On the fifth day of May, his body being demanded by the sheriffs at the Tower-gate, in consequence of a writ under the great seal of England, directed to the lieutenant of the Tower, his lordship desired permission to go in his own landau; and appeared gaily dressed in a light coloured suit of clothes, embroidered with silver. He was attended in the landau by one of the sheriffs, and the chaplain of the Tower, followed by the chariots of the sheriffs, a mourning coach and six, filled with his friends, and a hearse for the conveyance of his body. He was guarded by a posse of constables, and a party of horse grenadiers, and a detachment of infantry; and in this manner the procession moved from the Tower, through an infinite concourse of people, to Tyburn, where the gallows, and the scaffold erected under it, appeared covered with black baize. The earl behaved with great composure to Mr. sheriff Vaillant, who attended him in the landau: he observed that the gaiety of his apparel might seem odd on such an occasion, but that he had particular reasons for wearing that suit of clothes; he took notice of the vast multitude which crowded round him, brought thither, he supposed, by curiosity to see a nobleman hanged: he told the sheriff he had applied to the king by letter, that he might be permitted to die in the Tower, where the earl of Essex, one of his ancestors, had been beheaded in the reign of queen Elizabeth; an application which, he said, he had made with the more confidence, as he had the honour to quarter part of his majesty’s arms. He expressed some displeasure at being executed as a common felon, exposed to the eyes of such a multitude. The chaplain who had never been admitted to him before, hinting that some account of his lordship’s sentiments on religion would be expected by the public, he made answer that he did not think himself accountable to the public for his private sentiments; that he had always adored one God, the creator of the universe; and with respect to any particular opinions of his own, he had never propagated them, or endeavoured to make proselytes, because he thought it was criminal to disturb the established religion of his country, as lord Bolingbroke had done by the publication of his writings. He added, that the great number of sects, and the multiplication of religious disputes, had almost banished morality. With regard to the crime for which he suffered, he declared that he had no malice against Mr. Johnson; and that the murder was owing to a perturbation of mind, occasioned by a variety of crosses and vexations. When he approached the place of execution, he expressed an earnest desire to see and take leave of a certain person who waited in the coach, a person for whom he entertained the most sincere regard and affection; but the sheriff prudently observing that such an interview might shock him, at a time when he had occasion for all his fortitude and recollection, he acquiesced in the justness of the remark, and delivered to him a pocket-book, a ring, and a purse, desiring they might be given to that person, whom he now declined seeing. On his arrival at Tyburn he came out of the landau, and ascended the scaffold with a firm step and undaunted countenance. He refused to join the chaplain in his devotions; but kneeling with him on black cushions, he repeated the Lord’s Prayer, which he said he had always admired; and added, with great energy, “O Lord, forgive me all my errors, pardon all my sins.” After this exercise, he presented his watch to Mr. sheriff Vaillant; thanked him and the other gentlemen for all their civilities; and signified his desire of being buried at Breden or Stanton, in Leicestershire. Finally, he gratified the executioner with a purse of money; then, the halter being adjusted to his neck, he stepped upon a little stage, erected upon springs, on the middle of the scaffold; and the cap being pulled over his eyes, the sheriff made a signal, at which the stage fell from under his feet, and he was left suspended. His body having hung an hour and five minutes, was cut down, placed in the hearse, and conveyed to the public theatre for dissection; where being opened, and lying for some days as the subject of a public lecture, at length it was carried off and privately interred. Without all doubt, this unhappy nobleman’s disposition was so dangerously mischievous, that it became necessary, for the good of society, either to confine him for life as au incorrigible lunatic, or give him up at once as a sacrifice to justice. Perhaps it might be no absurd or unreasonable regulation in the legislature, to divest all lunatics of the privilege of insanity, and, in cases of enormity, subject them to the common penalties of the law; for though, in the eye of casuistry, consciousness must enter into the constitution of guilt, the consequences of murder committed by a maniac may be as pernicious to society as those of the most criminal and deliberate assassination, and the punishment of death can be hardly deemed unjust or rigorous, when inflicted upon a mischievous being, divested of all the perceptions of reason and humanity. At any rate, as the nobility of England are raised by many illustrious distinctions above the level of plebeians, and as they are eminently distinguished from them in suffering punishment for high treason, which the law considers as the most atrocious crime that can be committed, it might not be unworthy of the notice of the legislature to deliberate whether some such pre-eminence ought not to be extended to noblemen convicted of other crimes, in order to alleviate as much as possible the disgrace of noble families which have deserved well of their country; to avoid any circumstance that may tend to diminish the lustre of the English nobility in the eyes of foreign nations; or to bring it into contempt with the common people of our own, already too licentious, and prone to abolish those distinctions which serve as the basis of decorum, order, and subordination.
Homicide is the reproach of England: one would imagine there is something in the climate of this country that not only disposes the natives to this inhuman outrage, but even infects foreigners who reside among them. Certain it is, high passions will break out into the most enormous violence in that country where they are least controlled by the restraint of regulation and discipline; and it is equally certain, that in no civilized country under the sun there is such a relaxation of discipline, either religious or civil, as in England. The month of August produced a remarkable instance of desperate revenge, perpetrated by one Stirn, a native of Hesse-Cassel, inflamed and exasperated by a false punctilio of honour. This unhappy young man was descended of a good family, and possessed many accomplishments both of mind and person; but his character was distinguished by such a jealous sensibility, as rendered him unhappy in himself, and disagreeable to his acquaintance. After having for some years performed the office of usher in a boarding-school, he was admitted to the house of one Mr. Matthews, a surgeon, in order to teach him the classics, and instruct his children in music, which he perfectly understood. He had not long resided in his family, when the surgeon took umbrage at some part of his conduct, taxed him roughly with fraud and ingratitude, and insisted upon his removing to another lodging. Whether he rejected this intimation, or found difficulty in procuring another apartment, the surgeon resolved to expel him by violence, called in the assistance of a peace-officer, and turned him out into the street in the night, after having loaded him with the most provoking reproaches. These injuries and disgraces operating upon a mind jealous by nature and galled by adversity, produced a kind of frenzy of resentment, and he took the desperate resolution of sacrificing Mr. Matthews to his revenge. Next day, having provided a case of pistols, and charged them for the occasion, he reinforced his rage by drinking an unusual quantity of wine, and repaired in the evening to a public house, which Mr. Matthews frequented, in the neighbourhood of Hatton-Garden. There he accordingly found the unhappy victim sitting with some of his friends; and the surgeon, instead of palliating his former conduct, began to insult him afresh with the most opprobrious invectives. Stirn, exasperated by this additional indignity, pulled his pistols from his bosom; shot the surgeon, who immediately expired; and discharged the other at his own breast, though his confusion was such that it did not take effect. He was apprehended on the spot, and conveyed to prison; where, for some days, he refused all kind of sustenance, but afterwards became more composed. At his trial he pleaded insanity of mind; but, being found guilty, he resolved to anticipate the execution of the sentence. That same evening he drank poison; and, notwithstanding all the remedies that could be administered, died in strong convulsions. His body was publicly dissected, according to the sentence of the law; and afterwards interred with those marks of indignity which are reserved for the perpetrators of suicide.
GEORGE II. 1727-1760
We shall close the domestic occurrences of this year with an account of two incidents, which, though of a very different nature in respect of each other, nevertheless concurred in demonstrating that the internal wealth and vigour of the nation were neither drained nor diminished by the enormous expense and inconveniencies of the war. The committee appointed to manage the undertaking for a new bridge over the river Thames, at Blackfriars, having received and examined a variety of plans presented by different artists, at length gave the preference to the design of one Mr. Mylne, a young architect, a native of North Britain, just returned from the prosecution of his studies at Rome, where he had gained the prize in the capital, which the academy of that city bestows on him who produces the most beautiful and useful plan on a given subject of architecture. This young man being in London, on his return to his own country, was advised to declare himself a candidate for the superintendency of the new bridge; and the plan which he presented was approved and adopted. The place being already ascertained, the lord-mayor of London, attended by the committee, and a great concourse of people, repaired to Blackfriars, and laid the first stone of the bridge; placing upon it a plate, with an inscription, which does more honour to the public spirit of the undertakers than to the classical taste of the author.547[See note 4 K, at the end of this Vol.]The other instance that denoted the wealth and spirit of the nation, was the indifference and unconcern with which they bore the loss of a vast magazine of naval stores belonging to the dock-yard at Portsmouth, which, in the month of July, was set on fire by lightning; and, consisting of combustibles, burned with such fury, notwithstanding all the endeavours of the workmen in the yard, the sailors in the harbour, and the troops in the town, that before a stop was put to the conflagration it had consumed a variety of stores to an immense value. The damage, however, was so immediately repaired, that it had no sort of effect in disconcerting any plan, or even in retarding any naval preparation.
How important these preparations must have been, may be judged from the prodigious increase of the navy, which, at this juncture, amounted to one hundred and twenty ships of the line, besides frigates, fire-ships, sloops, bombs, and tenders. Of these capital ships, seventeen were stationed in the East Indies, twenty for the defence of the West India islands, twelve in North America, ten in the Mediterranean, and sixty-one either on the coast of France, in the harbours of England, or cruising in the English seas for the protection of the British commerce. Notwithstanding these numerous and powerful armaments, the enemy, who had not a ship of the line at sea, were so alert with their small privateers and armed vessels, that in the beginning of this year, from the first of March to the tenth of June, they had made prize of two hundred vessels belonging to Great Britain and Ireland. The whole number of British ships taken by them, from the first day of June, in the year one thousand seven hundred and fifty-six, to the first of June in the present year, amounted to two thousand five hundred and thirty-nine; of these, seventy-eight were privateers, three hundred and twenty-one were retaken, and about the same number ransomed. In the same space of time, the British cruisers had made captures of nine hundred and forty-four vessels, including two hundred and forty-two privateers, many fishing boats and small coasters, the value of which hardly defrayed the expense of condemnation. That such a small proportion of ships should be taken from the enemy is not at all surprising, when we consider the terrible shocks their commerce had previously received, and the great number of their mariners imprisoned in England; but the prodigious number of British vessels taken by their petty coasting privateers, in the face of such mighty armaments, numerous cruisers, and convoys, seem to argue that either the English ships of war were inactive or improperly disposed, or that the merchants hazarded their ships without convoy. Certain it is, in the course of this year we find fewer prizes taken from the enemy, and fewer exploits achieved at sea, than we had occasion to record in the annals of the past. Not that the present year is altogether barren of events which redound to the honour of our marine commanders. We have, in recounting the transactions of the preceding year, mentioned a small armament equipped at Dunkirk, under the command of M. de Thurot, who, in spite of all the vigilance of the British commander stationed in the Downs, found means to escape from the harbour in the month of October last, and arrived at Gottenburgh in Sweden, from whence he proceeded to Bergen in Norway. His instructions were to make occasional descents upon the coast of Ireland: and, by dividing the troops, and distracting the attention of the government in that kingdom, to facilitate the enterprise of M. de Confians, the fate of which we have already narrated. The original armament of Thurot consisted of five ships, one of which, called the mareschal de Belleisle, was mounted with forty-four guns; the Begon, the Blond, the Terpsichore, had thirty guns each; and the Marante carried twenty-four. The number of soldiers put on board this little fleet did not exceed one thousand two hundred and seventy, exclusive of mariners, to the number of seven hundred; but two hundred of the troops were sent sick on shore before the armament sailed from Dunkirk; and in their voyage between Gottenburgh and Bergen they lost company of the Begon, during a violent storm. The severity of the weather detained them nineteen days at Bergen, at the expiration of which they set sail for the western islands of Scotland, and discovered the northern part of Ireland in the latter end of January. The intention of Thurot was to make a descent about Derry; but before this design could be executed, the weather growing tempestuous, and the wind blowing off shore, they were driven out to sea, and in the night lost sight of the Marante, which never joined them in the sequel. After having been tempest-beaten for some time, and exposed to a very scanty allowance of provisions, the officers requested of Thurot that he would return to France, lest they should all perish by famine; but he lent a deaf ear to this proposal, and frankly told them he could not return to France, without having struck some stroke for the service of his country. Nevertheless, in hopes of meeting with some refreshment, he steered to the island of Islay, where the troops were landed; and here they found black cattle, and a small supply of oatmeal, for which they paid a reasonable price; and it must be owned, Thurot himself behaved with great moderation and generosity.
While this spirited adventurer struggled with these wants and difficulties, his arrival in those seas filled the whole kingdom with alarm. Bodies of regular troops and militia were posted along the coast of Ireland and Scotland; and besides the squadron of commodore Boys, who sailed to the northward on purpose to pursue the enemy, other ships of war were ordered to scour the British channel, and cruise between Scotland and Ireland. The weather no sooner permitted Thurot to pursue his destination, than he sailed from Islay to the bay of Carrickfergus, in Ireland, and made all the necessary preparations for a descent; which was accordingly effected with six hundred men, on the twenty-first day of February. Lieutenant-colonel Jennings, who commanded four companies of raw undisciplined men at Carrickfergus, having received information that three ships had anchored about two miles and a half from the castle, which was ruinous and defenceless, immediately detached a party to make observations, and ordered the French prisoners there confined to be removed to Belfast. Meanwhile, the enemy landing without opposition, advanced towards the town, which they found as well guarded as the nature of the place, which was entirely open, and the circumstances of the English commander, would allow. A regular attack was carried on, and a spirited defence made,* until the ammunition of the English failed; then colonel Jennings retired in order to the castle, which, however, was in all respects untenable; for, besides a breach in the wall, near fifty feet wide, they found themselves destitute of provisions and ammunition.
* One circumstance that attended this dispute deserves to be transmitted to posterity, as an instance of that courage, mingled with humanity, which constitutes true heroism. While the French and English were hotly engaged in one of the streets, a little child ran playfully between them, having no idea of the danger to which it was exposed: a common soldier of the enemy, perceiving the life of this poor innocent at stake, grounded his piece, advanced deliberately between the lines of fire, took up the child in his arms, conveyed it to a place of safety; then returning to his place, resumed his musket, and renewed his hostility.
Nevertheless, they repulsed the assailants in the first attack, even after the gate was burst open, and supplied the want of shot with stones and rubbish. At length the colonel and his troops were obliged to surrender, on condition that they should not be sent prisoners to France, but be ransomed, by sending thither an equal number of French prisoners from Great Britain or Ireland: that the castle should not be demolished, nor the town of Carrickfergus plundered or burned, on condition that the mayor and corporation should furnish the French troops with necessary provisions. The enemy, after this exploit, did not presume to advance farther into the country; a step which indeed they could not have taken with any regard to their own safety; for by this time a considerable body of regular troops was assembled; and the people of the country manifested a laudable spirit of loyalty and resolution, crowding in great numbers to Belfast, to offer their service against the invaders. These circumstances, to which the enemy were no strangers, and the defeat of Conflans, which they had also learned, obliged them to quit their conquest, and re-embark with some precipitation, after having laid Carrickfergus under moderate contributions.
The fate they escaped on shore they soon met with at sea. Captain John Elliot, who commanded three frigates at Kinsale, and had in the course of this war more than once already distinguished himself even in his early youth, by extraordinary acts of valour, was informed by a despatch from the duke of Bedford, lord-lieutenant of Ireland, that three of the enemy’s ships lay at anchor in the bay of Carrickfergus; and thither he immediately shaped his course in the ship Æolus, accompanied by the Pallas and Brilliant, under the command of the captains Clements and Logic. On the twenty-eighth day of February they descried the enemy, and gave chase in sight of the Isle of Man; and about nine in the morning, captain Elliot, in his own ship, engaged the Belleisle, commanded by Thurot, although considerably his superior in strength of men, number of guns, and weight of metal. In a few minutes his consorts were also engaged with the other two ships of the enemy. After a warm action, maintained with great spirit on all sides for an hour and a half, captain Elliot’s lieutenant boarded the Belleisle; and, striking her colours with his own hand, the commander submitted: his example was immediately followed by the other French captains; and the English commodore, taking possession of his prizes, conveyed them into the bay of Ramsay, in the Isle of Man, that their damage might be repaired. Though the Belleisle was very leaky, and had lost her boltsprit, mizen-mast, and main-yard, in all probability the victory would not have been so easily obtained, had not the gallant Thurot fallen during the action. The victor had not even the consolation to perform the last offices to his brave enemy; for his body was thrown into the sea by his own people in the hurry of the engagement. The loss on the side of the English did not exceed forty men killed and wounded, whereas above three hundred of the enemy were slain and disabled. The service performed on this occasion was deemed so essential to the peace and commerce of Ireland, that the thanks of the house of commons in that kingdom were voted to the conquerors of Thurot, as well as to lieutenant-colonel Jennings, for his spirited behaviour at Carrickfergus; and the freedom of the city of Cork was presented in silver boxes to the captains Elliot, Clements, and Logie. The name of Thurot was become terrible to all the trading seaports of Great Britain and Ireland; and therefore the defeat and capture of his squadron were celebrated with as hearty rejoicings as the most important victory could have produced.
In the beginning of April another engagement between four frigates, still more equally matched, had a different issue, though not less honourable for the British commanders. Captain Skinner of the Biddeford, and captain Kennedy of the Flamborough, both frigates, sailed on a cruise from Lisbon; and on the fourth day of April, fell in with two large French frigates, convoy to a fleet of merchant-ships, which the English captains immediately resolved to engage. The enemy did not decline the battle, which began about half an hour after six in the evening, and raged with great fury till eleven. By this time the Flamborough had lost sight of the Biddeford; and the frigate with which captain Kennedy was engaged bore away with all the sail she could carry. He pursued her till noon the next day, when she had left him so far astern, that he lost sight of her, and returned to Lisbon with the loss of fifteen men killed and wounded, including the lieutenant of marines, and considerable damage both in her hull and rigging. In three days he was joined by the Biddeford, which had also compelled her antagonist to give way, and pursued her till she was out of sight. In about an hour after the action began, captain Skinner was killed by a cannon-ball; and the command devolved to lieutenant Knollis, son to the earl of Banbury,* who maintained the battle with great spirit, even after he way wounded, until he received a second shot in his body, which proved mortal.
* Five sons of this nobleman were remarkably distinguished in this war. The fourth and fifth were dangerously wounded at the battle of Minden; the second was hurt in the reduction of Guadaloupe; lord Wallingford, the eldest, received a shot at Carrickfergus; and the third was slain in this engagement.
Then the master, assuming the direction, continued the engagement with equal resolution till the enemy made his escape; which he the more easily accomplished, as the Biddeford was disabled in her masts and rigging.
The bravery of five Irishmen and a boy, belonging to the crew of a ship from Waterford, deserves commemoration. The vessel, in her return from Bilboa, laden with brandy and iron, being taken by a French privateer off Ushant, about the middle of April, the captors removed the master, and all the hands but these five men and the boy, who were left to assist nine Frenchmen in navigating the vessel to France. These stout Hibernians immediately formed a plan of insurrection, and executed it with success. Four of the French mariners being below deck, three aloft among the rigging, one at the helm, and another walking the deck, Brian, who headed the enterprise, tripped up the heels of the French steersman, seized his pistol, and discharged it at him who walked the deck; but missing the mark, he knocked him down with the but-end of the piece. At the same time hallooing to his confederates below, they assailed the enemy with their own broadswords; and, soon compelling them to submit, came upon deck, and shut the hatches. Brian being now in possession of the quarter-deck, those who were aloft called for quarter, and surrendered without opposition. The Irish having thus obtained a complete victory, almost without bloodshed, and secured the prisoners, another difficulty occurred: neither Brian nor any of his associates could read or write, or knew the least principle of navigation; but supposing his course to be north, he steered at a venture, and the first land he made was the neighbourhood of Youghall, where he happily arrived with his prisoners.
The only considerable damage sustained by the navy of Great Britain, since the commencement of this year, was the loss of the Ramillies, a magnificent ship of the second rate, belonging to the squadron which admiral Boscawen commanded on the coast of France, in order to watch the motions and distress the commerce of that restless enterprising enemy. In the beginning of February, a series of stormy weather obliged the admiral to return from the bay of Quiberon to Plymouth, where he arrived with much difficulty: but the Ramillies overshot the entrance to the sound; and, being embayed near a point called the Bolthead, about four leagues higher up the channel, was dashed in pieces among the rocks, after all her anchors and cables had given way. All her officers and men, amounting to seven hundred, perished on this occasion, except one midshipman and twenty-five mariners, who had the good fortune to save themselves by leaping on the rocks as the hull was thrown forwards, and raised up by the succeeding billows. Such were the most material transactions of the year, relating to the British empire in the seas of Europe.
We shall now transport the reader to the continent of North America, which, as the theatre of war, still maintained its former importance. The French emissaries from the province of Louisiana had exercised their arts of insinuation with such success among the Cherokees—a numerous and powerful nation of Indians settled on the confines of Virginia and Carolina—that they had infringed the peace with the English towards the latter end of the last year, and begun hostilities by plundering, massacring, and scalping several British subjects of the more southern provinces. Mr. Lyttleton, governor of South Carolina, having received information of these outrages, obtained the necessary aids from the assembly of the province, for maintaining a considerable body of forces, which was raised with great expedition. He marched in the beginning of October, at the head of eight hundred provincials, reinforced with three hundred regular troops, and penetrated into the heart of the country possessed by the Cherokees, who were so much intimidated by his vigour and despatch, that they sent a deputation of their chiefs to sue for peace, which was re-established by a new treaty, dictated by the English governor. They obliged themselves to renounce the French interest, to deliver up all the spies and emissaries of that nation then resident among them; to surrender to justice those of their own people who had been concerned in murdering and scalping the British subjects; and for the performance of these articles two-and-twenty of their head men were put as hostages into the hands of the governor. So little regard, however, was paid by these savages to this solemn accommodation, that Mr. Lyttleton had been returned but a few days from their country, when they attempted to surprise the English fort Prince George, near the frontiers of Carolina, by going thither in a body, on pretence of delivering up some murderers; but the commanding officer, perceiving some suspicious circumstances in their behaviour, acted with such vigilance and circumspection as entirely frustrated their design.549[See note 4 L, at the end of this Vol.]Thus disappointed, they wreaked their vengeance upon the English subjects trading in their country, all of whom they butchered without mercy. Not contented with this barbarous sacrifice, they made incursions on the British settlements at the Long Lanes, and the forks of the Broad River, and massacred about forty defenceless colonists, who reposed themselves in full security on the peace so lately ratified. As views of interest could not have induced them to act in this manner, and their revenge had not been inflamed by any fresh provocation, these violences must be imputed to the instigation of French incendiaries; and too plainly evinced the necessity of crowning our American conquests with the reduction of Louisiana, from whence these emissaries were undoubtedly despatched.
The cruelty and mischief with which the Cherokees prosecuted their renewed hostilities alarmed all the southern colonies of the English, and application was made for assistance to Mr. Amherst, the commander-in-chief of the king’s forces in America. He forthwith detached twelve hundred chosen men to South Carolina, under the command of colonel Montgomery, brother to the earl of Eglinton, an officer of approved conduct and distinguished gallantry. Immediately after his arrival at Charles-Town, he advanced to Ninety-Six, and proceeded to Twelve-mile river, which he passed in the beginning of June, without opposition. He continued his route by forced marches until he arrived in the neighbourhood of the Indian town called Little Keowee, where he encamped in an advantageous situation. Having reason to believe the enemy were not yet apprized of his coming, he resolved to rush upon them in the night by surprise. With this view, leaving his tents standing with a sufficient guard for the camp and waggons, he marched through the woods towards the Cherokee town of Estatoe, at the distance of five-and-twenty miles: and in his route detached a company of light infantry to destroy the village of Little Keowee, where they were received with a smart fire; but they rushed in with their bayonets, and all the men were put to the sword. The main body proceeded straight to Estatoe, which they reached in the morning; but it had been abandoned about half an hour before their arrival. Some few of the Indians, who had not time to escape, were slain; and the town, consisting of two hundred houses, well stored with provisions, ammunition, and all the necessaries of life, was first plundered, and then reduced to ashes: some of the wretched inhabitants who concealed themselves perished in the flames. It was necessary to strike a terror into those savages by some examples of severity; and the soldiers became deaf to all the suggestions of mercy when they found in one of the Indian towns the body of an Englishman, whom they had put to the torture that very morning. Colonel Montgomery followed his blow with surprising rapidity. In the space of a few hours he destroyed Sugar-Town, which was as large as Estateo, and every village and house in the Lower Nation. The Indian villages in this part of the world were agreeably situated, generally consisting of about one hundred houses, neatly and commodiously built, and well supplied with provisions. They had in particular large magazines of corn, which were consumed in the flames. All the men that were taken suffered immediate death; but the greater part of the nation had escaped with the utmost precipitation. In many houses the beds were yet warm, and the table spread with victuals. Many loaded guns went off while the houses were burning. The savages had not time to save their most valuable effects. The soldiers found some money, three or four watches, a good quantity of wampum, clothes, and peltry. Colonel Montgomery having thus taken vengeance on the perfidious Cherokees, at the expense of five or six men killed or wounded, returned to Fort Prince George, with about forty Indian women and children whom he had made prisoners. Two of their warriors were set at liberty, and desired to inform their nation, that, though they were now in the power of the English, they might still, on their submission, enjoy the blessings of peace. As the chief called Attakullakulla, alias the Little Carpenter, who had signed the last treaty, disapproved of the proceedings of his countrymen, and had done many good offices to the English since the renovation of the war, he was now given to understand that he might come down with some other chiefs to treat of an accommodation, which would be granted to the Cherokees on his account; but that the negotiation must be begun in a few days, otherwise all the towns in the Upper Nation would be ravaged and reduced to ashes.
These intimations having produced little or no effect, colonel Montgomery resolved to make a second irruption into the middle settlements of the Cherokees, and began his march on the twenty-fourth day of June. On the twenty-seventh, captain Morrison, of the advanced party, was killed by a shot from a thicket, and the firing became so troublesome that his men gave way. The grenadiers and light infantry being detached to sustain them, continued to advance, notwithstanding the fire from the woods; until, from a rising ground, they discovered a body of the enemy. These they immediately attacked, and obliged to retire into a Swamp; which, when the rest of the troops came up, they were after a short resistance compelled to abandon: but, as the country was difficult, and the path extremely narrow, the forces suffered on their march from the fire of scattered parties who concealed themselves behind trees and bushes. At length they arrived at the town of Etchowee, which the inhabitants had forsaken after having removed every thing of value. Here, while the army encamped on a small plain, surrounded by hills, it was incommoded by volleys from the enemy, which wounded some men, and killed several horses. They were even so daring as to attack the piquet guard, which repulsed them with difficulty; but, generally speaking, their parties declined an open engagement. Colonel Montgomery, sensible that, as many horses were killed or disabled, he could not proceed farther without leaving his provisions behind, or abandoning the wounded men to the brutal revenge of a savage enemy, resolved to return; and began his retreat in the night, that he might be the less disturbed by the Indians. Accordingly, he pursued his route for two days without interruption; but afterwards sustained some straggling fires from the woods, though the parties of the enemy were put to flight as often as they appeared. In the beginning of July he arrived at Fort Prince George; this expedition having cost him about seventy men killed and wounded, including five officers.
In revenge for these calamities, the Cherokees assembled to a considerable number, and formed the blockade of Fort Loudoun, a small fortification near the confines of Virginia, defended by an inconsiderable garrison, ill supplied with provisions and necessaries. After having sustained a long siege, and being reduced to the utmost distress, captain Demere, the commander, held a council of war with the other officers, to deliberate upon their present situation; when it appeared that their provisions were entirely exhausted; that they had subsisted a considerable time without bread upon horse-flesh, and such supplies of pork and beans as the Indian women could introduce by stealth: that the men were so weakened with famine and fatigue, that in a little time they would not be able to do duty; that, for two nights past, considerable parties had deserted, and some thrown themselves upon the mercy of the enemy; but the garrison in general threatened to abandon their officers, and betake themselves to the woods; and that there was no prospect of relief, their communication having been long cut off from all the British settlements: for these reasons they were unanimously of opinion that it was impracticable to prolong their defence; and they should accept of an honourable capitulation; and captain Stuart should be sent to treat with the warriors and the head men of the Cherokees, about the conditions of their surrender. This officer, being accordingly despatched with full powers, obtained a capitulation of the Indians, by which the garrison was permitted to retire. The Indians desired that, when they arrived at Keowee, the Cherokee prisoners confined at that place should be released, all hostilities cease, a lasting accommodation be re-established, and a regulated trade revived. In consequence of this treaty the garrison evacuated the fort, and had marched about fifteen miles on their return to Carolina, when they were surrounded and surprised by a large body of Indians, who massacred all the officers except captain Stuart, and slew five and twenty of the soldiers: the rest were made prisoners, and distributed among the different towns and villages of the nation. Captain Stuart owed his life to the generous intercession of the Little Carpenter, who ransomed him at the price of all he could command, and conducted him safe to Holston River, where he found major Lewis advanced so far with a body of Virginians. The savages, encouraged by their success at Fort Loudoun, undertook the siege of Ninety-Six, and other small fortifications; but retired precipitately on the approach of a body of provincials.
In the meantime, the British interest and empire were firmly established on the banks of the Ohio, by the prudence and conduct of major-general Stanwix, who had passed the winter at Pittsburgh, formerly Du Quesne, and employed that time in the most effectual manner for the service of his country. He repaired the old works, established posts of communication from the Ohio to Monongahela, mounted the bastions that cover the isthmus with artillery, erected casemates, store-houses, and barracks, for a numerous garrison, and cultivated with equal diligence and success the friendship and alliance of the Indians. The happy consequences of these measures were soon apparent in the production of a considerable trade between the natives and the merchants of Pittsburgh, and in the perfect security of about four thousand settlers, who now returned to the quiet possession of the lands from whence they had been driven by the enemy on the frontiers of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia.
GEORGE II. 1727-1760
The incidents of the war were much more important and decisive in the more northern parts of this great continent. The reader will remember that brigadier-general Murray was left to command the garrison of Quebec, amounting to about six thousand men; that a strong squadron of ships was stationed at Halifax, in Nova-Scotia, under the direction of lord Colville, an able and experienced officer, who had instructions to revisit Quebec in the beginning of summer, as soon as the river St. Laurence should be navigable; and that general Amherst, the commander-in-chief of the forces in America, wintered in New-York, that he might be at hand to assemble his troops in the spring, and re-commence his operations for the entire reduction of Canada. General Murray neglected no step that could be taken by the most vigilant officer for maintaining the important conquest of Quebec, and subduing all the Lower Canada; the inhabitants of which actually submitted, and took the oath of allegiance to the king of Great Britain.550[See note 4 M, at the end of this Vol.]The garrison., however, within the walls of Quebec, suffered greatly from the excessive cold in the winter, and the want of vegetables and fresh provisions; insomuch that, before the end of April, one thousand soldiers were dead of the scurvy, and twice that number rendered unfit for service. Such was the situation of the garrison, when Mr. Murray received undoubted intelligence that the French commander, the chevalier de Levis, was employed in assembling his army, which had been cantoned in the neighbourhood of Montreal; that from the inhabitants of the country he had completed his eight battalions, regimented forty companies of the troops de Colonie, and determined to undertake the siege of Quebec, whenever the river St. Laurence should be so clear of ice that he could use his four frigates, and other vessels, by means of which he was entirely master of the river.
The brigadier, considering the city of Quebec as no other than a strong cantonment, had projected a plan of defence, by extending lines, and intrenching his troops on the heights of Abraham, which at the distance of eight hundred paces, entirely commanded the ramparts of the city, and might have been defended by a small force against a formidable army. Fascines, and every other necessary for this work, had been provided; and in the month of April the men were set at work upon the projected lines: but the earth was so hardened by the frost, that it was found impracticable to proceed. Being informed on the night of the twenty-sixth, that the enemy had landed at Point-au-Tremble, to the number of ten thousand men, with five hundred savages, he ordered all the bridges over the river Cape Rouge to be broken down, secured the landing places at Sylleri and the Foulon; and next day, marching in person with a strong detachment, and two field-pieces, took possession of an advantageous situation, and thus defeated the scheme which the French commander had laid for cutting off the posts which the English had established. These being all withdrawn, the brigadier that same afternoon marched back to Quebec, with little or no loss, although his rear was harassed by the enemy. Here he formed a resolution which hath been censured by some critics in war, as a measure that savoured more of youthful impatience and overboiling courage than of that military discretion which ought to distinguish a commander in such a delicate situation; but it is more easy to censure with an appearance of reason, than to act in such circumstances with any certainty of success. Mr. Murray, in his letter to the secretary of state, declared, that, although the enemy were greatly superior to him in number, yet, when he considered that the English forces were habituated to victory, that they were provided with a fine train of field-artillery; that, in shutting them at once within the walls, he should have risked his whole stake on the single chance of defending a wretched fortification; a chance which could not be much lessened by an action in the field, though such an action would double the chance of success: for these reasons he determined to hazard a battle; should the event prove unprosperous, he resolved to hold out the place to the last extremity; then to retreat to the Isle of Orleans, or Coudres, with the remainder of the garrison, and there wait for a reinforcement. In pursuance of these resolutions he gave the necessary orders over night; and on the twenty-eighth day of April, at half an hour after six in the morning, marched out with his little army of three thousand men, which he formed on the heights in order of battle. The right brigade, commanded by colonel Burton, consisted of the regiments of Amherst, Anstruther, Webb, and the second battalion of Royal Americans; the left, under colonel Fraser, was formed of the regiments of Kennedy, Lascelles, Town-shend, and the Highlanders. Otway’s regiment, and the third battalion of Royal Americans, constituted the corps de reserve. Major Dalling’s corps of light infantry covered the right flank; the left was secured by captain Huzzen’s company of rangers, and one hundred volunteers, under the command of captain Donald Mac-donald; and each battalion was supplied with two field-pieces. Brigadier Murray, having reconnoitred the enemy, perceived their van had taken possession of the rising grounds about three quarters of a mile in his front; but that their army was on the march in one column. Thinking this was the critical moment to attack them before they were formed, he advanced towards them with equal order and expedition. They were soon driven from the heights, though not without a warm dispute; during which the body of their army advanced at a round pace, and formed in columns. Their van consisted of ten companies of grenadiers, two of volunteers, and four hundred savages; eight battalions, formed in four columns, with some bodies of Canadians in the intervals, constituted their main body; their rear was composed of two battalions, and some Canadians in the flanks; and two thousand Canadians formed the reserve. Their whole army amounted to upwards of twelve thousand men. Major Balling, with great gallantry, dispossessed their grenadiers of a house and windmill which they occupied, in order to cover their left flank; and in this attack the major and some of his officers were wounded: nevertheless, the light infantry pursued the fugitives to a corps which was formed to sustain them; then the pursuers halted, and dispersed along the front of the right; a circumstance which prevented that wing from taking advantage of the first impression they had made on the left of the enemy. The light infantry, being ordered to regain the flank, were, in attempting this motion, furiously charged, and thrown into disorder: then they retired to the rear in such a shattered condition, that they could never again be brought up during the whole action. Otway’s regiment was instantly ordered to advance from the body of the reserve, and sustain the right wing, which the enemy twice in vain attempted to penetrate. Meanwhile the left brigade of the British forces did not remain inactive: they had dispossessed the French of two redoubts, and sustained with undaunted resolution the whole efforts of the enemy’s right, until they were fairly fought down, overpowered by numbers, and reduced to a handful, notwithstanding the assistance they received from the third battalion of Royal Americans, which had been stationed with the body of the reserve, as well as from Kennedy’s regiment, posted in the centre. The French attacked with great impetuosity; and at length a fresh column of the regiment de Rousillon penetrating the left wing of the British army, it gave way; the disorder was soon communicated to the right; so that after a very obstinate dispute, which lasted an hour and three quarters, brigadier Murray was obliged to quit the field, with the loss of one thousand men killed or wounded, and the greater part of his artillery. The enemy lost twice the number of men and reaped no essential advantage from their victory.