Meanwhile the besieged, though hardly pressed, were still buoyed up with the hope of relief from their advancing countrymen. On the 23d four savages made their way into the fort with a letter to M. Bouchet, informing him that MM. d'Aubry and De Lignières were at hand with 1200 Frenchmen and a still larger force of Indians, and that they were about to attack the British lines. On the result of this attack hung the fate of Niagara and of all the Western country which still owned the sway of France: preparations were made to second it with all the efforts of the garrison. The cause of the French was, however, already all but desperate; the feeble defenses of the fort shook and crumbled under the heavy and increasing fire of their enemies. An overpowering artillery forbade the approach of their vessel from the lake. The beleaguering trenches intruded within 100 yards of their parapets, and gave shelter to swarms of British and Indian marksmen. The little garrison was worn by toil and wasted by death; the barracks and dwellings were ruined by shot and shell; and, worst of all, the apparently favorable chance in the death of the besieging general had only transferred the conduct of the attack to hands even more able and skillful than those of the deceased. It was true that the French detachment, then about to risk all for their relief, were brave and veteran troops; but their numbers were hopelessly inadequate, and little dependence could be placed in the politic and faithless savages who marched with them, more to witness than to contribute to their success or defeat.
On the other hand, Sir William Johnson had received ample notice of De Aubry's approach, and, confident in his own strength and ability, made steady preparation for the combat. His great superiority of force enabled him to leave the trenches crowded with troops, chiefly Provincials, while he marched out to overwhelm the advancing enemy. About sunset on the evening of the 23d, he pushed forward strong pickets, and the light companies of the regular regiments, into the woods on either side of the rude track leading from Niagara Falls to the Fort, and scattered small parties of Indians on the flanks of the Europeans. Having posted their sentries, and no enemy being yet visible, Johnson's advance lay down to rest upon their arms. Never, perhaps, has a stranger scene been witnessed than the banks of the Niagara River presented on that September night: the dark ramparts of the fort, every now and then illumined by the flash of the defenders' guns, or suddenly revealed by the red light of a salvo from the hostile trenches; in the open plain beyond, the white tents and the huts of the besieging army; and further on, the watch-fires of the advanced guard throwing their flickering glare upon the lofty arches of the forest, and upon the scattered groups of the British soldiery and Indian warriors. Away, still further to the west, unseen in the gloomy woods, the weak but gallant troops of France slept the sleep which most of them were to know no more. High over all, the soft, misty spray from the neighboring cataract stood like a huge pillar of lightest summer clouds up against the sky, while the dull, deep roar of falling waters filled the air with a solemn and unceasing voice.
At daylight on the 24th Sir William Johnson advanced his Grenadier companies and part of the 46th regiment, under Lieutenant-colonel Massey, to strengthen his front, while the 44th regiment, under Lieutenant-colonel Farquhar, kept up the communication with Major Beckwith, who commanded the troops in the trenches, and remained in readiness to throw their force wherever aid might be required. These judicious dispositions being made, the British awaited the approach of the enemy.
At about eight o'clock the leading files of the French were first perceived advancing through the woods, flanked by large bodies of Indians; as they came on, the English outposts fell back on the reserves steadily, and without firing. In the mean time, the Iroquois, serving under Johnson, endeavored to parley with the Canadian savages, with a view of inducing them to make peace; these overtures were, however, unsuccessful, and the warriors of the Five Nations fell back on the flanks of the British. By nine o'clock D'Aubry's force was formed, and the order immediately given for the attack. With furious gestures and terrible impetuosity, the Indians burst through the woods and fell upon the English lines as they rushed to the charge, shouting the appalling war-cry which had once struck terror into their foes; but it fell upon accustomed ears: they were received with a calm front and steady fire. The Grenadiers of the 44th, who had received a dreadful lesson in savage warfare under the unfortunate Braddock, now bore the shock unmoved, and, stoutly supported by the 46th, with a few rolling volleys they swept away the fierce assailants. So complete was the discomfiture of the red warriors that they rallied no more, and so sudden their disappearance from the scene of strife that the French could only attribute it to treachery which had prearranged defeat.
Undismayed by the dispersion of his allies, the gallant D'Aubry led on his men against the besiegers' position, now strengthened by a force of Provincials from the trenches. The attack was vigorously and bravely pushed, but failed to shake the steady courage of the British troops; meanwhile Johnson's Indians made their way through the woods, and fell upon the flanks of the French. Attacked on all sides, deserted by allies, outnumbered by foes, the assailants hesitated, gave way, and in little more than half an hour broke into utter rout. D'Aubry and all his surviving officers were taken, with a great part of his troops; the remainder were pursued with deadly zeal, and slain or driven into the wilderness.
It was not until two o'clock in the day that Pouchot and his garrison were informed that the firing heard in the morning had ended in the ruin of their hopes of succor. With great difficulty and danger, an Indian had passed the besiegers' lines and borne them the unwelcome intelligence of D'Aubry's defeat and capture. From the earliest dawn, deep excitement had reigned in the beleaguered fort; while the shades of night still lingered under the tall forest trees, flashes of scattered musketry had occasionally burst forth. As the morning advanced, the dropping shots quickened into the sharp rattle of a skirmish, the sounds still approaching the besieged, and stimulating hopes of aid. A little before nine o'clock the skirmish had breezed up into a battle; for half an hour the line of fire waved to and fro, now bent toward the fort, again receded up the banks of the Great River, then held pertinaciously to a woody hollow, and at length fell back into the forest, became broken, interrupted, indistinct, and disappeared. With it vanished the last chance of succor for the garrison of Niagara.
When the first ardor of the pursuit had abated, and Sir William Johnson had got his forces somewhat in hand again, he sent Major Harvey with a flag of truce to inform the French chief of the morning's events, and to exhort him to surrender without further bloodshed, conveying also a terrible hint that in a little time he might not be able to restrain the fierce vengeance of his Indian allies. Pouchot yet doubted, or affected to doubt, the truth of the woeful disaster which had befallen his countrymen, and, still endeavoring to gain time, requested that one of his officers might be allowed to see the prisoners, and hear the tale of defeat from their own lips. The request was granted, the facts were ascertained, and, no further excuse for procrastination suggesting itself, the stubborn Frenchman then surrendered with his fort and garrison.[172]
The terms of capitulation were liberal, and worthy of both conquerors and conquered. It was agreed that the French troops should march out with the honors of war from the ramparts they had so well defended, and lay down their arms on the banks of the lake. There they were to embark immediately in vessels provided by Sir William Johnson, and to be carried to New York by the shortest and easiest route. The French ladies, and all females and children, were offered safe conveyance, subsistence, and escort to the nearest port of France: and the sick and wounded men were to be carefully tended till able to travel, when they were to rejoin their comrades. The victors undertook to protect their prisoners from every insult or injury, in person and in property. All stores, provisions, and arms, with every thing belonging to his most Christian majesty, were to be delivered up in strict faith by M. Pouchot. At seven o'clock in the morning of the 26th of July, a British guard was to take possession of the fort gates.
Accordingly, a little before mid-day on the 26th, the French garrison, 607 strong, marched out from the lost stronghold. Drums were beating, colors flying, and bayonets fixed; but the downcast and sullen looks of the bronzed veterans showed that these "honors of war" were but a mockery to their dejected hearts. Many a glance of angry sorrow and embittered regret was cast back upon the magnificent scene they were to revisit no more; never again was the "spotless flag" to flaunt its ample folds upon the breezes of the Western lakes; never again were the martial strains of France to sound through the majestic roar of nature's grandest wonder. A sufficient British guard attended under arms to keep the fierce and vindictive Indians at a distance. But the humane and extraordinary influence which Sir William Johnson exercised over the minds of his savage followers proved more effectual in restraining their ferocious passions than any mere show of force. The fear of alienating the allegiance of his Indians weighed not a feather weight in his loyal heart when the cause of mercy and his plighted word were at stake. For the successful exercise of his well-earned power over the red warriors, he must, upon this occasion, ever stand in most favorable contrast with Montcalm, his more brilliant rival.
Every article of the capitulation of Niagara was strictly observed in spirit and in letter: no insulting triumph dimmed the honor of British victory, but a demeanor of respectful sympathy with the vanquished characterized the gallant conquerors throughout the embarkation and all subsequent proceedings.