MacGillivray, giving his weeping and terrified wife a tender embrace;
"the vaults are your only place of safety. Would to God," he added,
giving her a farewell kiss, "that you were safe at home, laoighe mo
chri, even with the humblest of our cottars in Glenarrow. The
thought of you alone causes my heart to fail, and makes a coward of
me, Mary. Alaster MacGregor, conduct her to the bomb-proofs, and
join us again."
The soldier led her to the vaults in which the whole of the women and
children of the garrison were enclosed for safety from shot and
shell, and where they nestled together in fear and trembling,
preparing lint and bandages for the wounded; and scarcely had Alaster
rejoined his commander, when a red flash and a stream of white smoke
came from the darkening wood, and the first cannon of the French sent
a sixteen-pound shot crashing through the log barracks and slew a
captain of the Royal Americans.
Then a hearty hurrah of defiance rose from the garrison of Munro, and
the fiendish yells and warwhooping of the Iroquois were heard in the
echoing woods.
MacGillivray envied the lightness of heart possessed at this crisis
by his unmarried comrades, who had neither wife nor child to excite
their anxiety, compassion, or fear--men who, careless and soldier
like, seemed to live for the present, without regret for the past or
dread of the future; but such is the life of a soldier, while as we
have it in "Don Juan"--
"Nought so bothers
The hearts of the heroic in a charge,
As leaving a small family at large."
At the head of all the forces he could collect, ten thousand regular
infantry of France, and hordes of the wild Iroquois, Louis de St.
Veran, Marquis of Montcalm, and his second in command, the Baron de
Beauchatel, Chevalier of St. Louis, now invested Fort William Henry,
and pushed the siege with a vigour that was all the greater because
General Webb, with four thousand British troops, was posted at some
distance, for the purpose of protecting Munro's garrison, a duty
about which he did not give himself the smallest concern whatever.
Before daybreak next morning, the French artillery opened heavily on
the turf ramparts, the wooden palisades and log huts of the fort;
while a fire of musketry was maintained upon it from every available
point, and the Indian marksmen, from behind every tree, rock, and
bush, or tuft of sedge-grass that afforded an opportunity for
concealing their dingy forms, shot with deadly precision at the
officers, and all who in any way exposed or signalized themselves.
Munro and his soldiers fought with ardour, and defended themselves
with confidence, never doubting that General Webb would soon advance
to their support, and by a brisk attack in the rear, compel the
marquis to abandon the siege. From their gun-batteries and
stockades, they maintained an unceasing fire, and thus the slaughter
on both sides became desperate and severe.
In the gloomy vault to which the humanity and prudence of Colonel
Munro had consigned the women and children of his garrison, the timid
wife of MacGillivray could hear the roar of musketry, with the
incessant booming of the heavy artillery on every side, and ever and
anon the hiss or crash of the exploding shells. These and other
dreadful sounds paralysed her; for she had but one thought--the
safety of her husband; and appalled by the united horrors of the
siege, she almost forgot to pray, and sat with her arms round the
child of Munro, pale, sad, and silent--awed and bewildered.
Meanwhile Roderick, with his party of the Black Watch, proved
invaluable to Munro. As the dispatch of the latter has it, "Being
all expert marksmen and deadly shots, they manned a line of loopholed
stockades, which faced a wood full of the Iroquois, of whom they slew
an incredible number; for if the foot or hand, or even the scalp lock
of a warrior became visible for a moment to these quicksighted
deer-stalkers from the Highland hills, it revealed where the rest of
his body could be covered by their levelled barrels; thus there were
soon more dead than living warriors in the bush where the braves of
the Five Nations had posted themselves, and the yells and screams of
rage uttered by the survivors in their anticipations of vengeance,
were like nothing one could imagine but the cries of the damned."
Among the savages who swarmed thick as bees upon the skirts of the
forest, MacGillivray repeatedly recognised the ghastly warrior
Ossong, who was painted over with white stripes; and his comrade
Orono, who had so recently made an escape from the fort, and who was
conspicuous alike by his bravery and the tuft of eagle's feathers in
his scalp-lock.
MacGillivray relinquished his claymore for a musket, and, as Munro
said, "Knocked over more Red Indians in an hour, than he could have
done red deer in a week, at home."
On the second day, just as the firing was about to re-commence, a
French officer, bearing a flag of truce, and accompanied by a drummer
beating a parley, appeared before the gates, and was received by
MacGillivray, who conducted him, blindfolded by a handkerchief, to
the presence of Munro. He was a tall and handsome man, about forty
years of age, and wore the white uniform of the Grenadiers of
Guienne, with the order of St. Louis, and had a white flowing peruke,
_à la Louis XV_.
"Your name, monsieur?" said Munro, bowing low.
"The Sieur Fontbrune, Baron of Beauchatel," replied he, bowing to the
diamond buckles at his knees, and then presenting his box of rappee.
"Indeed--the second in command to the Marquis of Montcalm!"
"The same, and Colonel of the Regiment of Guienne."
"We are greatly honoured."
"Nay," responded the courteous French noble, "the honour is mine in
having the privilege of conferring with an officer of such valour as
M. le Colonel Munro."
"And your purpose?" asked the latter, drily.
"The delivery of this letter,"
In presence of the senior officers of his garrison, Munro opened and
read this communication from the French marquis, in which the latter
wrote, that he deemed himself obliged by the common dictates of
humanity to request that M. le Colonel Munro would surrender the
fort, and cease, by a futile resistance, to provoke the savage
Iroquois, who accompanied the French army in such vast and
unmanageable hordes.
"A detachment of your garrison, under Colonel Parker, has lately (he
continued) experienced their cruelty. I have it yet in my power to
restrain and oblige them to observe a capitulation, as comparatively
few of them have been hitherto killed. Your persisting in the
defence of your fort can only retard its fate a few days, and must of
necessity expose an unfortunate garrison, who cannot possibly receive
relief, when we consider the _precautions_ taken to prevent it. I
demand a decisive answer; and for this purpose have sent the Sieur de
Fontbrune, one of my staff. You may implicitly credit all that he
tells you.
"MONTCALM."
"I will never surrender while we have a shot left," exclaimed Munro,
furiously. "What say you, gentlemen?"
"That we and our soldiers will stand by you, Colonel, to the last
gasp!" replied Captain Dacres.
"This, then, is your decision, messieurs?" said M. Beauchatel,
playing with the ringlets of his peruke.
"It is--it is," was the answer on all hands.
"A most unwise one, permit me to say," urged the baron.
"To yield when General Webb is within less than one day's march of
us, would be a treason to the King and a disgrace to ourselves."
The French baron smiled with provoking coolness, and said,
"General Webb beholds our preparations and approaches with an
apparent indifference that originates either in infamous cowardice or
miserable infatuation. In short, M. le Colonel, he has abandoned
you."
"M. le Baron," replied Munro, with some heat, "General Webb is a
British officer, and I have no doubt will fully maintain his
reputation. If he has not already advanced to raise the siege, he
must deem it better for the King's service to remain in position
where he is; but, ere long, you will hear his cannon opening on your
rear."
"Pardieu, you delude yourself."
"I do not, M. le Baron, and you may inform the Marquis de Montcalm,
that he had better have continued to amuse himself with mounting
guard at Versailles and Marli, than by beating up our quarters here
on the Canadian lakes."
"Oh, he and I have mounted guard at Mons and Tournay, at Lisle and
Fontenoy, Colonel, where men don't play at soldiers, as here in
America," replied the Frenchman, smiling; "but adieu, mon ami--adieu."
"Farewell--MacGillivray, conduct M. le Baron beyond the gates."
So ended this parley, and in less than five minutes the din of cannon
and musketry, with the warwhoop of the Indians, again rang along the
echoing shores of the Horican, and once more the white smoke shrouded
alike the defences and defenders of Fort William Henry.
The Baron de Beauchatel led the Regiment of Guienne close up to the
stockades, which were lined by the fifty Highlanders of the Black
Watch, and though exposed to a withering fire, he bravely and
furiously strove to destroy the barrier by axes and sledge hammers.
MacGillivray thrice covered the Baron with his deadly aim; but,
inspired by some mysterious emotion, the origin of which at that time
he could not fathom, he spared him and levelled his weapon at others.
Filled with rage by the resistance they experienced, the soldiers of
the Regiment of Guienne encouraged each other by shouts of
"Vive le Roi! Tue--tue les sauvages d'Ecosse! à la baionette! à la
baionette!"
They soon fell into confusion; but the brave Beauchatel continued to
brandish his sword and shout the _mot de ralliement_ of his corps,
for it was then usual in the French service to have a war-cry or
regimental rallying-word.
"Notre Dame! Notre Dame de frappemort!" (Our holy Lady, who strikes
home!) he was heard crying again and again; for the Virgin was the
patroness of the Grenadiers of Guienne; but neither the spell of her
name nor the fiery spirit of Beauchatel enabled the soldiers to
withstand the fire of the Highlanders, whose position was
impregnable; and on Captain Dacres' company of the 60th opening a
flank fusilade upon them, they were swept back into the forest,
leaving a mound of white-coated killed and wounded before the
stockades they had so valiantly attempted to destroy.
Alaster MacGregor received a wound from a French soldier, who, on
finding himself dying, crawled on his hands and knees close up to the
stockade, and, with the last effort of expiring nature, fired his
musket through a loophole and fell back dead.
"A brave fellow!" exclaimed MacGillivray.
"Yes," added Alaster, as the blood dripped from his left cheek: "but
I wish he had departed this life five minutes sooner."
A third and fourth day of conflict passed away, and the loss by
killed and wounded became severe in Fort William Henry; five hundred
dead men were already lying within the narrow compass of its
batteries; but still there was no sign of Webb's brigade advancing to
the rescue. Munro began to have serious doubts of the issue, with
secret regrets that he had not accepted the first offers of the
Marquis de Montcalm, for the blood of the Iroquois was now at boiling
heat, in their longing to revenge the fall of so many of their
braves, who, notwithstanding all their caution and cunning, had
perished under the deadly aim of the Highland marksmen, and lay in
dusky piles among the long wavy sedge grass and luxuriant foliage of
the forest; but though he confined these thoughts to his own breast,
his garrison began to have the same misgivings.
One day, telescope in hand, he was eagerly sweeping the distant
landscape in the direction where it was known that General Webb was
posted, when Dacres, of his own regiment, approached him. Not a
bayonet or musket-barrel were seen to glitter, or a standard to wave
in the hazy distance in token of coming aid, and he sharply closed
the glass with a sigh and turned away; so Dacres addressed him.
"When smoking a pipe in the bomb-proofs this morning--by the bye, my
dear colonel, I am always thoughtful during that operation--it
occurred to me that General Webb----"
"Well, sir--well," said Munro, irritably.
"Remains very long in position without advancing to our relief."
"I am too well aware of that, sir."
"But what does such conduct mean?"
"God and himself alone know," replied Munro, while his keen grey eye
flashed with passion; "he would seem to be in league with the enemy
against us; ay, in league with Montcalm, and the words of Beauchatel
seemed to infer some previous knowledge of his intentions, and hence
perhaps the friendly warning about the Indians; but we have cast the
die with them. If in the course of one day more Webb comes not to
our aid----"
"By Heaven, I will pistol him with my own hand; that is, if I survive
this affair!" exclaimed MacGillivray, who joined them.
"Nay, sir," replied the colonel, "I shall claim that task, if task it
be; but hark! there is a salvo."
A tremendous shock now shook the fort, as a camarade battery of ten
32-pounders commenced a discharge against it, and showers of
destructive bombbelles from small mortars were poured into the heart
of the place. Many of these little engines of destruction bounded
from the shingle roofs of the barracks and burst in the waters of the
lake; others were exploding in all directions, with a sound like the
roar of artillery, forcing the soldiers, who crept and cowered in
rear of the parapets and palisades, to lie close, while the heavy
_hum_ of the round shot, with that peculiar sound which terminates
its course by piercing the ground, or crashing through a building,
and the sharper _whish_ of the musket-balls, filled up all the
intervals by noises fraught with alarm. The barracks and storehouses
were soon unroofed and ruined, for the camarade battery proved very
destructive; the stockades were soon swept away in showers of white
splinters before its discharges, which resembled nothing but a
whirlwind of shot and shell, while vast masses of the earthen works
were also torn down, leaving the defenders exposed to the deadly
rifles of the lurking Indians. The cannon of Munro were alike
defective and dangerous to his soldiers; for two 18-pounders, two
32-pounders, and two 9-pounders burst in succession, destroying all
who were near them, and at last the colonel received intimation that
only seventeen bombs remained in the magazine.
On the _sixth_ day, there was still no appearance of General Daniel
Webb (who was Colonel of the 48th, or Northamptonshire Foot), though
his column was within hearing of the firing, being at Fort Edward,
which was only six miles distant; and now the spirit of the garrison
began to sink; but in that dejected band there was no heart more
heavy than MacGillivray's, for the condition of his wife at such a
terrible crisis filled him with the deepest anxiety and the most
tender solicitude.
At last Munro, finding the futility of further resisting forces so
overwhelming, and that all hope of succour from Webb was hopeless, on
the 9th day of August, 1757, lowered his standard, and sent forth
MacGillivray to the French camp, bearer of a flag of truce, to confer
on the terms of a surrender.
Immediately on leaving the gates, he was received by the Baron de
Beauchatel and a party of the Grenadiers of Guienne, who surrounded
him with fixed bayonets, as a protection from the infuriated
Iroquois, who crowded near in naked hordes, leaping, dancing,
screaming like incarnate fiends, and brandishing their tomahawks,
seeking only an opening in the close files of the French escort to
slay, scalp, and hew him to pieces. Thus he was conducted to the
tent of Louis Marquis de Montcalm de St. Veran, Maréchal du Camp, and
Lieutenant-General of the Armies of His Most Christian Majesty in
America. Before the tent were posted the colours of the Regiments of
Bearn and Languedoc, and around it were a guard of grenadiers in
white coats, with the long periwigs and smart little triangular hats
of the French line. These received the flag of truce with presented
arms, while the drums beat a march.
Montcalm, then in his forty-fifth year, came forth, and, presenting
his hand to MacGillivray, conducted him within. Then followed
several officers of the staff whom, with M. de Beauchatel, he had
invited to the conference.
"You perceive, now," said the baron, "that I proved a true prophet!"
"In what manner, monsieur?" asked MacGillivray.
"When I affirmed that M. le Général Webb would leave Munro to his own
resources. Ma foi! but he is a brave fellow, Munro."
"M. le Marquis," said MacGillivray, with an air of hauteur, "I am
here to stipulate that our garrison shall be permitted to march out
with their arms----"
"Unloaded----"
"Be it so; but as Christian men you cannot refuse us arms in a land
so wild as this; the officers to have their baggage, and the men
their kits; that a detachment of French troops shall escort us to
within two miles of the gates of Fort Edward, and that your
interpreter attached to the savages will make this treaty known to
the Iroquois."
"I gladly agree to these conditions," replied Montcalm, "though I
fear the _latter portion_ will be achieved with difficulty; for the
comprehension of these Red Iroquois is not very clear, and they will
despise me for burying the war-hatchet and smoking the pipe of peace,
for permitting you to depart with your scalps on, and so forth; but
they must be forced to understand and observe our treaty. For the
space of eighteen months every officer and soldier now in Fort
William Henry must not bear arms against the Most Christian King. M.
le Colonel Munro must give me hostages for the safe return of my
troops who are to form your escort; and say to him, that in testimony
of my esteem for his valour and spirit as a soldier, I shall present
him with one cannon, a 6-pounder, to be delivered at the moment the
grenadiers of my own regiment receive the gates of the fort, and his
troops are ready to depart."
"Our wounded and sick, of whom we have many----"
"I shall send under guard to General Webb at Fort Edward."
"Thanks, marquis."
The terms were soon drawn up and signed by the staff officers of both
forces; by Munro in the name of the British Commander-in-Chief, and
by Montcalm in the name of the Marquis de Vaudreuil,
Governor-General, and Lieutenant-General of New France; and after
ably concluding this negotiation, so important for his comrades,
MacGillivray returned to the fort just as the red round moon began to
rise like a bloody targe above the eastern skirts of the forest, and
to tinge with its quivering rays the placid waters of Lake George.
The first who received him at the gate was his "dear wee Mary," as he
called her, trembling and in tears for his safety. During the whole
time of his visit to the camp of Montcalm, the yelling and whooping
of the Indians had filled the fort and the woods with horrid sounds.
The next day passed before Munro had all prepared to leave the
shattered ramparts he had defended so well.
It was on a gorgeous August evening when his war-worn and weary
garrison paraded, prior to their final departure. The western
clouds, as they floated across the sky, were tinged with violet and
saffron hues. The forest and the grass wore their most brilliant
green, and Lake George its deepest blue. The large golden
butter-cups that spotted all the verdant glacis of the ramparts,
within which so many brave men were lying stark and stiffened in
their blood, and the bright-coloured wildflowers that grew amid the
waters of the fosse and by the margin of the lake which filled it,
were unclosing their petals, to catch the coming dew, and wore their
gayest tints.
The whole aspect of the scenery, and of the soft balmy evening, were
little in accordance with the horrors that were passed, and those
which were soon to ensue!
Already the grenadiers of Montcalm, with all the formality of
friends, had received the gates and various posts from the guards of
the Royal Americans; the white banner of France, under a royal
salute, had replaced the Union Jack, and at that moment sharply beat
the drums, as the garrison began to march out, with their _unloaded_
muskets slung and their colours cased--the Royal Americans, Parker's
Foot, and the little band of our old friends, the Black Watch (now
less by sixteen men than on the day of their arrival), with the piper
and MacGillivray at their head, defiling from the fort in close
column of subdivisions, while the French escort was under arms to
receive them in line by a general salute, with drummers beating on
the flanks.
A faint cheer was heard within the fort. It came from the log huts
where the wounded lay. They, poor fellows! were left to the care of
the enemy, together with the unburied bodies of those who would never
hear a sound again until the last trumpet shakes the earth with its
peal.
The veteran Colonel Munro, tall and erect, with his quaint
Kevenhuller hat and old-fashioned wig of the days of Malplacquet,
marched at the head of his crestfallen column; he was on foot, with
his sword drawn, and led by the hand the child, his son, as being the
only object he cared about preserving in that hour of bitterness and
defeat.
Seated on the tumbril of the 6-pounder, with two other ladies (one of
whom had lost her husband in the siege), was the wife of
MacGillivray, awe-stricken and all unused to such stern and stirring
scenes as she had daily witnessed in Fort William Henry. Her
_marriage brooch_, almost the only ornament she possessed, she had
concealed in the folds or tresses of her long black hair, lest it
should excite the cupidity of any French soldier or Indian, for she
had an equal dread, and nearly an equal repugnance for them both.
A slender escort of French soldiers with their bayonets fixed
protected Munro's garrison on both flanks; but as they proceeded into
the forest, the savages continued to assemble in dark hordes, till
their numbers, their gestures, and yells of rage became seriously
alarming. They were animated by the blindest frenzy on finding
themselves deluded of their plunder and the blood--the red reeking
scalps of the hated Yengees--by a treaty which they could not and
cared not to understand. They were rehearsing to each other the
bravery and worth, the names and number of their warriors who had
perished, and all continued to scream and shout, but none cared to
begin the work of destruction while so near the tents of the pale
faces of France.
"Push on--push on, for God's sake, gentlemen and comrades!"
"Forward, my friends--let us lose no time in reaching Fort Edward."
"Step out, comrades--step out, you fellows in front."
"Throw off your knapsacks--let these greedy hounds have them."
"Better lose an old kit than a young life."
"On, on--push on, boys!"
Such were the cries that were heard along the column as the rear
urged on the front, and the dark yelling hordes of the infernal
Iroquois blackened all the woods and grew denser and closer, until at
last they insolently jostled and crushed the French guard among the
impeded ranks of those they were escorting.
"This is intolerable--let us attack those dogs," said MacGillivray.
"Beware--beware!" exclaimed Munro; "if once blood be shed or the
warwhoop raised, all will be over with us."
The leader of this hostile display was the savage whom we have
already introduced as Ossong. A Lenni Lennape, he was almost the
last of his ferocious tribe, which, with the Miami, had been
conquered and exterminated by the Iroquois, with whom he had now
completely identified himself. His aspect was frightful! His
forehead was low; with a short nose of great breadth; his ears were
huge, and set high upon his head; his mouth was large, with teeth
sharp and serrated like those of some voracious fish. His mantle of
woven grass was trimmed with scores of human scalp-locks salted and
dried, while rows of human teeth intermingled with glass beads and
gilt regimental buttons and British coins (the relics of Colonel
Parker's force) covered all his brown expansive chest. On his brawny
shoulders hung the skin of a black bear; in front, he wore the fur of
a racoon; his girdle, moccassins, and arms were ornamented with
brilliant wampum beads, which rattled as he walked, and he brandished
alternately a rifle, a tomahawk, and scalping-knife.