ON A DANGEROUS MISSION
TO understand fully the importance of the news brought to Sir William
Johnson by Blue Crow we shall have to go back a little and see what the
English and Colonial soldiers were trying to do in this campaign of 1759
against the French.
Encouraged by the success at Fort Pitt and at other points, the king and
the military leaders of the English had decided on a campaign which
should strike at the French in three different places. General Prideaux
and Sir William Johnson were to advance on Oswego and Fort Niagara,
General Amherst was to push his way northward through the Lake Champlain
territory, and General Wolfe was to sail from England with an army of
eight thousand troops and move up the St. Lawrence River upon Quebec. As
soon as the success of General Prideaux and of General Amherst was
assured, these two branches of the English forces were to join Wolfe in
his attack on the French stronghold.
As we have already seen, the attack on Fort Niagara was a brilliant
success. But the advance of Amherst proved difficult. The French fled
slowly before him, doing all they could to hinder his progress, and a
succession of storms on the lake caused him a heavy loss of ships and
stores. Some of his troops, the New Hampshire Rangers under Major
Rogers, went as far as the village of St. Francis, which they destroyed,
thus saving that part of New England from further trouble on the
frontier, but with the coming of winter Amherst was compelled to go into
winter quarters at Crown Point.
In the meantime, General Wolfe, on board the English fleet, reached the
Canadian shore in June. News of his coming had already spread among the
French, and it was felt that his attack would be directed against
Quebec.
“We must save our beloved city, no matter what the cost!” was the cry
throughout Canada; and to Quebec flocked both the regular French troops
and also the French colonists, to the number of many thousands. All of
these soldiers were placed under the command of General Montcalm, a wise
and good soldier and one known for his thorough bravery.
As most of my young readers know, Quebec is located on a high bluff,
overlooking the St. Lawrence. This bluff, or series of bluffs, extends
along the river front for miles, making the task of reaching the city
from the water a difficult one. But Montcalm was not to be caught
napping, and he lost no time in fortifying the bluffs all the way from
Quebec proper down the river to the Falls of Montmorenci, a distance of
about five miles.
It was no easy task for the British fleet to sail up the St. Lawrence,
which was difficult of navigation because of the many hidden rocks and
shoals, but at length they reached the Island of Orleans, just below the
city, and after a short brush with the inhabitants, who soon fled, the
army took possession.
Early on the following morning General Wolfe went to the edge of the
island and took a survey of the situation.
“It will be no easy matter to capture Quebec,” said one of his
subordinates. “’Tis a regular Gibraltar.”
“It must be done,” answered Wolfe quietly.
He well understood the difficulty of the task before him. To scale those
frowning walls would be hard, especially in the face of the French
batteries, and back of the city were the still higher hills of Cape
Diamond, also well fortified. All along the rocky shore could be seen
the frowning cannon of Montcalm.
“General Wolfe must wait for help from Amherst and Prideaux,” was the
comment of more than one old soldier, but Wolfe was resolved not to wait
too long, fearing Montcalm would also be re-enforced, and that his own
supplies would run short.
To destroy the English ships, Montcalm sent out a number of fire-boats,
filled to the gunwales and rails with pitch, tar, and explosives. These
made a brilliant illumination, but failed to do much damage.
Advancing from the Island of Orleans, General Wolfe captured Point Levi,
where the town of Levis now stands. This was directly opposite Quebec,
and from this point he was able to bombard the city, only about a mile
away. This new movement of the English caused great alarm in Quebec, and
plans for an immediate attack on Wolfe were begun by the armed
townspeople, some Indians, and a number of young men from the Seminary.
The attack was to be made on the 12th of July, but as the motley
collection of French and Indians drew close to the English camp in the
darkness there was a sudden alarm, some of the crowd fired on their own
friends, and then followed a panic, and all rushed back to the canoes
which had brought them over, and made haste to paddle back to Quebec.
For this attack Wolfe made the French pay dearly. His cannon were
trained on the water front before Quebec and on parts of the city
itself, and inside of twenty-four hours a Cathedral and eighteen houses
were burnt or wrecked by shot and shell. Mad with terror, the
inhabitants fled to the back country, and sent word to Montcalm
imploring the general to save them.
But it was not Wolfe’s intention to waste his ammunition by merely
battering down the buildings of Quebec. He wished to capture the
stronghold, and as it seemed to offer no chance at the front he resolved
to move down the river once again, make a landing below the Falls of
Montmorenci, and try to find his way around to the enemy’s rear.
The Montmorenci River is a wild and turbulent stream, flowing at the
bottom of a deep gorge and leaping into the St. Lawrence over a cataract
two hundred and more feet in height. On each side of the gorge was a
dense forest, so a camp was made along the stream without molestation
from the French soldiers, who lay concealed in the woods on the opposite
side of the cataract.
General Levis was in command of the French detachment on guard at the
Montmorenci. He wished to dislodge Wolfe at once, but was overruled by
Vaudreuil, the French governor-general. Nevertheless some French Indians
crossed at a hidden ford and drove back some of the English troops, from
which they took thirty-six scalps.
There now ensued a number of small skirmishes in which the honors were
about evenly divided. Some of the English troops landed above Quebec and
gained a foothold, and there was a constant cannonading from both sides
which did but little damage. Montcalm refused to move, and Wolfe at last
decided to make a bold attack, both by the ford of the Montmorenci and
by the river shore, where the receding tide at times left a long stretch
of mud flats.
This was on the last day of July, just one week after the fall of Fort
Niagara. The day promised fair, but in the afternoon there was a heavy
downpour of rain, which wet the ammunition of the soldiers and made
marching in the mud next to impossible. The English troops fought
desperately, but were beaten back by the French batteries, and soon saw
that to climb the slippery slopes before them would be impossible.
“We can’t make it,” said more than one, and reluctantly Wolfe had the
retreat sounded, and the English withdrew, with a loss to the grenadiers
and the Colonials of over four hundred killed and wounded.
It was a bitter blow, but how bitter the colonists at large did not know
until some time later, for in those days there was neither telegraph nor
train to carry the news. Among the Indians in the fight was Blue Crow,
and he and his companion, Yellow Nose, were at once dispatched to Fort
Niagara to tell General Prideaux of what had occurred and to learn when
the force along Lake Ontario might be expected to move down the St.
Lawrence.
The news received by Sir William Johnson was short and unsatisfactory,
and both the bodies of the dead Indians and their canoe were searched
for a possible written message, but without success. Sir William was
much disturbed, for some instructions which had been forwarded to
General Prideaux by General Amherst were also missing, and he scarcely
knew how to turn next. General Gage, he knew, was coming to take command
in his stead, but in the meanwhile time of great value might be lost.
“I will send out some spies toward Oswego,” he said, to several of his
fellow officers. “If they are not stopped they can move on as far as the
St. Lawrence. Perhaps they can bring in the news I wish.”
In the course of a talk with Dave and Henry regarding the manner in
which the dead Indians had first been discovered, the commander
mentioned that he wished to send out the spies, and Henry at once begged
that he be allowed to go along.
“I take a deep interest, sir,” he said respectfully. “And I would
consider it an honor to serve you in that way.”
“And so would I consider it an honor,” added Dave.
“Perhaps but it is likewise a risk, my lads,” answered the Indian
Superintendent.
“We are used to taking risks,” went on Henry. “Both of us are fair shots
and have been serving in the field ever since the war began.”
“I will think it over,” said Sir William. “One thing is in your favor—a
youth can sometimes get through where a man is suspected and halted and
very often shot down.”
“We should expect the same treatment that older men get,” answered Dave
grimly.
Late that evening a party of six was made up, composed of a sharpshooter
named Silvers, who was the leader, three backwoodsmen named Raymond,
Gilfoy, and Shamer, and the two young soldiers. Silvers was given minute
instructions as to what he must do, and was told to impart these
instructions to the others after Fort Niagara was left behind. They were
told to move forward at early dawn, and all spent two hours in getting
ready for the trip, which they knew would be full of peril.
“It’s a big load on your shoulders,” said Shamer to the youths. He was a
Dutch pioneer and had known them ever since they had joined the troops
under Prideaux. “Maybe you don’t know the risk you are taking.”
“No larger on our shoulders than on yours,” laughed Dave.
“There may be French and Indian spies all around this lake,” went on
Shamer.
“Why do you go?” demanded Henry.
“Me? Oh, I like the excitement.”
“Well, I reckon we like the excitement too,” said Dave; and then there
was a short laugh, for nobody fully realized the great peril that the
future held in store for them.
It was hardly four o’clock in the morning when Silvers came around and
awakened the others, who had gone into a little camp of them own down by
the lake front.
“No time to be lost,” he said. “We’ll get breakfast just as quick as we
can.” And the meal was disposed of in short order.
It had been decided that the six should move down the lake in two small
rowboats, each carrying its share of the stores taken along. Everybody
was to take his turn at rowing, and the boats were to move along in the
dark as well as during the daytime. By this means it was hoped that the
distance, about a hundred and thirty miles, would be covered in less
than three days.
“All ready?” asked Silvers, when the dishes were put away.
“All ready,” was the answer, from one and another. Then they entered the
two rowboats, took up the oars, and before the morning sun shone over
the surface of the placid lake the journey down the broad sheet of water
was begun.
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