CHAPTER IX.
The expedition against Niagara consisted of a detachment of the Royal Artillery, the 44th and 46th British regiments, the 4th battalion of the Royal Americans, two battalions of New York Provincials, and a large body of Indians under Sir William Johnson: Brigadier Prideaux commanded in chief. On the 20th of May the troops commenced their advance from Schenectady, where they had assembled, and moved upon Oswego; they embarked on Lake Ontario from that port on the 1st of July, after a march of great difficulty, but without interruption from the enemy. A detachment under Colonel Haldimand was left for the protection of Oswego.
The British force landed, unopposed, on the 7th of July, about six miles to the eastward of Fort Niagara, and at once set to work in opening a communication between the landing place and the Niagara River. The fort was situated on a narrow peninsula, the lake on one side, the broad, deep stream on the other; it was thus a matter of little difficulty to invest the position effectually on the land side, while the numerous bateaux cut off from the besieged all communication by water. Prideaux planned and advanced his approaches with skill and vigor. Batteries were speedily erected, from which he fired upon the defenses, and kept under the artillery of the French. Still, as the superiority of the besiegers' guns told more and more upon the crumbling ramparts, the works were pushed closer and closer, and fresh spirit was thrown into the attack.
On the first arrival of the English army before the fort, the general had sent a peremptory summons to M. Pouchot,[171] the commandant, to surrender at discretion; this was promptly refused by the stout Frenchman, who answered that "his post was strong, his garrison faithful, and that, the longer he held out, the more he should win the esteem of his enemy." Early intelligence of the approaching danger had reached Pouchot; he had not lost a moment in dispatching couriers eastward to Frontenac, to inform the Canadian government, and southward to Detroit, Presque Isle, Venango, and Le Bœuf, with orders for all the French detachments to assemble with their Indian allies at the Niagara Rapids, and to hasten to his relief.
On the 10th of July, M. Chaboust arrived, with a small party of French and some savages, and succeeded in getting into the fort. On the 11th the besieged attempted a sally upon the British trenches, but were instantly overpowered, and pursued till they found shelter under the fire of their guns. By the 14th the besiegers' parallels were finished to the banks of the lake, and the fire became so heavy that the defenders could only find safety in the covered way and behind the ramparts. On the 19th the French schooner Iroquoise arrived from Frontenac, and lay to abreast of the fort, but could not venture in under the English guns, which still, night and day, kept up their harassing fire.
General Prideaux being well informed of the enemy's formidable muster for the relief of the fort, made every preparation that zeal and prudence could suggest to meet their designs; but at this critical moment a melancholy accident deprived the army of his useful services, and gave to another the enjoyment of the honors which he had worthily won. On the evening of the 19th, while issuing some orders in the trenches, unperceived by the gunners in a battery close at hand, a cohorn mortar was unhappily fired, the shell of which burst prematurely, and a splinter struck the gallant general with a deadly wound. The command devolved to the hands of Sir William Johnson.
Meanwhile the besieged, though hardly pressed, were still buoyed up with the hope of relief from their advancing countrymen. On the 23d four savages made their way into the fort with a letter to M. Bouchet, informing him that MM. d'Aubry and De Lignières were at hand with 1200 Frenchmen and a still larger force of Indians, and that they were about to attack the British lines. On the result of this attack hung the fate of Niagara and of all the Western country which still owned the sway of France: preparations were made to second it with all the efforts of the garrison. The cause of the French was, however, already all but desperate; the feeble defenses of the fort shook and crumbled under the heavy and increasing fire of their enemies. An overpowering artillery forbade the approach of their vessel from the lake. The beleaguering trenches intruded within 100 yards of their parapets, and gave shelter to swarms of British and Indian marksmen. The little garrison was worn by toil and wasted by death; the barracks and dwellings were ruined by shot and shell; and, worst of all, the apparently favorable chance in the death of the besieging general had only transferred the conduct of the attack to hands even more able and skillful than those of the deceased. It was true that the French detachment, then about to risk all for their relief, were brave and veteran troops; but their numbers were hopelessly inadequate, and little dependence could be placed in the politic and faithless savages who marched with them, more to witness than to contribute to their success or defeat.
On the other hand, Sir William Johnson had received ample notice of De Aubry's approach, and, confident in his own strength and ability, made steady preparation for the combat. His great superiority of force enabled him to leave the trenches crowded with troops, chiefly Provincials, while he marched out to overwhelm the advancing enemy. About sunset on the evening of the 23d, he pushed forward strong pickets, and the light companies of the regular regiments, into the woods on either side of the rude track leading from Niagara Falls to the Fort, and scattered small parties of Indians on the flanks of the Europeans. Having posted their sentries, and no enemy being yet visible, Johnson's advance lay down to rest upon their arms. Never, perhaps, has a stranger scene been witnessed than the banks of the Niagara River presented on that September night: the dark ramparts of the fort, every now and then illumined by the flash of the defenders' guns, or suddenly revealed by the red light of a salvo from the hostile trenches; in the open plain beyond, the white tents and the huts of the besieging army; and further on, the watch-fires of the advanced guard throwing their flickering glare upon the lofty arches of the forest, and upon the scattered groups of the British soldiery and Indian warriors. Away, still further to the west, unseen in the gloomy woods, the weak but gallant troops of France slept the sleep which most of them were to know no more. High over all, the soft, misty spray from the neighboring cataract stood like a huge pillar of lightest summer clouds up against the sky, while the dull, deep roar of falling waters filled the air with a solemn and unceasing voice.
At daylight on the 24th Sir William Johnson advanced his Grenadier companies and part of the 46th regiment, under Lieutenant-colonel Massey, to strengthen his front, while the 44th regiment, under Lieutenant-colonel Farquhar, kept up the communication with Major Beckwith, who commanded the troops in the trenches, and remained in readiness to throw their force wherever aid might be required. These judicious dispositions being made, the British awaited the approach of the enemy.
At about eight o'clock the leading files of the French were first perceived advancing through the woods, flanked by large bodies of Indians; as they came on, the English outposts fell back on the reserves steadily, and without firing. In the mean time, the Iroquois, serving under Johnson, endeavored to parley with the Canadian savages, with a view of inducing them to make peace; these overtures were, however, unsuccessful, and the warriors of the Five Nations fell back on the flanks of the British. By nine o'clock D'Aubry's force was formed, and the order immediately given for the attack. With furious gestures and terrible impetuosity, the Indians burst through the woods and fell upon the English lines as they rushed to the charge, shouting the appalling war-cry which had once struck terror into their foes; but it fell upon accustomed ears: they were received with a calm front and steady fire. The Grenadiers of the 44th, who had received a dreadful lesson in savage warfare under the unfortunate Braddock, now bore the shock unmoved, and, stoutly supported by the 46th, with a few rolling volleys they swept away the fierce assailants. So complete was the discomfiture of the red warriors that they rallied no more, and so sudden their disappearance from the scene of strife that the French could only attribute it to treachery which had prearranged defeat.
Undismayed by the dispersion of his allies, the gallant D'Aubry led on his men against the besiegers' position, now strengthened by a force of Provincials from the trenches. The attack was vigorously and bravely pushed, but failed to shake the steady courage of the British troops; meanwhile Johnson's Indians made their way through the woods, and fell upon the flanks of the French. Attacked on all sides, deserted by allies, outnumbered by foes, the assailants hesitated, gave way, and in little more than half an hour broke into utter rout. D'Aubry and all his surviving officers were taken, with a great part of his troops; the remainder were pursued with deadly zeal, and slain or driven into the wilderness.
It was not until two o'clock in the day that Pouchot and his garrison were informed that the firing heard in the morning had ended in the ruin of their hopes of succor. With great difficulty and danger, an Indian had passed the besiegers' lines and borne them the unwelcome intelligence of D'Aubry's defeat and capture. From the earliest dawn, deep excitement had reigned in the beleaguered fort; while the shades of night still lingered under the tall forest trees, flashes of scattered musketry had occasionally burst forth. As the morning advanced, the dropping shots quickened into the sharp rattle of a skirmish, the sounds still approaching the besieged, and stimulating hopes of aid. A little before nine o'clock the skirmish had breezed up into a battle; for half an hour the line of fire waved to and fro, now bent toward the fort, again receded up the banks of the Great River, then held pertinaciously to a woody hollow, and at length fell back into the forest, became broken, interrupted, indistinct, and disappeared. With it vanished the last chance of succor for the garrison of Niagara.
When the first ardor of the pursuit had abated, and Sir William Johnson had got his forces somewhat in hand again, he sent Major Harvey with a flag of truce to inform the French chief of the morning's events, and to exhort him to surrender without further bloodshed, conveying also a terrible hint that in a little time he might not be able to restrain the fierce vengeance of his Indian allies. Pouchot yet doubted, or affected to doubt, the truth of the woeful disaster which had befallen his countrymen, and, still endeavoring to gain time, requested that one of his officers might be allowed to see the prisoners, and hear the tale of defeat from their own lips. The request was granted, the facts were ascertained, and, no further excuse for procrastination suggesting itself, the stubborn Frenchman then surrendered with his fort and garrison.[172]
The terms of capitulation were liberal, and worthy of both conquerors and conquered. It was agreed that the French troops should march out with the honors of war from the ramparts they had so well defended, and lay down their arms on the banks of the lake. There they were to embark immediately in vessels provided by Sir William Johnson, and to be carried to New York by the shortest and easiest route. The French ladies, and all females and children, were offered safe conveyance, subsistence, and escort to the nearest port of France: and the sick and wounded men were to be carefully tended till able to travel, when they were to rejoin their comrades. The victors undertook to protect their prisoners from every insult or injury, in person and in property. All stores, provisions, and arms, with every thing belonging to his most Christian majesty, were to be delivered up in strict faith by M. Pouchot. At seven o'clock in the morning of the 26th of July, a British guard was to take possession of the fort gates.
Accordingly, a little before mid-day on the 26th, the French garrison, 607 strong, marched out from the lost stronghold. Drums were beating, colors flying, and bayonets fixed; but the downcast and sullen looks of the bronzed veterans showed that these "honors of war" were but a mockery to their dejected hearts. Many a glance of angry sorrow and embittered regret was cast back upon the magnificent scene they were to revisit no more; never again was the "spotless flag" to flaunt its ample folds upon the breezes of the Western lakes; never again were the martial strains of France to sound through the majestic roar of nature's grandest wonder. A sufficient British guard attended under arms to keep the fierce and vindictive Indians at a distance. But the humane and extraordinary influence which Sir William Johnson exercised over the minds of his savage followers proved more effectual in restraining their ferocious passions than any mere show of force. The fear of alienating the allegiance of his Indians weighed not a feather weight in his loyal heart when the cause of mercy and his plighted word were at stake. For the successful exercise of his well-earned power over the red warriors, he must, upon this occasion, ever stand in most favorable contrast with Montcalm, his more brilliant rival.
Every article of the capitulation of Niagara was strictly observed in spirit and in letter: no insulting triumph dimmed the honor of British victory, but a demeanor of respectful sympathy with the vanquished characterized the gallant conquerors throughout the embarkation and all subsequent proceedings.
The English loss in this siege and in the action was very slight, with the exception of that of their worthy general, Prideaux, and of Colonel Johnson, a provincial officer of courage and capacity. Sir William Johnson enhanced the merit of his success by his modest and honorable dispatch to General Amherst. "I have only to regret," he writes, "the loss of General Prideaux and Colonel Johnson. I endeavored to pursue the late general's vigorous measures, the good effects of which he deserved to enjoy."
Historians have dwelt with admiration upon the striking military merit displayed at this time by two untaught generals, Clive in the East, and Johnson in the West, "who, by a series of shining actions have demonstrated that uninstructed genius can, by its own internal light and efficacy, rival, if not eclipse, the acquired art of discipline and experience." Thus writes Smollett: the learned doctor's remark is capable of far more general application than to the cases here mentioned. Our military system always has trusted, and still trusts, to this "uninstructed genius" in our chiefs, and by its own provisions furnished no teaching to a Marlborough and a Wellington beyond the knowledge of drill in a field day, and of the forms of discipline in a barrack yard. While we rest with pride and pleasure on the undoubted predominance of success over all foes which has attended our arms, we may not deny that to the never failing chivalry of the officers and to the stubborn courage of the soldiery are these successes due. Many and sad are the records of combats where torrents of British blood have flowed to redeem the errors, or to make amends for the want of military science in a British chief. Our great captains, great in genius and skill as well as in success, have indeed been "lone stars," presenting, in comparison, to those not so gifted, very much the proportion which "uninstructed genius" usually displays among men in other pursuits of life.
It may be urged that the officers of our instructed corps, the artillery and engineers, have never supplied the general service with a chief of conspicuous ability; but it is a remarkable fact that, except in the brief Syrian campaign of 1840, no member of those corps has ever led an English army, or even a brigade. Through the unvarying rule of promotion by seniority, no officer of artillery or engineers arrives at a sufficient rank to command, until a time of life when the experience of the veteran can hardly be aided by the energy of the man. Rare indeed must be the instances of those who have passed nearly half a century of service, in which the hope of reward was too faint to stimulate industry, the dread of censure too slight to alarm indolence, and who still retain sufficient zeal and vigor for their country's need. They are probably equally rare with the instances of successful "genius" among their uninstructed brethren of the rest of the British army.
Many worthy and earnest, though mistaken men there are, who dread the instruction of the toiling millions of our countrymen; who believe in all sincerity that the penetrating light of awakened intellect would flash upon the squalid purlieus of Manchester and Liverpool only to render degradation more degraded, and misery more miserable, by a keener appreciation. There can hardly, however be found any one, beyond those grown gray under the existing system, who fears that professional education could perniciously influence the qualifications of our officers for their station in life, or damp their undoubted chivalry and spirit. To cast aside political or personal considerations, and select for command the man most conspicuous by merit and genius, has not been an unvarying rule with those in high authority. But a system requiring the qualifications of at least a careful education[173] from all to whom the lofty trust of England's military honor is confided, might to a great extent supply the deficiencies of chiefs unendowed with the gift of genius, and undistinguished by pre-eminent merit.
By the capture of Niagara, the French posts to the westward, on the lakes and rivers, were cut off from all aid; and by the destruction of D'Aubry's army, composed principally of their garrisons, they were rendered incapable of any effectual resistance. Colonel Bouquet, therefore, who, with a small force, had been detached by Brigadier-general Stanwix against the principal of these, Presque Isle, Venango, and Le Bœuf, had only to summon them to surrender and then to take possession, with no greater difficulties than those presented by the long and rugged route.
We must now, for a moment, return to Colonel Haldimand, who was, as before related, left in command at Oswego by General Prideaux. In the forenoon of the 5th of July, while superintending the works at the fort, he was startled by the well-known sound of the Indian war-whoop close at hand, but no enemy then appeared. The English colonel immediately sent out scouts upon the lake, who brought word that an armament of 100 boats was lying in a neighboring cove. About mid-day some Indians and Canadians appeared in the borders of the forest near the fort, and made a show of attacking two detached redoubts, but were speedily driven back among the trees; from thence, however, they kept up a dropping fire, which was only silenced by the approach of night. A deserter who had passed over under cover of the darkness, gave information that the attacking party consisted of 300 colony troops, 1300 Canadian militia, and 150 Indians, and that M. de la Corne was in command. The French had hoped to carry the fort by surprise: their zeal was stimulated by the vindictive fury of a Canadian priest, named Piquet, who marched at their head till the fire commenced, urged them on with the hope of plunder, and denounced all who might give quarter to the heretic enemy.
The night passed without any alarm. At first dawn, however, the dusky forms of the Indians were seen cautiously approaching the western angle of the intrenchments, and mustering for an attack. But two guns loaded with grape, and a sharp volley of musketry from the fort, at once drove them back yelling into the woods. After a time they gathered sufficient determination to make an attempt at burning the English boats in the harbor, which they again and again repeated, but always without success. M. de la Corne did not bring his French troops into action. Finding Colonel Haldimand well prepared for his reception, he abandoned the enterprise, having buried his dead, and carried off his wounded to the boats. The French chief acquired little honor by this impotent demonstration; not a prisoner rewarded his efforts, nor did he obtain a single scalp, although the deserters affirmed that he had offered 1000 livres for one such horrible trophy. The fierce priest, Piquet, gained a reputation for cruelty and ferocity which was not forgotten when Canada had passed from the sway of France.
Thus every where in the far West success attended the British arms. One small fort, indeed, at the remote extremity of Lake Erie, on the banks of the Detroit River, still remained in the possession of France, but distance and comparative insignificance were its sole protection: shut out from supplies or re-enforcements, and feebly garrisoned, it only awaited the summons to surrender. The English force on Lake Ontario rested upon their arms after their somewhat easy victory; Amherst's strength, as we have seen, lay paralyzed by the opposing winds on Lake Champlain; the plan of the campaign as yet had failed. Opposition had been overpowered, forts taken, guns, trophies, and stores captured, but still, at the vital point, at the great Canadian stronghold, from the lofty headland of Quebec, the wise and gallant Montcalm, with an outnumbering host, looked down in unshaken confidence upon the invader's force. There the real battle was to be fought; there alone the die was to be cast which should decide the fate of France's noblest colony. Time rolled on, spring had warmed into summer; summer now deepened into autumn; the broad sycamore leaf drooped upon the stem; the rich foliage of the maple betrayed in its chameleon tints the approaching fall; the mysterious northern lights reappeared in the chilly darkness, and illumined the unclouded sky. Still, while these symptoms of the coming winter crowded upon the eyes of the British generals on Champlain and Ontario, they gained no tidings of their colleague's fate, save such vague rumors as a wandering Indian or a false deserter might convey; and yet, with wonder be it said, they sat them down to rest, and inactively awaited the event of that all-important struggle.