With Rogers on the Frontier

What the Rangers saw was the French flotilla moving up the lake in the full blaze of the afternoon sun.

First a great swarm of birch canoes crowded with naked savages in war paint and feathers, and gliding swiftly over the smooth water in no particular order. Next came two hundred and fifty bateaux, moved by sail and oar, some bearing the Canadian militia and some the battalion of old France in handsome uniform. Then followed the cannon and mortars, each one placed on a platform, sustained by two bateaux lashed side by side, and rowed by the militia of Saint Ours. The battalions of Bearn and Rousillon, the Canadians of Gaspe with the provision boats and the field hospital continued the procession, and lastly a rear-guard of regulars closed the long line.

No wonder that while the watching scouts could not help being filled with admiration at the spectacle, they also were depressed by the conviction that to repel the attack of such a force was hopeless, and that the fate of their beloved fort was sealed.

With utmost speed they made their way back through the woods, and told Commander Monro what they had seen.

As Seth rightly judged, the brave old man, while fully realizing the seriousness of the situation, did not for a moment contemplate the evacuation of the fort, or the anticipating of the attack by sending a message of surrender to Montcalm.

What he did do was at once to despatch a note to General Webb, who was at Fort Edward, fourteen miles distant, with nearly two thousand men, informing him of the advance of the French and asking for reinforcements, a request which he repeated again and again during the siege, without evoking any response from Webb, who seemed to have been too timid to do as he should have done, namely, hasten forward with his troops to the support of his imperilled brethren in arms.

All told, including sailors and mechanics, Monro had a bare two thousand men wherewith to oppose the eight thousand of the French commander. Yet when Montcalm, having arrived within striking distance of the fort, and completed his preparations for the siege, sent an aide-de-camp to him with the following letter:

"I owe it to humanity to summon you to surrender. At present I can restrain the savages, as I might not have power to do under other circumstances, and an obstinate defence on your part can only retard the capture of the place a few days, and endanger an unfortunate garrison which cannot be relieved. I demand a decisive answer in an hour;" the doughty Scotchman gave his answer at once, and it was that he and his soldiers would defend themselves to the last, emphasizing his refusal by a broadside from his cannon so soon as the truce was ended.

While the white flags were flying the Indians swarmed over the fields before the fort; and when they learned the result of the parley, an Abenakis chief shouted exultantly in broken French:

"You won't surrender, eh! Fire away then, and fight your best, for if I catch you, you shall get no quarter" – a threat that was only too awfully fulfilled in the sequel.

At this time Fort William Henry was an irregular bastioned square, formed by embankments of gravel, surmounted by a rampart of heavy logs laid in tiers crossed one upon another, the interstices being filled with earth. The lake protected it on the north, the marsh on the east, and ditches with chevaux-de-frise on the south and west. Seventeen cannons, great and small, besides mortars and swivels were mounted upon the ramparts.

Montcalm's first proceeding was to open trenches for the protection of his soldiers – a task of extreme difficulty, as the ground was covered with half burned stumps, roots, and fallen trunks. All night of the 4th of August eight hundred men toiled with pick and spade and axe, while the cannon from the fort flashed through the darkness, and grape and round shot whistled and screamed over their heads.

Before daybreak the first parallel was completed, and a battery nearly finished on the left, while another was well started on the right. The men now worked under cover, safe in their burrows, one gang relieving another, as the operations went steadily on all day.

So soon as these forts were in readiness, Montcalm mounted his cannon upon them, eight at the left and eleven at the right, and proceeded to bombard Fort William Henry vigorously. The fort replied with spirit, and for several days ensuing the heavy guns thundered from dawn until dark, while from a hundred peaks and crags the astonished wilderness roared back the sound.

The Indians enjoyed this artillery performance greatly. They had been of no use whatever thus far, as instead of devoting themselves to scouting, they loitered about the camp and trenches, or amused themselves by firing at the fort from behind stumps and logs.

Some, in imitation of the French, dug little trenches for themselves in which they wormed their way toward the ramparts, and now and then picked off an artilleryman, although not without loss on their own side.

Seth, whose heart was hot against the redskins, not only because they were of the enemy, but because of what he had himself suffered at their merciless hands, made a point of watching for them; and not a day passed without his having the satisfaction of putting an end to the career of one or more of them.

By the end of the week the French had pushed their trenches so far forward that a battery was begun not two hundred and fifty yards from the fort, and the Indians lay so thick among the beans, maize, and cabbages that none of the garrison dared show themselves for an instant, as that meant certain death.

The position of the besieged had now become deplorable. More than three hundred of them had been either killed or wounded; the dread disease of smallpox was raging in their midst and the casemates were crowded with the sick. All the large cannon were burst or dismounted, the ramparts were already breached in several places, and a general assault might be looked for at any time, while there was evidently no hope of assistance from Fort Edward where General Webb still stayed inert.

After consultation with his officers Monro determined upon attempting a sortie in force, and among those selected to share in it were the Rangers, the majority of whom had so far escaped both shot and sickness.

"We have about reached the end of our tether," the sturdy old Scotchman said sadly to the council. "A sortie seems to be the only thing left for us to try. I confess I am not at all sanguine myself of it doing us any good, but there's no telling. It may gain us some respite even though it does not effect our deliverance."

There was no dissenting voice, but on the contrary a hearty support of the veteran's project; and when volunteers for the forlorn hope were invited by him, not one of the officers held back.

Seth felt highly gratified when to the Rangers was assigned the perilous honor of taking the lead.

"There is only one chance in ten of our getting back alive, Reuben," he said to his friend, as, with countenance whose gravity showed how fully they realized what was before them, they talked together after the council of officers had dispersed, "but we can only do our best. If we have to surrender, I pray God we may not fall into the hands of those red devils the French have with them. I'd rather be shot at once than be taken prisoner by them and tortured to death."

"And so would I," answered Reuben. "They're perfect fiends, not human beings, and the French ought to be ashamed of themselves for having such allies."

It was at the dead of night when the majority of the effective men in the garrison silently moved out of the fort and across the fields in the direction of Montcalm's encampment.

They were favored in their enterprise by the intense darkness of the night, and by the fact that the bombardment had been so heavy all day that the French were persuaded they had practically cannonaded their antagonists into helplessness, and consequently took no special precautions against a night attack.

Led by the Rangers, who seemed to possess the faculty of seeing in the dark, the gallant band made its way resolutely toward the enemy's position, and had got so near that they could hear the sentries exchanging the watchword on their rounds, when the challenge "Qui va la?" rang sharply out on the still night air, and they came to a sudden halt.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MASSACRE OF THE ENGLISH

Seth was so close to the sentry who had discovered their approach, that with a single bound forward he was able to cut him down and silence him forever.

But his warning challenge had been heard by others of the guard, and they hurried out to investigate. Realizing that further concealment of their design was not possible, Colonel Frye, who was in command, called upon his men to fire, and they poured a volley into the French encampment that wakened every sleeper, and for the moment created lively confusion.

The well-disciplined soldiers soon regained order, however, and rushed to repel the attack in such numbers that Colonel Frye at once saw the hopelessness of withstanding them, and gave the command to retreat.

Reluctantly enough his men obeyed, for, although they could see for themselves how they were outnumbered, they did want to inflict some loss upon the enemy before retreating to the fort.

They accordingly gave back as slowly as possible, firing and reloading their muskets with such celerity that the French conceived their numbers to be much greater than they really were, and were more cautious in their pursuit than they would have been if they had known the truth.

Seth was one of the last to retreat, and his slowness nearly cost him his life, as an Iroquois scout, creeping serpent-like through the long grass, got near enough to hurl his tomahawk at him with deadly aim. But by a happy chance Seth at that moment threw up his gun, and the hatchet struck it instead of his head, glancing harmlessly off to one side.

In his rage at having missed, the Iroquois sprang upon Seth, and throwing his arms about him, strove to fasten his teeth in the Ranger's throat as though he were a wolf.

Now did Seth's skill in wrestling serve him in good stead. The redskin's onset was so sudden and unexpected that he had almost succeeded in his brutal purpose ere his intended victim could defend himself; but the next instant by a dexterous movement he evaded the cruel teeth, and then, dropping his gun, gripped his assailant around the neck, and flung him backward with such force that the savage's senses were knocked out of him, and he lay limp and harmless.

"It would serve you right if I put my knife into you," growled Seth, as he groped about for his gun. But he forebore to do it, and having picked up the gun, hurried after the others, who of course had not waited for him, and with them regained the protection of the fort.

The sortie having accomplished nothing, the situation seemed hopeless; and after again consulting with his subordinates, Colonel Monro with a heavy heart came to the conclusion that there was no alternative but to capitulate on the best terms obtainable.

Accordingly on the 9th of August a white flag was raised, a drum was beat, and Lieutenant-Colonel Young, mounted upon horseback, accompanied by a few soldiers, went to the tent of Montcalm.

As the result of his negotiations with the French commander it was agreed that the English troops should march out with the honors of war, and be escorted to Fort Edward by a detachment of French troops; all French prisoners captured in America since the war began should be given up within three months; and that all the stores, munitions, and artillery were to be the prize of the victors, with the exception of one field-piece which the garrison were to be permitted to retain in recognition of their brave defence.

These terms were fair and honorable to both parties; and if only Montcalm had taken such measures as would have insured their being carried out, the horrible proceedings of the following days, whereby what might otherwise have been considered a creditable achievement was turned into an appalling scandal, might have been prevented.

It is true that before signing the capitulation Montcalm held a council with the Indian chiefs and asked them to consent to the conditions and to promise to restrain their warriors from disorder, and that the chiefs approved of everything and promised everything.

But he should not have been content with this. Knowing the nature of his allies as he did, he ought to have used his regular troops upon whom he could depend as a guard for the English, who were in no position to defend themselves.

When the garrison evacuated Fort William Henry they marched over to join their comrades in the entrenched camp which was included in the surrender; and no sooner had they gone than a horde of yelling savages climbed through the enclosures in search of rum and plunder.

They found very little of either, and at once proceeded to vent their disappointment upon the unfortunate men, who, having been too sick to leave their beds, were awaiting removal later on.

These they butchered without remorse, and even cut off their heads, which they paraded proudly from the casements. It was a terrible scene, yet no attempt to check the fiends was made by the French, who seemed afraid to interfere with their savage allies.

Having looted the fort of what little there was in it, the Indians then turned their attention to the entrenched camp, where all the English were now collected. The French guard stationed there either could not or would not keep out the bloodthirsty rabble, and they roamed among the tents intrusive and insolent, their painted visages marked with sinister grins as they twitched the long hair of the terrified women in anticipation of the scalping knife.

Seth saw it all, and the witnessing of such indignities so filled him with fury that again and again he could scarce restrain himself from striking down one of the dusky demons. But of course any such act would have been utter folly, as it would certainly have precipitated the general massacre for which the Indians hankered.

At length through the earnest efforts of Montcalm and his officers something like order was obtained and the most of the Indians were persuaded to return to their own encampment for the night.

But there was little rest in the English camp, and as soon as day broke they made haste to set out for Fort Edward. They had their muskets, but they were without ammunition; and no sooner had they begun to move than the Indians, in spite of the presence of the French escort, began to plunder them of their little baggage, demanding rum, of which there was only a little in the soldiers' canteen.

When after much difficulty the column at last got started along the road, the redskins crowded in upon them, impeding their progress, snatching caps, coats, and weapons from the men, tomahawking those that resisted, and seizing upon women and children, dragged them shrieking away, or murdered them on the spot.

Suddenly arose the awful sound of the war-whoop, and at this signal for butchery the whole mob of savages rushed upon the rear of the columns where the New Hampshire men were, and proceeded to slaughter them wholesale.

A frightful tumult ensued. Montcalm, Levis, Bourlamaque, and other French officers who had hastened to the scene, threw themselves among the Indians, and by promises and threats sought to stop their murderous frenzy.

"Kill me, but spare the English who are under my protection!" exclaimed Montcalm in the dramatic fashion characteristic of his race, and he himself tore a young officer from the grasp of a Huron who was about to tomahawk him.

Yet the dreadful work went on until many hundreds of the unfortunate English had been either killed or carried off by the ruthless savages, before at last the survivors were got back to the entrenched camp, and there protected from further massacre by an adequate guard of French regulars.

Seth had a marvellous escape, or rather series of escapes. His chivalrous instinct had impelled him to keep near the women and children in the hope of in some manner being helpful to them; but, although he had possessed the strength of Samson, he could not have accomplished anything, for the Indians crowded in upon them from all sides, and it was impossible to ward off their assaults.

Yet he kept his place until at the raising of the war-whoop the general attack was made; and then in the wild confusion that followed he was jostled and hustled this way and that until he found himself separated from the main body and with the way clear to the forest.

"I can do nothing for the others," he muttered. "I may as well try and save myself." And after a quick glance to right and left to make sure there were no Indians near, he started to run for the shelter of the trees.

He had not gone many yards when the cry of a child fell on his ears. He checked himself for an instant, and looking in the direction from which the cry came, saw a little boy half hidden in the grass, who was calling to him:

"Take me with you, oh, take me with you too!"

At first Seth hesitated. Where delay probably meant death, to attempt to save the boy might merely imperil himself without benefiting the boy.

But the hesitation was only for an instant, and then, carried away by a generous impulse, Seth changed his course so as to take hold of the little fellow's hand, and together they fled toward the forest.

Half way thither they were met by an Indian who barred the way with a bloody tomahawk, and yelled at them in a frenzied fashion. He was a giant in size, and at sight of him the boy shrieked and cowered close to Seth, who came to a full stop as though he had no thought of resistance.

Misled by this apparent submission, the Indian, his eyes gleaming with the lust of blood, made a grab at the boy's hair with the intention of scalping him. Seth then saw his opportunity, and with a quick spring threw himself upon the wretch, who, not expecting this sudden onset, went down headlong, while the boy dodged out of his reach unhurt.

Holding him fast despite his violent struggles to get free, Seth tore the tomahawk from his grasp, and despatched him with the weapon already stained with the blood of his victims.

Then exclaiming: "One more devil done for!" he caught the boy by the hand, and resumed the race for the forest, which they reached, all spent but scathless.

Knowing his way thoroughly, he pushed on as rapidly as the strength of his little companion permitted, keeping a sharp lookout lest there should be any scouts hunting for fugitives.

By the end of an hour the poor boy was so exhausted that Seth had either to let him have a rest, or desert him. He of course chose the first alternative, and they hid in a hollow where no one could have found them save by coming right upon them.

The boy was full of gratitude to his preserver, and as the little chap curled up beside him, seeming to feel quite secure, Seth took some comfort from having been the means of saving his young life.

All that night and the following day they were in the woods with nothing to stay their hunger save the few berries they could find, but ere the return of night they reached Fort Edward, being the first of the fugitives to do so.

Seth's account of the atrocities perpetrated by the enemy filled those at Fort Edward with horror and indignation; and if the men had been left to themselves, they would have rushed to the scene to avenge their brethren.

But the saner councils of their officers prevailed. They were not in sufficient force to cope with the French and their allies, and, however daring and impetuous their attack might be, it could only result in their own discomfiture. There was nothing to be done but to keep within the fort until the invaders had finished their work of destruction.

During the days that followed cannon were fired at intervals from the fort to guide those who had fled to the woods, whence they came dropping in half dead with hunger; but it was not until more than a week after the surrender that the main body of the garrison appeared under the escort of a strong French guard.

Meanwhile the victors were busy demolishing the English stronghold. First the barracks were torn down, and then the huge pine logs of the ramparts were got together in a heap, upon which were thrown the bodies of the butchered men and women, and the whole was set on fire. "The mighty funereal pyre blazed all night. On the following day the army re-embarked for Canada. The din of ten thousand combatants, the rage, the terror, the agony were gone; and no living thing was left but the wolves that gathered from the mountains to feast upon the dead."

CHAPTER XIX

AN ADVENTURE IN NEW YORK

The fall of Fort William Henry, and the horrors that followed it, especially as his friend Reuben Thayer was among the victims, threw Seth into a state of deep depression. His life seemed to have lost its spring, and the impulse was strong upon him to obtain his release from the Rangers, and make his way down to Boston in the hope of securing a berth on an ocean-going ship, where he might forget his grief in the novel experience of a sailor's life.

He did yield to it so far as to go to Albany, where Major Rogers was at the time, and to open his heart to him in the matter, although he much feared that he would get only a good rating from him.

But the veteran warrior showed a side of his nature he had never before revealed. Instead of meeting Seth with harshness or ridicule he showed him surprising sympathy.

"I know just how you feel, my boy," he said kindly. "It is hard to be patient and to keep up one's heart when everything seems going wrong, although some of us may be trying to do our best. If the English generals would only take the advice that is given them, these disasters need never have happened, and not only would Fort William Henry still be ours, but we would have had Ticonderoga and maybe Crown Point too. But it's no use crying over spilt milk, Seth. We must only cheer up and try again. The generals will be wiser next time, and we'll drive the French back to Canada before you're much older."

Touched and brightened by the Major's words which went right to his heart, Seth actually smiled as he responded:

"Of course, that's the right way to look at it, sir. It's no good getting into the dumps and staying there. We'll beat the French yet, and teach those devilish Indians a lesson that they will not soon forget."

"Spoken like a man, Seth!" exclaimed the Major, giving him a hearty clap on the back. "You're got the right stuff in you, and you'll live to see the English masters of the whole continent, take my word for it. And now I've got a bit of good news for you. How would you like to take a trip to New York by way of a little change?"

What was left of the gloom that darkened Seth's countenance vanished in an instant and he answered eagerly:

"How would I like it? Why, I'd be delighted to go. Are you going, sir?"

"No, I'm not going, Seth, but I have an important despatch to send, and I dare say I could arrange for you to carry it if you will promise me to come back, and not go off on one of the ships, of which there are a good many more there than at Boston."

"Oh, I'll promise to come back if you'll only let me go," said Seth earnestly. "But I hope I can stay a little while so as to see the great city."

"That will be all right, my boy," and the Major smiled indulgently. "I will tell you more about it in the morning, and now you may as well have a look around Albany and perhaps you will come across some of your friends."

So in a very lightened frame of mind Seth left his chief, and spent the rest of the day seeing the sights of the growing town, whose most important citizens at that time were the Dutch traders who knew so well how to get the better of the Iroquois and other friendly Indians that brought them furs in barter for goods.

The peaceful bustle of business was a wonderfully pleasant change after the bloody strife through which he had so lately passed, and it served to restore the tone of his spirits so that he lay down that night quite a different man from what he had begun the day.

He saw Major Rogers the next morning, and learned that he was to start for New York that afternoon. He found so much to interest him in Albany that he would have been glad to prolong his stay a little, but of course kept this to himself, and was at the place appointed ahead of time, all in readiness for the journey.