They were a formidable body. Vaudreuil,
the governor of Canada, had spared no pains to make the blow a
successful one. The force had been assembled at Crown Point, and
numbered sixteen hundred regulars, Canadians, and Indians. Everything
needful for their comfort had been provided--overcoats, blankets, bear
skins to sleep on, and tarpaulins to cover them. They had been provided
with twelve days' provisions, which were placed on hand sledges and
drawn by the troops.
They marched, over the ice of Lake Champlain, down to Ticonderoga,
where they rested a week, and constructed three hundred scaling
ladders. Three days' further march, up Lake George, brought them to the
English fort.
The weak point of the expedition was its leader, for Vaudreuil, who was
himself a Canadian, had the greatest jealousy of the French officers,
and had intrusted the command of the expedition to his brother, Rigaud.
The fire did no damage, as the garrison lay sheltered behind their
entrenchments, replying occasionally whenever the enemy mustered in
force, as if with an intention of attacking.
"I don't think they mean business, this time, captain," Nat said in a
tone of disgust. "Why, there are enough of them to eat us, if they
could but make up their minds to come on.
Pages:
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310