By this time a large military force had been collected in British America, and having no longer any professional occupation there, detachments were made from it against the French West India Islands. Of these expeditions the principal objects were the reduction of St. Pierre and Fort Royal in the island of Martinico, and of Havana in that of Cuba. These campaigns were extremely laborious and perilous, not only by the climate and season, but by the means of defense furnished by nature. In each of these Montgomery had a full share, as well of the toil and danger, as of the commendation bestowed upon efforts, which ultimately triumphed over every kind and degree of resistance. Martinico surrendered in February, 1762, and Havana and the Moro Castle in the August following; two events greatly tending to hasten the treaty of Versailles, which put an end to the war on the 10th of February, 1763. During this siege the loss sustained by the British army amounted to twenty-eight thousand men, besides which, more than half of the troops sent back to New York, either died on the passage or after their arrival.
Of the garrison left at Havana under General Keppel, but seven hundred men were found fit for duty at the peace. Soon after the official annunciation of peace, Montgomery, who with the seventeenth regiment, had returned to New York, sought and obtained permission to return to England, where he remained until the close of the year 1772. Although the military abilities of Montgomery were highly distinguished, war and conquest had no other charms to him than as the means of peace and happiness to mankind, and he found leisure in the midst of camps to cultivate an excellent taste for philosophy and polite literature.
To these he added a careful study of the arts of government and the rights of mankind, looking forward to that time when he might return to the still scenes of private life, and give a full flow to the native and acquired virtues of a heart rich in moral excellence. He had formed an early attachment, amounting even to an enthusiastic love for this country.
The woodland and the plain; the face of Nature, grand, venerable, and yet rejoicing in her prime; our mighty rivers, descending in vast torrents through wild and shaggy mountains, or gliding in silent majesty through fertile vales; their numerous branches and tributary springs; our romantic scenes of rural quiet; our simplicity, then uncorrupted by luxury or flagrant vice; our love of knowledge and ardor for liberty—all these served to convey the idea of primeval felicity to a heart which was fraught with benevolent feelings.
It was during his residence of nine years in England, that the controversy between Great Britain and her American colonies commenced. This he watched with a jealous eye, and at last fancied he saw enough to cause him to abandon the King’s service, and to seek America as his future and permanent home. He accordingly sold the commission he then held, and in January, 1772, arrived in New York.
Very soon after his arrival he selected a delightful spot on the banks of the Hudson river, in the state of New York, purchased a farm there, and expected to retire from the bustle of a noisy world. The following year he married a daughter of Robert R. Livingston, then one of the judges of the superior court of the province.
In this most eligible of all situations, the life of a country gentleman, deriving its most exquisite relish from reflections upon dangers and past services, he gave full scope to his philosophical spirit and taste for rural elegance. Satisfied with himself, and raised above all vulgar ambition, he devoted his time to domestic pursuits, the intercourse of a select society, the study of useful books, and the improvement of his villa. But neither wood nor lawn could make him forget the duties which he owed to society. When the hand of unlawful authority was stretched forth, Montgomery was ready to exchange his peaceful groves for the tented field. From that fatal day in which the first American blood was spilt by the bands of British brethren, and the better genius of the empire turned abhorrent from the strife of death among her children, our hero chose his part. In this state of things, the National Congress employed itself in June, 1775, in organizing an army, and, among other acts, appointed a commander-in-chief, four major-generals, and eight brigadiers.
Of the latter description Montgomery was one. This unequivocal mark of distinction, conferred by the highest acknowledged authority of the country, without solicitation or privity on his part, was received by him with a homage mingled with regret, apparently foreboding the catastrophe which was soon to follow.
In a letter to a friend he says—“The Congress having done me the honor of electing me a brigadier-general in their service, is an event which must put an end for a while, perhaps forever, to the quiet scheme of life I had prescribed for myself; for, though entirely unexpected and undesired by me, the will of an oppressed people, compelled to choose between liberty and slavery, must be obeyed.” Under these noble and self-sacrificing views and feelings, Montgomery accepted the commission tendered to him, and from that hour to the moment of his death, the whole force of his mind and body was devoted to the honor and interest of his adopted country. His principles of loyalty remained unshaken. Love to our brethren whom we must oppose, the interchange of good offices, which had so intimately knit the bands of friendship between the two members, the memory of those days in which we fought under the same banners; the vast fabric of mutual happiness raised by our union, and ready to be dissolved by our dissensions; the annihilation of those plans of improvement in which we were engaged for the glory of the empire—all these considerations conspired to render this conflict peculiarly abhorrent to him and every virtuous American, and could have been outweighed by nothing earthly but the unquenchable love of liberty, and that sacred duty which we owe to ourselves and our posterity.