Johnson now summoned a council of war, which recommended the rash step of dispatching a force of 1000 men and the Mohawk Indians to check the enemy: Colonel Ephraim Williams was placed in command of the detachment. Hardly had they advanced three miles from the camp, when suddenly they were almost surrounded by the French, and, after a gallant but hopeless combat, utterly routed, with the loss of their leader, Hendrick, the Indian chief, and many of the men. The victors, although they had also suffered in the sharp encounter, pursued with spirit, till checked near the camp by Colonel Cole and 300 men, sent by Johnson in the direction of the firing. By this delay the British were enabled to strengthen their defenses, and to recover, in some measure, from the confusion of their disaster. The most vigorous efforts of the officers were needed to overcome the panic caused by Williams's defeat and death, and by their ignorance of the advancing enemy's force.
After a brief pause, Dieskau made a spirited attack upon the British intrenchments, but his Canadians and Indians were suddenly checked by Johnson's guns;[47] they at once gave way, and, inclining to the right and left, contented themselves with keeping up a harmless fire on the flanks of the works. The French regulars, however, bravely maintained their ground, although surprised by the strength of Johnson's position, and damped by finding it armed with artillery. But they could not long bear the brunt alone; after several gallant attacks, the few remaining still unhurt also dispersed in the forest, leaving their leader mortally wounded on the field.[48] Early in the action General Johnson had received a painful wound, and was obliged unwillingly to retire to his tent; the command then devolved upon Lyman, who pursued the routed enemy for a short distance with great slaughter. The French loss in this disastrous action was little short of 800 men, and their regular troops were nearly destroyed.
The Canadians and Indians, who had fled almost unharmed, halted that evening at the scene of Williams's defeat to scalp the dead and dying. Finding they were not molested, they prepared for rest and refreshment, and even debated upon the renewal of the attack. The heavy loss already sustained by the English (upward of 200 men), and the consequent disorganization, prevented them from following up their victory: this forced inaction had well-nigh proved the destruction of 120 men sent from Fort Edward to their aid under Captain Macginnis. This gallant officer, however, had secured his march by every proper precaution, and was warned by his scouts that he was close upon the spot where the still formidable enemy was bivouacked. He promptly formed his little band, and sustained a sharp engagement for nearly two hours, extricating his detachment at length with little loss, and much honor to himself. The brave young man was, however, mortally wounded, and died three days afterward in Johnson's camp. The remnant of the French army then dispersed, and sought shelter at Ticonderoga.[49]
Though the brilliance of this success was obscured by the somewhat timid inaction that followed,[50] the consequences were of great importance. The English troops, it must be owned, were become so accustomed to defeat and disaster, that they went into action spiritless and distrustful. Now that a formidable force of the enemy had yielded to their prowess, confidence began to revive, and gradually strengthened into boldness. Had the French been successful in their attack, the results would have been most disastrous for the British colonies: nothing would have remained to arrest their progress into the heart of the country, or stem the tide of ruin that had followed on their track. The value of this unusual triumph on the Western continent was duly felt in England: a baronetcy by royal favor, and a grant of £5000 by a grateful Parliament, rewarded the successful general.
General Johnson turned his attention immediately after the battle to strengthen the position he had successfully held, with the view of securing the frontiers from hostile incursion when he should retire into winter quarters. The fort called William Henry[51] was forthwith constructed by his orders; guns were mounted, and a regiment of Provincial troops, with a company of rangers, left to garrison it and Fort Edward. On the 24th of December Johnson fell back to Albany, and from thence dispersed the remainder of his army to their respective provinces. In the mean time, Captain Rogers, a daring and active officer, made repeated demonstrations against the French in the neighborhood of Crown Point,[52] cut off many of their detached parties, and obtained constant intelligence of their proceedings. By these means it was known that the French had assembled a force of no less than 2000 men, with a proportion of artillery, and a considerable body of Indians, at Ticonderoga; the British were therefore obliged to use every vigilance to secure themselves against sudden attack from their formidable enemies, and to hasten, by all means in their power, the preparations for defense.
The fatal consequences of the unfortunate Braddock's defeat were rapidly developed in the southwestern frontiers. The French were aroused by success to an unusual spirit of enterprise, and, together with the Indians, they carried destruction into the remote and scattered hamlets of the British settlements. To put an end to these depredations, the government of Virginia marched 500 men to garrison Fort Cumberland, and 160 more to the southern branch of the Potomac, lately the scene of a cruel massacre. But these isolated efforts were of little more than local and temporary advantage; as the marauders were checked or baffled in one district, they poured with increased ferocity upon another. The province of Pennsylvania now became their foray-ground; and the inhabitants, the faithful but fanatic men of peace, actually denied all assistance to their governor for defense, and zealously preached against any warlike preparations, recommending patience and forbearance as the best means of securing their properties and lives.
This fatal delusion was not even dispelled by the intelligence that 1400 Indians and 100 French were already mustered on the banks of the Susquehanna, only eighty miles from Philadelphia, with the object of again dividing and sweeping the whole country in separate parties. Soon after, news arrived that the peaceful and prosperous settlement of Great Cove was utterly destroyed, and all the inhabitants massacred or carried into captivity. Still the men of peace refused to use the arm of flesh. The spirited governor in vain urged the necessity of action upon his unmanageable Assembly, till the sudden arrival of some hundreds of ruined fugitives strengthened his argument. These unfortunates crowded to the State House, dragging a wagon loaded with the dead and mutilated bodies of their friends, who had been scalped by the Indians at a place only sixty miles distant; they threw the bleeding corpses at the door, and threatened violence if their demands for protection and revenge were not instantly complied with. The Assembly, either moved by their distress, or overawed by their menaces, at length gave up its scruples, and passed a bill to call out the militia and appropriate £62,000 to the expenses of the war.
It must be said, at the same time, that the other English colonies, where no such scruples as those of the Quakers existed, were far from being active or united in raising supplies of men and money for their common safety. Those, however, where danger was most imminent, addressed strong and spirited appeals to their rulers for protection and support, and denounced in vigorous language the aggressions and usurpations of the French. These remonstrances had at length the desired effect of disposing the minds of the local authorities to second the views of the court of London for curbing the advances of Canadian power. On the 12th of December, 1755, a grand council of war was assembled at New York, consisting of as many provincial governors and superior officers as could be collected for the purpose. General Shirley presided, and laid before them the instructions which had been given to Braddock, his unfortunate predecessor. He exerted himself with energy and success to create a good understanding among the several governments, and was particularly happy in effecting a union for mutual protection and support between the important states of New England and New York. He also succeeded in regaining to his cause many of the Indians, who had either already gone over to the French or withdrawn to a cold neutrality.
The measures Shirley now proposed to the council were in accordance with the tenor of General Braddock's instructions; they were cheerfully assented to by that body, through his successful negotiations. It was agreed to strengthen the naval force on Lake Ontario, and to form an army of 6000 men upon its shores, while 10,000 more were to be directed against the French intrenchments at Ticonderoga. Another attempt was also proposed upon Fort du Quesne, and a movement against the Canadian settlements on the Chaudière, provided that these schemes should not interfere with the main objects of the war. The council then unanimously gave their opinion that a re-enforcement of regular soldiers was indispensable for the assertion and security of the British sovereign's rights on the American continent.
The English government,[53] though sensible of General Shirley's abilities as a negotiator, had not sufficient confidence in his military capacity to intrust him with the execution of extensive warlike operations. The command in chief of all the forces in America was therefore conferred upon the Earl of Loudon, a nobleman of amiable character, who had already distinguished himself in the service of his country.[54]