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Page 36
"And I suppose," said Charley, "the governor went to take Canada."
"Not exactly, Charley," said Grandfather, "though you have made a pretty
shrewd conjecture. He planned, in 1745, an expedition against
Louisbourg. This was a fortified city, on the Island of Cape Breton,
near Nova Scotia. Its walls were of immense height and strength, and
were defended by hundreds of heavy cannon. It was the strongest fortress
which the French possessed in America; and if the king of France had
guessed Governor Shirley's intentions, he would have sent all the ships
he could muster, to protect it."
As the siege of Louisbourg was one of the most remarkable events that
ever the inhabitants of New England were engaged in, Grandfather
endeavored to give his auditors a lively idea of the spirit with which
they set about it. We shall call his description
THE PROVINCIAL MUSTER.
The expedition against Louisbourg first began to be thought of in the
month of January. From that time, the governor's chair was continually
surrounded by counsellors, representatives, clergymen, captains, pilots,
and all manner of people, with whom he consulted about this wonderful
project.
First of all, it was necessary to provide men and arms. The legislature
immediately sent out a huge quantity of paper money, with which, as if
by magic spell, the governor hoped to get possession of all the old
cannon, powder and balls, rusty swords and muskets, and every thing else
that would be serviceable in killing Frenchmen. Drums were beaten in all
the villages of Massachusetts, to enlist soldiers for the service.
Messages were sent to the other governors of New England, and to New
York and Pennsylvania, entreating them to unite in this crusade against
the French. All these provinces agreed to give what assistance they
could.
But there was one very important thing to be decided. Who shall be the
General of this great army? Peace had continued such an unusual length
of time, that there was now less military experience among the
colonists, than at any former period. The old Puritans had always kept
their weapons bright, and were never destitute of warlike captains, who
were skilful in assault or defence. But the swords of their descendants
had grown rusty by disuse. There was nobody in New England that knew any
thing about sieges, or any other regular fighting. The only persons, at
all acquainted with warlike business, were a few elderly men, who had
hunted Indians through the underbrush of the forest, in old Governor
Dummer's war.
In this dilemma, Governor Shirley fixed upon a wealthy merchant, named
William Pepperell, who was pretty well known and liked among the people.
As to military skill, he had no more of it than his neighbors. But, as
the governor urged him very pressingly, Mr. Pepperell consented to shut
up his leger, gird on a sword, and assume the title of General.
Meantime, what a hubbub was raised by this scheme! Rub-a-dub-dub!
Rub-a-dub-dub! The rattle of drums, beaten out of all manner of time,
was heard above every other sound.
Nothing now was so valuable as arms, of whatever style and fashion they
might be. The bellows blew, and the hammer clanged continually upon the
anvil, while the blacksmiths were repairing the broken weapons of other
wars. Doubtless, some of the soldiers lugged out those enormous, heavy
muskets, which used to be fired with rests, in the time of the early
Puritans. Great horse-pistols, too, were found, which would go off with
a bang like a cannon. Old cannon, with touch-holes almost as big as
their muzzles, were looked upon as inestimable treasures. Pikes, which
perhaps, had been handled by Miles Standish's soldiers, now made their
appearance again. Many a young man ransacked the garret, and brought
forth his great-grandfather's sword, corroded with rust, and stained
with the blood of King Philip's war.
Never had there been seen such an arming as this, when a people, so long
peaceful, rose to the war, with the best weapons that they could lay
their hands upon. And still the drums were heard--Rub-a-dub-dub!
Rub-a-dub-dub!--in all the towns and villages; and louder and more
numerous grew the trampling footsteps of the recruits that marched
behind.
And now the army began to gather into Boston. Tall, lanky, awkward,
fellows, came in squads, and companies, and regiments, swaggering along,
dressed in their brown homespun clothes and blue yarn stockings. They
stooped, as if they still had hold of the plough-handles, and marched
without any time or tune. Hither they came, from the corn-fields, from
the clearing in the forest, from the blacksmith's forge, from the
carpenter's workshop, and from the shoemaker's seat. They were an army
of rough faces and sturdy frames. A trained officer of Europe would have
laughed at them, till his sides had ached. But there was a spirit in
their bosoms, which is more essential to soldiership than to wear red
coats, and march in stately ranks to the sound of regular music.
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