War between the French and English peoples had been going on in Europe for as long as anyone could remember. Once each country had colonies in North America the competition quite naturally spread across the Atlantic. England’s colonies suffered repeatedly from full-scale conflicts and sporadic raids on their settlements by the soldiers of New France and their Indian allies. The French and Indians would swoop down the Atlantic coast or along the rivers of the western frontier plundering, burning houses and barns, terrorizing and slaughtering the men, women, and children. New Englanders, in particular, lived with the dread of invasions from Canada. Ordinarily the colonists were left to defend themselves. Every colony had a militia of able-bodied men between the ages of sixteen and sixty.1 Its members were required to keep arms and ammunition at the ready and were drilled several times a year. They were no match for professional, European regulars, but they had the advantage of being men fighting for their homes and farms on ground they knew.
This new war was different. For the first time the British sent a large, professional army to the New World to defend their colonies. They hoped to evict the French from the Ohio Valley and carry the battle to New France. The French, for their part, sent reinforcements to Canada. In 1754, the year Benedict had to leave Canterbury, the war that Americans would call the French and Indian War broke out. In Britain it was dubbed the Seven Years War as the North American conflict expanded to become part of a worldwide struggle between the two ancient rivals. An ambitious young Virginian whom Benedict would come to know so very well, Colonel George Washington, played a prominent role in the events on the American frontier that triggered the war. Both the British and the French reinforced their troops by mobilizing local militia and recruiting Indian tribes as allies. The French, however, would fight, as they often did, with Indian warriors who were difficult to control and notorious for their brutal tactics. Some warriors traveled from beyond the Mississippi River to fight for the French with the promise of plunder and trophies. French commanders made a point of using their Indian allies’ reputation for atrocities to terrorize the colonists. Most of the fighting was concentrated along the frontier where many tribes lived and in New York around Lake Ontario, the Mohawk Valley of central New York, and the colony’s eastern watershed of Lake Champlain and Lake George.
Norwich men had been involved from the beginning. Connecticut had mobilized its militia as Benedict was beginning his apprenticeship in 1755. It called up militia recruits again the following year, 1756, to assist the British regulars. Every town had a quota of men to contribute. Bachelors were conscripted first, young men with no dependents. Some were poor men but many were merely waiting to inherit family property and marry. Benedict was busy with his apprenticeship both years and anyway he was too young to participate.2 But in 1757 when he turned sixteen there was a sudden emergency. The war had taken a frightening turn. With dismay verging on panic New Englanders learned that the French seemed about to gain control of upstate New York.
It was not as if the British had done well in 1756. In May of that year Major General Louis-Joseph de Montcalm arrived in Montreal to command French forces bringing additional troops. He moved quickly and methodically. Barely three months after his arrival he attacked Fort Oswego some 250 miles away at the western end of Lake Ontario. The fort fell. Montcalm captured 1700 prisoners and 121 cannon. The loss of Fort Oswego upset British plans to attack French forts on Lake Ontario and to invade Canada.
In contrast to Montcalm’s focused strategy, British campaign plans had been a confusion of orders, counterorders, fits, and starts. A new British commander in chief, John Campbell, Lord Loudoun, had arrived like Montcalm in 1756. He was replacing William Shirley, governor of Massachusetts. Shirley had planned an expedition against French forts on Lake Ontario for 1756 but when Loudoun finally reached Albany in late July he canceled Shirley’s plan.
With winter coming on, the French would have been expected to wait for spring to begin a new campaign. Instead they spent the winter harassing British forts and settlements. The Marquis de Vaudreuil, governor of New France, incited Indian tribes to attack British settlements on the frontier while his own troops went after British forts and supplies. He was much more enthusiastic about the use of Indians than Montcalm, who disliked the Indian insistence on fighting in their own way and the brutality they practiced. He had only a slightly better opinion of the Canadian militia, but the shortage of trained troops would force the general to employ both.3 While the French were busy eroding British strength and morale, British commanders continued to plan to no effect. Loudoun spent the winter organizing a summer campaign against Quebec, the capital of New France, proposing to leave some troops at Fort William Henry to mislead Montcalm. But as he was working out the details for his 1757 campaign, counterorders arrived from London. William Pitt, secretary of state for the colonies insisted the fortress at Louisbourg in Nova Scotia be attacked first. Loudoun dutifully changed course. As he was approaching the new target, however, he discovered that a French fleet had eluded the British blockade of France and was already at anchor off Louisbourg. If he attacked he would be seriously outnumbered. Taking the prudent course he abruptly called off the operation and returned to New York City. As for protection of New York’s forts and waterways, it was not until July of 1757, the middle of the traditional campaign season, that a new British general, James Abercrombie, reached Albany. Abercrombie, like Loudoun, was a careful man and reluctant to take any important action without Loudoun’s approval.
Of course the English colonists, including the people of Norwich, didn’t know why the British army was on the defensive with no victories and no clear campaign goal. What was startlingly clear, however, was that the French with their Indian allies were destroying western settlements and were poised to take key forts in New York State. They captured and demolished Fort Bull, one of the small forts the British had built in central New York to protect their supply line. Critical amounts of war materials stored in the fort fell into French hands, including forty-five thousand pounds of gunpowder. Without the fort and supplies British plans for the 1757 season were hampered from the start.
The real focus of French attention that summer was Fort William Henry. It stood on the southern shore of Lake George north of Albany guarding the gateway from New France south to Albany and then down the great Hudson River to New York City. British possession of Fort William Henry was vital.
The French laid their plans to seize Fort William Henry with skill and daring. In January they ambushed British rangers near Fort Ticonderoga, which guarded the southern end of Lake Champlain where the La Chute River enters Lake George.4 The next month they made a surprise attack on the supplies and outbuildings outside the walls of Fort William Henry by crossing a frozen Lake George. It was a great success. By early August when Montcalm descended on the fort in earnest with some seven thousand troops and Indians it was already weakened. The French were careful to keep their objective secret. British scouts went on fruitless forays trying to track the French army’s movements. By the time the target was clear it was late in the day to send help. On August 3 French and Indian troops encircled the fort and Montcalm called upon its commander to surrender.
Word of French attacks on key British supplies and settlements had been reaching Connecticut all summer. The flood of refugees streaming east from the Ohio Valley, carrying whatever they could save, brought with them tales of horrible Indian atrocities. Now the French were threatening a key British fort. When General Daniel Webb, the British commander at Fort Edward, just sixteen miles from Fort William Henry, realized Montcalm was closing in on the neighboring fort he dashed off messages to the governors of New York and New England urging them to send their militia as quickly as possible. More fighters were essential to attack Montcalm’s army and reinforce his own garrison at Fort Edward. Montcalm’s assault was judged the “most dangerous threat to the frontier in fifty years.”5 If Fort William Henry fell, the way would be open for the French to strike deep into New York. England’s hold on the entire region would be in grave peril. Fearful for Fort Edward itself, General Christie at Albany pleaded with New York Governor Thomas Pownall: “Let us save that, Sir, otherwise New York itself may fall, and then you can judge the fate of the Continent.”6
The call for help was quickly answered, at least in Connecticut. General Loudoun had been scathing about the quality of the New England militia the previous year, describing them as “frightened out of their senses at the name of a Frenchman.”7 Nevertheless, for the 1757 campaign he had originally asked Connecticut to send fourteen hundred men and all of New England to contribute some four thousand. But now Connecticut alone was raising five thousand men, fully twenty-five percent of the colony’s militia. What energetic and courageous sixteen-year-old boy with much to prove could resist the call to save his country? Not young Benedict Arnold. The Lathrops and his parents gave him permission to leave his apprenticeship temporarily and enlist in the Norwich company. There was no time to waste. Within a week of receiving Webb’s request, the Connecticut militia set out. Off Benedict marched with the men of Norwich, some 154 strong, as their families and friends waved farewell and prayed fervently for their safety and their success.8
Massachusetts responded with urgency as well, mobilizing the militia of the four western regiments to march to New York and alerting all the colony’s twenty-six battalions “to hold themselves in readiness to march at a minute’s warning.”9 By August 12 more than seven thousand Massachusetts men were speeding to Fort Edward. More than forty-two hundred New England men were already encamped outside the fort.10
Benedict was swept up in the excitement and desperate haste. The Connecticut recruits were organized into companies and rendezvoused with militia from other towns, then as a body they set off for Albany over 150 miles away. More than half of the men were on horseback, an extraordinary number, but key to a rapid response.11 Men on foot struggled to keep up, mile after mile. 12
As they poured into Albany, relieved to have reached their destination, they discovered all their haste and effort had been for nothing. General Webb’s call for help had been sent too late.13 As thousands of Connecticut men were marching off leaving their homes Fort William Henry was already surrounded. By the time the exhausted Connecticut recruits reached Albany it was all over. Fort William Henry’s garrison had surrendered. Terrible and deeply frustrating as that news was, there was worse. The Indian allies of the French had behaved in an outrageous and dishonorable manner, violating the terms of surrender and slaughtering many members of the defeated garrison.
The garrison at Fort William Henry was commanded by Lieutenant Colonel George Munro, a fifty-seven-year-old Scots-Irish soldier. His forces had been strengthened that spring, and General Webb had responded to his pleas. On August 2 Webb sent more men, bringing their numbers to 2,372. Still they were no match for the eleven thousand men Munro thought Montcalm had.14 On the other hand Munro had reasonable supplies of food and ammunition and eighteen heavy cannon and other artillery.15 He could hold out if reinforcements arrived quickly to raise the siege.
At first the siege proceeded with all the European niceties of war. On August 3, while Montcalm’s soldiers and Indian allies ranged around its walls and brought their artillery into range, he sent a messenger to Munro under a flag of truce. He called upon Munro to surrender the fort and avoid the inevitable bloodshed that would follow a successful assault: “Humanity obliged him to warn [Munro] that once [the French] batteries were in place and the cannon fired, perhaps there would not be time, nor would it be in [his] power to restrain the cruelties of a mob of Indians of so many different nations.”16 While Montcalm awaited a reply, his Indian allies congregated before the walls shouting insults at the defenders.
Munro had tried to avoid his present predicament. He had written to General Webb three times informing him that Montcalm was about to besiege Fort William Henry and requesting his help. If the fort was to hold out it was imperative a relief force from Fort Edward attack the French before they encircled the fort, or come in strength and force them to lift the siege. Webb had originally been very helpful. He had sent some reinforcements before the siege was complete and a letter assuring Munro that he was “determin’d to assist you as soon as possible with the whole army if requir’d.”17 The situation was desperate once the fort had been encircled but Webb might still arrive with a relief force. Munro therefore replied that he and his men would fight “to the last extremity.”18
But once the fighting started Webb changed his mind. He decided he could not afford to send help and weaken his own garrison until he had been reinforced by militia. At noon on August 4 Webb’s aide-de-camp set out from Fort Edward with a letter to inform Munro that General Webb “does not think it prudent (as you know his strength at this place) to attempt a Junction or to assist you” at present.19 Webb added that should militia not arrive at Fort Edward in time to assist him, Munro “might make the best Terms” of surrender he could.20 Webb’s messenger was tracked by one of Montcalm’s Indian scouts and killed. The letter, stained with the man’s blood, was found hidden in the lining of his coat and brought to Montcalm. The French commander read it and had it delivered to Munro on August 7 with the suggestion that he take Webb’s advice. By that time the fort’s walls had been weathering days of heavy bombardment from the French artillery, most of Munro’s own cannon had burst from overheating, and his men had been up five nights in a row.21 Morale was collapsing. He had had to threaten to hang cowards from the fort’s walls, or anyone arguing for surrender.22 Now he knew there would be no relief column. If Webb was not going to come to his aid there was little point in holding out further. Munro agreed to negotiate a surrender.
Montcalm was prepared to make terms and by 1:00 p.m. on August 9, while some Connecticut militia were just starting out on their forced march to Albany, the agreement was concluded. Munro agreed his entire garrison would remain on parole, that is take no part in the fighting, for eighteen months. In return Montcalm guaranteed a French escort would provide safe passage to Fort Edward for the entire garrison, soldiers, their families, and camp followers.23 The French also pledged to care for anyone too sick and injured to travel and to repatriate them once they were well. In return the British were to return all French prisoners to the French at Fort Carillon by November.
Perhaps all would have gone according to their arrangements if Montcalm’s Indian allies had been a party to the talks. But they were only told of the terms just before Montcalm signed them. The terms gave them nothing. They had been promised plunder, war trophies, and captives to ransom. Instead they were not to harm the defeated British, or plunder their possessions or even take the supplies left in the fort. Where was their reward for fighting for the French? The Indian chiefs listened to the terms in silence.
That afternoon after the British surrendered the fort and moved to an encampment where they were to remain until the march to Fort Edward the next day, the Indians struck. They rushed into the abandoned fort searching for plunder. Finding little they attacked the seventy sick and wounded men left behind.24 They would have scalped them all had not some French soldiers and missionaries managed to stop them. Next they moved to the camp where the rest of the garrison was awaiting their escort. Throughout the night they plundered the terrified people gathered there. What happened at dawn the next morning is graphically described by historian Fred Anderson:
As the regulars prepared to lead the column down the road to Fort Edward, hundreds of warriors armed with knives, tomahawks, and other weapons swarmed around them, demanding that they surrender arms, equipment, and clothing. Other Indians entered the entrenched camp, where the provincial troops and camp followers anxiously awaited the order to march, and began carrying off not only property but all the blacks, women, and children they could find among the camp followers. When at last the column began to move out, at around 5:00 a.m., the regulars in the lead marched alongside the column’s French escort and thus were spared the worst of the violence that followed. The provincials at the rear of the column, however, lacked all protection and found themselves beset on every side. Within minutes, Indians had seized, killed, and scalped the wounded from the provincial companies and stripped others of clothes, money, and possessions. As noise and confusion mounted, discipline disintegrated. Terrified men and women huddled together, trying as best they could to defend themselves. Then, with a whoop that witnesses took to be a signal, dozens of warriors began to tomahawk the most exposed groups, at the rear of the column.25
Men, women and children ran in all directions trying desperately to escape. Montcalm and the French soldiers did try to stop the massacre and managed to snatch some captives from the Indians. Later other captives, whom the Indians had carried back to Canada and had not yet murdered, were ransomed by the French, hoping to restore some semblance of their own honor. Their Indian captors were sent off with ransom that included thirty bottles of brandy each, canoes and other gifts.26 Vaudreuil did not want to alienate the warriors, therefore he did not interrupt the Indian practice of “the ritual eating of a prisoner” outside the city of Montreal on August 15. On the other hand Montcalm had had his fears about the use of Indians justified, and two years later when some 1,800 Indians offered to help defend Quebec, he used them as little as possible.27
In a kind of rough justice the triumphant Indians carried more than ransom prizes with them as they returned to their tribes. Some, greedy for scalps, had dug up graves at Fort William Henry and scalped the corpses. Many of these had died of smallpox. As the warriors paddled those new canoes back to their tribes in the upper Great Lakes the deadly virus traveled with them.
For the British military and the American militia who had come to protect the fort it was far too late to restore French honor. As survivors trickled into Fort Edward and details of the massacre reached Benedict and the Connecticut militia at Albany there was tremendous rage and revulsion directed at the French military for this shameful and despicable act. The militia was wild with anger and frustration.
General Webb kept the militia that had reinforced Fort Edward until he was sure that Montcalm would not attack. In the meantime he had no proper provisions for them. Having seen the desperate survivors of the massacre who managed to reach Fort Edward, the men were eager to avenge the victims. But Webb would not permit them to pursue the French. Instead they had to await Webb’s pleasure without tents, blankets, and with only the most basic provisions. By August 14 most of the New Yorkers would stay no longer and simply headed home, warning their officers they would be shot if they tried to stop them.28 Captain James Delancey, lieutenant-governor of New York, responded with orders to shoot the deserters. One sergeant was shot and others were arrested.29 The confusion finally ended on August 17 when Webb sent the militia home.
At Albany the militia was less mutinous, but the men were deeply bitter about what they regarded as French duplicity. Although Montcalm was retreating north, the Connecticut militia, like the New York militia, was prevented from pursuing him and simply sent home. They got back to their towns and families between August 23 and August 25. Their eighteen days of service had cost the colony about £15,000. 30 But it had more long-lasting costs. Anti-French and anti-Catholic hatred increased exponentially. New York’s lieutenant-governor, afraid for the safety of French prisoners and “Neutrals” in New York City, ordered them jailed for their own safety and assigned a militia company to guard them.31 After the massacre at Fort William Henry no British commander would offer a French force the opportunity to surrender with the full honors of war.32
For Benedict it was a horror not to be forgiven or forgotten. The French had dishonored themselves, behaving in a dastardly way toward helpless captives. They had tolerated, probably even encouraged, the atrocities of savage Indians. It was a strange and unsatisfying first experience of war. The militia played no part in the fighting, indeed were prevented from the revenge they sought. But it was a taste of the drama and uncertainty of war. He had been swept up in the urgency of the moment and as a participant in the drama, equally swept up in the outrage at the result. Deep within there were lessons being learned about the key to leading men into danger, about the difficulties of inadequate provisions, the frustration of dithering orders, the general desire that some scope be offered for bravery, for glory, for honor. Meanwhile his task was to return to what now seemed the more humdrum duties of his apprenticeship at home. His family’s problems, however, turned out to be far from humdrum.