The Fighting Governor: A Chronicle of Frontenac

by Charles W. Colby

To this challenge Frontenac at once returned the answer which comported with his character. When Phips's envoy took out his watch to register the hour permitted by the ultimatum, Frontenac rejoined that he required no time for deliberation, but would return his answer by the mouth of the cannon. The ground which he assigned for the invasion of New England was that its people had rebelled against their lawful prince, the ally of France. Other more personal observations were directed towards the manner in which Phips had behaved at Port Royal. No word in writing would Frontenac send. The envoy (who was only a subaltern) received his congé, was blindfolded and led back to his boat.

Compliments having been thus exchanged, it remained for Phips to make good his challenge. If we compare the four English and American sieges of Quebec, the attack by Phips will be seen to have little in common with those of Kirke and Montgomery, but to resemble rather strikingly the attack by Wolfe. Without fighting, Kirke swooped down upon a garrison which was exhausted by starvation. Arnold and Montgomery operated without a fleet. But while Phips's attempt is unlike Wolfe's in that it ended in failure, the presence of the fleet and the attempt to effect a landing below the mouth of the St Charles present features of real similarity. It is clear that Phips received intelligence from prisoners of a possible landing above the town, at the spot where Wolfe carried out his daring and desperate coup de main. But, anticipating Wolfe in another quarter, he chose to make his first attack on the flats rather than on the heights.

The troops ordinarily stationed at Quebec were increased just after Phips's arrival by a force of seven hundred regulars and militiamen under Callières, who had come down from Montreal with all possible haste. So agile were the French and so proficient in irregular warfare that Phips found it difficult to land any considerable detachment in good order. Thirteen hundred of the English did succeed in forming on the Beauport Flats, after wading through a long stretch of mud. There followed a preliminary skirmish in which three hundred French were driven back with no great loss, after inflicting considerable damage on the invaders. But though the English reached the east bank of the St Charles they could do no more. Phips wasted his ammunition on a fruitless and ill-timed bombardment, which was answered with much spirit from the cliffs. Meanwhile the musketeers on the bank of the St Charles were unable to advance alone and received no proper supply of stores from the ships. Harassed by the Canadians, wet, cold, and starving, they took to the boats, leaving behind them five cannon. After this nothing happened, save deliberations on the part of Phips and his officers as to whether there remained anything that could be done other than to sail for home, beaten and humiliated, with a heavy burden of debt to hang round the neck of a too ambitious Massachusetts. Thus ended the second siege of Quebec (October 23, 1690).

Frontenac had lost two of his best soldiers—Sainte-Hélène, of the fighting Le Moynes, and the Chevalier de Clermont; but, this notwithstanding, the victory was felt to be complete. The most precious trophy was the flag of Phips's ship, which a shot from the ramparts had knocked into the river, whence it was rescued and brought ashore in triumph. Best of all, the siege had been too short to bring famine in its train. The loss of life was inconsiderable, and in prestige the soldiery of New France now stood on a pinnacle which they had never before attained. When we consider the paucity of the forces engaged, this repulse of the English from Quebec may not seem an imposing military achievement. But Canada had put forth her whole strength and had succeeded where failure would have been fatal. In the shouts of rejoicing which followed Phips's withdrawal we hear the cry of a people reborn.

The siege of Quebec and Schuyler's raid on Laprairie open up a subject of large and vital moment—the historical antagonism of New France and New England. Whoever wishes to understand the deeper problems of Canada in the age of Frontenac should read John Fiske's volumes on the English colonies. In the rise of Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York, Connecticut, and Massachusetts one sees the certain doom which was impending over New France. It may be too much to say that Richelieu by conquering Alsace threw away America. Even had the population of Canada been increased to the extent called for by the obligations of Richelieu's company in 1627, the English might have nevertheless prevailed. But the preoccupation of France with the war against Austria prevented her from giving due attention to the colonial question at the critical moment when colonists should have been sent out in large numbers. And it is certain that by nothing short of a great emigration could France have saved Canada. As it was, the English were bound to prevail by weight of population. When the conflict reached its climax in the days of Montcalm and Wolfe, two and a half million English Americans confronted sixty-five thousand French Canadians. On such terms the result of the contest could not be doubtful. Even in Frontenac's time the French were protected chiefly by the intervening wilderness and the need of the English colonists to develop their own immediate resources. The English were not yet ready for a serious offensive war. In fact they, too, had their own Indian question.

It is a matter of some interest to observe how the conquest of Canada was postponed by the lack of cohesion among the English colonies. Selfishness and mutual jealousy prevented them from combining against the common foe. Save for this disunion and fancied conflict of interest, New France must have succumbed long before the time of Montcalm. But the vital significance of the conflict between New England and New France lies in the contrast of their spirit and institutions. The English race has extended itself through the world because it possessed the genius of emigration. The French colonist did his work magnificently in the new home. But the conditions in the old home were unfavourable to emigration. The Huguenots, the one class of the population with a strong motive for emigrating, were excluded from Canada in the interest of orthodoxy. The dangers of the Atlantic and the hardships of life in a wintry wilderness might well deter the ordinary French peasant; moreover, it by no means rested with him to say whether he would go or stay. But, whatever their nature, the French race lost a wonderful opportunity through the causes which prevented a healthy, steady exodus to America.

England profited by having classes of people sufficiently well educated to form independent opinions and strong enough to carry out the programme dictated by these opinions. While each of the English colonies sprang from a different motive, all had in common the purpose to form an effective settlement. The fur trade did France more harm than good. It deflected her attention from the middle to the northern latitudes and lured her colonists from the land in search of quick profits. It was the enemy to the home. On the other hand, the English came to America primarily in search of a home. Profits they sought, like other people, but they sought them chiefly from the soil.

Thus English ideas took root in America, gained new vitality, and assumed an importance they had not possessed in England for many centuries. And, while for the moment the organization of the English colonies was not well suited to offensive war, as we may judge from the abortive efforts of Phips and Schuyler, this defect could be corrected. Arising, as it did arise, from a lack of unity among the colonies, it was even indicative of latent strength. From one angle, localism seems selfishness and weakness; from another, it shows the vigorous life of separate communities, each self-centred and jealous of its authority because the local instinct is so vitally active. It only needed time to broaden the outlook and give the English colonies a sense of their common interest. Virginia, New York, and Massachusetts, by striking their roots each year more deeply into the soil of America, became more and more self-supporting states in everything save name and political allegiance; while New France, which with its austere climate would have developed more slowly in any case, remained dependent on the king's court.

Thus Frontenac's task was quite hopeless, if we define it as the effort to overthrow English power in America. But neither he nor any one of that age defined his duties so widely. In 1689 Canada was in extremes, with the Iroquois at Lachine and Dongan threatening an attack from New York. Frontenac's policy was defensive. If he struck first, it was because he considered audacity to be his best safeguard. No one knew better than Frontenac that a successful raid does not mean conquest.