The hovering foes pursue the combat far, And shower their balls along the flying war, When the new leader turns his single force, Points the flight forward, speeds his backward course: And the glad Britons quit the fatal field." Thus terminated one of the most disastrous campaigns on the records of history, not only from its immediate consequences, but, by inflaming the passions of a rapacious and vindictive foe, with a victory too easily won, and extensive plunder too readily obtained, they afterwards spread terror, dismay, and death over the unprotected colonies, Virginia and Pennsylvania, accompanied by acts of cruelty, outrage, and fiendish torture, that shock our nature and wound our moral dignity, to think that man should ever fall so low. On the frontier, the French and Indians murdered and captured men, women and children, burning their houses and destroying their crops, until the settlements, in some districts, were entirely broken up. Those who escaped from the barbarous foe, instead of attempting to defend themselves, fled into the lower country, spreading big-eyed alarm, openmouthed terror, and magnified dangers in their progress. Washington, at this critical period, was called upon to defend the frontier; but owing to the want of energy and vigour in the proceedings of the assembly of Virginia, and the universal panic among the people, the means under his control were totally inadequate to the task. He represented to the assembly, that to cover so extensive a frontier, it would be necessary to increase the number of regulars to two thousand men. He, however, preferred another plan, which was to obtain artillery and engineers, or assistance from the mother country, or the other colonies, to drive the enemy from fort Du Quesne. When the enemy had glutted their vengeance, they recrossed the Alleghany mountains, from which they returned the following April (1756), to renew their depredations and murders, in small skulking parties, who could seldom be found until some horrid deed was committed. This fully demon strated the superiority of Washington's plan of raising a force sufficient to strike a blow at the heart of the enemy, by attacking their fort, instead of attempting to scratch or bite his extremities. In speaking of the dreadful calamities among the western inhabitants, Washington, in a letter to the lieutenant-governor, says: "I see their situation, I know their danger, and participate their sufferings, without having it in my power to give them further relief than uncertain promises. In short, I see inevitable destruction in so clear a light, that, unless vigorous measures are taken by the assembly, and speedy assistance sent from below, the poor inhabitants now in forts must unavoidably fall, while the remainder are flying before the barbarous foe. In fine, the melancholy situation of the people, the little prospect of assistance, the gross and scandalous abuses cast upon the officers in general, which is reflecting on me in particular, for suffering misconduct of such extraordinary kind, and the distant prospect, if any, of gaining reputation in the service, cause me to lament the hour that gave me a commission, and would induce me, at any other time than this of imminent danger, to resign, without one hesitating moment, a command from which I never expect to reap either honour or benefit, but, on the contrary, have almost an absolute certainty of incurring displeasure below, while the murder of helpless families may be laid to my account here. "The supplicating tears of the women, and moving petitions of the men melt me with such deadly sorrow, that I solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided that would contribute to the people's ease.' We will now turn away from this melancholy scene before our faces become too much elongated, and inquire after Governor Shirley's expedition against the forts Niagara and Frontinac, and General William Johnson's against Crown Point. And now, ye shades of the illustrious dead, who have wielded the style or the pen in commemoration of the deeds 1 of heroes, grant us your liberality if we fail to record the wonderful deeds of his excellency with that dignity which this august subject demands, and that philosophy to which so prolific a lesson should never fail to direct us! The magnificent conceptions of Homer; the refined majesty of Virgil; the sweetness and elegance of Horace; the bold and sublime effusions of Milton; the graceful and easy style of Addison; the tenderness and sublimity of Ossian; and the natural elegance of Goldsmith, all combined, might do the subject justice! Now, reader, if you find fault with this string of notions on what you may consider too grave a subject, let me tell you, as a friend, before it is too late, that many a clever fellow has died of the blues, for the want of a little risibility under his waistcoat to shake them out at the sides. Cheer up, cheer up, there is no use to make too long a face; though we must confess, matters look rather gloomy just now; but go to work merrily (I mean reading, not fighting), instead of suffering half your energies to be cramped with awful forebodings and poltic nightmares. Remember that Hannibal's whole army laughed-officers and all-just before the battle of Canna, at a good-humoured remark of their chief, and the result of that battle is well known. When Alexander besieged Nyssa, the Macedonians would not advance on account of the depth of the river, until their leader said, "What a wretch am I that I did not learn to swim," and was going to ford it with his shield in his hand. The effect was electrical, and this laughing army, after making one assault, obtained offers of capitulation. When the fate of the American army seemed to depend upon making a retreat from the encampment at Trenton, Washington laughed at an odd remark of old General Scott, who was about to defend the most important and dangerous post. Scott, who thought Washington was gone, said to his men, that they had been shooting too high. "For that reason, boys, whenever you see them fellows first begin to put their feet on this bridge, do you shin 'em.” The bridge was defended, and the army preserved. There are two morals in this digression. The first is, always keep yourself in a good humour by trying to keep others so. The second is, that warriors engaged in a good cause, at least, should always be in good spirits; and why should not we enjoy that luxury while recording, or reflecting on some of the deeds, at least, of these brave and merry fellows? But to resume. The Governor's Campaign.-Deeply impressed with his awful responsibility, he marched his army of 2500 men to Oswego, on Lake Ontario; but the winter being too far advanced, and the provisions scarce, he marched them back again to Albany, and the succeeding spring he was superseded by General Abercrombie, who was appointed to command until the arrival of Loudon. This was the beginning, middle, and end of Governor Shirley's campaign. We do not intend to reflect on the conduct of his excellency: prudence may have been the better part of valour under existing circumstances, especially as the intelligence of Braddock's defeat had spread consternation through the army, occasioning many desertions. This teaches, or ought to teach, an important lesson to those officers who esteem daring intrepidity more, when alone, than if tempered with prudence. Not only did Braddock lose his own army, but damped the spirit of enterprise, for a time, throughout the colonies. History, both ancient and modern, is full of such lessons. Compare the cool, calculating prudence of Fabius Maximus and George Washington, with the headlong impetuosity of C. Terentius Varro and Braddock, and our position is sufficiently illustrated. The expedition against Crown Point, led by General William Johnson, arrived at the south end of Lake George the latter part of August, 1755, where he received intelligence that the enemy, numbering 2000, had landed at Southbay, now Whitehall, under the command of Baron Dieskau, from whence they were marching to fort Edward, to destroy the military stores and provisions of the British. On the morning of September 8th, a detachment of 1200 men, commanded by Colonel Ephraim Williams, was sent against him. Regardless of the advice of Hendrick, the Indian chief, Williams neglected to scour the field by a flank-guard. Having proceeded about four miles, he was surprised by the Indians of Dieskau's army, who were lying in ambush for him. A deadly fire was poured in upon both his flanks. After a dreadful slaughter, during which General Williams himself, and Hendrick, the renowned Mohawk chief, were killed, the detachment retreated. They came running into the camp like a flock of sheep, hotly pursued by the French, who might have carried the camp if they had taken advantage of the great confusion; but making a pause, the English recovered from the disorder and alarm, and were soon prepared to receive the enemy. Dieskau now made a desperate attack, but the English, who were posted behind fallen trees, defended on each side by a woody swamp, gave them such a warm reception, with their cannon and musketry, that their ranks were thrown into disorder. The Canadian militia and Indians fled into the woods, and the whole army was terribly defeated. A scouting party had, at the same time, taken the enemy's baggage; and when the retreating army came up, they made an attack upon it from behind the trees. Panic-stricken by the late defeat and this sudden attack, the soldiers threw down their accoutrements, and were off for the lakes in the utmost confusion. The French loss, in killed and wounded, was about 1000. Dieskau himself was mortally wounded and taken prisoner. He had received a wound in the leg, which rendering him incapable to retreat with the army, he was found by an English soldier seated on a stump. Intending to try bribery to save his life, he commenced feeling for his watch, but the soldier mistaking his intention, and suspecting that he was searching for his pistol, levelled his gun and shot the Baron through the hips. He was now carried to the English camp, where every attention was bestowed upon him. He was next taken to Albany and New York. The injury gradually impaired his health, and he died in consequence of it, at Surene, in France. He was a man of talents, honour, and refinement, and the loss of so distinguished an officer was severely felt by the French. The English loss was only about 200. |