<h2><SPAN href="#Contents">CHAPTER II</SPAN></h2>
<h3>Boston and Quebec</h3>
<p><span class="smcap">Washington</span> was not a professional soldier, though he had seen the
realities of war and had moved in military society. Perhaps it was an
advantage that he had not received the rigid training of a regular, for he
faced conditions which required an elastic mind. The force besieging
Boston consisted at first chiefly of New England militia, with companies
of minute-men, so called because of their supposed readiness to fight at a
minute's notice. Washington had been told that he should find 20,000 men
under his command; he found, in fact, a nominal army of 17,000, with
probably not more than 14,000 effective, and the number tended to decline
as the men went away to their homes after the first vivid interest gave
way to the humdrum of military life.</p>
<p>The extensive camp before Boston, as Washington now saw it, expressed the
varied character
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</SPAN></span>
of his strange command. Cambridge, the seat of Harvard
College, was still only a village with a few large houses and park-like
grounds set among fields of grain, now trodden down by the soldiers. Here
was placed in haphazard style the motley housing of a military camp. The
occupants had followed their own taste in building. One could see
structures covered with turf, looking like lumps of mother earth, tents
made of sail cloth, huts of bare boards, huts of brick and stone, some
having doors and windows of wattled basketwork. There were not enough huts
to house the army nor camp-kettles for cooking. Blankets were so few that
many of the men were without covering at night. In the warm summer weather
this did not much matter but bleak autumn and harsh winter would bring
bitter privation. The sick in particular suffered severely, for the
hospitals were badly equipped.</p>
<p>A deep conviction inspired many of the volunteers. They regarded as brutal
tyranny the tax on tea, considered in England as a mild expedient for
raising needed revenue for defense in the colonies. The men of Suffolk
County, Massachusetts, meeting in September, 1774, had declared in
high-flown terms that the proposed tax came from a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</SPAN></span>
parricide who held a
dagger at their bosoms and that those who resisted him would earn praises
to eternity. From nearly every colony came similar utterances, and flaming
resentment at injustice filled the volunteer army. Many a soldier would
not touch a cup of tea because tea had been the ruin of his country. Some
wore pinned to their hats or coats the words <q>Liberty or Death</q> and talked
of resisting tyranny until <q>time shall be no more.</q> It was a dark day for
the motherland when so many of her sons believed that she was the enemy of
liberty. The iron of this conviction entered into the soul of the American
nation; at Gettysburg, nearly a century later, Abraham Lincoln, in a noble
utterance which touched the heart of humanity, could appeal to the days of
the Revolution, when <q>our fathers brought forth on this continent a new
nation, conceived in liberty.</q> The colonists believed that they were
fighting for something of import to all mankind, and the nation which they
created believes it still.</p>
<p>An age of war furnishes, however, occasion for the exercise of baser
impulses. The New Englander was a trader by instinct. An army had come
suddenly together and there was golden promise of contracts for supplies
at fat profits.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</SPAN></span>
The leader from Virginia, untutored in such things, was
astounded at the greedy scramble. Before the year 1775 ended Washington
wrote to his friend Lee that he prayed God he might never again have to
witness such lack of public spirit, such jobbing and self-seeking, such
<q>fertility in all the low arts,</q> as now he found at Cambridge. He declared
that if he could have foreseen all this nothing would have induced him to
take the command. Later, the young La Fayette, who had left behind him in
France wealth and luxury in order to fight a hard fight in America, was
shocked at the slackness and indifference among the supposed patriots for
whose cause he was making sacrifices so heavy. In the backward parts of
the colonies the population was densely ignorant and had little grasp of
the deeper meaning of the patriot cause.</p>
<p>The army was, as Washington himself said, <q>a mixed multitude.</q> There was
every variety of dress. Old uniforms, treasured from the days of the last
French wars, had been dug out. A military coat or a cocked hat was the
only semblance of uniform possessed by some of the officers. Rank was
often indicated by ribbons of different colors tied on the arm. Lads from
the farms had come in their usual dress; a good many of these were
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</SPAN></span>
hunters
from the frontier wearing the buckskin of the deer they had slain.
Sometimes there was clothing of grimmer material. Later in the war in
American officer recorded that his men had skinned two dead Indians <q>from
their hips down, for bootlegs, one pair for the Major, the other for
myself.</q> The volunteers varied greatly in age. There were bearded veterans
of sixty and a sprinkling of lads of sixteen. An observer laughed at the
boys and the <q>great great grandfathers</q> who marched side by side in the
army before Boston. Occasionally a black face was seen in the ranks. One
of Washington's tasks was to reduce the disparity of years and especially
to secure men who could shoot. In the first enthusiasm of 1775 so many men
volunteered in Virginia that a selection was made on the basis of accuracy
in shooting. The men fired at a range of one hundred and fifty yards at an
outline of a man's nose in chalk on a board. Each man had a single shot
and the first men shot the nose entirely away.</p>
<p>Undoubtedly there was the finest material among the men lounging about
their quarters at Cambridge in fashion so unmilitary. In physique they
were larger than the British soldier, a result due to abundant food and
free life in the open air
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</SPAN></span>
from childhood. Most of the men supplied their
own uniform and rifles and much barter went on in the hours after drill.
The men made and sold shoes, clothes, and even arms. They were accustomed
to farm life and good at digging and throwing up entrenchments. The
colonial mode of waging war was, however, not that of Europe. To the
regular soldier of the time even earth entrenchments seemed a sign of
cowardice. The brave man would come out on the open to face his foe. Earl
Percy, who rescued the harassed British on the day of Lexington, had the
poorest possible opinion of those on what he called the rebel side. To him
they were intriguing rascals, hypocrites, cowards, with sinister designs
to ruin the Empire. But he was forced to admit that they fought well and
faced death willingly.</p>
<p>In time Washington gathered about him a fine body of officers, brave,
steady, and efficient. On the great issue they, like himself, had
unchanging conviction, and they and he saved the revolution. But a good
many of his difficulties were due to bad officers. He had himself the
reverence for gentility, the belief in an ordered grading of society,
characteristic of his class in that age. In Virginia the relation of
master and servant was
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</SPAN></span>
well understood and the tone of authority was
readily accepted. In New England conceptions of equality were more
advanced. The extent to which the people would brook the despotism of
military command was uncertain. From the first some of the volunteers had
elected their officers. The result was that intriguing demagogues were
sometimes chosen. The Massachusetts troops, wrote a Connecticut captain,
not free, perhaps, from local jealousy, were <q>commanded by a most
despicable set of officers.</q> At Bunker Hill officers of this type shirked
the fight and their men, left without leaders, joined in the panicky
retreat of that day. Other officers sent away soldiers to work on their
farms while at the same time they drew for them public pay. At a later
time Washington wrote to a friend wise counsel about the choice of
officers. <q>Take none but gentlemen; let no local attachment influence you;
do not suffer your good nature to say Yes when you ought to say No.
Remember that it is a public, not a private cause.</q> What he desired was
the gentleman's chivalry of refinement, sense of honor, dignity of
character, and freedom from mere self-seeking. The prime qualities of a
good officer, as he often said, were authority and decision. It is
probably true of
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</SPAN></span>
democracies that they prefer and will follow the man who
will take with them a strong tone. Little men, however, cannot see this
and think to gain support by shifty changes of opinion to please the
multitude. What authority and decision could be expected from an officer
of the peasant type, elected by his own men? How could he dominate men
whose short term of service was expiring and who had to be coaxed to renew
it? Some elected officers had to promise to pool their pay with that of
their men. In one company an officer fulfilled the double position of
captain and barber. In time, however, the authority of military rank came
to be respected throughout the whole army. An amusing contrast with
earlier conditions is found in 1779 when a captain was tried by a brigade
court-martial and dismissed from the service for intimate association with
the wagon-maker of the brigade.</p>
<p>The first thing to do at Cambridge was to get rid of the inefficient and
the corrupt. Washington had never any belief in a militia army. From his
earliest days as a soldier he had favored conscription, even in free
Virginia. He had then found quite ineffective the <q>whooping, holloing
gentlemen soldiers</q> of the volunteer force of the colony
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</SPAN></span>
among whom <q>every individual has his own crude notion of things and must
undertake to direct. If his advice is neglected he thinks himself
slighted, abused, and injured and, to redress his wrongs, will depart for
his home.</q> Washington found at Cambridge too many officers. Then as
later in the American army there were swarms of colonels. The officers
from Massachusetts, conscious that they had seen the first fighting in
the great cause, expected special consideration from a stranger serving
on their own soil. Soon they had a rude awakening. Washington broke a
Massachusetts colonel and two captains because they had proved cowards at
Bunker Hill, two more captains for fraud in drawing pay and provisions
for men who did not exist, and still another for absence from his post
when he was needed. He put in jail a colonel, a major, and three or four
other officers. <q>New lords, new laws,</q> wrote in his diary Mr.
Emerson, the chaplain: <q>the Generals Washington and Lee are upon the
lines every day… great distinction is made between
officers and soldiers.</q></p>
<p>The term of all the volunteers in Washington's army expired by the end of
1775, so that he had to create a new army during the siege of Boston. He
spoke scornfully of an enemy so little enterprising
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</SPAN></span>
as to remain supine
during the process. But probably the British were wise to avoid a venture
inland and to remain in touch with their fleet. Washington made them
uneasy when he drove away the cattle from the neighborhood. Soon beef was
selling in Boston for as much as eighteen pence a pound. Food might reach
Boston in ships but supplies even by sea were insecure, for the Americans
soon had privateers manned by seamen familiar with New England waters and
happy in expected gains from prize money. The British were anxious about
the elementary problem of food. They might have made Washington more
uncomfortable by forays and alarms. Only reluctantly, however, did Howe,
who took over the command on October 10, 1775, admit to himself that this
was a real war. He still hoped for settlement without further bloodshed.
Washington was glad to learn that the British were laying in supplies of
coal for the winter. It meant that they intended to stay in Boston, where,
more than in any other place, he could make trouble for them.</p>
<p>Washington had more on his mind than the creation of an army and the siege
of Boston. He had also to decide the strategy of the war. On the long
American sea front Boston alone remained in
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</SPAN></span>
British hands. New York,
Philadelphia, Charleston and other ports farther south were all, for the
time, on the side of the Revolution. Boston was not a good naval base for
the British, since it commanded no great waterway leading inland. The
sprawling colonies, from the rock-bound coast of New England to the swamps
and forests of Georgia, were strong in their incoherent vastness. There
were a thousand miles of seacoast. Only rarely were considerable
settlements to be found more than a hundred miles distant from salt water.
An army marching to the interior would have increasing difficulties from
transport and supplies. Wherever water routes could be used the naval
power of the British gave them an advantage. One such route was the
Hudson, less a river than a navigable arm of the sea, leading to the heart
of the colony of New York, its upper waters almost touching Lake George
and Lake Champlain, which in turn led to the St. Lawrence in Canada and
thence to the sea. Canada was held by the British; and it was clear that,
if they should take the city of New York, they might command the whole
line from the mouth of the Hudson to the St. Lawrence, and so cut off New
England from the other colonies and overcome a divided enemy. To foil this
policy
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</SPAN></span>
Washington planned to hold New York and to capture Canada. With
Canada in line the union of the colonies would be indeed continental, and,
if the British were driven from Boston, they would have no secure foothold
in North America.</p>
<p>The danger from Canada had always been a source of anxiety to the English
colonies. The French had made Canada a base for attempts to drive the
English from North America. During many decades war had raged along the
Canadian frontier. With the cession of Canada to Britain in 1763 this
danger had vanished. The old habit endured, however, of fear of Canada.
When, in 1774, the British Parliament passed the bill for the government
of Canada known as the Quebec Act, there was violent clamor. The measure
was assumed to be a calculated threat against colonial liberty. The Quebec
Act continued in Canada the French civil law and the ancient privileges of
the Roman Catholic Church. It guaranteed order in the wild western region
north of the Ohio, taken recently from France, by placing it under the
authority long exercised there of the Governor of Quebec. Only a vivid
imagination would conceive that to allow to the French in Canada their old
loved customs and laws involved designs against the freedom under
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</SPAN></span>
English
law in the other colonies, or that to let the Canadians retain in respect
to religion what they had always possessed meant a sinister plot against
the Protestantism of the English colonies. Yet Alexander Hamilton, perhaps
the greatest mind in the American Revolution, had frantic suspicions.
French laws in Canada involved, he said, the extension of French despotism
in the English colonies. The privileges continued to the Roman Catholic
Church in Canada would be followed in due course by the Inquisition, the
burning of heretics at the stake in Boston and New York, and the bringing
from Europe of Roman Catholic settlers who would prove tools for the
destruction of religious liberty. Military rule at Quebec meant, sooner or
later, despotism everywhere in America. We may smile now at the youthful
Hamilton's picture of <q>dark designs</q> and <q>deceitful wiles</q> on
the part of that fierce Protestant George III to establish Roman Catholic
despotism, but the colonies regarded the danger as serious. The quick
remedy would be simply to take Canada, as Washington now planned.</p>
<p>To this end something had been done before Washington assumed the command.
The British Fort Ticonderoga, on the neck of land separating
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</SPAN></span>
Lake Champlain from Lake George, commanded the route from New York to Canada.
The fight at Lexington in April had been quickly followed by aggressive
action against this British stronghold. No news of Lexington had reached
the fort when early in May Colonel Ethan Allen, with Benedict Arnold
serving as a volunteer in his force of eighty-three men, arrived in
friendly guise. The fort was held by only forty-eight British; with the
menace from France at last ended they felt secure; discipline was slack,
for there was nothing to do. The incompetent commander testified that he
lent Allen twenty men for some rough work on the lake. By evening Allen
had them all drunk and then it was easy, without firing a shot, to capture
the fort with a rush. The door to Canada was open. Great stores of
ammunition and a hundred and twenty guns, which in due course were used
against the British at Boston, fell into American hands.</p>
<p>About Canada Washington was ill-informed. He thought of the Canadians as
if they were Virginians or New Yorkers. They had been recently conquered
by Britain; their new king was a tyrant; they would desire liberty and
would welcome an American army. So reasoned Washington, but without
knowledge. The Canadians were a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</SPAN></span>
conquered people, but they had found the
British king no tyrant and they had experienced the paradox of being freer
under the conqueror than they had been under their own sovereign. The last
days of French rule in Canada were disgraced by corruption and tyranny
almost unbelievable. The Canadian peasant had been cruelly robbed and he
had conceived for his French rulers a dislike which appears still in his
attitude towards the motherland of France. For his new British master he
had assuredly no love, but he was no longer dragged off to war and his
property was not plundered. He was free, too, to speak his mind. During
the first twenty years after the British conquest of Canada the Canadian
French matured indeed an assertive liberty not even dreamed of during the
previous century and a half of French rule.</p>
<p>The British tyranny which Washington pictured in Canada was thus not very
real. He underestimated, too, the antagonism between the Roman Catholics
of Canada and the Protestants of the English colonies. The Congress at
Philadelphia in denouncing the Quebec Act had accused the Catholic Church
of bigotry, persecution, murder, and rebellion. This was no very tactful
appeal for sympathy to the sons of that France which was still
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</SPAN></span>
the eldest
daughter of the Church and it was hardly helped by a maladroit turn
suggesting that <q>low-minded infirmities</q> should not permit such
differences to block union in the sacred cause of liberty. Washington
believed that two battalions of Canadians might be recruited to fight the
British, and that the French Acadians of Nova Scotia, a people so remote
that most of them hardly knew what the war was about, were tingling with
sympathy for the American cause. In truth the Canadian was not prepared to
fight on either side. What the priest and the landowner could do to make
him fight for Britain was done, but, for all that, Sir Guy Carleton, the
Governor of Canada, found recruiting impossible.</p>
<p>Washington believed that the war would be won by the side which held
Canada. He saw that from Canada would be determined the attitude of the
savages dwelling in the wild spaces of the interior; he saw, too, that
Quebec as a military base in British hands would be a source of grave
danger. The easy capture of Fort Ticonderoga led him to underrate
difficulties. If Ticonderoga why not Quebec? Nova Scotia might be occupied
later, the Acadians helping. Thus it happened that, soon after taking over
the command, Washington was
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</SPAN></span>
busy with a plan for the conquest of Canada. Two forces were to advance
into that country; one by way of Lake Champlain under General Schuyler
and the other through the forests of Maine under Benedict Arnold.</p>
<p>Schuyler was obliged through illness to give up his command, and it was an
odd fortune of war that put General Richard Montgomery at the head of the
expedition going by way of Lake Champlain. Montgomery had served with
Wolfe at the taking of Louisbourg and had been an officer in the proud
British army which had received the surrender of Canada in 1760. Not
without searching of heart had Montgomery turned against his former
sovereign. He was living in America when war broke out; he had married
into an American family of position; and he had come to the view that
vital liberty was challenged by the King. Now he did his work well, in
spite of very bad material in his army. His New Englanders were, he said,
<q>every man a general and not one of them a soldier.</q> They feigned
sickness, though, as far as he had learned, there was <q>not a man dead of
any distemper.</q> No better were the men from New York, <q>the sweepings
of the streets</q> with morals <q>infamous.</q> Of the officers, too,
Montgomery had a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</SPAN></span>
poor opinion. Like Washington he declared that it was necessary to get
gentlemen, men of education and integrity, as officers, or disaster would
follow. Nevertheless St. Johns, a British post on the Richelieu, about
thirty miles across country from Montreal, fell to Montgomery on the 3d of
November, after a siege of six weeks; and British regulars under Major
Preston, a brave and competent officer, yielded to a crude volunteer army
with whole regiments lacking uniforms. Montreal could make no defense. On
the 12th of November Montgomery entered Montreal and was in control of the
St. Lawrence almost to the cliffs of Quebec. Canada seemed indeed an easy
conquest.</p>
<p>The adventurous Benedict Arnold went on an expedition more hazardous. He
had persuaded Washington of the impossible, that he could advance through
the wilderness from the seacoast of Maine and take Quebec by surprise.
News travels even by forest pathways. Arnold made a wonderful effort.
Chill autumn was upon him when, on the 25th of September, with about a
thousand picked men, he began to advance up the Kennebec River and over
the height of land to the upper waters of the Chaudière, which
discharges into the St. Lawrence opposite Quebec. There were heavy
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</SPAN></span>
rains. Sometimes
the men had to wade breast high in dragging heavy and leaking boats over
the difficult places. A good many men died of starvation. Others deserted
and turned back. The indomitable Arnold pressed on, however, and on the
9th of November, a few days before Montgomery occupied Montreal, he stood
with some six hundred worn and shivering men on the strand of the St.
Lawrence opposite Quebec. He had not surprised the city and it looked grim
and inaccessible as he surveyed it across the great river. In the autumn
gales it was not easy to carry over his little army in small boats. But
this he accomplished and then waited for Montgomery to join him.</p>
<p>By the 3d of December Montgomery was with Arnold before Quebec. They had
hardly more than a thousand effective troops, together with a few hundred
Canadians, upon whom no reliance could be placed. Carleton, commanding at
Quebec, sat tight and would hold no communication with despised <q>rebels.</q>
<q>They all pretend to be gentlemen,</q> said an astonished British officer in
Quebec, when he heard that among the American officers now captured by the
British there were a former blacksmith, a butcher, a shoemaker, and an
innkeeper. Montgomery was stung to violent
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</SPAN></span>
threats by Carleton's contempt,
but never could he draw from Carleton a reply. At last Montgomery tried,
in the dark of early morning of New Year's Day, 1776, to carry Quebec by
storm. He was to lead an attack on the Lower Town from the west side,
while Arnold was to enter from the opposite side. When they met in the
center they were to storm the citadel on the heights above. They counted
on the help of the French inhabitants, from whom Carleton said bitterly
enough that he had nothing to fear in prosperity and nothing to hope for
in adversity. Arnold pressed his part of the attack with vigor and
penetrated to the streets of the Lower Town where he fell wounded. Captain
Daniel Morgan, who took over the command, was made prisoner.</p>
<p>Montgomery's fate was more tragic. In spite of protests from his officers,
he led in person the attack from the west side of the fortress. The
advance was along a narrow road under the towering cliffs of a great
precipice. The attack was expected by the British and the guard at the
barrier was ordered to hold its fire until the enemy was near. Suddenly
there was a roar of cannon and the assailants not swept down fled in
panic. With the morning light the dead head of Montgomery was
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</SPAN></span>
found protruding from the snow. He was mourned by Washington and with
reason. He had talents and character which might have made him one of the
chief leaders of the revolutionary army. Elsewhere, too, was he mourned.
His father, an Irish landowner, had been a member of the British
Parliament, and he himself was a Whig, known to Fox and Burke. When news
of his death reached England eulogies upon him came from the Whig benches
in Parliament which could not have been stronger had he died fighting for
the King.</p>
<hr class="break" />
<p>While the outlook in Canada grew steadily darker, the American cause
prospered before Boston. There Howe was not at ease. If it was really to
be war, which he still doubted, it would be well to seek some other base.
Washington helped Howe to take action. Dorchester Heights commanded Boston
as critically from the south as did Bunker Hill from the north. By the end
of February Washington had British cannon, brought with heavy labor from
Ticonderoga, and then he lost no time. On the morning of March 5, 1776,
Howe awoke to find that, under cover of a heavy bombardment, American
troops had occupied Dorchester Heights and that if he would dislodge
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</SPAN></span>
them
he must make another attack similar to that at Bunker Hill. The
alternative of stiff fighting was the evacuation of Boston. Howe, though
dilatory, was a good fighting soldier. His defects as a general in America
sprang in part from his belief that the war was unjust and that delay
might bring counsels making for peace and save bloodshed. His first
decision was to attack, but a furious gale thwarted his purpose, and he
then prepared for the inevitable step.</p>
<p>Washington divined Howe's purpose and there was a tacit agreement that the
retiring army should not be molested. Howe destroyed munitions of war
which he could not take away but he left intact the powerful defenses of
Boston, defenses reared at the cost of Britain. Many of the better class
of the inhabitants, British in their sympathies, were now face to face
with bitter sorrow and sacrifice. Passions were so aroused that a hard
fate awaited them should they remain in Boston and they decided to leave
with the British army. Travel by land was blocked; they could go only by
sea. When the time came to depart, laden carriages, trucks, and
wheelbarrows crowded to the quays through the narrow streets and a sad
procession of exiles went out from their homes. A profane critic
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</SPAN></span>
said that
they moved <q>as if the very devil was after them.</q> No doubt many of them
would have been arrogant and merciless to <q>rebels</q> had theirs been the
triumph. But the day was above all a day of sorrow. Edward Winslow, a
strong leader among them, tells of his tears <q>at leaving our once happy
town of Boston.</q> The ships, a forest of masts, set sail and, crowded with
soldiers and refugees, headed straight out to sea for Halifax. Abigail,
wife of John Adams, a clever woman, watched the departure of the fleet
with gladness in her heart. She thought that never before had been seen in
America so many ships bearing so many people. Washington's army marched
joyously into Boston. Joyous it might well be since, for the moment,
powerful Britain was not secure in a single foot of territory in the
former colonies. If Quebec should fall the continent would be almost
conquered.</p>
<p>Quebec did not fall. All through the winter the Americans held on before
the place. They shivered from cold. They suffered from the dread disease
of smallpox. They had difficulty in getting food. The Canadians were
insistent on having good money for what they offered and since good money
was not always in the treasury the invading army
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</SPAN></span>
sometimes used violence.
Then the Canadians became more reserved and chilling than ever. In hope of
mending matters Congress sent a commission to Montreal in the spring of
1776. Its chairman was Benjamin Franklin and, with him, were two leading
Roman Catholics, Charles Carroll of Carrollton, a great landowner of
Maryland, and his brother John, a priest, afterwards Archbishop of
Baltimore. It was not easy to represent as the liberator of the Catholic
Canadians the Congress which had denounced in scathing terms the
concessions in the Quebec Act to the Catholic Church. Franklin was a
master of conciliation, but before he achieved anything a dramatic event
happened. On the 6th of May, British ships arrived at Quebec. The
inhabitants rushed to the ramparts. Cries of joy passed from street to
street and they reached the little American army, now under General
Thomas, encamped on the Plains of Abraham. Panic seized the small force
which had held on so long. On the ships were ten thousand fresh British
troops. The one thing for the Americans to do was to get away; and they
fled, leaving behind guns, supplies, even clothing and private papers.
Five days later Franklin, at Montreal, was dismayed by the distressing
news of disaster.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</SPAN></span>
Congress sent six regiments to reinforce the army which had fled from
Quebec. It was a desperate venture. Washington's orders were that the
Americans should fight the new British army as near Quebec as possible.
The decisive struggle took place on the 8th of June. An American force
under the command of General Thompson attacked Three Rivers, a town on the
St. Lawrence, half way between Quebec and Montreal. They were repulsed and
the general was taken prisoner. The wonder is indeed that the army was not
annihilated. Then followed a disastrous retreat. Short of supplies,
ravaged by smallpox, and in bad weather, the invaders tried to make their
way back to Lake Champlain. They evacuated Montreal. It is hard enough in
the day of success to hold together an untrained army. In the day of
defeat such a force is apt to become a mere rabble. Some of the American
regiments preserved discipline. Others fell into complete disorder as,
weak and discouraged, they retired to Lake Champlain. Many soldiers
perished of disease. <q>I did not look into a hut or a tent,</q> says an
observer, <q>in which I did not find a dead or dying man.</q> Those who had
huts were fortunate. The fate of some was to die without medical care and
without cover. By
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</SPAN></span>
the end of June what was left of the force had reached Crown Point on
Lake Champlain.</p>
<p>Benedict Arnold, who had been wounded at Quebec, was now at Crown Point.
Competent critics of the war have held that what Arnold now did saved the
Revolution. In another scene, before the summer ended, the British had
taken New York and made themselves masters of the lower Hudson. Had they
reached in the same season the upper Hudson by way of Lake Champlain they
would have struck blows doubly staggering. This Arnold saw, and his object
was to delay, if he could not defeat, the British advance. There was no
road through the dense forest by the shores of Lake Champlain and Lake
George to the upper Hudson. The British must go down the lake in boats.
This General Carleton had foreseen and he had urged that with the fleet
sent to Quebec should be sent from England, in sections, boats which could
be quickly carried past the rapids of the Richelieu River and launched on
Lake Champlain. They had not come and the only thing for Carleton to do
was to build a flotilla which could carry an army up the lake and attack
Crown Point. The thing was done but skilled workmen were few and not until
the 5th of October were the little ships afloat
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</SPAN></span>
on Lake Champlain. Arnold, too, spent the summer in building boats to meet
the attack and it was a strange turn in warfare which now made him
commander in a naval fight. There was a brisk struggle on Lake Champlain.
Carleton had a score or so of vessels; Arnold not so many. But he delayed
Carleton. When he was beaten on the water he burned the ships not
captured and took to the land. When he could no longer hold Crown Point
he burned that place and retreated to Ticonderoga.</p>
<p>By this time it was late autumn. The British were far from their base and
the Americans were retreating into a friendly country. There is little
doubt that Carleton could have taken Fort Ticonderoga. It fell quite
easily less than a year later. Some of his officers urged him to press on
and do it. But the leaves had already fallen, the bleak winter was near,
and Carleton pictured to himself an army buried deeply in an enemy country
and separated from its base by many scores of miles of lake and forest. He
withdrew to Canada and left Lake Champlain to the Americans.</p>
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<div class="chapterhead">
<br/><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</SPAN></span>
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