When Pitt cast his eyes over the scantily traced map of the Western World, he disdained to note the almost insurmountable difficulties which its broad blanks unobtrusively represented. As his bold hand struck out the several lines of operation, he forgot the hideous wilderness, the stormy ocean, and the dangerous lake, over the tracings of which his pencil passed, and his daring heart doubted not for a moment of success. It is a trite observation, that a combined movement is always precarious, even under the most favorable circumstances. Uncertainty of weather, or different degrees of zeal and activity in the leaders, may disjoint the most elaborate scheme; but, in such a case as this, with all the superadded chances of the sea, the river, and the desert, a wisdom greater than that of the wisest, a power stronger than that of the most powerful, could alone have given us the victory.
The French possessed the immense advantage of acting as it were on a smooth high road, while their assailants were entangled in a broken and difficult country. The River St. Lawrence furnished a means of intercommunication that enabled them to throw the mass of their force upon any one of the hostile armies they might select, and thus outnumber each in succession; the bold position of Quebec supplied them with a place of arms, and an advantageous battle-ground when all else should be lost. The able and skillful Montcalm was not likely to fail in turning these favorable circumstances to full account.
The most vulnerable, and, at the same time, the most vital part of Canada was the spot where the Richelieu River pours into the St. Lawrence. Thence to the magnificent harbor of New York, a scarcely interrupted chain of navigable water, by the Lakes Champlain and George and the Hudson River, offered a practicable route to the invading force. Looking back upon the past with that wisdom which is the humble disciple of experience, it would appear that the whole British power should have been thrown at once upon that single point. By uniting the veteran corps embarked in the fleet from England and Nova Scotia, with the formidable force destined against Niagara, to the main army, nearly 25,000 British troops could have been brought to bear against the feeble defenses of the lakes, and poured down with irresistible strength on the Valley of the St. Lawrence. Thence to Quebec the watery path lay free and unembarrassed, and no hostile power existed strong enough to dare a battle against such a host. In the mean time, the English fleet should have anchored in the broad basin above the island of Orleans, intercepted all European aid, and, by vigorous demonstrations, kept in play as much as possible of the enemy's strength. Had this scheme been adopted, the decisive battle might probably have still been fought on the Plains of Abraham, but with far greater chances in favor of British triumph than in the fight which was subsequently bravely won. The whole disposable force of Canada would naturally have opposed the invading army, and would have been either forced down upon the defense of Quebec, or driven to an unequal combat. The French army overpowered and their great stronghold taken, Montreal, with Niagara and the Western country, must have lain an easy prey.
To find out the weakest point of the enemy's position, and to assail it with his greatest power, was the constant aim of the first of modern captains, and the talisman of his matchless success. The British minister's scheme for the conquest of Canada presents exactly the reverse of this system; the several strongholds of the French were selected for simultaneous attack by separate and insufficient forces. By an overruling Providence, however, the skill and daring of a British general, and the valor of his troops, together with the incomprehensible error of their chivalrous opponent, gave to the arms of England victory and glory, and to the ruler of her councils complete ultimate success.
To pave the way for the campaign of 1759, a grand conference was held with the Indians, in the October of the preceding year, at Easton, about ninety miles from Philadelphia; there peace was formerly established between England and the several native nations inhabiting the country, which extends from the Apalachian Mountains to the lakes. Some tribes, however, still held aloof. The business of the British agents at this meeting was to ascertain the limits of the several lands about the possession of which disputes had occurred with the natives, to reconcile the bitter hostilities of different tribes against each other, to remove every cause of misunderstanding between the Indians and ourselves, and effectually to detach them from the interests of the French. The conferences were continued from the 8th to the 26th of October, when every article was finally arranged to the satisfaction of all parties. The Indians were then given presents, made drunk, and dismissed to their several dwellings.
General Amherst, and his gallant colleague Admiral Boscawen, had, as the conquerors of Louisburg, received the high honor of thanks from the representatives of a grateful people in the British Parliament. The vigor, ability, and courage displayed by Amherst in the previous year, inspired a universal hope of future success among his countrymen, and all eyes were fixed with deep and sanguine interest on the movements of the formidable armies which he was now to direct against the failing power of the French. But the memory of Abercromby's fatal disaster was still fresh in the English mind, and somewhat damped the rising hopes of conquest and of glory. The difficulties before which he had recoiled, disgraced and ruined, were since increased rather than diminished: the fort of Chambly, which defended the pass by the Richelieu River to the St. Lawrence, had been strengthened and garrisoned by a body of regular troops and militia; Crown Point had been re-enforced, and an increase of vessels had completely given the command of Lake Champlain to the French.
The British colonies were eager in seconding the grand designs of the parent state—designs, indeed, far more important to them than to England. But they found it difficult to keep pace with the expenditure which the great minister's splendid and thriftless conduct of the war rendered necessary. Some reluctance was now expressed, especially in New England, to raise the levies required by the Provincial governments. In the opening of last year's operations it had been promised that a single campaign would suffice to end with success the deadly and ruinous strife. The same promise was now once more offered, but received by no willing ears. The taxes were already excessive, the demand for men most burdensome, and the liberal compensation voted by the British Parliament was still insufficient to remunerate the colonists for past losses and advances, and had been unfortunately so long delayed by official interruptions as to create considerable mistrust and dissatisfaction. It was not without much difficulty that Connecticut was induced to keep up her last year's contingent of 5000 men, and Massachusetts at first declined to raise more than the same number, until prevailed upon by the instances of Amherst, who was universally respected and esteemed. The thinly-peopled state of New Hampshire, however, exceeded her former exertions, and sent no less than 1000 men into the field.
The movements of the last campaign, and the extensive preparations in the British settlements, no longer afforded room for doubt that the aim of England was the annihilation of the power of France in America. The Marquis de Vaudreuil therefore issued a proclamation at the close of the year 1758 to the several officers of Canadian militia, to excite their zeal and quicken their activity in preparations for resistance. "Notwithstanding our glorious successes," said he, "the state of the colony is perilous. The enemy are making great efforts both by sea and land; we must prepare, therefore, to meet them boldly as soon as the season of the year allows them to act. No time must be lost in organizing our defense." He then directed that all the male inhabitants of the province, from sixteen to sixty years of age, should be enrolled in the militia, and should remain in readiness to march at a moment's notice.
The captains of militia faithfully endeavored to comply with these orders, but the farmers, or habitans, showed great disinclination to abandon the cultivation of their fields for the certain hardships and dangers, and the uncertain glories of a soldier's life. Where the levies were efficiently carried out, the country remained waste; the last harvest had been far from abundant, and the rapacious seizures of grain for the real or fictitious wants of the government caused a pinching scarcity. The intendant had arbitrarily fixed the price of wheat at twelve sous the bushel, yet none was sold under a far higher rate. Every device of peculation was resorted to by the unworthy civil officers to increase their gains from the distresses of the people, while the vicious decrees of a corrupted court of law supported instead of curbing them in their iniquities. Dishonest exactions and forced contributions caused a reckless waste of those resources, upon the enjoyment of which no man could confidently count, and the intendant, finding it at length difficult or impossible to obtain the necessary supplies, quartered the troops upon the unfortunate inhabitants.
The misery and distress of the colony at length deepened into absolute famine. Cadet, the commissary-general, by the intendant's orders, killed a number of horses for the use of the inhabitants and troops at Montreal and Quebec. Finally the governor and M. de Montcalm dispatched an officer to France with a detail of the deplorable state of Canada, and an earnest entreaty for succor. This officer, the afterward celebrated De Bougainville, although he had sailed very late in the autumn, escaped the dangers of the season and the vigilance of the British navy, and laid his melancholy dispatch before the throne of France.[163]