FIGHTING ON THE FRONTIER
Up to midsummer of 1757, the British had accomplished nothing of
account; the French, also, had little to show for all the marching and
counter-marching, fortifying, and skirmishing with their foes. But a
decisive blow was to be struck, and by Montcalm, who, having been
informed by his spies of the condition of affairs at the lakes, sent an
overwhelming force against Fort William Henry, at the south end of Lake
George. It happened that a few days before the French army arrived at
the lake, Major Putnam, with two hundred men, escorted his commander,
General Webb, from Fort Edward to Fort William Henry, his object being
to examine into the efficiency of the latter fortification. The fort
itself was a poor construction, but it was commandingly situated on
ground gently rising from the shore of the lake, and its approaches were
defended by felled forest trees forming an immense abattis deemed
impenetrable.
With his customary caution, Major Putnam suggested to General Webb that
he should be sent down the lake to ascertain if the enemy were
approaching, certain inexplicable signs having aroused his suspicions.
His commander reluctantly consented, and Putnam took with him eighteen
volunteers and proceeded down the lake, but had not gone far before he
discovered a company of Frenchmen on an island. These men started out in
pursuit of Putnam in his whale-boats, and the latter retreated; but not
before he had, with the aid of a telescope, perceived a "large army in
motion." He reported to General Webb to this effect, and to his
astonishment that cowardly commander ordered him to make no mention of
the approach of the French army, though he agreed with Major Putnam
that it was destined for the reduction of the fort on the lake. He,
moreover, directed him to pledge his men to keep the matter secret from
the devoted garrison at Fort William Henry, and to make ready, without
loss of time, to return with him to headquarters at Fort Edward.
"But, your Excellency," exclaimed the amazed and indignant Putnam, "I
hope you do not intend to neglect so fair an opportunity of giving
battle, should the enemy presume to land!"
"What do you think we should do here?" replied the pusillanimous
commander; and no other answer would he give to the sub-ordinate who had
rashly ventured to expostulate with him. The next day, accordingly,
Putnam escorted Webb back to Fort Edward, whence the latter sent letters
to the Governor of New York, at Albany, urging him to send the militia
to his aid; and also despatched reenforcements to Fort William Henry
under Colonel Monroe, who was ordered to assume command of the
garrison, until then ignorant of their peril.
There were then about three thousand men at Fort William Henry, with as
many more held in reserve at Fort Edward, half a day's march only away.
Against the lake fort, however, Montcalm brought an army of eight or
nine thousand men, including not only a corps of Canadians, but a
"larger number of Indians in a body than had ever before been
collected." The French and Indians outnumbered the hapless garrison
three to one; but during the week in which they appeared before the fort
at Lake George (the first week in August, 1757), Sir William Johnson
reached Fort Edward with his Indians and militia from Albany, thus
augmenting the total British force considerably. He demanded to be
allowed to proceed to Fort William Henry, and was permitted to start
out, taking with him, besides his own force, Major Putnam and his
company of Rangers. Three miles from the fort, however, this rescuing
force was ordered to return, and thus such men as Johnson and Putnam
were compelled to remain at Fort Edward and listen to "the report of
cannon from Fort William Henry, two or three shots sometimes within a
minute or two of one another." Those fateful cannon-shots continued all
day long, and day after day, meanwhile, messengers were arriving from
Colonel Monroe asking for assistance in most urgent terms. For six days
the siege continued, with thousands of soldiers lying inactive at Fort
Edward while their brothers-in-arms were in peril of their lives at Fort
William Henry, only fourteen miles away. On the morning of the eighth of
August the cannon firing ceased, just as the last express from Colonel
Monroe arrived stating that he must give up the fort unless at once
relieved.
The ammunition of the beleaguered garrison was almost exhausted, many of
their cannon were split, some of the soldiers were sick with smallpox,
and their losses in killed and wounded amounted to more than three
hundred men. The end was inevitable, and it came after General Webb had
sent a letter to Colonel Monroe advising him to surrender. This letter
was intercepted by Montcalm, who thus knew the exact situation and acted
accordingly. He sent the letter to Colonel Monroe, with an urgent demand
for surrender, promising him most liberal terms, and the despairing
officer, who had gallantly defended the fort to the last, gave in and
threw himself upon the mercy of his foe.
The Marquis de Montcalm may have intended to keep his stipulations,
which were that the garrison should be protected by an escort of French
troops to Fort Edward, and their sick and wounded cared for. Relying
upon these terms, they marched out of the fort without arms or baggage,
but were no sooner clear of the gates than they were set upon by more
than two thousand Indians, excited by the liquor they had discovered and
drunk, and frenzied at the prospect of the escape of their foes. Then
ensued a sickening scene of slaughter. Then was committed the massacre,
which, had Major Putnam's advice been followed, might have been
prevented. More than fifteen hundred, men, women, and children, were
indiscriminately butchered, despite the promises of the "noble" Marquis
de Montcalm, and the Indians reveled in a carnival of blood.
It having been reported that the victorious Montcalm intended to march
against Fort Edward next, Major Putnam was despatched with his Rangers
to "watch the motions of the enemy," and reached the lake shore soon
after their departure. The fort was entirely demolished, he reported to
Webb, next day; "the barracks and all buildings were heaps of ruins, the
fires still burning, the smoke and stench from which were offensive and
suffocating. Innumerable fragments, human skulls, and bones were still
broiling, half consumed, in the smoldering flames. Dead bodies, mangled
with knives and tomahawks, including those of more than one hundred
women, were everywhere to be seen, affording a spectacle too horrible
for description."
And this awful occurrence might have been obviated, if, in the first
place, Major Putnam's precautions had been adopted and a firm stand made
in the face of the enemy; or if, in the second place, the reenforcements
so often requested by the commander of the garrison had been sent.
Montcalm himself told Major Putnam, when he was a prisoner in Canada,
the next year, that when Sir William Johnson with the militia and
Rangers set out from Fort Edward one of his runners reported as to their
number, "If you can count the leaves on the trees, you can count them."
Believing, then, that a mighty force was advancing against him, Montcalm
was on the point of abandoning the siege, when General Webb's order to
return saved the situation for the French. Of a truth, the conduct of
General Webb, in command of the forces at Fort Edward and Fort William
Henry, deserves the execration of the world. Fuming inwardly against
their unjustifiable detention, yet so well disciplined as to accept
their commander's orders with impassive faces, the soldiers all,
Provincials as well as regulars, were compelled to inaction, and thus
became in a sense accessories to the blood-thirsty savages who had
murdered their friends.
We have no record of any oath that Putnam may have taken, but doubtless
one was registered in Heaven, that his comrades should be avenged, for
his acts accord with this assumption. He was even more active than
before in annoying the enemy and in taking prisoners, both French and
Indian; but there is no stain of cruelty affixed to any of his deeds. He
fought honorably, without thought of himself, without regard for what
Fame might say of him, or the future hold in store. His courage was of
the sort that shuts its eyes to the consequences and goes straight
ahead, in the path of duty and rectitude.
Soon after the massacre at Fort William Henry, General Webb was relieved
of his command and succeeded by General Lyman, an old soldier under
whom Putnam had already served. Even old soldiers make mistakes, as will
now be shown. Having despatched one hundred and fifty men into the
forests adjacent to Fort Edward, to cut timber for strengthening the
fortification, General Lyman sent along a company of regulars to protect
them against possible attacks by Indians. This was a prudent measure;
but the commander had not counted upon the wary nature of the foe. He
should have sent out the Rangers, who knew the Indians and their ways
and would have provided protection, without a doubt. But there chanced
to be a Ranger on duty as a sentinel, and early one morning, before the
sun was up, his attention was attracted to a flight of wonderful birds
silently winging their way across the sky. Suddenly, one of those
"birds" came with great force against the limb of a tree right over his
head, where it stuck, and then the sentry saw that those winged
messengers were Indian arrows! He lost no time in giving the alarm and
the working party began retreating toward the fort. They were promptly
attacked by a large body of Indians, who had hoped to kill the sentry
without any noise, when the workmen would have been cut off, without a
doubt.
The regulars bravely stood their ground and poured a destructive fire
into the savage ranks; but the foe was persistent and soon obtained the
upper hand. It happened that, as usual, brave Putnam was not far distant
from the sound of battle, which he no sooner heard than he hastened in
its direction. As he and his men were posted on an island, he and they
waded through the water to dry land, and in pressing to the scene of
conflict passed near the fort, on the parapet of which stood General
Lyman, who, imagining the attack came from the main body of the enemy,
had called in his outposts and closed the gates. As Major Putnam and his
men dashed past on the double-quick, intent only upon rescuing their
friends from the savages, the General ordered them to return, believing
that they were needlessly exposing their lives in a vain attempt against
an overwhelming force.
For the first time in his military career (but not the last) Putnam
refused to obey the orders of his superior officer. Indignant at the
mere thought of abandoning his companions-at-arms at such a juncture, he
muttered something under his breath (which he afterward said was an
apology; but those who knew "Old Put" best thought otherwise) and pushed
on, without turning to right or left. And his obstinacy saved the day,
for, uniting with the regulars, the Rangers "rushed" the savages from
their position and chased them through the forest so long as daylight
lasted. Their victory was complete, and when they returned to the fort
the gates were no longer closed against them, nor was a reprimand
forthcoming from the General, the disobedience of whose orders made
Major Putnam more popular than ever.
That Major Putnam's bravery was of the sort requiring no artificial
stimulus, and proceeded solely from the promptings of a nature
superlative in every sense, was shown in the winter of 1757, when the
barracks at Fort Edward were consumed by a fire which threatened and
almost reached the powder magazine. Seeing the blaze from his aerie on
the island, Putnam attacked the fire as he always attacked the enemy,
with impetuosity. He at once took the forefront of danger, nearest to
the powder magazine, and, mounted on a ladder, threw upon the raging
flames the buckets of water which the soldiers brought him from the
river. Enshrouded in smoke, and so near the sheets of flame that a pair
of thick mittens was burned from his hands, Putnam heroically toiled to
subdue the fire, which was rapidly eating its way toward the magazine,
containing three hundred barrels of powder.
His commander at first begged him to descend, but as he was obstinate,
he provided him with another pair of mittens which had been dipped in
water, and, charmed at his pertinacity and bravery, exclaimed, "Well,
if we must be blown up we will all go together!" He then gave orders to
the men to redouble their efforts.
The sequel was that Putnam, though at times enveloped in smoke and
cinders, maintained his position, even when there was but a charred
strip of timber between him and the powder, finally extinguishing the
fire and saving the fort. One hour and a-half he had fought the flames.
"His legs, arms and face were blistered, and when he pulled off his
second pair of mittens, the skin from his hands and fingers followed
them." He was a month in hospital, recovering from his terrible burns;
but before the winter was over he was off scouting with his beloved
Rangers in the vicinity of Ticonderoga.