells of his own and his fellow-captives'
sufferings; and, in particular, of how the Jesuits promised him untold
wealth if he would be converted, to which he replied, "the offer of the
whole world would tempt him no more than a blackberry."[256] As years
went by the captives were either exchanged or, having been converted,
married Canadians and settled at Quebec or Montreal.
The disgrace of these murdering expeditions falls upon the French
Government, for they were planned by French officials and were carried
out for the most part by savage Indians. It must be allowed, however,
that the havoc on the border settlements of Canada had been caused by
the Five Nations, the friends of the English. Thus retaliation was the
feeling that grew up on both sides. The Canadians cared nothing for the
horrors that they perpetrated in the New England colonies; while the
English settlers naturally vented their wrath upon the nearest object of
attack, Acadia, for their indignation had been fanned to white heat by
the unspeakable horrors of Indian war. In revenge for the massacre at
Deerfield, Major Benjamin Church with a force from New England appeared
before Port Royal in 1704, and burnt the French settlement at Grand Pré.
Three years later Colonel John March, supported by a company of
volunteers from Massachusetts, made an attack upon Acadia, which proved
abortive. This expedition, together with a French raid upon Haverfield
on the Merrimac, had the effect of stirring Massachusetts to more
grandiose schemes, and in 1708 Samuel Vetch was sent to England to ask
for the assistance of regular troops.
The emissary selected by the "Bostonnais" had been well-chosen, for in
the colonies he was one of the most notable men of his day. He had lived
in the tropical heats of Darien; he had sojourned amongst the French
Canadians; and he had mixed with the cosmopolitan population of New
York. His adventurous life had given him an intimate knowledge of the
affairs and methods of the English and French colonial systems. He was a
shrewd, self-made man; very impetuous and sanguine, but at the same time
astute and wary. Above all he was filled with determination and
ambition, and if he had his own advance at heart, it was only in
conjunction with the true welfare of his country and her colonies. His
great ambition was, that "Her Majesty shall be sole empress of the vast
North American Continent." Vetch had the common sense to see that this
glorious object could only be accomplished by a united and aggressive
action against France. The first-hand knowledge that Vetch possessed
seems to have had considerable influence at the English Court; and as
Marlborough's victories had been so decisive in Europe, it was thought
that something might be done in America. In fact, the agent was granted
all that he had asked, and he returned to Massachusetts with a promise
of a fleet and five regiments, amounting in all to about 3000 men.
The prospect of conquering Canada now appeared less visionary than ever
before; the settlers ought to have felt that they were entering on the
last great struggle, had it not been for the fact that, as always,
colony was divided against colony. Pennsylvania, the home of the Quaker,
disapproved of war on principle; it was a safe theory for the
Pennsylvanians, for they were out of reach of French attack, and they
knew that they were well protected by those colonies which lay in the
zone of danger. Then, too, instead of acting like true men, the people
of New Jersey refused any actual help in the way of a force, though they
were not so mean as the Pennsylvanians, for they did send a contribution
of money. The New Yorkers exhibited a more magnanimous spirit; they
threw in their lot with the people of New England and roused the Five
Nations against the French. The chief expedition by land was under the
command of Colonel Francis Nicholson, who wrote to Lord Sunderland in
July, and said that if "I had not accepted the command, there would have
been insuperable difficulties."[257] This sentence tells its own story,
for the writer knew that any other commander would have been without
support owing to the shameful provincial jealousies which were the
everlasting reproach and curse of the American states. Nicholson was a
man of robust strength, a clear, practical brain, though ambitious,
vehement, and bold. He had already proved himself a fairly capable
colonial governor in Virginia, New York, Maryland, and Carolina, where,
though his private life may not have been a pattern of strict morality,
his conduct in official affairs was unimpeachable. With 1500 men he
entrenched himself at Wood Creek, near Lake Champlain, where he was
besieged by Ramesay, governor of Montreal. The settlers were able to
drive back the French, but were forced to wait anxiously for news of the
grand naval expedition that was to do so much; they waited in vain, day
by day being struck down by disease and pestilence; and Nicholson was
finally compelled to retreat, leaving behind him innumerable graves as
proofs of the patience and courage of his little force.
The British squadron with the promised regiments was long overdue. The
forces of Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island were encamped
at Boston ready, on the appearance of the fleet, to sail to Quebec. From
May to July they were diligently drilled, and Vetch wrote in August,
"The bodies of men are in general better than in Europe and I hope their
courage will prove so too; so that nothing in human probability can
prevent the success of this glorious enterprise but the too late arrival
of the fleet."[258] If it should not come, "it would be the last
disappointment to her Majesty's colonies, who have so heartily complied
with her royal order, and would render them much more miserable than if
such a thing had never been undertaken."[259] The fleet never came! To
the grief and despair of the colonies, it had been sent to Portugal to
meet the exigencies of the European war. Although the hearts of the
English settlers had been made sick by hope deferred, yet a tenacious
energy had always been one of their strongest characteristics; and the
representatives of Massachusetts still urged the home Government to make
a supreme effort against New France. They asked Nicholson, who sailed
for Europe, to point out how much assistance was needed, how
advantageous the undertaking would be to the Crown, and how impoverished
and enfeebled the colony was by the long and expensive war. The last
plea was true enough, for Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island
had spent on the disastrous military schemes of 1709 no less than
£46,000. Like Massachusetts, the colony of New York was equally anxious
to impress the English Crown with the importance of the question at
stake, and in 1710 sent five Mohawk chiefs under the guidance of Peter
Schuyler to interest the English in colonial affairs, and at the same
time to so impress the chiefs with England's power as to dispose them to
hold fast to their alliance.
The resolution and tenacity shown by the colonies had some effect in the
home country. An English force of over three thousand men was at last
dispatched to Boston; and though timed to arrive in March, it did not
reach that port until July. Meantime the people of Massachusetts had
once again stirred themselves; raised their own militia; tempted the
soldiers of 1709 to rejoin by a promise of the Queen's musket; and
actually quartered troops on private houses, "any law or usage to the
contrary notwithstanding."[260] This fresh outburst of energy culminated
in Nicholson again taking command and sailing for Port Royal. On
September 24, 1710, he reached his object of attack; and on October 1
the French, finding themselves outnumbered, readily surrendered; the
town became Annapolis, and Acadia or Nova Scotia passed permanently into
the possession of Great Britain, owing to the bravery of her American
colonists.
The capture of Acadia was to Nicholson merely a stepping-stone towards
the greater defeat of the French and the final subjugation of New
France. He returned to England to further his schemes and was there ably
supported by Jeremiah Dummer, who was at that time in the service of
Henry St John, Viscount Bolingbroke. The Sacheverell trial of 1710 had,
amongst other things, caused the fall of the Whigs and concluded
Marlborough's warlike schemes. The Tories, champions of peace, were left
in power with St John and Harley as their leaders; but so ably did the
two colonials plead the cause of their brethren, that in April 1711
fifteen men-of-war and forty-six transports, containing five thousand
regular troops, sailed for America. To their intense surprise the
officers of this great armament found on their arrival that they were
regarded by the colonists with the strongest suspicion. The ships had
only been provisioned to reach America; definite orders as to their
further destination had not been issued; and the French had attempted to
poison the minds of the Bostonians by the idea that the British forces
were to subvert colonial liberties and reduce Massachusetts, Rhode
Island, and New Hampshire to the position of Crown colonies. One
Frenchman wrote, "There is an antipathy between the English of Europe
and those of America, who will not endure troops from England even to
guard their forts."[261] Another, Costobelle, had said as early as
December 1709, "I do not think that they are so blind as not to see that
they will insensibly be brought under the yoke of the Parliament of Old
England; but by the cruelties that the Canadians and Indians exercise in
continual incursions upon their lands, I judge that they would rather be
delivered from the inhumanity of such neighbours than preserve all the
former powers of their little republic."[262] For the reasons stated in
this report the New England colonists were on the horns of a dilemma;
they feared the British troops, but they were equally afraid of their
French neighbours.
There were, however, other difficulties. The presence of the British
regulars acted as an incentive to ill-feeling, which showed itself in
the deliberate lack of provisions and pilots, and in the willing shelter
offered to deserters from the army. The English officers, too, failed
entirely to understand now, as again in later years, the character of
the colonists; they were often arrogant or at least patronising; and to
the republican New Englander they appeared bumptious aristocrats. The
colonist was a brave and experienced man, and it was irksome to him to
find himself in an inferior position to men who really knew less than he
did about Indian warfare and forest fighting. On the other hand, the
English troops felt quite as bitterly as the colonists, and Colonel King
wrote to St John in July 1711, "You'll find in my Journal what
Difficultyes we mett with through the Misfortune that the Coloneys were
not inform'd of our Coming two Months sooner, and through the
Interestedness, ill Nature, and Sowerness of these People, whose
Government, Doctrine and Manners, whose Hypocracy and canting, are
insupportable; and no man living but one of Gen'l Hill's good sense and
good nature could have managed them. But if such a Man mett with nothing
he could depend on, altho' vested with the Queen's Royal Power and
Authority, and Supported by a Number of Troops sufficient to reduce by
force all the Coloneys, 'tis easy to determine the Respect and Obedience
Her Majesty may reasonably expect from them ... they will grow more
stiff and disobedient every day unless they are brought under our
government and deprived of their charters."[263]
The inhabitants of Boston may have shown many signs of coolness, but the
authorities of Massachusetts loyally supported the expedition which was
supposed to be about to accomplish so much. On the 30th July the fleet
sailed from Boston to the St Lawrence under the command of Sir Hovenden
Walker, of whom little is known, and who in no way added lustre to his
name. The colonial contingent that went by sea consisted of about
fifteen hundred men, led by the experienced and buoyant Samuel Vetch.
Another colonial force was commanded by Francis Nicholson, whose object
was to move north by way of Lake Champlain and attack the Canadian
strongholds. At the head of all was General Hill, or Jack Hill, the man
about town, who was no soldier, and owed his position to his sister
Abigail Hill, the famous supplanter of the Duchess of Marlborough.
General Hill made no attempt to gain laurels for himself or his country,
and his troops struggled back to Boston disgraced, not by their own
actions, but by the want of action on the part of their leader.
Walker's fleet entered the St Lawrence on the 22nd of August. The
Admiral, totally ignorant of the navigation of the gulf, steered his
vessels in misty weather straight for the northern shore. His own ship
was saved just in time, but not so those which followed, and eight of
the transports were dashed to pieces on the rocks, with a loss of almost
a thousand lives. Walker, as proved by his own writings, never possessed
any true ability; and he was only too ready, like Jack Hill, to look for
some pretext for retreat. This horrible disaster was sufficient for the
Admiral's purpose, and three days later the mighty armament turned away
from Quebec, and New France was for the time saved. Walker looked upon
the wreck as providential, and that the army had been saved from worse
disasters. It was indeed a strange action for a British sailor to pen
words of sincere gratitude for the loss of half his fleet. "Had we
arrived safe at Quebec," he writes, "our provisions would have been
reduced to a very small proportion, not exceeding eight or nine weeks at
short allowance, so that between ten and twelve thousand men must have
been left to perish with the extremity of cold and hunger. I must
confess the melancholy contemplation of this (had it happened) strikes
me with horror; for how dismal must it have been to have beheld the seas
and earth locked up by adamantine frosts, and swoln with high mountains
of snow in a barren and uncultivated region."[264] Walker sailed back to
Boston and then with his fleet returned to England, where as a final
completion to the horrible fiasco, the Admiral's ship was blown up.
Swift records this event as taking place in the Thames, but it more
probably occurred at Spithead, owing "to an accident and carelessness of
some rogue, who was going as they think to steal some gunpowder: five
hundred men are lost."[265]
Every disgraceful plot deserved to come to a bad end. The ignominious
conclusion of the Walker and Hill expedition was only to be expected,
since its true object had been to eclipse the victories of Marlborough
and bring about his entire downfall. St John and Harley had not been
animated by patriotic or imperial sentiments when Mrs Masham had agreed
to assist them in the backstairs attack upon the Churchill family. The
price of her assistance was a high military command for her incapable
brother Jack Hill. The two Tory ministers cared nothing for the success
or failure of the colonies; all they required at the time was the fall
of the Whigs with Marlborough at their head. The blame therefore must to
a certain extent rest upon the English Crown ministers; but the
incompetence of the two commanders, though not unparalleled in English
history, was worse than most instances, because it bordered very closely
upon cowardice. Muddle-headed as some British generals have proved
themselves, it is almost impossible to find another case where the more
serious charge can be brought or sustained. Marlborough had certainly
fallen; but his unpatriotic enemies had not succeeded in effacing the
glories of the four battles which still stand out as the chief features
of the War of the Spanish Succession. Although St John's plot was
disgraceful and deserved the failure that it earned, yet the disaster
fell very hardly upon New England. It has been hinted that the colonials
were themselves to blame, and that they were so afraid of the presence
of an English force that they preferred failure to success. They feared,
according to Colonel King's _Journal_, that "the conquest of Canada will
naturally lead the Queen into changing their present disorderly
government."[266] The New Englanders could not, however, be so
indifferent as is supposed, for the people of Massachusetts at any rate
did their utmost to make the attack a success; and it was afterwards
found that one in five of her male population was on active service in
1711; while many years had to elapse before the colony recovered from
the effects of her financial exhaustion.[267]
The War of the Spanish Succession in Europe had for all practical
purposes ceased, and the echo of it in America was dying away. The
belligerents were weary; the English began to feel the burden of their
National Debt; while the French were utterly exhausted, for in 1709 even
nature had turned against the omnipotent Louis, and the country was
impoverished by a winter which killed the fruits and vines. In 1713
terms were at last agreed to; and the Treaty of Utrecht, the first
really great colonial treaty, was the result. It is idle to speculate on
what enormous gains might have fallen to the English if party spirit and
spite had not cut short the remarkable career of England's great
captain. Had Marlborough been allowed to continue his unbroken series of
triumphant victories, and had he been permitted to select a
commander-in-chief in the West, it is most probable that the Treaty of
Utrecht would have contained those clauses which made the Treaty of
Paris so famous half a century later. As it was, the gains to England in
the colonial world were not to be despised. Acadia was surrendered to
Great Britain, with Hudson Bay and Newfoundland; on the other hand, Cape
Breton Island was restored to France. The great faults of the treaty, as
far as it concerned the Western Hemisphere, lay first in allowing the
French certain fishing rights off the shores of Newfoundland, which
remained until recently "a dangerous cause of quarrel between two great
nations, a perpetual irritating sore, a bar to the progress and
prosperity of the Colony;"[268] and, secondly, it was unwise to restore
Cape Breton to the French, as it was the key to the St Lawrence. A
Frenchman pointed this out in 1745, when he said that "it was necessary
that we should retain a position that would make us at all times masters
of the entrance to the river which leads to New France";[269] and even
in 1713 the French Government realised something of the island's
importance, and reared upon its desolate, fog-bound shore the mighty
fortress of Louisburg, a stronghold that came to be regarded as
impregnable, and second only in importance to that of Quebec.
"An avalanche of defeat and disaster had fallen upon the old age of
Louis XIV.,"[270] and he was forced into a treaty which contained many
humiliations. He must, however, have realised that England had once more
lost her opportunity, and that it was still possible for France to
assert her supremacy in the West. Canada, the goal of the New Englander,
was still New France, and for the next thirty years chronic warfare,
sometimes only flickering, but never extinct, smouldered along the
frontier line of the English and French settlers. The Canadians had the
distinct advantage of knowing what their great object was. It was far
more magnificent than that which filled the minds of the English; it was
perhaps too widely extended, but it was undoubtedly grand--North America
for the Gaul. To the governors of Massachusetts and New York the dream
of the total defeat of the French and their banishment from Canada may
have occasionally appeared; but their general outlook upon the question
was as circumscribed as that of the French was diffuse; and to them the
safety of their colonies, the friendship of the Five Nations, and sound,
steady trade were sufficiently difficult problems for solution.
From the moment of the Treaty of Utrecht Acadia was the source of
quarrels and intrigues which were entirely due to the interference of
French Canadian priests. With these difficulties, however, the Thirteen
Colonies had little or nothing to do, but found ample scope for their
energies in resisting priestly plots elsewhere. The Canadian Government,
owing to the preaching of the Jesuit priest Sebastian Rasle, succeeded
in renewing their alliance with the Abenaki Indians on the New England
frontier, although the chiefs of that tribe had made terms with the
people of Massachusetts in 1717. Rasle was a man of zeal, of sturdy
independent spirit, and fired with intense hatred of the English. The
Massachusetts Government realised the danger of allowing this man, from
his mission-station on the Kennebec River, to urge the Indians to acts
of violence and cruelty. Letters are still preserved which prove that he
was the agent of the Canadian Government, and exciting the Indians for
French purposes. It seems a somewhat cowardly action, but it is evident
that New France, concealing itself beneath the banner of ostensible
peace, was fighting the New Englanders by means of savage allies. To
crush this underhand scheme, in August 1724 a body of men under Captains
Harmon, Moulton, and Brown, rowed up the Kennebec, took the Indian
village, killed the Jesuit Rasle, and burnt the Indian wigwams. This
blow, which was both daring and statesmanlike, had an excellent effect,
and was hailed with joy by the border settlers, who saw in it the end of
their troubles; and after a similar raid by Captain Heath on the tribes
of the Penobscot in 1726, the Indians readily made terms of peace which
lasted for many years.
[Illustration: THE MARQUIS DE MONTCALM. _From a painting by J. B.
Massé._]
The main object of the French in the West, during the first half of the
eighteenth century, was to shut the English settlers in behind the
Alleghanies by means of a series of forts. In spite of the strong
opposition of the Five Nations,[271] the French erected one of the
earliest of these permanent blockhouses at the mouth of the Niagara
River in 1720. The English Colonists saw the danger, but the Legislature
of New York was so mean in matters of finance that it refused any
pecuniary assistance in creating a similar erection at Oswego in 1727.
Governor William Burnet had therefore to find the requisite funds out of
his own pocket; and although the fort proved of vital importance to New
York, he was never fully repaid. In May 1727, Burnet wrote to the Board
of Trade and Plantations, "I have this spring sent up workmen to build a
stone house of strength at a place called Oswego, at the mouth of the
Onondaga River, where our principal trade with the far Nations is
carried on. I have obtained the consent of the Six Nations to build
it."[272] The establishment of this fort was a great blow to the French,
who encouraged the Indians to drive out the English, but only received
the reply, "Chassez-les toi-même."[273] As a counterpoise they built
Fort Rouillé at Toronto, but Oswego remained as a bastion against French
aggression and as a lucrative trading station with the Indians until
captured by Montcalm.[274]
Even earlier than the foundation of Oswego the French had tried to
establish themselves, in 1726, opposite Crown Point, where Lake
Champlain contracts to the width of a river; but for the moment they
were deterred by the strong opposition of Massachusetts. New Hampshire
also claimed this territory, and while, with their usual jealousy, the
two colonies "were quarrelling for the bone, the French ran away with
it."[275] French aggression continued, and in 1731 they seized Crown
Point itself, at the instigation of the celebrated Chevalier Saint Luc
de la Corne, and named it Fort St Frederic. The point was claimed by the
colony of New York, but here again the settlers were too much engrossed
in their chronic dispute with New Jersey to take any effective measures
to prevent the loss. It was utterly futile for the New Yorkers and New
Englanders to protest that the fort was a menace to British territory,
for they had neither the will nor the common-sense to place petty
domestic jealousies on one side and unite in driving back the French.
The English found, by the year 1750, that owing to their supineness,
France had succeeded in building forts at Niagara, Detroit,
Michillimackinac, La Baye, Maumee, on the Wabash, St Joseph and Fort
Chartres. These may have been loose and uncertain links, but they had
great possibilities, and they at least connected Canada and Louisiana,
and gave some appearance of the possibility of a French North America.
It seems strange that the aggressive conduct of one of the newest
kingdoms in Europe should have a dire effect upon the New World; but so
it was. The determination of Frederic of Prussia to aggrandise himself
at the expense of Austria, caused, in 1744, the torch to be rekindled in
North America, and packs of howling savages carried rapine and murder
along the borderland of New France and New England. The war actually
began in America in May 1744 when Duquesnel, the Governor of Louisburg,
overpowered the small outpost of Canso in Acadia. The people of
Massachusetts realised that to them the transference of Acadia to the
French would mean a serious loss, and so planned "an enterprise second
to none in colonial history."[276]
Louisburg was a menace to all the northern British colonies, and the New
Englanders had been both exasperated and alarmed by the action of its
governor. The fortification itself was built upon the famous system of
Vauban; it had cost 30,000,000 livres, and had taken twenty-five years
to complete. Strong as this fortification was from without, owing to
mutinous spirits it contained all the elements of weakness within. The
honour of proposing an attack upon this scourge and curse of New England
probably rests on William Vaughan, who at that period was interested in
the fishing industry and dwelt at Damariscotta, Maine. Governor Shirley
lent a willing ear to the daring proposal. He had, as a young barrister,
come to Massachusetts in 1731, and within ten years had by his tact and
cleverness been appointed chief magistrate of his colony. He laboured
under the delusion that he was a military genius, and thought to prove
his powers by engaging in this scheme. The Massachusetts Assembly,
however, composed for the most part of grave merchants and stolid
rustics, refused to undertake anything so risky and expensive. Boston
and other coast towns, knowing well what a harbour of refuge Louisburg
had proved to all hunters on the ocean, petitioned ardently that
Vaughan's plan should be executed; and at length, after many
difficulties, it was agreed that the settlers should make this one
supreme effort. History immediately repeated itself, and the colonies
showed their habitual want of union; and although Shirley appealed to
them as far south as Pennsylvania, all with one accord made excuse,
except Connecticut, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island. Once again,
therefore, the burden of defeating France fell upon the New England
settlements. William Pepperell, a merchant of Maine, was placed in
command of the colonial land force. He came of Devonshire stock, was a
colonel of militia, and fortunately possessed of good sound
common-sense, for he had practically no military experience. The naval
commander was Admiral Warren, who was well disposed to the American
colonists, as he had married an American lady and owned property on both
Manhattan Island and the banks of the Mohawk River. He was a good
sailor, and in later years won for himself some renown in an engagement
against the French in European waters.
Colonel Pepperell was willingly followed by colonists of sturdy
character, still replete with Puritan ideas, and still further
encouraged by the motto given to them by the Evangelical preacher,
George Whitefield, "Nil desperandum, Christo duce."[277] On April 30,
1745, the New England force arrived within striking distance of
Louisburg. The town itself was oblong in shape, built upon a tongue of
land upon which the fortifications were erected with a due east aspect.
The troops of France were composed for the most part of brave men, but
they were in a state of disaffection, and their new commander,
Duchambon, was pusillanimous in his decisions. The whole garrison,
consisting of regulars and militia, was well under two thousand men;
while the colonial army comprised four thousand in all. This
superiority of force was immediately discounted by the privations
undergone by the besiegers; and it has been computed that only half the
army was really fit for action. The mutinous state of the French was but
a poor match for the peculiar mixture of youthful impetuosity and
religious fervour which stirred the colonials. A force under Vaughan
occupied the Grand Battery, and still further encouragement was given by
Admiral Warren's capture, on May 18, of the _Vigilant_, a French
man-of-war of 64 guns, bringing supplies. One who took part in the siege
writes, "Providence has signally smiled, and I doubt not the campaign
will be crowned with success. I am willing to undergo anything for the
good of our cause."[278] The chief danger which threatened the settlers
was relief from New France, but this came too late to be of any service
to the garrison.
After an unsuccessful attempt against the battery on the little island
at the mouth of the harbour, both Pepperell and Warren agreed that their
best move would be a final assault upon the fortification. The French
dreaded the effects of such an action; they were already worn out by
fatigue and anxiety; the town was shattered in every direction by shot
and shell. "Never," Pepperell wrote to Shirley, "was a place more mal'd
with cannon and shell."[279] Rather than sustain the horrors of a wild
attack which might lead to ruthless massacre, Duchambon thought it
better to accept the generous terms offered, and, on June 17th,
capitulated. The town was taken over by Warren and Pepperell, and all
praise must be given to the latter for the splendid way in which he
preserved discipline amongst his colonials, who were forbidden to reward
themselves, for their weary weeks of hardship, by loot and plunder. The
capture of Louisburg was one of the greatest events of the War of the
Austrian Succession; and historians are agreed that the success of the
enterprise was almost entirely due to the courage and perseverance of
the New Englanders, though they are ready to give all praise to Warren
and his seamen. It was a remarkable feat, and it must ever be regarded
as one of the most illustrious actions in American history. The
Bostonians welcomed the news with joy; their brethren, they believed,
had gone forth against the enemies of the Lord, and, like the Israelites
of old, returned victorious. The grim Puritan had shown that though a
man of peace, he was still able, when called upon, to smite the
idolaters hip and thigh.
Governor Shirley's schemes did not stop short at the capture of the key
of the St Lawrence. After Louisburg had been garrisoned by regular
troops, he intended to attack Canada. This plan failed, and he therefore
turned his attention to the more feasible scheme of capturing Crown
Point; but this also proved abortive. In the meantime the French made a
counter-expedition from La Rochelle under the Duc d'Auville. From the
outset the scheme was doomed: D'Auville died; his second in command,
D'Estournel, committed suicide; while his successor, the Marquis de la
Jonquière, was thoroughly defeated by Admirals Anson and Warren off Cape
Finisterre.
The struggle in which the colonists had shown such gallantry slowly
dragged to a close. Neither to Great Britain, nor to France had there
been much gain in those six years of warfare: the glory belonged to the
men of New England, who, in particular, realised the danger of the
French Empire in the West. They had learnt by experience the peril that
menaced them, and Shirley and Pepperell had done their best to remove
that danger by direct attack. In England the enormous value of Cape
Breton Island and Louisburg was not fully understood. George II. is
traditionally reported to have said that Cape Breton was not his to
return to France for it belonged to the people of Boston. This in a
sense was true; it had been won by the men of New England and it would
appear on the surface that it was for them to keep or restore that
frowning outpost in the Atlantic. Peace, however, was most necessary at
the moment, though it was only a breathing space in the colossal
struggle of the eighteenth century; and it was realised that this peace
could only be obtained by the cession of this fortification in exchange
for our East Indian territory at Madras. The possibility of the growth
of an Indian Empire never dawned upon the settlers in the West. They
felt that this small speck in an Eastern land was nothing in comparison
with the Dunkirk of North America. The New England colonies had done
their best; they had given their men and their money to accomplish a
great task. Their lack of unity had often stood in their way, but on the
occasion of the capture of Louisburg the Puritan brotherhood had
succeeded without the help of either Quaker or southern confederates;
they had earned for themselves the respect of their contemporaries and
the admiration of their descendants. Unfortunately, however, the
abandonment of Louisburg "under the pressure of diplomatic necessity
was in the eyes of the colonists an unscrupulous betrayal, and a
manifest proof of total indifference to colonial interests. It gave a
sting to the words of colonial demagogues and cut the sinews of colonial
loyalty."[280]
FOOTNOTES:
[255] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, vol. i. p. 79.
[256] _Ibid._
[257] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, i. p. 139.
[258] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, i. p. 144.
[259] _Ibid._
[260] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, i. p. 144.
[261] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, vol. i. p. 161.
[262] _Ibid._, p. 157.
[263] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, vol. i. pp. 166, 167.
[264] Walker, _Journal_, Introduction.
[265] Swift, _Journal to Stella_, October 16, 1711.
[266] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, vol. i. p. 169.
[267] _Ibid._, p. 182.
[268] Prowse, _History of Newfoundland_ (1896), p. 258.
[269] Wrong, translator and editor of _Lettre d'un habitant de
Louisburg_, p. 26.
[270] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, vol. i. p. 183.
[271] The Five Nations were sometimes called the Six Nations after being
joined by the Tuscaroras.
[272] O'Callaghan, _Doc. Hist. of New York_, vol. i. p. 447.
[273] Parkman, _Half a Century of Conflict_, vol. ii. p. 54.
[274] See p. 266.
[275] Mitchell, _Contest in America_, p. 22.
[276] Lucas, _Hist. Geo. of Brit. Colonies, Canada_, part i. p. 198.
[277] _Belknap_, vol. ii. p. 160.
[278] Samuel Curwen, _Journal and Letters_, p. 13.
[279] Doyle, _The Colonies under the House of Hanover_ (1907), p. 532.
[280] Doyle, _The Colonies under the House of Hanover_ (1907), p. 534.