Five English captives were released from slavery by this success, and taken under the protection of their countrymen. The loss to the victors was very slight; one friendly Indian was killed, and Captain Ogden, with six men, were wounded. The situation of the little detachment was, however, most perilous; the prisoners informed Major Rogers that a party of 300 French, with some savages, had discovered and seized his boats, down the river, about four miles from the village of St. François. He could not doubt the truth of this unwelcome news, for they told him the exact number of his boats, and described the place where they had been left. He also learned that another force of 200 French and 15 Indians lay in wait for him higher up the stream. The English officers held a hurried council on their almost desperate position, and agreed unanimously that the only chance of safety lay in a return to the British settlements by the upper branches of the Connecticut River. This route was attended with toils and hardships well-nigh incredible.
Rogers marched his detachment for eight successive days to the southeast without interruption, but provisions began to fail, and it became necessary to divide his people into small parties, that each might provide for themselves as they best could. A guide was appointed to every division, and they parted near the beautiful shores of Lake Memphremagog, with orders to reassemble at the point where the Amansook pours into the Connecticut River: there the provident chief had before caused a dépôt of provisions to be prepared. Major Rogers and his party reached the place of meeting in safety on the 5th of November, worn out with fatigue and cold, and almost famished.
Another party, commanded by Lieutenant George Campbell, of the Rangers, underwent trials more severe than any of their companions had suffered. At one time they were four days without a morsel of food; they had wandered from the direct route, and knew not whither they went. The weak in mind went mad from suffering and despair; the weak in body sank. They had already devoured their leather straps, and the covers of their cartouch boxes: no resource, and but a faint glimmering of hope remained. At length, on the 28th of October, in crossing a small stream dammed up with logs, they espied some human bodies, scalped and horribly mangled, probably the corpses of their companions. Their furious hunger knew no restraint; they did not wait even for a fire to prepare the ghastly banquet, but ate like beasts of prey; then collecting carefully the remnants, pursued their journey. A squirrel and a few roots helped to keep them alive till the 4th of November, when, to their unutterable joy, they saw a boat on the Connecticut River, sent by Rogers to their relief. On the 7th they rejoined their companions.
We must now return to the insignificant conclusion of General Amherst's campaign. On the 10th of October, the brig arrived from Ticonderoga with eighteen guns; seventy seamen and sixty soldiers embarked as marines. The following day the little fleet was completed by the arrival of the new sloop carrying sixteen guns, sixty sailors, and fifty soldiers, under the command of Lieutenant Grant, of Montgomery's Highlanders. In the afternoon the troops embarked for Isle aux Noix in the bateaux; the armed vessels got out first, and sailed up the lake with a fair wind, the army following in four divisions. As night fell, lights were hoisted on board the brigantine and Great Radeau, to guide the expedition. In the gray of the morning, some guns were suddenly heard in the advance, and a message was sent to the general that his armed vessels were in action with those of the French. He hastened to the front, and soon discovered the mistake. The bateaux containing a wing of the 42d Regiment, under Major Reid, had gone astray in the night, and got unexpectedly among the enemy's sloops; the first light of day revealed the dangerous error, and they happily ran the gauntlet of the French guns in safety. One boat, however, with a lieutenant and twenty men, being very far in advance, could not effect an escape, and was captured. The enemy's squadron, content with this small advantage, crowded all sail, and disappeared among the numerous islands. Toward the evening of the 12th the wind increased, and the waters of the lake rose into formidable waves; the light bateaux and clumsy rafts were equally unfit to face this boisterous weather. The general was most unwillingly compelled to order the expedition to seek the shelter of a neighboring bay on the western shore, where commodious anchorage opportunely offered. The troops were then landed, and allowed to stretch their cramped limbs, while Gage's Light Infantry scoured the adjacent forest to guard against surprise; at the same time, the Rangers disembarked on an island that commanded the entrance of the harbor, and overlooked the lake. Meanwhile, despite the angry skies, Captain Loring, with the armed vessels, still stoutly kept at sea, and strove with untiring zeal to bring the enemy to action. At daylight in the morning he had caught sight of a French schooner, about forty-five miles down the lake, and crowded all sail in her pursuit; but, ignorant of the navigation in those strange waters, he had run two of his vessels ashore. After much exertion, however, he succeeded in getting them off. At length, to his great joy, he espied three hostile sloops, and immediately gave chase with all the sail he could carry. The French, finding escape impossible, ran for a small bay on the western shore, drove one of the vessels aground, and sunk the two others. The crews, under their commandant, M. de Bolabarras, made their escape through the woods, after having encountered extreme difficulty and hardship.
The deepening shades of evening prevented the English from seeing the catastrophe of the enemy's squadron, and rendered it difficult or impossible for them to pursue into the rocky shallows; they therefore prepared as they best could to brave out the stormy night, and cast anchor at the entrance of the bay. When daylight came they saw the abandoned vessels; the French schooner, however, had escaped. Captain Loring left Lieutenant Grant with the sloop to endeavor to save the stranded vessel, with her guns, stores, and rigging; he himself again put out into the lake in pursuit of the only hostile sail now left upon the waters.
The storm continued to the 15th of October; on the 16th there was frost; on the 17th a contrary wind again rose. During all this time General Amherst was forced to remain inactive. Every hour was precious; the fate of the campaign, his fame and England's interests might have hung upon his movements, and he did not stir. By flags of truce and letters of ceremony from the hostile chief, he had received information, vaguely, that a British fleet lay before Quebec; that combats had been fought, and blood had freely flowed; and while the balance of victory trembled under the walls of the great stronghold, he, with his overwhelming power, lay helpless, as in a nightmare, on the banks of the stormy lake.[170]
On the 18th the waters became somewhat calmer, and a south wind blew gently up Lake Champlain. Amherst made one other effort; the troops were once more hurried into the bateaux, and the expedition pushed on to the north. They reached in a few hours the bay where the French vessels had been driven ashore a few days previously; there again, however, the uncertain winds veered round; the clouds darkened in the north, and a chill blast swept down the lake, plowing the angry waters. The British general was now finally baffled; winter had almost commenced; he had no hope of grappling with the enemy before the season closed; the fate of Quebec must, ere then, have been decided; there was much to risk and little to gain by another effort upon the lakes. Nothing was left but to prepare for the inglorious step of disposing his army in winter quarters. Amherst therefore fell back upon Crown Point on the 21st, directed the completion of the defenses, made roads and bridges, and nursed the Provincials, who had become uncommonly sickly. Thus ended his campaign.
FOOTNOTES:
[166] This is the Fort George marked in modern maps, nearly on the same spot where Fort William Henry formerly stood.
[167] "Four hundred of these young troops (Provincials) are to be stationed here.... The privates are a poor, mean, ragged set of men, of all sizes and ages; their officers are sober, modest men, and such of them as have been upon service express themselves very distinctly and sensibly; but their ideas, like those who have not been out of their own country, or conversed much with Europeans, are naturally confined; they make a decent appearance, being clothed in blue, faced with scarlet, gilt buttons, laced waistcoats and hats; but their ordinary soldiers have no uniforms, nor do they affect any kind of regularity."—Knox's Historical Journal, vol. i., p. 237.