CHAPTER IX
"QUEBEC FOR KING LOUIS"
When Count Frontenac arrived at Quebec the massacre at Lachine had just thrilled all Canada with horror. It was time to be up and doing if the French Canadians were not to be utterly exterminated, if New France was to be saved for King Louis, then at the height of his power and renown. Callières, the Governor of Montreal, saw in the presence not of the Iroquois but of the English in New York the root of all Canada's troubles. He urged his sovereign to strike, and King Louis had resolved to deal them a blow once and for all, from which they would never recover. He would banish them from New York and plant a colony of Frenchmen instead. The plan was entrusted to Frontenac to execute. Unfortunately for the success of this scheme, sufficient ships and troops and money were not forthcoming at the right moment from France. There followed vexatious delays, and when the French fleet at length crossed the ocean and anchored at Chedabucto, in Acadia, the season was too far advanced to begin operations. Meanwhile Frontenac was not the man to let time dwell on his hands. Against the English colonies three war-parties were organised whose deeds of blood were long remembered in American homesteads and in Indian wigwams. Frontenac saw that French prestige had sunk so low amongst the northern and western tribes that all were ready to make peace with the dreaded Iroquois on any terms. At the very name of Frenchmen the meanest brave amongst the Five Nations laughed and spat contemptuously on the ground.
"Now, by St. Louis," cried Frontenac, "they shall see how weak we are!"
His fiery soul could not wait upon the seasons. The three expeditions he sent forth marched amidst the ice and snow of mid-winter, for it was by such a stroke of daring that Canada could be saved. The first started from Montreal, led by Mantet and Ste. Hélène, one of the three sons of the brave Canadian named Le Moine, and after incredible hardships reached the village of Schenectady, on the Hudson. They burst upon the sleeping, unsuspecting villagers in the middle of the night, killing many and taking numerous prisoners. When the fighting was over they burned nearly the whole settlement to the ground. The Indians of the party were indignant at not being able to torture the prisoners unhindered, for the French-Canadian leaders were not cruel by nature. They showed gratitude to an English colonist named Glen, who, on a previous occasion, had treated certain French prisoners with kindness. Glen barricaded his house, resolved to sell his life dearly, but the Canadian captain called out to him to have no fear. "We are your debtors, not your enemies. Moreover, if you have any kinsmen amongst the captives we have taken, point them out, and they shall go free." The Quebec Indians looked on sulkily while the Englishman took advantage of this handsome offer and named several of the prisoners. "This Yankee pale-face has a terribly large family," their chief was heard to grumble.
The second war-party from Three Rivers, led by the redoubtable François Hertel, wiped out the village of Salmon Falls, butchering most of the inhabitants; while the third, under the command of Portneuf, attacked and captured the fort and settlement at Casco Bay. To the disgrace of Portneuf, he broke faith with the heroic garrison when they surrendered, and abandoned his prisoners to his Indian allies, who scalped and burnt them all.
By feats such as these the tide was turned. At last the French had exhibited proofs of their prowess, and the Iroquois were not slow in acknowledging that they had made a mistake when they branded them with the name of cowards. Frontenac could strike still as heavy a blow as in the past. The wavering North-West tribes made haste to assure him of their support, and the haughty Iroquois, in spite of the arguments of the English, sent deputies to Quebec to congratulate Onontio on his return to the land. The furs which had been collecting for three years in the distant ports, with none daring enough to venture upon their transport, now began to pour into Montreal in hundreds of canoes. Trade began to revive, and the drooping spirits of the colonists were exchanged for gladness and hope.
Could the redoubtable Frontenac have thought that the English colonists would bear this terrible treatment tamely? No! every mind and bosom there was excited by the desire for revenge. Moreover, they knew that now France's chief strength lay in Frontenac himself. With England flying at the throat of Old France, the King, to whom Frontenac applied, told him bluntly that he had need for all his soldiers in Europe. "Your demands," wrote King Louis, "come at a wrong time. A defensive policy is the proper one for you to pursue." True, William the Third of England also could give little help to the New Englanders. They, too, must fight their own battles. To their own arms was it left to inflict chastisement on the Canadians in the north. Accordingly, all the colonies met in consultation, and by great efforts a fleet of seven vessels and several hundred men was raised in Boston. Sir William Phips led them forth, and Port Royal, in Acadia, was taken without much trouble. Sufficient booty was captured to cover the cost of this expedition, and the New Englanders returned flushed with triumph and eager for a more daring blow. Meanwhile a land force of 1300 men, under Colonel Winthrop, had failed, through sickness and mismanagement, to reach Montreal by way of Lake Champlain. A portion of this little army had followed Captain John Schuyler onwards, and, crossing the Canadian border, killed a few Frenchmen near Montreal. When it had done that, it beat a hasty retreat.
Such raids as these—for raids is all they were—afforded little satisfaction to the English colonists, burning with a desire to sweep the lilies of France from the New World. Silently and speedily a plot was matured, and by the next summer it was ripe. Frontenac, thinking all was secure for the present, had left Quebec to entertain a band of Iroquois at Montreal to a great feast and war-dance. One morning a messenger arrived post-haste to tell him that the enemy in their ships were sailing up the St. Lawrence. Not a moment was to be lost. Summoning the Governor of Montreal and De Ramsay of Three Rivers to follow him with every man who could shoulder a musket, the lion-hearted Frontenac pressed forward with all his speed. Ere he could reach Quebec the enemy's fleet had anchored off the Isle of Orleans. Quebec was almost in a panic, but Frontenac's arrival instantly assuaged their fears. He filled all with his enthusiasm. They resolved to die rather than yield. Great trunks of trees and casks filled with stones were hastily heaped up where the walls were weakest. On the enemy were trained the rows of cannon, and 2700 men firmly awaited the onslaught. Was the danger then so great? Who was the man—who were the men—who thus hoped to storm the strongest citadel in New France?