Part 3

At the age of seven, Master Thomson was sent to a private school at Hanwell, whence, three years afterwards, he was transferred to the charge of the Rev. Mr. Wooley, at Middleton. After spending a short time there, he became a pupil of the Rev. Mr. Church, at Hampton, where he remained until he had nearly completed his sixteenth year. He then left school--his education, of course, being far from complete--and entered the service of his father's firm. It was determined that he should begin his mercantile career in the St. Petersburg branch, and in the summer of 1815 he was despatched to Russia. His fine manners and address, combined with the wealth and influence of the firm to which he was allied, obtained him access to the best society of St. Petersburg, where he spent more than two years. In the autumn of 1817, upon his recovery from a rather serious illness, it was thought desirable that he should spend the coming winter in a milder climate than that of St. Petersburg, and he returned to his native land. The next two or three years were spent in travelling on the Continent with other members of his family. He then entered the counting-house in London, where he spent about eighteen months. This brings us down to the year 1821. In the spring of that year he was admitted as a partner in the firm, and once more went out to St. Petersburg, where he again remained nearly two years. He then entered upon a somewhat prolonged tour through central and southern Russia, and across country to Vienna, where he spent the winter of 1823-4, and part of the following spring. Towards the end of April he set out for Paris, where his mother was confined by illness, and where she breathed her last almost immediately after her son's arrival. Mr. Thomson soon afterwards returned to London, where he settled down as one of the managing partners of the commercial establishment. In this capacity he displayed the same energy which subsequently distinguished his political and diplomatic career. He took a lively interest in the political questions of the day; more especially in those relating to commercial matters. He was a pronounced Liberal, and a strenuous advocate of free-trade. In the summer of 1825 advances were made to him to become the Liberal candidate for Dover at the next election. After due consideration he responded favourably to these advances, and was in due course returned by a considerable majority. One of his earliest votes in the House of Commons was in favour of free-trade. He soon became known as a ready and effective speaker, whose judgment on commercial questions was entitled to respect. His zeal for the principles of his party was also conspicuous, and when Earl Grey formed his Administration in November, 1830, the office of Vice-President of the Board of Trade, together with the Treasurership of the Navy, was offered to and accepted by Mr. Thomson. He was at the same time sworn in as a member of the Privy Council. The acceptance of the former office rendered it necessary for him to sever his connection with the commercial firm of which he had up to this time been a member, and he never again engaged in mercantile business of any kind. By this time, indeed, he had established for himself a reputation of no common order. The part he had taken in the debates of the House, and in the proceedings of its Committees, on questions connected with commerce and finance, had proved him to possess not only a clear practical acquaintance with the details of these subjects, but also principles of an enlarged and liberal character, and powers of generalization and a comprehensiveness of view rarely found combined in so young a man. The next three or four years were busy ones with him. It will be remembered that this was the era of the Reform Bill. Mr. Thomson did not take a prominent part in the discussions on that measure, his time being fully occupied with the financial and fiscal policy, but he put forth the weight of his influence in favour of the Bill. His principal efforts, during his tenure of office, were directed to the simplification and amendment of the Customs Act, and to an ineffectual attempt to negotiate a commercial treaty with France. After the dissolution in 1831 he was re-elected for Dover. He was, however, also elected--without any canvass or solicitation on his part--for Manchester, the most important manufacturing constituency in the kingdom; and he chose to sit for the latter. In 1834 he succeeded to the Presidency of the Board of Trade, as successor to Lord Auckland. Then followed Earl Grey's resignation and Lord Melbourne's accession. On the dismissal of the Ministry in November, Mr. Thomson was, of course, left without office, but on Lord Melbourne's re-accession in the following spring he was reinstated in the Presidency of the Board of Trade--an office which he continued to hold until his appointment as Governor-General of Canada.

Early in 1836 his health had become so seriously affected by his official labours that he began to recognize the necessity of resigning his office, and of accepting some post which would not so severely tax his energies. He continued to discharge his official duties, however, until the reconstruction of Lord Melbourne's Administration in 1839, when he signified his wish to be relieved. He was offered a choice between the office of Chancellor of the Exchequer and that of Governor-General of Canada. He chose the latter, and having received his appointment and been sworn in before the Privy Council, he set sail from Portsmouth for Quebec on the 13th of September, which was the fortieth anniversary of his birth. He reached his destination after a tedious, stormy voyage, and assumed the reins of government on the 19th of October. He was well received in this country. The mercantile community of Canada were especially disposed to favour the appointment of a man who had himself been bred to commercial pursuits, and who would be likely to feel a more than ordinary interest in promoting commercial interests.

Canada was at this time in a state of transition. Owing to the strenuous exertions of the Reform party in this country, seconded by Lord Durham's famous "Report," the concession of Responsible Government and the union of the provinces had been determined upon by the Home Ministry. It was Mr. Thomson's mission to see these two most desirable objects carried out. He had a most difficult part to play. As a pronounced Liberal, he naturally had the confidence of the Reform party, but there were a few prominent members of that party who did not approve of the Union project, and he felt that he could not count upon their cordial support. True, the opponents of the measure constituted a very small minority of the Reform party generally; but there was another party from whom the strongest opposition was to be expected--the Family Compact. This faction was not yet extinct, though its days were numbered. It still controlled the Legislative Council, which body had already recorded a vote hostile to the Union. The situation was one calling for the exercise of great tact, and the new Governor-General proved himself equal to the occasion. He made no changes in the composition either of the Special Council of the Lower Province--a body formed under Imperial sanction by Sir John Colborne--or in that of the Legislative Council of Upper Canada. After a short stay at Quebec he proceeded to Montreal, and convoked the Special Council on the 11th of November. He laid before this body the views of the Imperial Ministry relating to the union of the Provinces, and the concession of Responsible Government. By the time the Council had been in session two days the majority of the members were fully in accord with the Governor's views, and a series of resolutions were passed as a basis of Union. This disposed of the question, so far as the Lower Province was concerned, and after discharging the Council from further attendance, Mr. Thomson proceeded to Toronto to gain the assent of the Upper Canadian Legislature. With the Assembly no difficulty was anticipated, but to gain the assent of the Tory majority in the Legislative Council would evidently be no easy matter, for the success of the Governor's policy involved the triumph of Reform principles, and the inevitable downfall of the Family Compact. The Governor's tact, however, placed them in an anomalous position. For several years past the Tory party had been boasting of their success in putting down the Rebellion, and had raised a loud and senseless howl of loyalty. They were never weary of proclaiming their devotion to the Imperial will, irrespective of selfish considerations. This cry, which had been perpetually resounding throughout the Province during the last three years, supplied the Governor with the means of bending to his pleasure those who had raised it. He delivered a message to the Legislature in which he defined the Imperial policy, and appealed in the strongest terms to those professions of loyalty which the Tory majority in the Council were for ever proclaiming. He also published a circular despatch from Lord John Russell, the tone of which was an echo of that of his own message. The Tory majority were thus placed on the horns of a dilemma. They must either display their much-vaunted loyalty, by acceding to the Imperial will, or they must admit that their blatant professions had been mere party cries to deceive the electors. Their opposition, moreover, would render necessary the resignation of their offices. With the best grace they could, they announced their intention to support the Imperial policy. The Assembly passed resolutions in accordance with the spirit of Governor's message. Nothing further was necessary to render the Union an accomplished fact; except the sanction of the Imperial Parliament. A Union Bill, framed under the supervision of Sir James Stuart, Chief Justice of Lower Canada, was forwarded to England, where, in a slightly modified form, it was passed by both Houses, and received the royal assent. Owing to a suspending clause in the Bill, it did not come into operation until the 10th of February, 1841, when, by virtue of the Governor-General's proclamation, the measure took effect, and the union of the Canadas was complete.

Soon after the close of the session of the Upper Canadian Legislature, Mr. Thomson was raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Sydenham, of Sydenham, in Kent, and Toronto in Canada. The greater part of the following autumn was spent by him in travelling about through the Upper Province. He seems to have been greatly pleased both with the country and the people. The following extract from a private letter, written from the shores of the Bay of Quinté on the 18th of September, is worth quoting, as showing the impressions of an intelligent observer at that time:--"Amherstburg, Sandwich, River St. Clair, Lake Huron, Goderich, Chatham, London, Woodstock, Brantford, Simcoe, the Talbot Road and Settlement, Hamilton, Dundas, and so back to Toronto--you can follow me on a map. From Toronto across Lake Simcoe to Penetangnishene on Lake Huron again, and back to Toronto, which I left again last night for the Bay of Quinté, all parties uniting in addresses at every place, full of confidence in my government, and of a determination to forget their former disputes. Escorts of two and three hundred farmers on horseback at every place from township to township, with all the etceteras of guns, music, and flags. What is of more importance, my candidates everywhere taken for the ensuing elections. In short, such unanimity and confidence I never saw, and it augurs well for the future.... The fact is that the truth of my original notion of the people of this country is now confirmed. The mass only wanted the vigorous interference of a well-intentioned government, strong enough to control both the extreme parties, and to proclaim wholesome truths and act for the benefit of the country at large, in defiance of ultras on either side. But, apart from all this political effort, I am delighted to have seen this part of the country--I mean the great district, nearly as large as Ireland, placed between the three lakes, Erie, Ontario, and Huron. You can conceive nothing finer. The most magnificent soil in the world; four feet of vegetable mould; a climate, certainly the best in North America. The greater part of it admirably watered. In a word, there is land enough and capabilities enough for some millions of people, and for one of the finest Provinces in the world. The most perfect contrast to that miserable strip of land along the St. Lawrence called Lower Canada, which has given so much trouble. I shall fix the capital of the United Provinces in this one, of course. Kingston will most probably be the place. But there is everything to be done there yet, to provide accommodation for the meeting of the Assembly in the spring."

As suggested in the foregoing extract, Kingston was fixed upon as the seat of Government of the United Provinces, and the Legislature assembled there on the 13th of June, 1841. The Governor-General's speech at the opening of the session was marked by tact, moderation, and good sense. A strong Opposition, however, soon began to manifest itself, and Mr. Neilson, of Quebec, moved an amendment to the Address directly condemnatory of the Union. The amendment was defeated by a vote of 50 to 25. Throughout the session nearly all the Government measures received the support of the House, an important exception being the French Election Bill. Meanwhile the state of Lord Sydenham's health was such as to render his duties very difficult for him, and as the great object of his mission to Canada had been successfully accomplished, he resolved to return home at the close of the session. He forwarded his resignation to the Home Secretary, having already received leave of absence which would obviate the necessity of his remaining at his post until the acceptance of his resignation. Of this leave, however, he was not destined to avail himself. On the 4th of September he felt himself well enough to ride out on horseback. While returning homeward he put his horse to a canter, just as he began to ascend a little hill not far from Alwington House, his residence, near the lake shore. When about half way up the hill, the horse stumbled and fell, crashing his rider's right leg beneath his weight. The animal rose to its feet and dragged Lord Sydenham--whose right foot was fast in the stirrup--for a short distance. One of his aides, who just then rode up, rescued the Governor from his perilous position and conveyed him home, when it was found that the principal bone of his right leg, above the knee, had sustained an oblique fracture, and that the limb had also received a severe wound from being bruised against a sharp stone, which had cut deeply and lacerated the flesh and sinews. Notwithstanding these serious injuries, and the shock which his nervous system had sustained, his medical attendants did not at first anticipate danger to his life. He continued free from fever, and his wounds seemed to be going on satisfactorily; but he was debilitated by perpetual sleeplessness and inability to rest long in one position. On the ninth day after his injury dangerous symptoms began to manifest themselves, and it soon became apparent that he would not recover. After a fortnight of great suffering, he breathed his last on Sunday, the 19th, having completed his forty-second year six days previously.

"His fame," says his biographer, "must rest not so much on what he did or said in Parliament as on what he did and proposed to do out of it--on his consistent and to a great degree successful efforts to expose the fallacy of the miscalled Protective system, and gradually, but effectively, to root it out of the statute-book, and thereby to free the universal industry of Britain from the mischievous shackles imposed by an ignorant and mistaken selfishness."

His Canadian administration may be looked upon as a brief and brilliant episode in his public career. In private life he was much loved and highly esteemed. His amiable disposition and pleasing manner excited the warmest attachment among those who were admitted to his intimacy, and in every circumstance that affected their happiness he always appeared to take a lively personal interest. In the midst of his occupations he always had time for works of kindness and charity. In a letter to an idle friend who had been remiss in correspondence, he once said, "Of course you have no time. No one ever has who has nothing to do." His assistance was always promptly and eagerly afforded whenever he could serve his friends, or confer a favour on a deserving object. His integrity and sense of honour were high, and his disinterestedness was almost carried to excess. The remuneration for his official services was lower than that of any other official of equal standing, and far below his deserts. Never having married, however, owing to an early disappointment, his needs were moderate, and his private fortune considerable. His person and manner were very prepossessing, and his aptitude and acquired knowledge great. He was very popular in the social circle, and his death left a void among his friends which was never filled.

MONTCALM.

"Go to; the boy is a born generalissimo, and is destined to be a Marshal of France," said M. Ricot, holding up his hands in amazement. The boy referred to was a little fellow seven or eight years of age, by name Louis Joseph de Saint Veran. M. Ricot was his tutor, and was led to express himself after this fashion in consequence of some precocious criticisms of his pupil on the tactics employed by Caius Julius Cæsar at a battle fought in Transalpine Gaul fifty odd years before the advent of the Christian era. It was evident to the critic's youthful mind that the battle ought to have resulted differently, and that if the foes of "the mighty Julius" had had the wit to take advantage of his indiscretion, certain pages of the "Commentaries" might have been conceived in a less boastful spirit. Little Louis Joseph had sketched a rough plan, showing the respective positions of the opposing forces, and had then demanded of his tutor why this had not been done, why that had been neglected, and why the other had never been even so much as thought of. M. Ricot, after carefully following out the reasoning of his pupil, could find no weak point therein, and was fain to admit that the Great Roman had been guilty of a huge blunder in the arrangement of his forces. Fortunately for the General's military reputation, the Gauls had been beaten in spite of his defective strategy, and he himself had survived to transmit to posterity a rather egotistical account of the affair. M. Ricot had been reading those "Commentaries" all his life--reading them, as he supposed, critically--but he had never lighted upon the discovery which his present pupil had made upon a first perusal. Well might he exclaim, "Go to; the boy is a born generalissimo, and is destined to be a marshal of France."

Such is the anecdote--preserved in an old volume of French memoirs--of the childhood of him who subsequently became famous on two continents, and who for more than a hundred years past has been accounted one of the most redoubtable commanders of his age. If the story is true, certainly the Marquis de Montcalm did not carry out the splendid promise of his boyhood. He lived to fight the battles of his country with unflinching courage, with a tolerable amount of military skill, and with a tenacity of purpose that often achieved success against tremendous odds. But, unlike the great general to whom, during the last few weeks of his life, it was his fortune to be opposed, he never gave any evidence of possessing an original military genius--such a genius as would seem to have been possessed by the youth who figures in the foregoing anecdote. His chivalrous bravery, his high-bred courtesy, and, more than all, his untimely death, have done much to make his name famous in history, and to obscure certain features of character which we are not usually accustomed to associate with greatness. "History," says Cooper, "is like love, and is apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of imaginary brightness. It is probable that Louis de Saint Veran will be viewed by posterity only as the gallant defender of his country, while his cruel apathy on the shores of the Oswego and the Horican will be forgotten."

He was descended from a noble French family, and was born at the Chateau of Candiac, near Nismes, in southern France, on the 28th of February, 1712. Concerning his early years but few particulars have come down to us. He seems to have entered the army before he had completed his fourteenth year, and to have distinguished himself in various campaigns in Germany, Bohemia and Italy during the war for the Austrian succession. At the disastrous battle of Piacenza, in Italy, fought in the year 1746, he gained the rank of colonel; and in 1749 he became a brigadier-general. Seven years subsequent to the latter date he began to figure conspicuously in Canadian history, and from that time forward we are able to trace his career pretty closely. Early in 1756, having been elevated to the rank of a Field-Marshal--thus verifying the prediction of his old tutor--he was appointed successor to the Baron Dieskau in the chief command of the French forces in this country. He sailed from France early in April, and arrived at Quebec about a month afterwards. He was accompanied across the Atlantic by a large reinforcement, consisting of nearly 14,000 regular troops, and an ample supply of munitions of war. He at once began to set on foot those active operations against the British in America which were followed up with such unremitting vigilance throughout the greater part of the following three years.

The state of affairs in Canada at this period may be briefly summarized as follows:--The Government was administered by the Marquis de Vaudreuil-Cavagnal, a man ill-fitted for so onerous a position in such troublous times. The colony extended from the seaboard to the far west, through the valley of the Ohio, and had a white population of about 80,000. Previous to Montcalm's arrival there were 3,000 veteran French troops in the country, in addition to a well-trained militia. The country, indeed, was an essentially military settlement, and the people felt that they might at any time be called upon to defend their frontiers. The countless tribes and offshoots of the Huron-Algonquin Indians had cast in their lot with the French, and were to contribute not a little to the success of many of their warlike operations. The French, by means of their forts at Niagara, Toronto and Frontenac (Kingston), held almost undisputed sovereignty over Lake Ontario; and their forts at Crown Point and Ticonderoga enabled them to control Lake Champlain.

Still, the French colonists laboured under some serious disadvantages, which contributed eventually to decide the contest adversely to them. They had given comparatively little attention to the cultivation of the soil, and suffered from a chronic scarcity of food. They were subjected to feudal exactions ill-suited to the condition of the country, and were further impoverished by huge commercial monopolies. Every branch of the public service was corrupt, and the peculations of the officials, if not shared by the Governor himself, were at least winked at or sanctioned by him. Montcalm, whatever may have been his shortcomings in some respects, was no self-seeker, and was very properly disgusted with the mal-administration which everywhere prevailed. His dissatisfaction with, and contempt for, the Governor, had the effect of producing much internal dissention among the Canadians, and of hastening the downfall of French dominion in the colony.

The population of the British colonies at this time was not much less than three millions; but this population, unlike that of Canada, knew little of military affairs. The British colonists had spent their time in commercial and agricultural pursuits, and had not cast loose from the spirit of puritanism which had animated the breasts of their forefathers. As compared with the mother-country they were poor enough in all conscience, but they were as a rule, frugal, industrious and intelligent; and, as compared with their Canadian neighbours, they might almost be said to be in affluent circumstances. They possessed in an eminent degree those qualities--energy, endurance, and courage--which mark the Anglo-Saxon race in every quarter of the globe. Such a foe, if once disciplined and roused to united action, was not to be despised, even by the veteran battalions of France, and the most Christian King showed his appreciation of this fact by sending against them a general who was regarded as the most consummate soldier in Europe.

Having arrived at Quebec about the middle of May, Montcalm lost no time in opening the campaign. One of his earliest proceedings was to lay siege to Fort Oswego, which after a faint resistance, was compelled to surrender. Articles of capitulation were signed, the British laid down their arms, and the fort was delivered over to the conquerors. One hundred and thirty-four cannon and a large quantity of specie and military stores became the spoil of the victors, and more than 1,600 British subjects, including 120 women and children, became prisoners of war.

Up to this epoch in his career the conduct of the Marquis de Montcalm had been such as to deserve the unqualified admiration alike of his contemporaries and of posterity. Though not past his prime, he had achieved the highest military distinction which his sovereign could bestow. His chivalrous courage had been signally displayed on many a hard-fought field, and his urbanity, amiability, and generosity had made him the idol of his soldiers. He had a manner at once grand and ingratiating, and in his intercourse with others he manifested a bonhomme that caused him to be beloved alike by the simple soldier and the haughty noblesse of his native land. Considering his opportunities he had been a diligent student, and had improved his mind by familiarity with the productions of many of the greatest writers of ancient and modern times. By far the greater part of his life had been spent in the service of his country, and when compelled to endure the privations incidental to an active military life in the midst of war, he had ever been ready to share his crust with the humblest soldier in the ranks. Up to this time every action of his life had seemed to indicate that he was a man of high principle and stainless honour. If it had been his good fortune to die before the fall of Oswego his name would have been handed down to future times as a perfect mirror of chivalry--a knight without fear and without reproach. It is sad to think that a career hitherto without a blot should have been marred with repeated acts of cruelty and breaches of faith. On both counts of this indictment the Marquis of Montcalm must be pronounced guilty; and in view of his conduct at Oswego, and afterwards at Fort William Henry, the only conclusion at which the impartial historian can arrive is that he was lamentably deficient in the highest attributes of character.

Fort Oswego was surrendered on the 14th of August. By the terms of capitulation the sick and wounded were specially entrusted to Montcalm, whose word was solemnly pledged for their protection and safe conduct. How was the pledge redeemed? No sooner were the British deprived of their arms than the Indian allies of the French were permitted to swoop down upon the defenceless prisoners and execute upon them their savage will. The sick and wounded were scalped, slain, and barbarously mutilated before the eyes of the Marshal of France, who had guaranteed that not a hair of their heads should fall. Nay, more; a score of the prisoners were deliberately handed over to the savages to be ruthlessly butchered, as an offering to the manes of an equal number of Indians who had been slain during the siege.

Such are the unimpeachable facts of the massacre at Oswego. It is not probable that these proceedings on the part of the Indians were agreeable to the feelings of Montcalm, or that he consented to them with a very good grace. The noble representative of the highest civilization in Europe could scarcely have taken pleasure in witnessing the hideous massacre of defenceless women and children. But he was anxious to retain the co-operation of his red allies at any cost, and had not the moral greatness to exercise his authority to restrain their savage lust for blood. It has been contended by some defenders of his fame that he had no choice in the matter--that the ferocity of the savages was aroused, and could not be controlled. It is sufficient to say in reply that those who argue thus must wilfully shut their eyes to the facts. Was it because he could not restrain his allies that he, without remonstrance, delivered up to them twenty British soldiers to be tortured, cut to pieces, and burned? Was he unable to restrain them when he finally became sickened with their butchery and personally interposed to prevent its further continuance? From the moment when his will was unmistakably made known to the Indians the massacre ceased; and if he had been true to himself and his solemnly-plighted word from the beginning, that massacre would never have begun. By no specious argument can he be held guiltless of the blood of those luckless victims whose dismembered limbs were left to fester before the entrenchments at Oswego.

With the surrender of Oswego Great Britain lost her last vestige of control over Lake Ontario. The fort was demolished, and the French returned to the eastern part of the Province. The result of the campaign of 1756 was decidedly in favour of the French, and Montcalm's reputation as a military commander rose rapidly, though his conduct at Oswego led to his being looked upon with a sort of distrust that had never before attached to his name. His courage and generalship, however, were unimpeachable, and his vigilance never slept. During the following winter his spies scoured the frontiers of the British settlements, and gained early intelligence of every important movement of the forces. Among other information, he learned that the British had a vast store of provisions and munitions of war at Fort William Henry, at the southwestern extremity of Lake George. Early in the spring, Montcalm resolved to capture this fort, and to possess himself of the stores. On the 16th of March, 1757, he landed on the opposite side of the lake, at a place called Long Point. Next day, having rounded the head of the lake, he attacked the fort; but the garrison made a vigorous defence, and he was compelled to retire to Fort Ticonderoga, at the foot of the lake! For several months afterwards his attention was distracted from Fort William Henry by operations in different parts of the Province; but early in the month of August he renewed the attempt with a force consisting of 7,000 French and Canadian troops, 2,000 Indians, and a powerful train of artillery. The garrison consisted of 2,300 men, besides women and children. To tell the story of the second siege and final surrender of Fort William Henry would require pages. Suffice it to say that the dire tragedy of Oswego was re-enacted on a much more extended scale. For six days the garrison was valiantly defended by Lieutenant-Colonel Munro, a veteran of the 35th Regiment of the line. Day after day did the gallant old soldier defend his trust, waiting in vain for succours that never arrived. Finally, when he learned that no succours were to be expected, and that to prolong the strife would simply be to throw away the lives of his men, he had an interview with the French commander and agreed to an honourable capitulation.

Again did Montcalm pledge his sacred word for the safety of the garrison, which was to be escorted to Fort Edward by a detatchment of French troops. The sick and wounded were to be taken under his own protection until their recovery, when they were to be permitted to return to their own camp.

Such were the terms of capitulation; terms which were honourable, to the victor, and which the vanquished could accept without ignominy. How were these terms carried out? No sooner were the garrison well clear of the fort than the shrill war-whoop of the Indians was heard, and there ensued a slaughter so terrible, so indiscriminate, and so inconceivably hideous in all its details that even the history of pioneer warfare hardly furnishes any parallel to it. Nearly a thousand victims were slain on the spot, and hundreds more were carried away into hopeless captivity. No more graphic or historically accurate description of that scene has ever been written than is to be found in "The Last of the Mohicans," where we read that no sooner had the war-whoop sounded than upwards of two thousand raging savages burst from the forest and threw themselves across the plain with instinctive alacrity. "Death was everywhere, in its most terrific and disgusting aspects. Resistance only served to inflame the murderers, who inflicted their furious blows long after their victims were beyond the reach of their resentment. The flow of blood might be likened to the outbreaking of a gushing torrent; and as the natives became heated and maddened by the sight, many among them kneeled on the earth and drank; freely, exultingly, hellishly, of the crimson tide. The trained bodies of the British troops threw themselves quickly into solid masses, endeavouring to awe their assailants by the imposing appearance of a military front. The experiment in some measure succeeded, though many suffered their unloaded muskets to be torn from their hands in the vain hope of appeasing the savages."

It has been alleged on Montcalm's behalf that when the slaughter began he used his utmost endeavours to arrest it. His utmost endeavours! Why, even if his command was insufficient to restrain his allies, he had seven thousand regular troops with arms in their hands, at his back. Instead of theatrically baring his breast, and calling upon the savages to slay him in place of the English, for whom his honour was plighted, he would have done well to have kept that honour unsullied by observing the plain terms of capitulation, and providing a suitable escort. Instead of calling upon the British--hampered as they were by the presence of their sick, and of their women and children--to defend themselves, he should have called upon his own troops to protect his honour and that of France. Had his promised escort been provided no attempt would have been made by the Indians, and the tragedy at Oswego might in process of time have come to be regarded as a mere mischance. But no such excuse can now be of any avail. According to some accounts of this second massacre, no escort whatever was furnished. According to others, the escort was a mere mockery, consisting of a totally inadequate number of French troops, who were very willing to see their enemies butchered, and who did not even make any attempt to restrain their allies. All that can be known for certain is, that if there was any escort at all it was wholly ineffective; and, leaving humanity altogether out of the question, this was in itself an express violation of the terms upon which the garrison had been surrendered. The massacre at Fort William Henry followed one short year after that at Oswego, and the two combined have left a stain upon the memory of the man who permitted them which no time can ever wash away.

Time and space alike fail us to describe at length the subsequent campaigns of that and the following year. Montcalm's defence of Fort Ticonderoga on the 8th of June, 1758, was a masterly piece of strategy, and was unmarred by any incident to detract from the honour of his victory, which was achieved against stupendous odds. Ticonderoga continued to be Montcalm's headquarters until Quebec was threatened by the British under Wolfe; when he at once abandoned the shores of Lake Champlain, and mustered all his forces for the defence of the capital of the French colony.

The siege of Quebec has been described at length in a former sketch, and it is unnecessary to add much to that description here. It will be remembered how Wolfe landed at L'Anse du Foulon in the darkness of the night of September 12th, 1759, and how the British troops scaled the precipitous heights leading to the Plains of Abraham. Intelligence of this momentous event reached Montcalm, at his headquarters at Beauport, about daybreak on the morning of the 13th. "Aha," said the General, "then they have at last got to the weak side of this miserable garrison." He at once issued orders to break up the camp, and led his army across the St. Charles River, past the northern ramparts of the city, and thence on to the plains of Abraham, where Wolfe and his forces were impatiently awaiting his arrival. The battle was of short duration. The first deadly volley fired by the British decided the fortunes of the day, and the French fled across the plains in the direction of the citadel. Montcalm, who had himself received a dangerous wound, rode hither and thither, and used his utmost endeavour to rally his flying troops. While so engaged he received a mortal wound, and sank to the ground. From that moment there was no attempt to oppose the victorious British, whose general had likewise fallen in the conflict.

Montcalm's wound, though mortal, was not immediately so, and he survived until the following day. When the surgeons proceeded to examine his wound the general asked if it was mortal. They replied in the affirmative. "How long before the end?" he calmly enquired. He was informed that the end was not far off, and would certainly, arrive before many hours. "So much the better," was the comment of the dying soldier--"I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec." The commander of the garrison asked for instructions as to the further defence of the city, but Montcalm declined to occupy himself any longer with worldly affairs. Still, even at this solemn moment, the courteous urbanity by which he had always been distinguished did not desert him. "To your keeping," he said, to De Ramesey, "I commend the honour of France. I wish you all comfort, and that you may be happily extricated from your present perplexities. As for me, my time is short, and I have matters of more importance to attend to than the defence of Quebec I shall pass the night with God, and prepare myself for death." Not long afterwards he again spoke: "Since it was my misfortune to be discomfitted and mortally wounded, it is a great consolation to me to be vanquished by so great and generous an enemy. If I could survive this wound, I would engage to beat three times the number of such forces as I commanded this morning with a third of their number of British troops." His chaplain arrived about this time, accompanied by the bishop of the colony, from whom the dying man received the last sacred offices of the Roman Catholic religion. He lingered for some hours afterwards, and finally passed away, to all outward seeming, with calmness and resignation.

It seems like an ungrateful task to recur to the frailties of a brave and chivalrous man, more especially when he dies in the odour of sanctity. But as we ponder upon that final scene in the life of the gay, charming, brilliant Marquis of Montcalm, we cannot avoid wondering whether the "sheeted ghosts" of the wounded men, helpless women, and innocent babes who were so ruthlessly slaughtered at Oswego and William Henry flitted around his pillow in these last fleeting moments. Notwithstanding the fact that his mind seemed to receive solace from the solemn rites in which he then took part, we have never read the account of those last hours of Montcalm without being reminded of the lines of the British Homer descriptive of the death of him who fell "on Flodden's fatal field."

The exact place of Montcalm's death has never been definitely ascertained. Various sites are indicated by different authorities, but no conclusive evidence has been adduced in support of the claims of any of them. It is, however, known for certain that his body was interred within the precincts of the Ursuline Convent at Quebec, where a mural tablet was erected by Lord Aylmer to his memory in 1832. The following is a translation of the inscription:--

HONOUR TO MONTCALM! FATE, IN DEPRIVING HIM OF VICTORY, RECOMPENSED HIM BY A GLORIOUS DEATH.