CHAPTER 12
1690.
MASSACHUSETTS ATTACKS QUEBEC.
ENGLISH SCHEMES, CAPTURE OF PORT ROYAL, ACADIA REDUCED, CONDUCT OF PHIPS, HIS HISTORY AND CHARACTER, BOSTON IN ARMS, A PURITAN CRUSADE, THE MARCH FROM ALBANY, FRONTENAC AND THE COUNCIL, FRONTENAC AT MONTREAL, HIS WAR DANCE, AN ABORTIVE EXPEDITION, AN ENGLISH RAID, FRONTENAC AT QUEBEC, DEFENCES OF THE TOWN, THE ENEMY ARRIVES.
When Frontenac sent his war-parties against New York and New England, it was in the hope not only of reanimating the Canadians, but also of teaching the Iroquois that they could not safely rely on English aid, and of inciting the Abenakis to renew their attacks on the border settlements.  He imagined, too, that the British colonies could be chastised into prudence and taught a policy of conciliation towards their Canadian neighbors; but he mistook the character of these bold and vigorous though not martial communities.  The plan of a combined attack on Canada seems to have been first proposed by the Iroquois; and New York and the several governments of New England, smarting under French and Indian attacks, hastened to embrace it.  Early in May, a congress of their delegates was held in the city of New York.  It was agreed that the colony of that name should furnish four hundred men, and Massachusetts, Plymouth, and Connecticut three hundred and fifty-five jointly; while the Iroquois afterwards added their worthless pledge to join the expedition with nearly all their warriors.  The colonial militia were to rendezvous at Albany, and thence advance upon Montreal by way of Lake Champlain.  Mutual jealousies made it difficult to agree upon a commander; but Winthrop of Connecticut was at length placed at the head of the feeble and discordant band.

While Montreal was thus assailed by land, Massachusetts and the other New England colonies were invited to attack Quebec by sea; a task formidable in difficulty and in cost, and one that imposed on them an inordinate share in the burden of the war.  Massachusetts hesitated.  She had no money, and she was already engaged in a less remote and less critical enterprise.  During the winter, her commerce had suffered from French cruisers, which found convenient harborage at Port Royal, whence also the hostile Indians were believed to draw supplies Seven vessels, with two hundred and eighty-eight sailors, were impressed, and from four to five hundred militia-men were drafted for the service.  That rugged son of New England, Sir William Phips, was appointed to the command.  He sailed from Nantasket at the end of April, reached Port Royal on the eleventh of May, landed his militia, and summoned Meneval, the governor, to surrender.  The fort, though garrisoned by about seventy soldiers, was scarcely in condition to repel an assault; and Meneval yielded without resistance, first stipulating, according to French accounts, that private property should be respected, the church left untouched, and the troops sent to Quebec or to France.  It was found, however, that during the parley a quantity of goods, belonging partly to the king and partly to merchants of the place, had been carried off and hidden in the woods.  Phips thought this a sufficient pretext for plundering the merchants, imprisoning the troops, and desecrating the church.  "We cut down the cross," writes one of his followers, "rifled their church, pulled down their high altar, and broke their images." The houses of the two priests were also pillaged.  The people were promised security to life, liberty, and property, on condition of swearing allegiance to King William and Queen Mary; "which," says the journalist, "they did with great acclamation," and thereupon they were left unmolested.  The lawful portion of the booty included twenty-one pieces of cannon, with a considerable sum of money belonging to the king.  The smaller articles, many of which were taken from the merchants and from such of the settlers as refused the oath, were packed in hogsheads and sent on board the ships.  Phips took no measures to secure his conquest, though he commissioned a president and six councillors, chosen from the inhabitants, to govern the settlement till farther orders from the crown or from the authorities of Massachusetts.  The president was directed to constrain nobody in the matter of religion; and he was assured of protection and support so long as he remained "faithful to our government," that is, the government of Massachusetts.  The little Puritan commonwealth already gave itself airs of sovereignty.

Phips now sent Captain Alden, who had already taken possession of Saint-Castin's post at Penobscot, to seize upon La Heve, Chedabucto, and other stations on the southern coast.  Then, after providing for the reduction of the settlements at the head of the Bay of Fundy, he sailed, with the rest of the fleet, for Boston, where he arrived triumphant on the thirtieth of May, bringing with him, as prisoners, the French governor, fifty-nine soldiers, and the two priests, Petit and Trouve.  Massachusetts had made an easy conquest of all Acadia; a conquest, however, which she had neither the men nor the money to secure by sufficient garrisons.

The conduct of the New England commander in this affair does him no credit.  It is true that no blood was spilt, and no revenge taken for the repeated butcheries of unoffending and defenceless settlers.  It is true, also, that the French appear to have acted in bad faith.  But Phips, on the other hand, displayed a scandalous rapacity.  Charlevoix says that he robbed Meneval of all his money; but Meneval himself affirms that he gave it to the English commander for safe keeping, and that Phips and his wife would return neither the money nor various other articles belonging to the captive governor, whereof the following are specified: "Six silver spoons, six silver forks, one silver cup in the shape of a gondola, a pair of pistols, three new wigs, a gray vest, four pair of silk garters, two dozen of shirts, six vests of dimity, four nightcaps with lace edgings, all my table service of fine tin, all my kitchen linen," and many other items which give an amusing insight into Meneval's housekeeping.  

Meneval, with the two priests, was confined in a house at Boston, under guard.  He says that he petitioned the governor and council for redress; "but, as they have little authority and stand in fear of Phips, who is supported by the rabble, to which he himself once belonged, and of which he is now the chief, they would do nothing for me." This statement of Meneval is not quite correct: for an order of the council is on record, requiring Phips to restore his chest and clothes; and, as the order received no attention, Governor Bradstreet wrote to the refractory commander a note, enjoining him to obey it at once.  Phips thereupon gave up some of the money and the worst part of the clothing, still keeping the rest.  After long delay, the council released Meneval: upon which, Phips and the populace whom he controlled demanded that he should be again imprisoned; but the "honest people" of the town took his part, his persecutor was forced to desist, and he set sail covertly for France.  This, at least, is his own account of the affair.

As Phips was to play a conspicuous part in the events that immediately followed, some notice of him will not be amiss.  He is said to have been one of twenty-six children, all of the same mother, and was born in 1650 at a rude border settlement, since called Woolwich, on the Kennebec.  His parents were ignorant and poor; and till eighteen years of age he was employed in keeping sheep.  Such a life ill suited his active and ambitious nature.  To better his condition, he learned the trade of ship-carpenter, and, in the exercise of it, came to Boston, where he married a widow with some property, beyond him in years, and much above him in station.  About this time, he learned to read and write, though not too well, for his signature is like that of a peasant.  Still aspiring to greater things, he promised his wife that he would one day command a king's ship and own a "fair brick house in the Green Lane of North Boston," a quarter then occupied by citizens of the better class.  He kept his word at both points.  Fortune was inauspicious to him for several years; till at length, under the pressure of reverses, he conceived the idea of conquering fame and wealth at one stroke, by fishing up the treasure said to be stored in a Spanish galleon wrecked fifty years before somewhere in the West Indian seas.  Full of this project, he went to England, where, through influences which do not plainly appear, he gained a hearing from persons in high places, and induced the admiralty to adopt his scheme.  A frigate was given him, and he sailed for the West Indies; whence, after a long search, he returned unsuccessful, though not without adventures which proved his mettle.  It was the epoch of the buccaneers; and his crew, tired of a vain and toilsome search, came to the quarterdeck, armed with cutlasses, and demanded of their captain that he should turn pirate with them.  Phips, a tall and powerful man, instantly fell upon them with his fists, knocked down the ringleaders, and awed them all into submission.  Not long after, there was a more formidable mutiny; but, with great courage and address, he quelled it for a time, and held his crew to their duty till he had brought the ship into Jamaica, and exchanged them for better men.

Though the leaky condition of the frigate compelled him to abandon the search, it was not till he had gained information which he thought would lead to success; and, on his return, he inspired such confidence that the Duke of Albemarle, with other noblemen and gentlemen, gave him a fresh outfit, and despatched him again on his Quixotic errand.  This time he succeeded, found the wreck, and took from it gold, silver, and jewels to the value of three hundred thousand pounds sterling.  The crew now leagued together to seize the ship and divide the prize; and Phips, pushed to extremity, was compelled to promise that every man of them should have a share in the treasure, even if he paid it himself.  On reaching England, he kept his pledge so well that, after redeeming it, only sixteen thousand pounds was left as his portion, which, however, was an ample fortune in the New England of that day.  He gained, too, what he valued almost as much, the honor of knighthood.  Tempting offers were made him of employment in the royal service; but he had an ardent love for his own country, and thither he presently returned.

Phips was a rude sailor, bluff, prompt, and choleric.  He never gave proof of intellectual capacity; and such of his success in life as he did not owe to good luck was due probably to an energetic and adventurous spirit, aided by a blunt frankness of address that pleased the great, and commended him to their favor.  Two years after the expedition to Port Royal, the king, under the new charter, made him governor of Massachusetts, a post for which, though totally unfit, he had been recommended by the elder Mather, who, like his son Cotton, expected to make use of him.  He carried his old habits into his new office, cudgelled Brinton, the collector of the port, and belabored Captain Short of the royal navy with his cane.  Far from trying to hide the obscurity of his origin, he leaned to the opposite foible, and was apt to boast of it, delighting to exhibit himself as a self-made man.  New England writers describe him as honest in private dealings; but, in accordance with his coarse nature, he seems to have thought that any thing is fair in war.  On the other hand, he was warmly patriotic, and was almost as ready to serve New England as to serve himself.  

When he returned from Port Royal, he found Boston alive with martial preparation.  A bold enterprise was afoot.  Massachusetts of her own motion had resolved to attempt the conquest of Quebec.  She and her sister colonies had not yet recovered from the exhaustion of Philip's war, and still less from the disorders that attended the expulsion of the royal governor and his adherents.  The public treasury was empty, and the recent expeditions against the eastern Indians had been supported by private subscription.  Worse yet, New England had no competent military commander.  The Puritan gentlemen of the original emigration, some of whom were as well fitted for military as for civil leadership, had passed from the stage; and, by a tendency which circumstances made inevitable, they had left none behind them equally qualified.  The great Indian conflict of fifteen years before had, it is true, formed good partisan chiefs, and proved that the New England yeoman, defending his family and his hearth, was not to be surpassed in stubborn fighting; but, since Andros and his soldiers had been driven out, there was scarcely a single man in the colony of the slightest training or experience in regular war.  Up to this moment, New England had never asked help of the mother country.  When thousands of savages burst on her defenceless settlements, she had conquered safety and peace with her own blood and her own slender resources; but now, as the proposed capture of Quebec would inure to the profit of the British crown, Bradstreet and his council thought it not unfitting to ask for a supply of arms and ammunition, of which they were in great need.  The request was refused, and no aid of any kind came from the English government, whose resources were engrossed by the Irish war.

While waiting for the reply, the colonial authorities urged on their preparations, in the hope that the plunder of Quebec would pay the expenses of its conquest.  Humility was not among the New England virtues, and it was thought a sin to doubt that God would give his chosen people the victory over papists and idolaters; yet no pains were spared to ensure the divine favor.  A proclamation was issued, calling the people to repentance; a day of fasting was ordained; and, as Mather expresses it, "the wheel of prayer was kept in continual motion." The chief difficulty was to provide funds.  An attempt was made to collect a part of the money by private subscription; but, as this plan failed, the provisional government, already in debt, strained its credit yet farther, and borrowed the needful sums.  Thirty-two trading and fishing vessels, great and small, were impressed for the service.  The largest was a ship called the "Six Friends," engaged in the dangerous West India trade, and carrying forty-four guns.  A call was made for volunteers, and many enrolled themselves; but, as more were wanted, a press was ordered to complete the number.  So rigorously was it applied that, what with voluntary and enforced enlistment, one town, that of Gloucester, was deprived of two-thirds of its fencible men.  There was not a moment of doubt as to the choice of a commander, for Phips was imagined to be the very man for the work.  One John Walley, a respectable citizen of Barnstable, was made second in command with the modest rank of major; and a sufficient number of ship-masters, merchants, master mechanics, and substantial farmers, were commissioned as subordinate officers.  About the middle of July, the committee charged with the preparations reported that all was ready.  Still there was a long delay.  The vessel sent early in spring to ask aid from England had not returned.  Phips waited for her as long as he dared, and the best of the season was over when he resolved to put to sea.  The rustic warriors, duly formed into companies, were sent on board; and the fleet sailed from Nantasket on the ninth of August.  Including sailors, it carried twenty-two hundred men, with provisions for four months, but insufficient ammunition and no pilot for the Saint Lawrence.  

While Massachusetts was making ready to conquer Quebec by sea, the militia of the land expedition against Montreal had mustered at Albany.  Their strength was even less than was at first proposed; for, after the disaster at Casco, Massachusetts and Plymouth had recalled their contingents to defend their frontiers.  The rest, decimated by dysentery and small-pox, began their march to Lake Champlain, with bands of Mohawk, Oneida, and Mohegan allies.  The western Iroquois were to join them at the lake, and the combined force was then to attack the head of the colony, while Phips struck at its heart.

Frontenac was at Quebec during most of the winter and the early spring.  When he had despatched the three war-parties, whose hardy but murderous exploits were to bring this double storm upon him, he had an interval of leisure, of which he made a characteristic use.  The English and the Iroquois were not his only enemies.  He had opponents within as well as without, and he counted as among them most of the members of the supreme council.  Here was the bishop, representing that clerical power which had clashed so often with the civil rule; here was that ally of the Jesuits, the intendant Champigny, who, when Frontenac arrived, had written mournfully to Versailles that he would do his best to live at peace with him; here were Villeray and Auteuil, whom the governor had once banished, Damours, whom he had imprisoned, and others scarcely more agreeable to him.  They and their clerical friends had conspired for his recall seven or eight years before; they had clung to Denonville, that faithful son of the Church, in spite of all his failures; and they had seen with troubled minds the return of King Stork in the person of the haughty and irascible count.  He on his part felt his power.  The country was in deadly need of him, and looked to him for salvation; while the king had shown him such marks of favor, that, for the moment at least, his enemies must hold their peace.  Now, therefore, was the time to teach them that he was their master.  Whether trivial or important the occasion mattered little.  What he wanted was a conflict and a victory, or submission without a conflict.

The supreme council had held its usual weekly meetings since Frontenac's arrival; but as yet he had not taken his place at the board, though his presence was needed.  Auteuil, the attorney-general, was thereupon deputed to invite him.  He visited the count at his apartment in the chateau, but could get from him no answer, except that the council was able to manage its own business, and that he would come when the king's service should require it.  The councillors divined that he was waiting for some assurance that they would receive him with befitting ceremony; and, after debating the question, they voted to send four of their number to repeat the invitation, and beg the governor to say what form of reception would be agreeable to him.  Frontenac answered that it was for them to propose the form, and that, when they did so, he would take the subject into consideration.  The deputies returned, and there was another debate.  A ceremony was devised, which it was thought must needs be acceptable to the count; and the first councillor, Villeray, repaired to the chateau to submit it to him.  After making him an harangue of compliment, and protesting the anxiety of himself and his colleagues to receive him with all possible honor, he explained the plan, and assured Frontenac that, if not wholly satisfactory, it should be changed to suit his pleasure.  "To which," says the record, "Monsieur the governor only answered that the council could consult the bishop and other persons acquainted with such matters." The bishop was consulted, but pleaded ignorance.  Another debate followed; and the first councillor was again despatched to the chateau, with proposals still more deferential than the last, and full power to yield, in addition, whatever the governor might desire.  Frontenac replied that, though they had made proposals for his reception when he should present himself at the council for the first time, they had not informed him what ceremony they meant to observe when he should come to the subsequent sessions.  This point also having been thoroughly debated, Villeray went again to the count, and with great deference laid before him the following plan: That, whenever it should be his pleasure to make his first visit to the council, four of its number should repair to the chateau, and accompany him, with every mark of honor, to the palace of the intendant, where the sessions were held; and that, on his subsequent visits, two councillors should meet him at the head of the stairs, and conduct him to his seat.  The envoy farther protested that, if this failed to meet his approval, the council would conform itself to all his wishes on the subject.  Frontenac now demanded to see the register in which the proceedings on the question at issue were recorded.  Villeray was directed to carry it to him.  The records had been cautiously made; and, after studying them carefully, he could find nothing at which to cavil.

He received the next deputation with great affability, told them that he was glad to find that the council had not forgotten the consideration due to his office and his person, and assured them, with urbane irony, that, had they offered to accord him marks of distinction greater than they felt were due, he would not have permitted them thus to compromise their dignity, having too much regard for the honor of a body of which he himself was the head.  Then, after thanking them collectively and severally, he graciously dismissed them, saying that he would come to the council after Easter, or in about two months.  During four successive Mondays, he had forced the chief dignitaries of the colony to march in deputations up and down the rugged road from the intendant's palace to the chamber of the chateau where he sat in solitary state.  A disinterested spectator might see the humor of the situation; but the council felt only its vexations.  Frontenac had gained his point: the enemy had surrendered unconditionally.

Having settled this important matter to his satisfaction, he again addressed himself to saving the country.  During the winter, he had employed gangs of men in cutting timber in the forests, hewing it into palisades, and dragging it to Quebec.  Nature had fortified the Upper Town on two sides by cliffs almost inaccessible, but it was open to attack in the rear; and Frontenac, with a happy prevision of approaching danger, gave his first thoughts to strengthening this, its only weak side.  The work began as soon as the frost was out of the ground, and before midsummer it was well advanced.  At the same time, he took every precaution for the safety of the settlements in the upper parts of the colony, stationed detachments of regulars at the stockade forts, which Denonville had built in all the parishes above Three Rivers, and kept strong scouting parties in continual movement in all the quarters most exposed to attack.  Troops were detailed to guard the settlers at their work in the fields, and officers and men were enjoined to use the utmost vigilance.  Nevertheless, the Iroquois war-parties broke in at various points, burning and butchering, and spreading such terror that in some districts the fields were left untilled and the prospects of the harvest ruined.

Towards the end of July, Frontenac left Major Prevost to finish the fortifications, and, with the intendant Champigny, went up to Montreal, the chief point of danger.  Here he arrived on the thirty-first; and, a few days after, the officer commanding the fort at La Chine sent him a messenger in hot haste with the startling news that Lake Saint Louis was "all covered with canoes." Nobody doubted that the Iroquois were upon them again.  Cannon were fired to call in the troops from the detached posts; when alarm was suddenly turned to joy by the arrival of other messengers to announce that the new comers were not enemies, but friends.  They were the Indians of the upper lakes descending from Michillimackinac to trade at Montreal.  Nothing so auspicious had happened since Frontenac's return.  The messages he had sent them in the spring by Louvigny and Perrot, reinforced by the news of the victory on the Ottawa and the capture of Schenectady, had had the desired effect; and the Iroquois prisoner whom their missionary had persuaded them to torture had not been sacrificed in vain.  Despairing of an English market for their beaver skins, they had come as of old to seek one from the French.

On the next day, they all came down the rapids, and landed near the town.  There were fully five hundred of them, Hurons, Ottawas, Ojibwas, Pottawatamies, Crees, and Nipissings, with a hundred and ten canoes laden with beaver skins to the value of nearly a hundred thousand crowns.  Nor was this all; for, a few days after, La Durantaye, late commander at Michillimackinac, arrived with fifty-five more canoes, manned by French traders, and filled with valuable furs.  The stream of wealth dammed back so long was flowing upon the colony at the moment when it was most needed.  Never had Canada known a more prosperous trade than now in the midst of her danger and tribulation.  It was a triumph for Frontenac.  If his policy had failed with the Iroquois, it had found a crowning success among the tribes of the lakes.

Having painted, greased, and befeathered themselves, the Indians mustered for the grand council which always preceded the opening of the market.  The Ottawa orator spoke of nothing but trade, and, with a regretful memory of the cheapness of English goods, begged that the French would sell them at the same rate.  The Huron touched upon politics and war, declaring that he and his people had come to visit their old father and listen to his voice, being well assured that he would never abandon them, as others had done, nor fool away his time, like Denonville, in shameful negotiations for peace; and he exhorted Frontenac to fight, not the English only, but the Iroquois also, till they were brought to reason.  "If this is not done," he said, "my father and I shall both perish; but, come what may, we will perish together." "I answered," writes Frontenac, "that I would fight the Iroquois till they came to beg for peace, and that I would grant them no peace that did not include all my children, both white and red, for I was the father of both alike."

Now ensued a curious scene.  Frontenac took a hatchet, brandished it in the air and sang the war-song.  The principal Frenchmen present followed his example.  The Christian Iroquois of the two neighboring missions rose and joined them, and so also did the Hurons and the Algonquins of Lake Nipissing, stamping and screeching like a troop of madmen; while the governor led the dance, whooping like the rest.  His predecessor would have perished rather than play such a part in such company; but the punctilious old courtier was himself half Indian at heart, as much at home in a wigwam as in the halls of princes.  Another man would have lost respect in Indian eyes by such a performance.  In Frontenac, it roused his audience to enthusiasm.  They snatched the proffered hatchet and promised war to the death.  

Then came a solemn war-feast.  Two oxen and six large dogs had been chopped to pieces for the occasion, and boiled with a quantity of prunes.  Two barrels of wine with abundant tobacco were also served out to the guests, who devoured the meal in a species of frenzy.  All seemed eager for war except the Ottawas, who had not forgotten their late dalliance with the Iroquois.  A Christian Mohawk of the Saut Saint Louis called them to another council, and demanded that they should explain clearly their position.  Thus pushed to the wall, they no longer hesitated, but promised like the rest to do all that their father should ask.

Their sincerity was soon put to the test.  An Iroquois convert called La Plaque, a notorious reprobate though a good warrior, had gone out as a scout in the direction of Albany.  On the day when the market opened and trade was in full activity, the buyers and sellers were suddenly startled by the sound of the death-yell.  They snatched their weapons, and for a moment all was confusion; when La Plaque, who had probably meant to amuse himself at their expense, made his appearance, and explained that the yells proceeded from him.  The news that he brought was, however, sufficiently alarming.  He declared that he had been at Lake Saint Sacrement, or Lake George, and had seen there a great number of men making canoes as if about to advance on Montreal.  Frontenac, thereupon, sent the Chevalier de Clermont to scout as far as Lake Champlain.  Clermont soon sent back one of his followers to announce that he had discovered a party of the enemy, and that they were already on their way down the Richelieu.  Frontenac ordered cannon to be fired to call in the troops, crossed the Saint Lawrence followed by all the Indians, and encamped with twelve hundred men at La Prairie to meet the expected attack.  He waited in vain.  All was quiet, and the Ottawa scouts reported that they could find no enemy.  Three days passed.  The Indians grew impatient, and wished to go home.  Neither English nor Iroquois had shown themselves; and Frontenac, satisfied that their strength had been exaggerated, left a small force at La Prairie, recrossed the river, and distributed the troops again among the neighboring parishes to protect the harvesters.  He now gave ample presents to his departing allies, whose chiefs he had entertained at his own table, and to whom, says Charlevoix, he bade farewell "with those engaging manners which he knew so well how to assume when he wanted to gain anybody to his interest." Scarcely were they gone, when the distant cannon of La Prairie boomed a sudden alarm.

The men whom La Plaque had seen near Lake George were a part of the combined force of Connecticut and New York, destined to attack Montreal.  They had made their way along Wood Creek to the point where it widens into Lake Champlain, and here they had stopped.  Disputes between the men of the two colonies, intestine quarrels in the New York militia, who were divided between the two factions engendered by the late revolution, the want of provisions, the want of canoes, and the ravages of small-pox, had ruined an enterprise which had been mismanaged from the first.  There was no birch bark to make more canoes, and owing to the lateness of the season the bark of the elms would not peel.  Such of the Iroquois as had joined them were cold and sullen; and news came that the three western tribes of the confederacy, terrified by the small-pox, had refused to move.  It was impossible to advance; and Winthrop, the commander, gave orders to return to Albany, leaving Phips to conquer Canada alone.  But first, that the campaign might not seem wholly futile, he permitted Captain John Schuyler to make a raid into Canada with a band of volunteers.  Schuyler left the camp at Wood Creek with twenty-nine whites and a hundred and twenty Indians, passed Lake Champlain, descended the Richelieu to Chambly, and fell suddenly on the settlement of La Prairie, whence Frontenac had just withdrawn with his forces.  Soldiers and inhabitants were reaping in the wheat-fields.  Schuyler and his followers killed or captured twenty-five, including several women.  He wished to attack the neighboring fort, but his Indians refused; and after burning houses, barns, and hay-ricks, and killing a great number of cattle, he seated himself with his party at dinner in the adjacent woods, while cannon answered cannon from Chambly, La Prairie, and Montreal, and the whole country was astir.  "We thanked the Governor of Canada," writes Schuyler, "for his salute of heavy artillery during our meal." 

The English had little to boast in this affair, the paltry termination of an enterprise from which great things had been expected.  Nor was it for their honor to adopt the savage and cowardly mode of warfare in which their enemies had led the way.  The blow that had been struck was less an injury to the French than an insult; but, as such, it galled Frontenac excessively, and he made no mention of it in his despatches to the court.  A few more Iroquois attacks and a few more murders kept Montreal in alarm till the tenth of October, when matters of deeper import engaged the governor's thoughts.

A messenger arrived in haste at three o'clock in the afternoon, and gave him a letter from Prevost, town major of Quebec.  It was to the effect that an Abenaki Indian had just come over land from Acadia, with news that some of his tribe had captured an English woman near Portsmouth, who told them that a great fleet had sailed from Boston to attack Quebec.  Frontenac, not easily alarmed, doubted the report.  Nevertheless, he embarked at once with the intendant in a small vessel, which proved to be leaky, and was near foundering with all on board.  He then took a canoe, and towards evening set out again for Quebec, ordering some two hundred men to follow him.  On the next day, he met another canoe, bearing a fresh message from Prevost, who announced that the English fleet had been seen in the river, and that it was already above Tadoussac.  Frontenac now sent back Captain de Ramsay with orders to Callieres, governor of Montreal, to descend immediately to Quebec with all the force at his disposal, and to muster the inhabitants on the way.  Then he pushed on with the utmost speed.  The autumnal storms had begun, and the rain pelted him without ceasing; but on the morning of the fourteenth he neared the town.  The rocks of Cape Diamond towered before him; the Saint Lawrence lay beneath them, lonely and still; and the Basin of Quebec outspread its broad bosom, a solitude without a sail.  Frontenac had arrived in time.

He landed at the Lower Town, and the troops and the armed inhabitants came crowding to meet him.  He was delighted at their ardor.  Shouts, cheers, and the waving of hats greeted the old man as he climbed the steep ascent of Mountain Street.  Fear and doubt seemed banished by his presence.  Even those who hated him rejoiced at his coming, and hailed him as a deliverer.  He went at once to inspect the fortifications.  Since the alarm a week before, Prevost had accomplished wonders, and not only completed the works begun in the spring, but added others to secure a place which was a natural fortress in itself.  On two sides, the Upper Town scarcely needed defence.  The cliffs along the Saint Lawrence and those along the tributary river Saint Charles had three accessible points, guarded at the present day by the Prescott Gate, the Hope Gate, and the Palace Gate.  Prevost had secured them by barricades of heavy beams and casks filled with earth.  A continuous line of palisades ran along the strand of the Saint Charles, from the great cliff called the Saut au Matelot to the palace of the intendant.  At this latter point began the line of works constructed by Frontenac to protect the rear of the town.  They consisted of palisades, strengthened by a ditch and an embankment, and flanked at frequent intervals by square towers of stone.  Passing behind the garden of the Ursulines, they extended to a windmill on a hillock called Mt.  Carmel, and thence to the brink of the cliffs in front.  Here there was a battery of eight guns near the present Public Garden; two more, each of three guns, were planted at the top of the Saut au Matelot; another at the barricade of the Palace Gate; and another near the windmill of Mt.  Carmel; while a number of light pieces were held in reserve for such use as occasion might require.  The Lower Town had no defensive works; but two batteries, each of three guns, eighteen and twenty-four pounders, were placed here at the edge of the river.  

Two days passed in completing these defences under the eye of the governor.  Men were flocking in from the parishes far and near; and on the evening of the fifteenth about twenty-seven hundred, regulars and militia, were gathered, within the fortifications, besides the armed peasantry of Beauport and Beaupre, who were ordered to watch the river below the town, and resist the English, should they attempt to land.  At length, before dawn on the morning of the sixteenth, the sentinels on the Saut au Matelot could descry the slowly moving lights of distant vessels.  At daybreak the fleet was in sight.  Sail after sail passed the Point of Orleans and glided into the Basin of Quebec.  The excited spectators on the rock counted thirty-four of them.  Four were large ships, several others were of considerable size, and the rest were brigs, schooners, and fishing craft, all thronged with men.