French and English: A Story of the Struggle in America

"I am not English," answered the maiden, with a smile; "I am French upon my father's side, and my mother was a Scotchwoman. I have lived in Scotland, where I learned your tongue; and I always spoke it with my mother so long as she lived. It is as easy to me as my father's French."

"And how come you to this wild spot in the heart of these forests, and with warfare all around?"

"I will tell you that, too. My father has always been a man of action, who has loved travel and adventure. Since the outbreak of this war in the west he has longed to be in the midst of it. He is something of a soldier, and something of a statesman, and he is the friend of many great ones at Court, and has been entrusted before now with missions requiring skill and tact. He is also the kinsman of the Marquis of Montcalm, whose name no doubt you know by this time."

"He is the new military commander sent out by the King of France, to take the lead in the war now commenced in Canada and along the border between France and England," answered Stark promptly.

"Yes; and my father and uncle came out with him, and my brother and I also. My uncle is the good Abbe Messonnier; but you will not have heard of him, though he is well known and well beloved in France. My father has certain work to do here the nature of which I do not fully know, nor could I divulge if I did. We arrived at Quebec a short time ago, and thence we moved on to Montreal. But it was needful for my father and uncle to visit some of these outposts, and we begged, Colin and I, not to be left behind. We burned with curiosity to see the strange sights of which we had heard-the Indians in their war paint, the great forests and lakes, the forts and their garrisons, and all the wonders of the west.

"So they brought us in their company. My father takes me everywhere with him that he can. Since my mother's death he seems unable to lose sight of me. We have been hard upon a month at the fort now. We are learning all we can of the condition of affairs, to report to the Marquis when we return to Montreal or to Quebec. He himself talks of coming to command here when the time comes for the attack to be made upon your fort; but that will scarcely be yet, for there is so much he has to set in order in Canada. Oh, the way things are managed there-it is a disgrace!"

"Is Canada weak then?" asked Stark, burning with curiosity for information on the subject.

The girl slowly shook her head.

"Perhaps I ought not to talk with you, since you are the enemies of my countrymen. And, in sooth, I know little enough to tell. I hear one say this and one the other, and I cannot know where the truth lies. But of one thing they are very certain and confident-that they will drive out the English from all these western outposts, and will keep them shut in between the mountains and the sea; and that France alone shall rule this mighty continent of giant forests and rivers, undisturbed by any foreign foe. Of that all men are confident."

The Rangers exchanged glances, and the girl saw it.

"You do not believe me," she said quickly; "but, indeed, I have heard so many strange things that I know not what to believe myself. Strangest of all is that white men should call upon those terrible savage Indians to war with them against their white brethren. That, as my good uncle says, is a disgrace to humanity. Ah! I would you could have heard him speak to the officers at yonder fort since his arrival there. They brought in a few prisoners a few days after we came. They were going to cook and eat them-to treat them-oh, I cannot think of it! My uncle went to the officers, and bid them interfere; but they only shrugged their shoulders, and said they must not anger the Indians, or they would desert, and become even more troublesome than they are already. He got them out of their hands himself, and sent them safely to Montreal; and oh, how he spoke to the French soldiers and officers afterwards! He said that such wicked disregard of the bond betwixt Christian and Christian must inevitably draw down the wrath of Heaven upon those who practised it, and that no cause could prosper where such things were permitted.

"I have heard things since I have been here that have filled my heart with sorrow and anger. I have been ashamed of my countrymen! I have felt that our foes are nobler than ourselves, and that God must surely arise and fight for them if these abominations are suffered to continue."

The Rangers were silent; they well knew what she meant. The French were culpably weak where the Indians were concerned, permitting them almost without remonstrance to burn their prisoners from the English lines, and even after engagements leaving the English dead and wounded to the Indians and the wolves, though the English always buried the French dead with their own when they had been in like circumstances, and had showed kindness to their wounded.

"The Indians are the plague of the lives of men and officers alike," continued the girl, breaking forth in animated fashion. "They eat up a week's rations in three days, and come clamouring for more. They make rules for the English which they will not observe themselves. They are insolent and disgusting and treacherous. Oh, I cannot think how our people bear it! I would sooner lose all than win through using such tools. I hate to think of victory obtained by such means. You Rangers are brave men; though men dread you, yet they respect you, and would fain imitate your prowess. The Indians are devils-I can find no other name for them. They are fiends, and I verily think that evil will befall us if we league ourselves with them. Thus my uncle tries to teach; but they will not listen to his words."

"Time will show, lady," answered Fritz; "and there are Indians who are gentle and tamable, and are some of them even sincere believers in our Christian faith. I have seen and lived among such in the lands of the south. But here they have been corrupted by the vices of those who should teach them better. It is a disgrace to England and France alike that this should be so."

At this moment the sound of shouting and yelling arose from the forest, and some shots were fired in close succession. The girl started to her feet, looking white and scared; but Fritz and Stark stood close beside her, one on either hand, as if to assure her that no harm should befall her.

The next moment a fair-haired youth, with a strong likeness to the girl, came dashing blindly through the forest, calling her name in accents of frantic fear.

"Corinne, Corinne, Corinne! Where are you? Hide yourself! Have a care! The Rangers are upon us!"

"I am here, Colin. I am safe!" she cried, in her flute-like accents-"I am here all safe. The Rangers are taking care of me. See!"

He pulled up short, blinded and breathless. He had come tearing back to his sister's aid, full of remorse at having been tempted to leave her for a moment in the pleasure of the chase. He stood panting, staring at the strange group, unable to get out a word.

"Call the men in," said Stark, addressing Charles, who had remained silent all the while; "tell them to hurt no one-to make no captures. This lady's escort is to remain unmolested. Bring them here, and we will deliver them their charge safe and sound."

With alacrity Charles disappeared upon his errand. The old tender-heartedness of the man always returned when he saw anything young and helpless. There was no fierceness in his strange face today, and Corinne, looking after him, said wonderingly:

"Who is he? he looks like one who has seen a ghost!"

In a few terse phrases Fritz told the outline of Charles's story, and how he himself with his companion had found the hapless man and his brother.

"Oh, this war is a terrible thing!" cried Corinne, pressing her hands together. "It makes men into devils, I think. Ah, why can we not live at peace and concord with our brothers? Surely out here, in these wild lands, French and English might join hands, and live as brothers instead of foes."

"I fear me," said Fritz, looking out before him with wide gaze, "that that time is far enough away-that it will never come until the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdom of our God and of His Christ, when He shall reign for ever and ever."

She looked at him in quick surprise. She had not expected to hear such words in the mouth of one of Rogers' Rangers.

"I have heard my uncle speak so," she said slowly; "but the soldiers think of nothing but fighting and conquest."

"We used to think much of that day down in my southern home. We were taught to look for the day of the Lord and the coming of Christ. But men were even there growing weary and impatient. The strife of parties was spoiling our home. That is why so many of us journeyed forth to see the world. But I do not forget what my forefathers taught and believed."

There was a light of quick sympathy in the girl's eyes; but she had no time to reply, for the Rangers were coming back, with the French soldiers in their company. They had surprised the whole band, and had practically made them prisoners when Charles came up with his strange message, and they marched them along to see what it all meant.

Great was their astonishment when they saw the golden-haired girl with her fearless bearing, and the handsome lad standing beside her, still breathless and bewildered.

"Release these men," said Stark briefly; "they have been told off for the service of this lady. Let them resume their charge, and return in safety to the fort, or continue their chase in the forest at pleasure. We do not war with women.

"If you wish to see some pretty hunting, Mistress Corinne, Rogers' Rangers are at your service, and the haunts of bird and beast are well known to us."

The girl's eyes sparkled. She was as full of the love of adventure as any boy could be. She looked at her brother, but he shook his head in doubt.

"I think our father would not wish it," he said. "I thank these gentlemen most gratefully for their courtesy and chivalry, but I think we must be returning to the fort. It may be that the shots will have been heard, and that soldiers may be coming in search of us already.

"We shall not forget your kindness, sir. I trust the day will come when we may be able to requite you in kind;" and he held out his hand, first to Stark and then to Fritz.

Corinne had looked a little mutinous at first; but when her brother spoke of a possible sortie across the water from the fort, her face changed. Perhaps she was not quite so confident of the chivalry of the French soldiers as she had been of that of the Rangers.

"Perhaps it is best so; yet I should have loved to scour the forest with Rogers' Rangers.

"Are you the great Rogers himself?" she asked, turning to Stark, and then letting her glance wander to Fritz's fine face.

"No, Mistress Corinne; Rogers himself is away farther afield," answered Stark. "This is Fritz Neville, and I am John Stark, whom he honours with the title of his lieutenant."

"Fritz Neville-John Stark," she repeated, looking from one to the other, a smile in her frank, sweet eyes. "I shall not forget those names. I shall say them over every day to myself, and pray that in times of warfare the saints will watch over and protect the brave English Rangers, who had us as prisoners in their power, and let us go away safe and sound."

She held out her hand as she spoke, first to one and then to the other of the men, both of whom took it reverently, pressed it, and bowed low with a sort of rude homage. The other Rangers sent up a little cheer for the brave young lady who spoke their tongue so well; and the French soldiers, who looked a little ashamed of the predicament in which they had placed themselves, smiled, and became friendly and at ease, realizing that all was well.

"We will escort you to your boat, lady," said Stark; "you will suffer us that privilege."

"Ah yes, if it will be safe. But they will not dare fire from the fort when they see that our company is returning. I would I could take you back with me, and introduce you to my father and uncle; but perchance it would not be safe."

"Perhaps we shall make their acquaintance some other way!" said Stark, with a touch of grim humour; and Corinne, understanding him, exclaimed:

"Ah, do not let us think of that! let us only remember that we have met as friends in the wild forest."

"A pleasant memory truly," answered Stark gallantly, "and one so new to a Ranger that he will never be like to forget it;" and as they pursued their way towards the lake, he held the youth and the girl spellbound and breathless by tales of the strange life of adventure which they led, and by detailing some of their hairbreadth escapes from the hands of Indians and Frenchmen as they scoured the forest, lay in ambush, and skulked beneath the very ramparts of the enemy's fortifications, hearing the talk of the sentries overhead.

"Nay, but you are brave men in sooth; you deserve success. The fortunes of war must surely be yours at last," cried Corinne, with covert enthusiasm.

"Ah! here is the lake, and here is our boat. Nay, come not further. I fear lest hurt should come to you. I thank you again with all my heart. Perhaps the day will come when we shall see each other again. I would fain believe that I shall meet again with Rogers' bold, chivalrous Rangers."

"It may be-it may be," answered Stark, with a smile. "Farewell, sweet Mistress Corinne; may you come safely through all perils by land and water. Your brave spirit will carry you well through life's troubled sea, I think."

She smiled, and stepped into the boat. Then suddenly turning and waving her hand, she said:

"I will tell you one thing which my uncle has said. Whether he will be a true prophet or no I cannot tell. His words are these, and they were spoken to M. de Montcalm: 'You are safe now, for England is governed by an imbecile-the Duke of Newcastle-a minister without parts, understanding, or courage. But there is another man in England of a different calibre. If ever you hear that Pitt is at the head of the administration, then look to your laurels; for, if I be not greatly deceived, that man has brain and energy to turn the whole tide of battle. Three years after he begins to rule England's policy, and France will have begun to lose her empire in the West!'"

Chapter 4: Vengeance And Disaster

The episode of Corinne, and the prophecy she had quoted to them, formed one of the bright episodes in a year which brought little success or relief to the army encamped upon the waters of Lake George. There was no campaign that year. The two armies lay inside their respective fortifications, each keeping on the defensive; and the bold Rangers alone did active skirmishing service, as has been related, appearing at all sorts of apparently impossible points, swooping down upon an unwary hunting party or a sleeping sentinel, bringing in spoil to the fort, burning transports bound for Ticonderoga, and doing gallant irregular service which kept the garrison and the Rangers in spirits, but did little or nothing to effect any change in the condition of affairs.

Anxiously was news waited for from England. What was the parent country going to do for her Western children in their hour of need and extremity? There were rumours afloat of a massing of Indian tribes to be let loose upon the hapless settlers along the Indian border; and although Sir William Johnson, that able agent of England's with the natives, was hard at work seeking to oppose and counteract French diplomacy amongst the savage tribes, there was yet so much disunion and misunderstanding and jealousy amongst English commanders and governors, that matters were constantly at a deadlock; whilst France, with her centralized authority, moved on towards her goal unimpeded and at ease (as it seemed to the harassed English officials), although not without her internal troubles also.

November brought about the usual breaking up of the camps on both sides. The French soldiers were drafted back to Canada in great companies, sorely beset and harassed at times by the action of the Rangers; whilst Winslow drew off the bulk of his men to winter quarters in the larger towns of New England and the adjacent colonies, leaving Major Eyre in charge of the fort, with sufficient men to hold it during the dead winter season.

Rogers' Rangers were independent of weather. They pursued their hardy and adventurous calling as well through the ice-bound winter months as during the genial season of summer. But from time to time his followers liked to visit their homes and friends, and Winslow was glad enough to have their company upon his march back upon civilization; for the Rangers were masters of the art of woodcraft, and were the most able allies when difficulties arose through the rising of rivers or the intricacies of the forest paths.

Stark and his little band, now reduced from a dozen to nine, accompanied the army back to winter quarters; for John desired to see his friends, and also to raise recruits for next season's campaign, now that he had learned experience, and had inspiring tales to tell of adventure, victory, and quick retributive vengeance upon a treacherous and rapacious enemy.

Fritz and Charles both accompanied him, though the latter with some reluctance. He would rather have remained in the neighbourhood of the French lines, behind which lay the foe he was bent on meeting once more face to face; but Stark had represented to him that his sister would wish to see him once more, and Rogers had appointed January as the time when he and his Rangers would be back, when the ice would be firm and hard, and they could renew their wild winter warfare, whilst during the earlier months of the winter there was no certainty of carrying on any successful operations. Heavy rain and soft snow were too much even for the hardy Rangers to grapple with. They were practically useless now till the frost came and fastened its firm grip upon the sleeping world.

There was joy in many a city throughout the English colony when the troops marched in; although there was mourning in many homes for the loss of some son or brother killed by the foe, or by the many forms of sickness which prevailed at the fort.

There were troubles, too, with the citizens about the billeting of the English contingent, and many were the heart burnings which arose between stubborn townsmen and military rulers before these matters could be adjusted. But all this made little matter in houses like that of Benjamin Ashley, who was a true patriot at heart, and threw open his doors not only to his wife's brother, but to as many war-weary soldiers as he could accommodate, and was never tired of hearing all that they could tell as to their past experiences, or of discussing with them the probable result of the coming struggle.

Fritz would sit beside Susanna's spinning wheel in the evening, telling her stories to which she listened in open-eyed amaze, and giving eager heed to the discussion of politics amongst the other men. Charles would sit apart, absent and dreamy-a strange figure amongst the rest- very gentle and tender in his manner towards Hannah and Susanna, but taking little or no interest in the daily round of life, and only counting the days till he could return to the forest and his mission of vengeance.

There was great discontent in the hearts of the colonists. They declared that nothing was done for them, and yet they were never prepared to bestir themselves actively. When Fritz asked eagerly about the English statesman Pitt, he was told that he and the Duke of Newcastle were now acting together in the ministry, and that some hoped for better things in consequence. But it was evident to all by this time that the first move made by the new minister would be directed against Louisbourg in Acadia, the only stronghold yet remaining to the French in Cape Breton Island. After driving the enemy from thence, he might, and probably would, turn his attention to the western frontier; but meantime the colonists here would have mainly to hold back the enemy by their own united efforts, and unity of action was just the thing which appeared most difficult to them.

It was not encouraging; but the hardy Rangers were not to be disheartened, and true to their promise, they only stayed within winter quarters till after the festive Christmas season; and then gathering together a compact little body of volunteers, Stark set forward once again for the wild forest, where he was to meet Rogers and his band.

Fritz was ready to go, despite his parting with pretty Susanna, whose bright eyes sparkled with tears as she said goodbye. It was not a time for making new ties; yet the little maiden knew very well by this time that her life and his were bound together by a strong and tender bond, and that into her own something had entered which could never be taken away.

They met in the heart of the forest, a few miles from Fort William Henry-Rogers and his large company, and Stark with his smaller contingent. But Stark was now the leader of a band of five-and-twenty bold spirits; for so inspiring had been his stories of the Ranger's life that volunteers had come crowding in, and he had had some ado to get rid of those who were manifestly unfit for the life. Even Ebenezer Jenkyns, in his wild desire to win the approval of Susanna, had begged to be permitted to join the Ranger band, and Stark had had some difficulty in ridding himself of the youthful Quaker, suddenly possessed of martial ambitions and ardour.

Right glad were the garrison at the fort to see the Rangers come marching in. They had been quite quiet, save for a few minor nocturnal raids from Indians, which had not done much harm. Their chief foe was smallpox, which kept breaking out amongst the men, as well as other forms of sickness. They did not understand sanitation, and the fort was dirty and unhealthy. Rogers would not have his men lodged within it; but the Rangers built themselves huts just outside, and when not otherwise occupied, spent their time in the construction of boats and sloops for use on the lake, in which work Major Eyre had kept his men employed during the previous months.

But it was not for peaceful toil like this that the Rangers had gathered together; in a little while, accordingly, a scouting party was formed, with Crown Point as its goal.

Snowshoes and skates were looked to, and the hardy Rangers started off beneath the grey, leaden winter sky, gliding through the grim, ghost-like forest, silent as death, past ice-bound waterfalls, and forests of fir and larch bent and bowed by the load of snow, ever onwards and northwards, always on the alert, ready for instant action, fearless and undismayed in a white wilderness and in those trackless solitudes which would strike dismay into many a bold heart.

They skirted round Ticonderoga, not showing themselves to their foe, and encamped upon the edge of Lake Champlain, lighting fires, and making themselves as comfortable as circumstances permitted. They had travelled hard for many days, and were glad of a little rest.

But this rest was not of long duration. Early the next morning, before it was well light, Charles, the sleepless watcher, awoke the camp by his low whistle of warning.

"I hear the sound of a sledge on the ice!" he said.

In a moment every Ranger was on the alert; every man had seized his weapons, the fires were stamped out, and preparations were made for an instant move.

A few minutes more and they heard the sound also-the sharp ring of a sledge upon the ice, and the beat of horse hooves as it drew nearer.

Now horses were prizes greatly in demand at the English fort, and Rogers was eager to obtain possession of this prize. He called out to Stark to make a dash along the lake side with a dozen of his men, and try to head it off towards the spot where he and the rest of the Rangers would wait. And hardly had the order left his lips before Stark was off upon his mission.

On and on dashed the sledge with its unsuspecting occupants. They had come forth from Ticonderoga, and were heading for Crown Point. Stark and his men flitted like shadows along the snowy banks. The horses paused. There was something amiss with the harness. Stark looked at his men, gave a fine English cheer, and rushed forth upon the ice, with a dozen stout followers at his heels.

In a moment the occupants of the sledge saw their peril. A yell arose from the throats of all the three. They turned like lightning, and the horses sprang forward at a gallop; but in a moment they were surrounded by Stark and his men, who called upon them to surrender, and sprang at the horses to stay their headlong flight.