regarded the aborigines if in no other respect, not only fomented the
deadly enmity of the Iroquois for the Canadians, but tried to detach the
Abenaquis from their alliance with the French, but without effect in their
case; for this people honored the countrymen of the missionaries who had
made the Gospel known to them, and their nation became a living barrier
to New France on that side, which no force sent from New England could
surmount; insomuch that the Abenaquis, some time afterward, having crossed
the borders of the English possessions, and harassed the remoter colonists,
the latter were fain to apply to the Iroquois to enable them to hold their
own.
The declaration of Andros, and the armings of the Iroquois, now let loose
on many parts of Canada, gave rise to a project as politic, perhaps, as it
was daring, and such as communities when in extremity have adopted with
good effect; namely, to divert invasion by directly attacking the enemies'
neighboring territories. The Chevalier de Callières, with whom the idea
originated, after having suggested to Denonville a plan for making a
conquest of the province of New York, set out for France, to bring it under
the consideration of the home government, believing that it was the only
means left to save Canada to the mother-country.
It was high time, indeed, that the destinies of Canada were confided to
other directors than the late and present ones, left as the colony had
been, since the departure of M. de Frontenac, in the hands of superannuated
or incapable chiefs. Any longer persistency in the policy of its two most
recent governors might have irreparably compromised the future existence
of the colony. But worse evils were in store for the latter days of the
Denonville administration; a period which, take it altogether, was one of
the most calamitous which our forefathers passed through.
At the time we have now reached in this history an unexpected as well as
unwonted calm pervaded the country, yet the Governor had been positively
informed that a desolating inroad by the collective Iroquois had been
arranged, and that its advent was imminent; but as no precursive signs of
it appeared anywhere to the general eyes, it was hoped that the storm, said
to be ready to burst, might yet be evaded. None being able to account for
the seeming inaction of the Iroquois, the Governor applied to the Jesuits
for their opinion on the subject. The latter expressed their belief that
those who had brought intelligence of the evil intention of the
confederacy had been misinformed as to facts, or else exaggerated sinister
probabilities. The prevailing calm was therefore dangerous as well as
deceitful, for it tended to slacken preparations which ought to have been
made to lessen the apprehensions of coming events which threw no shadow
before.
The winter and the spring of the year 1688-1689 had been passed in an
unusually tranquil manner, and the summer was pretty well advanced when the
storm, long pent up, suddenly fell on the beautiful island of Montreal, the
garden of Canada. During the night of August 5th, amid a storm of hail and
rain, fourteen hundred Iroquois traversed Lake St. Louis, and disembarked
silently on the upper strand of that island. Before daybreak next morning
the invaders had taken their station at Lachine in platoons around every
considerable house within a radius of several leagues. The inmates were
buried in sleep--soon to be the dreamless sleep that knows no waking, for
too many of them.
The Iroquois wait only for the signal from their leaders to fall on. It is
given. In short space the doors and the windows of the dwellings are
driven in; the sleepers dragged from their beds; men, women, children all
struggling in the hands of their butchers. Such houses as the savages
cannot force their way into, they fire; and as the flames reach the persons
of those within, intolerable pain drives them forth to meet death beyond
the threshold, from beings who know no pity. The more fiendish murderers
even forced parents to throw their children into the flames. Two hundred
persons were burned alive; others died under prolonged tortures. Many were
reserved to perish similarly, at a future time. The fair island upon which
the sun shone brightly erewhile, was lighted up by fires of woe; houses,
plantations, and crops were reduced to ashes, while the ground reeked with
blood up to a line a short league apart from Montreal city. The ravagers
crossed to the opposite shore, the desolation behind them being complete,
and forthwith the parish of Le Chenaie was wasted by fire and many of its
people massacred.
The colonists for many leagues around the devoted region seem to have been
actually paralyzed by the brain-blow thus dealt their compatriots by the
relentless savages, as no one seems to have moved a step to arrest their
course; for they were left in undisturbed possession of the country
during several weeks. On hearing of the invasion, Denonville lost his
self-possession altogether. When numbers of the colonists, recovering from
their stupor, came up armed desiring to be led against the murderers of
their countrymen, he sent them back or forbade them to stir! Several
opportunities presented themselves for disposing of parties of the
barbarians, when reckless from drink after their orgies, or when roving
about in scattered parties feeble in number; but the Governor-general's
positive orders to refrain from attacking them withheld the uplifted hand
from striking.
In face of a prohibition so authoritative, the soldiers and the inhabitants
alike could only look on and wait till the savages should find it
convenient to retire. Some small skirmishing, indeed, there was at a few
distant points between the people and their invaders. Thus a party of men,
partly French and partly natives, led by Larobeyre, an ex-lieutenant, on
the way to reënforce Fort Roland, where Chevalier de Vaudreuil commanded,
were set upon and all killed or dispersed. More than half of the prisoners
taken were burned by their conquerors. Larobeyre, being wounded and not
able to fire, was led captive by the Iroquois to their country, and roasted
at a slow fire in presence of the assembled tribe of his captors. Meantime
the resistance to the barbarians being little or none in the regions they
overran, they slew most of the inhabitants they met in their passage; while
their course was marked, wherever they went, by lines of flame.
Their bands moved rapidly from one devoted tract to another; yet wherever
they had to face concerted resistance--which in some cases, at least, put a
fitting obstacle in the way of their intended ravagings--they turned aside
and sought an easier prey elsewhere. In brief, during ten entire weeks or
more, did they wreak their wrath, almost unchecked, upon the fairest region
of Canada, and did not retire thence till about mid-October.
The Governor-General having sent a party of observation to assure himself
of the enemy having decamped, this detachment observed a canoe on the Lake
of the Two Mountains, bearing twenty-two of the retiring Iroquois. The
Canadians, who were of about the same number, embarked in two boats and,
nearing the savages, coolly received their fire; but in returning the
discharge, each singled out his man, when eighteen of the Iroquois were at
once laid low.
However difficult it may have been to put the people of a partially cleared
country, surrounded with forests, on their guard against such an irruption
as the foregoing, it is difficult to account for their total unpreparedness
without imputing serious blame to Denonville and his subalterns in office.
That he exercised no proper influence, in the first place, was evident, and
the small use he made of the means he had at his disposal when the crisis
arrived was really something to marvel at. He was plainly unequal to the
occasion, and his incapacity in every particular made it quite impossible
for his presence, as chief of the colony, to be endured any longer. There
is little doubt that had he not been soon recalled by royal order, the
colonists themselves would have set him aside. The latter season of his
inglorious administration took the lugubrious name "the Year of the
Massacre."[1]
[Footnote 1: The Five Nations, being at war with the French, made a sudden
descent on Montreal, burned and sacked the town, killed one hundred of the
inhabitants, carrying away a number of prisoners whom they burned alive,
and then returned to their own country with the loss of only a few of their
number. Had the English followed up the success of their allies, all Canada
might have been easily conquered.--ED.]
The man appointed through a happy inspiration to supersede M. de Denonville
had now reached the Lower Canadian waters. He was no other than the Count
de Frontenac. It appears that the King, willing to cover, with a handsome
pretext, the recall of Denonville, in a letter dated May 31st, advertised
him that, war having been rekindled in Europe, his military talents would
be of the greatest use in home service. By this time De Frontenac was
called to give counsel regarding the projects of the Chevalier de
Callières, and assist in preparing the way for their realization if
considered feasible. Meanwhile he undertook to resume his duties as
governor-general of New France; but a series of events delayed his arrival
in Canada till the autumn of 1689.
He landed at Québec on October 18th, at 8 P.M., accompanied by De
Callières, amid the heartiest demonstrations of popular welcome. The public
functionaries and armed citizens in waiting, with torch-bearers, escorted
him through the city, which was spontaneously illuminated, to his quarters.
His return was hailed by all, but by none more than the Jesuits, who had,
in fact for years before, labored to obtain his recall. The nobles, the
merchants, the business class, gave him so hearty a reception as to
convince him that real talent such as his must in the end rise superior
to all the conjoined efforts of faction, public prejudices, and the evil
passions of inferior minds.
War was declared against Britain in the month of June. M. de Frontenac,
on resuming the reins of government, had to contend both against the
Anglo-American colonies and the Five Nations. His energy and skill,
however, overcame all obstacles; the war was most glorious for the
Canadians, so few in number compared with their adversaries; and far from
succumbing to their enemies, they carried the war into the adversaries'
camp and struck at the heart of their most remote possessions.
%SIEGE OF LONDONDERRY AND BATTLE OF THE BOYNE%
A.D. 1689-1690
TOBIAS G. SMOLLETT
Londonderry, capital of the county of the same name in Ireland, is a city
of historic celebrity by reason of the successful defence there made
(April-August, 1689) by the Irish Protestants against the besieging forces
of James II. The battle of the Boyne (July 1, 1690) is of less importance
in a military sense than for the reason that it virtually ended the war
which James II carried into Ireland in his unsuccessful attempt to regain
his throne from William and Mary. On account of this result, and still more
by reason of the hereditary antagonisms which have so long survived it,
this battle still retains a peculiar fame in history.
In Ireland, where the Roman Catholics were numerous, there was strong
opposition to the government of William and Mary. The fugitive James II had
supporters who controlled the Irish army. Some resistance was made by the
English and Scotch colonists in Ireland, but little head was made against
the Catholic party, which supported James, until William entered the
country with his forces.
In the following narrative Smollett speaks of an "intended massacre" of the
Protestants at Londonderry. The people of that city were of Anglo-Saxon
blood. Although belonging to various Protestant churches, they were united
in their hostility to the Irish and to the Catholic faith. They were
alarmed at the close of 1688 by rumors of a plan for their own extirpation
by the papists. News of the approach of the Earl of Antrim with a regiment,
under orders from the Lord Deputy, filled the city with consternation. What
followed there is graphically told in the words of the historian. A better
account of a military action than that which Smollett gives of the Battle
of the Boyne it would be hard to find.
On the first alarm of an intended massacre, the Protestants of Londonderry
had shut their gates against the regiment commanded by the Earl of Antrim,
and resolved to defend themselves against the Lord Deputy; they transmitted
this resolution to the Government of England, together with an account of
the danger they incurred by such a vigorous measure, and implored immediate
assistance; they were accordingly supplied with some arms and ammunition,
but did not receive any considerable reënforcement till the middle of
April, when two regiments arrived at Loughfoyl under the command of
Cunningham and Richards.
By this time King James had taken Coleraine, invested Kilmore, and was
almost in sight of Londonderry. George Walker, rector of Donaghmore, who
had raised a regiment for the defence of the Protestants, conveyed this
intelligence to Lundy, the governor; this officer directed him to join
Colonel Crafton, and take post at the Longcausey, which he maintained
a whole night against the advanced guard of the enemy, until, being
overpowered by numbers, he retreated to Londonderry and exhorted the
governor to take the field, as the army of King James was not yet
completely formed. Lundy assembling a council of war, at which Cunningham
and Richards assisted, they agreed that as the place was not tenable,
it would be imprudent to land the two regiments; and that the principal
officers should withdraw themselves from Londonderry, the inhabitants of
which would obtain the more favorable capitulation in consequence of their
retreat; an officer was immediately despatched to King James with proposals
of a negotiation; and Lieutenant-general Hamilton agreed that the army
should halt at the distance of four miles from the town.
Notwithstanding this preliminary, James advanced at the head of his troops,
but met with such a warm reception from the besieged that he was fain to
retire to St. John's Town in some disorder. The inhabitants and soldiers in
garrison at Londonderry were so incensed at the members of the council of
war who had resolved to abandon the place that they threatened immediate
vengeance. Cunningham and Richards retired to their ships, and Lundy locked
himself in his chamber. In vain did Walker and Major Baker exhort him
to maintain his government; such was his cowardice or treachery that he
absolutely refused to be concerned in the defence of the place, and he was
suffered to escape in disguise, with a load of matches on his back; but he
was afterward apprehended in Scotland, from whence he was sent to London to
answer for his perfidy or misconduct.
After his retreat the townsmen chose Mr. Walker and Major Baker for their
governors with joint authority; but this office they would not undertake
until it had been offered to Colonel Cunningham, as the officer next in
command to Lundy; he rejected the proposal, and with Richards returned to
England, where they were immediately cashiered. The two new governors, thus
abandoned to their fate, began to prepare for a vigorous defence: indeed
their courage seems to have transcended the bounds of discretion, for the
place was very ill-fortified; their cannon, which did not exceed twenty
pieces, were wretchedly mounted; they had not one engineer to direct their
operations; they had a very small number of horse; the garrison consisted
of people unacquainted with military discipline; they were destitute of
provisions; they were besieged by a king, in person, at the head of a
formidable army, directed by good officers, and supplied with all the
necessary implements for a siege or battle.
The town was invested on April 20th; the batteries were soon opened, and
several attacks were made with great impetuosity, but the besiegers
were always repulsed with considerable loss; the townsmen gained divers
advantages in repeated sallies, and would have held their enemies in the
utmost contempt had they not been afflicted with a contagious distemper,
as well as reduced to extremity by want of provisions; they were even
tantalized in their distress, for they had the mortification to see some
ships, which had arrived with supplies from England, prevented from sailing
up the river by the batteries the enemy had raised on both sides, and a
boom with which they had blocked up the channel.
At length a reënforcement arrived in the Lough, under the command of
General Kirke, who had deserted his master, and been employed in the
service of King William. He found means to convey intelligence to Walker
that he had troops and provisions on board for their relief, but found it
impracticable to sail up the river. He promised, however, that he would
land a body of forces at the Inch, and endeavor to make a diversion in
their favor, when joined by the troops at Inniskillen, which amounted to
five thousand men, including two thousand cavalry. He said he expected six
thousand men from England, where they were embarked before he set sail; he
exhorted them to persevere in their courage and loyalty, and assured them
that he would come to their relief at all hazards. The assurances enabled
them to bear their miseries a little longer, though their numbers daily
diminished. Major Baker dying, his place was filled by Colonel Michelburn,
who now acted as colleague to Mr. Walker.
King James having returned to Dublin to be present at the Parliament, the
command of his army devolved to the French general, Rosene,[1] who was
exasperated by such an obstinate opposition by a handful of half-starved
militia. He threatened to raze the town to its foundations and destroy the
inhabitants without distinction of age or sex unless they would immediately
submit themselves to their lawful sovereign. The governors treated his
menaces with contempt, and published an order that no person, on pain of
death, should talk of surrendering. They had now consumed the last remains
of their provisions, and supported life by eating the flesh of horses,
dogs, cats, rats, mice, and tallow, starch, and salted hides; and even
this loathsome food began to fail. Rosene, finding them deaf to all his
proposals, threatened to wreak his vengeance on all the Protestants of that
county and drive them under the walls of Londonderry, where they should be
suffered to perish by famine. The Bishop of Meath being informed of this
design, complained to King James of the barbarous intention, entreating his
majesty to prevent its being put into execution; that Prince assured
him that he had already ordered Rosene to desist from such proceedings;
nevertheless, the Frenchman executed his threats with the utmost rigor.
[Footnote 1: James was assisted in his attempt by a small body of French
troops, England having entered the Grand Alliance against Louis XIV.--ED.]
Parties of dragoons were detached on this cruel service. After having
stripped all the Protestants for thirty miles round, they drove these
unhappy people before them like cattle, without even sparing the enfeebled
old men, nurses with infants at their breasts, and tender children. About
four thousand of these miserable objects were driven under the walls of
Londonderry. This expedient, far from answering the purpose of Rosene,
produced a quite contrary effect. The besieged were so exasperated at this
act of inhumanity that they resolved to perish rather than submit to such a
barbarian. They erected a gibbet in sight of the enemy, and sent a message
to the French general importing that they would hang all the prisoners they
had taken during the siege unless the Protestants whom they had driven
under the walls should be immediately dismissed. This threat produced a
negotiation, in consequence of which the Protestants were released after
they had been detained three days without tasting food. Some hundreds
died of famine or fatigue; and those who lived to return to their own
habitations found them plundered and sacked by the papists, so that the
greater number perished for want, or were murdered by straggling parties of
the enemy. Yet these very people had for the most part obtained protection
from King James, to which no respect was paid by his general.
The garrison of Londonderry was now reduced from seven thousand to five
thousand seven hundred men, and these were driven to such extremity of
distress that they began to talk of killing the popish inhabitants and
feeding on their bodies. Kirke, who had hitherto lain inactive, ordered
two ships laden with provisions to sail up the river, under convoy of the
Dartmouth (frigate); one of these, called the Mountjoy, broke the enemy's
boom, and all the three--after having sustained a very hot fire from both
sides of the river--arrived in safety at the town, to the inexpressible joy
of the inhabitants.
The army of James was so dispirited by the success of this enterprise that
they abandoned the siege in the night, and retired with precipitation,
after having lost about nine thousand men before the place. Kirke no sooner
took possession of the town than Walker was prevailed upon to embark for
England, with an address of thanks from the inhabitants to their majesties
for the seasonable relief they had received.
King James trusted so much to the disputes in the English Parliament that
he did not believe his son-in-law would be able to quit that kingdom, and
William had been six days in Ireland before he received intimation of his
arrival. This was no sooner known than he left Dublin under the guard
of the militia, commanded by Luttrel, and, with a reënforcement of six
thousand infantry which he had lately received from France, joined the
rest of his forces, which now almost equalled William's army in number,
exclusive of about fifteen thousand men who remained in different
garrisons. He occupied a very advantageous post on the bank of the Boyne,
and, contrary to the advice of his general officers, resolved to stand
battle. They proposed to strengthen their garrisons, and retire to the
Shannon, to wait the effect of the operations at sea.
Louis had promised to equip a powerful armament against the English fleet,
and send over a great number of small frigates to destroy William's
transports, as soon as their convoy should be returned to England; the
execution of this scheme was not at all difficult, and must have proved
fatal to the English army, for their stores and ammunition were still on
board; the ships sailed along the coast as the troops advanced in their
march; and there was not one secure harbor into which they could retire on
any emergency. James, however, was bent on hazarding an engagement, and
expressed uncommon confidence and alacrity. Besides the river, which was
deep, his front was secured by a morass and a rising ground; so that the
English army could not attack him without manifest disadvantage.
King William marched up to the opposite bank of the river, and as he
reconnoitred their situation was exposed to the fire of some field-pieces,
which the enemy purposely planted against his person. They killed a man and
two horses close by him, and the second bullet rebounding from the earth,
grazed on his right shoulder, so as to carry off part of his clothes and
skin and produce a considerable contusion. This accident, which he bore
without the least emotion, created some confusion among his attendants,
which, the enemy perceiving, concluded he was killed, and shouted aloud in
token of their joy; the whole camp resounded with acclamation, and several
squadrons of their horse were drawn down toward the river as if they
intended to pass it immediately and attack the English army. The report was
instantly communicated from place to place until it reached Dublin; from
thence it was conveyed to Paris, where, contrary to the custom of the
French court, the people were encouraged to celebrate the event with
bonfires and illuminations.