In the spring of 1756 the people welcomed with joy the arrival of a fresh fleet bearing 1000 soldiers, a supply of food and ammunition, and a large sum of money. Almost as great a boon King Louis bestowed upon Canada when he sent her the new Commander-in-Chief of the Canadian army, the Marquis de Montcalm. This hero was forty-six years old, a splendid soldier, of high character, culture, and determination. Could Canada be saved to the flag of the lilies? If so, surely it was the virtuous Montcalm who could achieve this great task.
CHAPTER XIV
HOW THE GALLANT WOLFE TOOK QUEBEC
If we were to tell the story of Canada faithfully for the next few years, it would be only of further battles, sieges, skirmishes, and massacres between the French and English colonists, aided by savage Indian warriors.
Never before had Canada boasted so many French soldiers as were now arrayed under the command of Montcalm. He fell upon Oswego and destroyed it, taking 1400 prisoners and great booty. Against him was sent the English Earl of Loudoun, no match for the French commander, and afraid to strike an overwhelming blow. Loudoun at last sailed away for Halifax with his army, thinking to make another attack by and by on Louisburg, still in French hands. A terrible mistake this of Loudoun's, and just the opportunity Montcalm looked for. The French had built a strong fortress at Ticonderoga, and now that the danger of Loudoun's army was removed, 6000 of their troops moved swiftly out of the fortress and attacked Fort William Henry.
Undaunted by the great force brought against him, the commander, Colonel Munro, answered Montcalm's summons to surrender by saying that he would defend his post to the death. The French planted their guns and the siege commenced. Day and night the wooden ramparts of Fort William Henry were splintered by Montcalm's cannon balls. Munro, brave Scotsman that he was, hoped vainly that the English garrison at Fort Edward would come to his rescue, but their commander was afraid to send them over. He knew that there were nearly 2000 bloodthirsty redskins roaming at large in the woods. They dreaded the tomahawk and scalping-knife more than the sword and musket. Well did they know what their fate would be if they fell into the hands, wounded or prisoners, of those relentless savages.
So at last one sweltering August day Munro realised that no hope remained. He could hold out no longer. His fort was nearly a mass of ruins, and reluctantly he hoisted the white flag asking Montcalm for terms of capitulation.
The French commander allowed the brave Munro and his soldiers to march out with the honours of war, pledging himself to protect them from his savage followers. Alas! Montcalm had reckoned without his host. He might as well have tried to fetter the summer breeze that blew across Lake George as to balk his redskin allies of their destined prey. They thirsted for the blood of the English. They could not understand the French code of honour. Of terms of capitulation they knew nothing. The soldiers of the garrison, with their wives and children, with a French escort, filed slowly through the woods on their way to a refuge at Fort Edward. Suddenly the Indians, sending up a terrible war-yell, darted upon them. One of the most dreadful massacres in history now took place. The soldiers could do nothing to defend themselves, because they had given up their muskets to the French. They were scalped by dozens and hundreds. Helpless women were brained by hatchets and little children were dashed to death against the trunks of trees.