I cannot linger now And feel the sunlight and the breeze, which gave Oh clasp me to thy heart, His heart first drew its ardent beatings thence; In the warm mute caress Which holds me, mother, to thy gentle breast, And tell me, I may know His earnest glance, reflected in thine own, I will go forth with thee, The lonely wanderer of my household band; Hearing forevermore In Memory's darkened land, as I shall roam, Saying "Farewell, farewell!" Breathing it sadly, shadowy forms shall rise, Oh, I shall follow thee! Treading the devious path, which thou hast trod; And where thou diest, I Oh, best beloved! shall share thy latest breath; New Haven, February, 1343. THE SIEGE OF LOUISBURG IN 1745. BY ERASMUS D. NORTH, M. D., OF YALE COLLEGE. The military abilities of our citizen soldiers are now attracting universal attention. So long a time has elapsed since they have been put to proof in regular warfare, that the exhibitions of them now made in Mexico have all the charms of freshness and novelty. Prosperous and comfortable citizens at home, stare as if roused from a dream of forgetfulness, at reading the enterprises and exploits of their old friends and neighbors who have volunteered under Scott and Taylor. What strange developments of character-they say to themselves-seem to have been suddenly brought out in Smith and Jones and the rest, who seemed at home to be men no way remarkable, unless for not making money so fast as their neighbors! Are these indeed our old acquaintances, who are storming the strongest mountain fortresses; hewing their way with axe and rifle through the mountain forests of Cerro Gordo, gaining ground foot by foot, and house by house, through cities desperately defended; coolly welcoming, even by single battalions, the most furious charges of cavalry; and daily performing feats worthy of the iron bands of conquerors like Napoleon and Wellington? The strange coolness and unaccountable self-reliance of our troops no matter how scanty their numbers-as they push on, and leave swarming thousands of guerillas to cut off their com munications; their toilsome labors in excavating new roads over ground confidently deemed by the enemy to be impracticable, and thus so often taking in rear works which it would have cost too many lives to storm in front; their cheerful and it would seem, frolicksome hardihood in bivouacking during a pelting storm, without food or shelter, far from support, and within cannon shot of their opponents-and for what?-why, that though a mere detachment, and acting on their own responsibility, they choose to be on the ground in season to undertake the job (in laborer's phrase) of routing the enemy from his strong hold" before breakfast," and thus" to save the best part of the day" for another and bigger job in company with the main army!-in short, an insouciance and homely common-sense in the most daring enterprises, and in the thickest of a desperate fight, which give an aspect to their deeds the very opposite of common military romance, but which yet spring from the noblest modesty and simplicity of character;-exploits and traits of character such as these, excite a smile of wonder among their countrymen at home, which soon deepens into a grin of delight. After all, however, such characteristics of our military enterprises are far from being new. In the war of 1812, indeed, it was rather on the ocean and on the lakes, that the peculiar abilities of our countrymen were displayed. On the present occasion also, let us pass over, in our retrospect, the war of the revolution. It is in the history of our colonial forefathers, that the most obvious parallels are to be found. And probably the most striking one in our whole history, is the expedition against Louisburg, a century ago. We select this expedition-not because its plan and conduct present much resemblance in detail to the more scientific campaigns of the present day, but because it strikingly illustrates those peculiar and even amusing qualities which distinguish the Yankee when serving as a volunteer soldier. A hundred years ago, these had become fully developed in the people of New England, while at the present day are displayed in their essential traits not only by their immediate descendants, but by the enterprising and adventurous in all parts of our country. Boundless confidence in the future, disregard of distance by land or sea; a homely carelessness of military display, and of the pomp and pride of war; a complacent indifference in view of the numbers or advantages of the enemy; habitual good nature, and good humored patience in hardship; and in general the distinguishing traits of an American emigrant metamorphosed for the time into a soldier, though the fact seems of late to have been forgotten to some extent, are essential products of the circumstances and institutions of this country operating on the Anglo-Saxon character. In the war of 1756, the British fifers are said to have played Yankee Doodle in derision of the rustic dress and unconscious awkwardness of their provincial auxiliaries. Even so, a Mexican gentleman writing from Puebla, only a few months ago, expresses his astonishment at the inelegant uniforms, and the absence of military smartness and soldierly bearing, which he witnessed when our victorious troops marched with a careless and almost lazy confidence into that city, and immediately set about making themselves at home. A late number of our magazine exhibits Hinman's beautiful portrait of General Wooster who served before Louisburg. We see in it his personal beauty, which was so remarkable that he was called afterwards in London "the handsome provincial," yet no indication do we discover in the expression of his countenance of his military character. Our troops have always been citizen soldiers, and justly may we be proud of the designation. But the northern colonists of the last century were distinguished, in addition to such qualities as we have just referred to, for a truly warlike character; their history furnishes proofs of the prevalence of deep and serious military enthusiasm. Descended from that portion of the English nation which Cromwell had trained to uninterrupted victory, they not only inherited the indomitable qualities of his famous Ironsides, but had been compelled by the increasing perils of their western home, to cherish military feelings and institutions, and to accustom the whole available population, to the constant practice of arms. Their laws regarded every man as a soldier. Avoiding, rather than adopting the higher military titles, the lowest subaltern commission conferred honor and dignity. The native Indians were the least of their enemies. On all sides, except the ocean, they were surrounded by settlements of hereditary enemies. France envied England her colonies and cherished the hope of adding them to her own possessions. The French were also Romanists; their priests were Jesuits; and hatred towards heretics, as well as religious zeal, ever fanned the flame of national dislike and enmity. Whole tribes of the ferocious savages were converted by the priests and made to believe it an acceptable service to God, to subdue or extirpate the English. Their murderous modes of war were unchecked by their religious guides, and even in seasons of nominal peace, our frontier towns never felt secure against midnight massacre. Those tribes also who retained their heathenism preferred the alliance of the French to that of the English. The Indian character appeared to sympa. thize with the former more than with the latter. The century was likewise one of frequent and protracted wars between the two great powers in Europe; while on this side the Atlantic our ancestors entered into the contest rather like principals than dependants. They considered the struggle as one for their very existence as a part of the British empire. And, besides their nationality, the attainment of their most cherished hopes was at stake. What fortune could befall the Puritans worse than for themselves and their children to become the slaves of a despotic and popish monarch and of his Jesuit myrmidons? The persecuted Huguenots who had sought refuge among them, were living witnesses of the fate which they might justly anticipate. When the war of 1744 commenced, France was eagerly enga ged in establishing a chain of forts and settlements from Canada along the lakes and down the Ohio, so as to shut in the English on the north and west. On the east also, she possessed the island of Cape Breton with its fortified capital, Louisburg; and though New Brunswick and Nova Scotia had been rescued from her, yet they were mostly peopled by her colonists, and were liable to be regained by a revolt of their inhabitants, if not soon retaken by her fleets and armies. Indeed, the first act of the war on this side the ocean was, the destruction of Canseau in Nova Scotia, followed immediately by the seige of Annapolis in the same province. Massachusetts hastened to send aid to the garrison of the latter and the enemy were repulsed; but the Indians rising in favor of their old allies, a desperate contest began to be carried on. Should the French succeed, they would gain an addition of six thousand men, and the danger of New England would become imminent. Even if the French and their savage allies, assisted by a powerful armament from Europe, should be enabled to subdue New England, the commerce and fisheries of the latter would be wholly destroyed, and an endless amount of misery would be certain to ensuc. At this critical juncture, the garrison of Canseau, with other prisoners who had been carried to Louisburg, arrived at Boston and reported to Governor Shirley the condition of that strong hold of the French. Some favorable circumstances in the situation of the inhabitants and garrison, suggested to Shirley the thought that it might be taken by a surprise, if an expedition were secretly prepared in New England, and sent out sufficiently early in the ensuing spring. Louisburg, the capital of Cape Breton, was cherished by France as one of her most important possessions. She had spent twenty-five years in fortifying it, and at an expense of six millions of dollars. Intermediate in situation between the St. Lawrence and the West Indies, it was her chief naval station in America, and being so near the English colonies, could send out swarms of privateers to destroy their commerce and fisheries and insult their shores at pleasure. Hence it had been styled the Dunkirk of America. It was built on a point of land projecting to the eastward, within which point, on the north and northeast, the bay widened and afforded a deep and capacious harbor. The mouth of the harbor, which was thus a narrow channel, was defended against the entrance of hostile ships by an island in the middle, on which was a battery of thirty heavy cannon. Thus the place could not be bombarded by ships of war. The town itself was surrounded by a rampart which was from thirty to thirty-six feet high, and forty feet thick at the base, and by a ditch eighty feet wide. The wall was laid out in regular bastions which swept every approach, the gate on the land side was provided with a draw bridge, and defended by a circular battery of sixteen guns, in addition to the fire of the main body of the place, and the ramparts were furnished with casements or bomb proof apartments for sheltering the garrison and citizens. North of the town, and on the opposite side of the harbor, was the grand or royal battery, which mounted thirty cannon, twenty-eight of which were forty-two pounders and the other two eighteen pounders. The garrison, including regulars and militia, consisted of two thousand men, and might count on assistance from the principal inhabitants of the city. Indeed, after the capitulation of the place, upwards of four thousand men, including the crew of a captured man of war, were transported in cartel ships to France. Such was the formidable strong hold, by the capture of which Gov. Shirley, a Massachusetts lawyer, hoped to humble the pride of France and render our own shores secure. While the British ministry had scarcely entered on the active prosecution of the war, the most fatal blow which could be delivered against the French power in America, was preparing through the medium of an expedition without a single regular soldier, and composed solely of colonial fishermen and husbandmen. The Governor communicated his scheme to the legislature, under an oath of secresy from each member. So wild and impracticable did it appear, that it was at first rejected. Long and earnestly, however, was it debated, and urgent were the reasons adduced in opposition to it as well as in its favor. Its impracticability was argued on a great number of |