An edition by Mike Lyndall for Early American Literature (Spring 2006). This is number 4 in the series. Many more to come. As always, this post contains the full text of this edition, which is also available in a more beautiful PDF format.
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Jeremy Belknap, “The Siege of Louisbourg” (1793)
Mike Lyndall, Early American Literature, Dr. Jon Miller, Spring 2006
Introduction
By the time of his death at age fifty-four in 1798, Jeremy Belknap was a well-known and respected historian and intellectual in New England. By then he had published two major histories of America, one popular political satire, and dozens of sermons and essays on topics ranging from the neglect of public worship to the poetry of Alexander Pope. Such literary acclaim was not always the case for the New England minister. It was not until 1793 that Belknap received widespread approval from the literary community for his first and most likely greatest work, The History of New Hampshire.
Today, Belknap has been the subject of three biographies written by historians and numerous scholarly articles. Russell M. Lawson, in The American Plutarch: Jeremy Belknap and the Historian’s Dialogue with the Past, provides a scholarly biography of Belknap’s intellectual development from a young man who desired to preach to Indians to an avid historian and founder of the Massachusetts Historical Society. George B. Kirsch’s Jeremy Belknap: A Biography provides a more thorough analysis of Belknap’s political and theological stances within eighteenth-century America, as does Louis Leonard Tucker’s Clio’s Consort” Jeremy Belknap and the Founding of the Massachusetts Historical Society, although the latter work concentrates primarily on Belknap’s clout as a scholar and an historian.
Belknap was a native of Boston who received a Master of Arts degree from Harvard in 1765. His initial goal after graduating was to become a missionary to the native peoples of New England, but when a clergy post opened up in the remote town of Dover, he decided the life of a minister would fulfill his apostolic desires. By 1767, the first-time preacher was established in Dover at the age of twenty-two. He set out to reform his parishioners with a youthful vigorousness, stressing more stringent requirements for church membership and greater proclamations of faith during church services. The Dover townsfolk did not take well to their new idealistic preacher, and it was not long before the town became terminally late or short in the payment of Belknap’s salary. His relationship with his parish remained at odds for the whole of his tenure, with him holding on to his strict demeanor and the parishioners maintaining their silent, fiscal resistance.
Belknap performed most of the research for The History of New Hampshire during his arduous tenure as a minister of the First Parish in Dover, New Hampshire. Isolated from any other intellectual sources of income, Belknap was forced to take to the plow in order to feed his wife Ruth and six children. He found escape from his professional drudgery by reading profusely, and soon took up the writing of his own biographical dictionary as a hobby. Research for this pursuit eventually led him into the basements and attics of libraries throughout New Hampshire in search of historical documents and letters. Soon, his desire to write a biographical dictionary grew into an ambition to write a complete history of the state of New Hampshire, and his career as an historian was born.
According to George B. Kirsch in Jeremy Belknap: A Biography, one thing that sets Belknap’s histories apart is the unique balance they maintain between the rationalism of the Enlightenment and the religiously-steeped tradition of early Puritan historiography. Seventeenth-century historical material written in New England habitually gave meaning to events through their spiritual significance. This trend gradually waned in the eighteenth century as colonial thought became influenced by the European Enlightenment, in which classical philosophers were re-examined and reason began to gain ground on purely religious interpretations of reality. The Enlightenment philosopher John Locke, whose rationalistic arguments were used to support the American Revolution,[1] was most popular in America during Belknap’s time. This new sense of rationalism became a defining mark, or at least a significant trend, in the atmosphere of American thought and politics.
George B. Kirsch, in his biography of Belknap, shows him as an intellectual who was fully aware of the liberal political atmosphere that precipitated the American Revolution. As a minister, Belknap accepted the growing trend of denominationalism in New England and shunned preachers who demonstrated intolerance for other religious practices. Even so, he did not embrace the liberal theology that sought to overthrow traditional Calvinistic doctrine; Belknap believed in traditional Puritan Calvinism and its doctrine of arbitrary pre-destination. Kirsch describes Belknap’s theology as moderate Calvinism, a theology in which Christians are urged to prepare for salvation by striving for purity, even though no acts can change the fate of their souls. However, his personal letters and sermons show that he came to his theological conclusions not through compromise but through a sophisticated deduction of scripture and various Christian doctrines. This circumspect pattern of reasoning is also present in his writings, and it can be attributed to the influence of Enlightenment thought that was so prevalent at the time. Belknap’s style is recognized by the historian and literary critic Sidney Kaplan in his The William and Mary Quarterly article, “The History of New Hampshire: Jeremy Belknap as Literary Craftsman,” and by Louis Leonard Tucker in his biography of Belknap, as reflecting the rational Enlightenment ideals prevalent in New England during the Revolutionary War. His histories insist on using reason and fact as their focal point, giving only the occasional nod to divine providence as the explanation for occurrences.
Both the Lawson and Tucker biographies assert that the heart of Belknap’s histories lies in his extraordinary passion for research. His reputation as an historian is one of utter devotion to accuracy and the sound interpretation of primary sources. In a letter to his editor and close friend Ebenezer Hazard, Belknap comments on the slow pace he took in writing his first history of New Hampshire: “I know that it might be run through in a much shorter time by a Grub Street Gazetteer, who would take every thing on trust, and had materials ready prepared” (qtd. in Tucker 49). Belknap had a well-earned disdain for sloppy historical research. He poured over his own primary sources and formulated his histories in the same meticulous manner he came to conclusions in his theology. The resulting text is a sometimes tedious, but always rich and comprehensive recreation of historical events.
In the following piece, The Siege of Louisbourg, the reader will notice that the narrative is driven by the fastidious attention to detail for which Lawson and Tucker praise Belknap. Only after carefully establishing the facts surrounding a scene or person does Belknap draw his conclusions. But even though Belknap’s histories hold detail and prudence in imagination paramount, they are far from dry reports of past events. One is always aware that Belknap’s works are written by an historian who has authority and opinion on the event being discussed. The latter is especially noteworthy to historians because true neutrality when writing history, while desirable, is an impossibility. Belknap addresses this reality by candidly expressing opinion is his texts. As Tucker notes, his combination of impeccable research and florid style had earned Belknap great respect among later historians such as George Bancroft, Francis Parkman, and Henry Adams (38).
The Siege of Louisbourg is pulled from Belknap’s second volume of The History of New Hampshire. It recreates what was considered a monumental victory in 1745 of the New England colonial forces over the French during the French and Indian Wars. In his New England Quarterly article, “Louisbourg, 1745,” military historian Robert Emmet Wall Jr. presents a detailed account of both the colonial and French military logistics during siege of Louisbourg.
Louisbourg was a French port town on the southern end of Breton Island in Nova Scotia, and its location granted the French navy superiority of the Eastern Atlantic and complete control over the fisheries therein. The New Englanders viewed Louisbourg as the trump card in the war, and the fortress that defended its port as impenetrable. Any attempt to lay siege to it was widely regarded as foolhardy. Nevertheless, its overthrow was determined necessary and an expedition of New England militia combined with British naval forces was compiled to perform the effort. In Wall’s recording of the campaign, he describes the colonial force as “an army plagued with serious problems of leadership, experience, discipline, and equipment” (76). In addition to the colonial army’s underdog status, there was the fact that the French represented to them Papal-imperial despotism. These dynamics were most likely responsible for the “air of crusade” Belknap describes among the New England colonial troops who stormed Louisbourg (Belknap 315). The siege turned out to be an unexpected success, with the New England army suffering nominal casualties and the French surrendering the majority of their troops after six months. At the time, many believed that divine providence was responsible for the victory. Wall credits the vulnerable geographical location of the fortress (it was seated in a valley) and poor military decisions made by the French commander for its trouncing by the apparently weaker New England army. Belknap’s account of the expedition is careful not to openly attribute the New England victory to divine favor. He simply sets down a sequential narrative of the fortunate events and tides in battle that befell the colonial army, letting the reader draw his or her own conclusions. Belknap does openly describe how the British navy took sole credit for the siege’s success, expressing the common post-Revolution disdain Americans had for the English.
This piece demonstrates Belknap’s judicious style at its best. The New England preacher and historian manages to bridge the conflicting forces of Calvinistic interpretation and Enlightenment rationality, as well as the bias against both the British military and the loathed French papists, without falling into zealousness or bland neutrality. Current historians would do well to emulate Belknap’s writing. His diligence and literary tact are a testament to the unique development of New England rationalism from its Puritan roots.
Endnotes
1. For a comprehensive discussion of the influence of Enlightenment philosophers on American Revolutionary thought, see Nathan O. Hatch’s The William and Mary Quarterly article “Origins of Civil Millennialism in America: New England Clergyman, War with France, and the Revolution” and Robert E. Shalhope’s book, The Roots of Democracy: American Thought and Culture.
Note on the text
Originally published in the second volume of The History of New Hampshire in 1793, the text here is taken from A Library of American Literature: From the Earliest Settlement to the Present Time. Ed. by Edmund Clarence Stedman and Ellen Mackay Hutchinson. Ten vols. New York: Charles L. Webster, 1891) 3:313-19.
Jeremy Belknap
Born in Boston, Mass. 1744. Died there, 1798.
THE SIEGE OF LOUISBOURG.
[The History of New Hampshire. 1793.]
The harbor of Louisbourg1 lies in latitude 45° 55’; its entrance is about four hundred yards wide. The anchorage is uniformly safe, and ships may run ashore on a soft muddy bottom. The depth of water at the entrance is from nine to twelve fathoms. The harbor lies open to the south-east. Upon a neck of land on the south side of the harbor was built the town, two miles and a quarter in circumference; fortified in every accessible part with a rampart of stone, from thirty to thirty-six feet high, and a ditch eighty feet wide. A space of about two hundred yards was left without a rampart, on the side next to the sea; it was enclosed by a simple dike and a line of pickets. The sea was so shallow in this place that it made only a narrow channel, inaccessible from its numerous reefs to any shipping whatever. The side fire from the bastions secured this spot from an attack. There were six bastions and three batteries, containing embrasures for one hundred and forty-eight cannon, of which sixty-five only were mounted, and sixteen mortars. On an island at the entrance of the harbor was planted a battery of the harbor, directly opposite to the entrance, was the grand or royal battery of twenty-eight pounds shot; and at the bottom of the harbor, directly opposite to the entrance, was the grand or royal battery of twenty-eight cannon, forty-two pounders, and two eighteen pounders. On a high cliff, opposite to the island battery, stood a lighthouse; and within this point, at the north-east part of the harbor, was a careening wharf secure from all winds, and a magazine of naval stores.
The town was regularly laid out in squares. The streets were broad; the houses mostly of wood, but some of stone. On the west side, near the rampart, was a spacious citadel, and a large parade; on one side of which were the Governor’s apartments.[2] Under the rampart were casemates to receive the women and children during a siege. The entrance of the town on the land side was at the west gate, over a draw-bridge, near to which was a circular battery, mounting sixteen guns of twenty-four pounds shot.
These works had been twenty-five years in building; and though not finished, had cost the Crown not less than thirty millions of livres. The place was so strong as to be called “the Dunkirk of America.” It was, in peace, a safe retreat for the ships of France bound homeward from the East and West Indies; and in war, a source of distress to the northern English Colonies; its situation being extremely favorable for privateers to ruin their fishery and interrupt their coasting and foreign trade; for which reasons, the reduction of it was an object as desirable to them, as that of Carthage was to the Romans.
It has been said that a plan of this famous enterprise was first suggested by William Vaughan, a son of Lieutenant-Governor Vaughan of New Hampshire. Several other persons have claimed the like merit. How far each one’s information or advice contributed toward forming the design, cannot now be determined. Vaughan was largely concerned in the fishery on the eastern coast of Massachusetts. He was a man of good understanding, but of a daring, enterprising and tenacious mind, and one who thought of no obstacles to the accomplishment of his views. An instance of his temerity is still remembered. He had equipped, at Portsmouth, a number of boats to carry on his fishery at Montinicus.[3] On the day appointed for sailing, in the month of March, though the wind was so boisterous that experienced mariners deemed it impossible for such vessels to carry sail, he went on board one, and ordered the others to follow. One was lost at the mouth of the river, the rest arrived with much difficulty, but in a short time, at the place of their destination. Vaughan had not been at Louisbourg; but had learned from fishermen and others something of the strength and situation of the place; and nothing being in his view impracticable, which he had a mind to accomplish, he conceived a design to take the city by surprise; and even proposed going over the walls in the winter on the drifts of snow. This idea of a surprisal forcibly struck the mind of Shirley[4] and prevailed with him to hasten his preparations, before he could have any answer or orders from England.
The person appointed to command the expedition was William Pepperell, Esq. of Kittery, Colonel of a regiment of militia; a merchant of unblemished reputation and engaging manners, extensively known both in Massachusetts and New Hampshire, and very popular. These qualities were absolutely necessary in the Commander of an army of volunteers, his own countrymen, who were to quit their domestic connections and employments, and engage in a hazardous enterprise, which none of them, from the highest to the lowest, knew how to conduct. Professional skill and experience were entirely out of the question; had these qualities been necessary, the expedition must have been laid aside; for there was no person in New England, in these respects qualified for the command. Fidelity, resolution and popularity must supply the place of military talents; and Pepperell was possessed of these. It was necessary that the men should know and love their General, or they would not enlist under him.
Before Pepperell accepted the command, he asked the opinion of the famous George Whitefield, who was then itinerating and preaching in New England. Whitefield told him, that he did not think the scheme very promising; that the eyes of all would be on him; that if it should not succeed, the widows and orphans of the slain would reproach him; that if it should succeed, many would regard him with envy, and endeavor to eclipse his glory; that he ought therefore to go with “a single eye,” and then he would find his strength proportioned to his necessity. Henry Sherburne, the Commissary of New Hampshire, another of Whitefield’s friends, pressed him to favor the expedition and give a motto for the flag; to which, after some hesitation, he consented. The motto was, “Nil desperandum Christo duce.”[5] This gave the expedition the air of a crusade, and many of his followers enlisted. One of them, a Chaplain, carried on his shoulder a hatchet, with which he intended to destroy the images in the French churches.
There are certain latent sparks in human nature, which, by a collision of causes, are sometimes brought to light; and when once excited, their operations are not easily controlled. In undertaking anything hazardous, there is a necessity for extraordinary vigor of mind, and a degree of confidence and fortitude, which shall raise us above the dread of danger, and dispose us to run a risk which the cold maxims of prudence would forbid. The people of New England have at various times shown such an enthusiastic ardor, which has been excited by the example of their ancestors and their own exposed situation. It was never more apparent, and perhaps never more necessary, than on occasion of this expedition.
The instructions which Pepperell received from Shirley were conformed to the plan which he had communicated to Wentworth, but much more particular and circumstantial. He was ordered to proceed to Canseau,[6] there to build a block-house and batter, and leave two companies in garrison, and to deposit the stores which might not immediately be wanted by the army. Thence he was to send a detachment to the village of St. Peters,[7] on the island of Cape Breton, and destroy it; to prevent any intelligence which might be carried to Louisbourg; for which purpose also, the armed vessels were to cruise before the harbor. The whole fleet was to sail from Canseau, so as to arrive in Chappeaurouge bay about nine o’clock in the evening. The troops were to land in four divisions, and proceed to the assault before morning. If the plan for the surprisal should fail, he had particular directions where and how to land, march, encamp, attack and defend; to hold councils and keep records; and to send intelligence to Boston by certain vessels retained for the purpose, which vessels were to stop at Castle William,[8] and there receive the Governor’s orders. Several other vessels were appointed to cruise between Canseau and the camp, to convey orders, transport stores, and catch fish for the army. To close these instructions, after the most minute detail of duty, the General was finally “left to act upon unforeseen emergencies according to his discretion;” which, in the opinion of the military gentlemen, is accounted the most rational part of the whole. Such was the plan, for the reduction of a regularly constructed fortress, drawn by a lawyer, to be executed by a merchant at the head of a body of husbandmen and mechanics; animated indeed by ardent patriotism, but destitude of professional skill and experience. After they had embarked, the hearts of many began to fail. Some repented that they had voted for the expedition, or promoted it; and the most thoughtful were in the greatest perplexity.
The troops were detained at Canseau, three weeks, waiting for the ice which environed the island of Cape Breton to be dissolved. They were all this time within view of St. Peters, but were not discovered. Their provisions became short; but they were supplied by prizes taken by the cruisers. Among others, the New Hampshire sloop took a ship from Martinico, and retook one of the transports, which she had taken the day before. At length, to their great joy, Commodore Warren,[9] in the Superbe, of sixty guns, with three other ships with forty guns each, arrived at Canseau, and having held a consultation with the General, proceeded to cruise before Louisbourg. The General, having sent the New Hampshire sloop to cover a detachment which destroyed the village of St. Peters, and scattered the inhabitants, sailed with the whole fleet; but instead of making Chappeau-rouge point in the evening, the wind falling short, they made it at the dawn of the next morning; and their appearance in the bay gave the first notice to the French of a design formed against them.
The intended surprisal being thus unhappily frustrated, the next thing after landing the troops was to invest the city. Vaughan, the adventurer from New Hampshire, had the rank and pay of a Lieutenant-Colonel, but refused to have a regular command. He was appointed one of the Council of War, and was ready for any service which the General might think suited to his genius. He conducted the first column through the woods, within sight of the city, and saluted it with three cheers. He headed a detachment, consisting chiefly of the New Hampshire troops, and marched to the north-east part of the harbor, in the night; where they burned the warehouse, containing the naval stores, and staved a large quantity of wine and brandy. The smoke of this fire being driven by the wind into the grand battery, so terrified the French, that they abandoned it and retired to the city, after having spiked the guns and cut the halliards of the flag-staff. The next morning as Vaughan was returning, with thirteen men only, he crept up the hill which overlooked the battery, and observed that the chimnies of the barrack were without smoke, and the staff without a flag. With a bottle of brandy, which he had in his pocket (although he never drank spirituous liquors), he hired one of this party, a Cape Cod Indian, to crawl in at an embrasure and open the gate. He then wrote to the General these words, “May it please your honor, to be informed, that by the grace of God, and the courage of thirteen men, I entered the royal battery, about nine o’clock, and am waiting for reinforcement and a flag.” Before either could arrive, one of the men climbed up the staff, with a red coat in his teeth, which he fastened by a nail to the top. The piece of triumphant vanity alarmed the city, and immediately a hundred men were dispatched in boats to retake the battery.
But Vaughan, with his small party, on the naked beach, and in the face of a smart fire from the city and the boats, kept them from landing, till the reinforcement arrived. In every duty of fatigue or sanguine adventure, he was always ready; and the New Hampshire troops, animated by the same enthusiastic ardor, partook of all the labors and dangers of the siege. They were employed for fourteen nights successively, in drawing cannon from the landing place to the camp, through a morass; and their Lieutenant-Colonel Messerve, being a ship carpenter, constructed sledges, on which the cannon were drawn, when it was found that their wheels were buried in the mire. The men, with straps over their shoulders, and sinking to their knees in mud, performed labor beyond the power of oxen; which labor could only be done in the night or in a foggy day; the place being within plain view and random shot of the enemy’s walls.
It has been said that “this siege was carried on in a tumultuary, random manner, resembling a Cambridge commencement.” The remark is in a great measure true. Though the business of the Council of War was conducted with all the formality of a legislative assembly; though orders were issued by the General, and returns made by the officers at the several posts, yet the want of discipline was too visible in the camp. Those who were on the spot, have frequently in my hearing, laughed at the recital of their own irregularities, and expressed their admiration when they reflected on the almost miraculous preservation of the army from destruction. They indeed presented a formidable front to the enemy; but the rear was a scene of confusion and frolic. While some were on duty at the trenches, others were racing, wrestling, pitching quoits, firing at marks or at birds, or running after shot from the enemy’s guns, for which they received a bounty, and the shot were sent back to the city. The ground was so uneven and the people so scattered, that the French could form no estimate of their numbers; nor could they learn it from the prisoners, taken at the island battery, who on their examination, as if by previous agreement, represented the number to be vastly greater than it was, The garrison of Louisbourg had been so mutinous before the siege, that the officers could not trust the men to make a sortie, lest they should desert; had they been united and acted with vigor, the camp might have been surprised and many of the people destroyed.
Much has been ascribed, and much is justly due to the activity and vigilance of Commodore Warren, and the ships under his command; much is also due to the vigor and perseverance of the land forces, and the success was doubtless owing, under God, to the joint efforts of both. Something of policy, as well as bravery, is generally necessary in such undertakings; and there was one piece of management, which, though not mentioned by any historian, yet greatly contributed to the surrender of the city.
The capture of the Vigilant, a French sixty-four gun ship, commanded by the Marquis de la Maison forte, and richly laden with military stores for the relief of the garrison, was one of the most capital exploits performed by the navy.
This event, with the erection of a battery on the high cliff at the lighthouse, under the direction of Lieutenant-Colonel Gridley, by which the island battery was much annoyed, and the preparations which were evidently making for a general assault, determined Duchambon to surrender; and accordingly, in a few days he capitulated.
Upon entering the fortress and viewing its strength, and the plenty and variety of its means of defense, the stoutest hearts were appalled, and the impracticability of carrying it by assault was fully demonstrated.
No sooner was the city taken, and the army under shelter, than the weather, which during the siege, excepting eight or nine days after the first landing, had been remarkably dry for that climate, changed for the worse; and an incessant rain of ten days succeeded. Had this happened before the surrender, the troops who had then begun to be sickly, and had none but very thin tents, must have perished in great numbers. Reinforcements of men, stores and provisions arrived, and it was determined in a Council of War to maintain the place and repair the breaches. A total demolition might have been more advantageous to the nation; but in that case, individuals would not have enjoyed the profits of drawing bills on the navy and ordnance establishments. The French flag was kept flying on the ramparts, and several rich prizes were decoyed into the harbor. The army supposed that they had a right to a share of the prizes; but means were found to suppress or evade their claim; nor did any of the Colony cruisers (except one), though they were retained in the service, under the direction of the Commodore, reap any benefit from the captures.
The news of this important victory filled America with joy, and Europe with astonishment. The enterprising spirit of New England gave a serious alarm to those jealous fears, which had long predicted the independence of the Colonies. Great pains were taken in England to ascribe all the glory to the navy, and lessen the merit of the army. However, Pepperell received the title of a Baronet, as well as Warren. The latter was promoted to be an Admiral; the former had a commission as Colonel in the British establishment, and was empowered to raise a regiment in America, to be in the pay of the Crown. The same emolument was given to Shirley, and both he and Wentworth acquired so much reputation as to be confirmed in their places. Vaughan went to England to seek a reward for his services, and there died of the smallpox. Solicitations were set on foot for a parliamentary reimbursement, which, after much difficulty and delay, was obtained; and the Colonies who had expended their substance were in credit at the British treasury. The justice and policy of this measure must appear to every one, who considers, that excepting the suppression of a rebellion within the bowels of the kingdom, this conquest was the only action which could be called a victory, on the part of the British nation, during the whole French war, and afforded them the means of purchasing a peace.
Notes
1. Louisbourg was a French settlement and military fortress located on Breton Island off of Novia Scotia.
2. Admiral Louis Dupont DuChambon was the governor of Louisbourg and commander of its forces.
3. Montinicus Island, now spelled Mantinicus Island, is located off the Penobscot Bay in Maine.
4. William Shirley was the governor of Massachusetts and secretary to General Braddock, the British commander of the English and colonial forces.
5. Latin: “Nothing is to be despaired of when Christ is their leader.”
6. Canseau was the sight of a small English settlement and fort on Breton Island, about ten miles southwest of Louisbourg.
7. St. Peters is a village in the northern inlets of Breton Island, roughly about ten miles west and twenty-five miles north of Louisbourg.
8. Castle William was a fort located in Boston Harbor.
9. Peter Warren was a commodore of the British Navy.
Works Cited
Hatch, Nathan O. “Origins of Civil Millennialism in America: New England Clergymen, War with France, and the Revolution.” The William and Mary Quarterly 31.3 (1974): 407-30.
Kaplan, Sidney. “The History of New Hampshire: Jeremy Belknap as Literary Craftsman.” The William and Mary Quarterly 21.1 (1964): 18-39.
Kirsch, George B. Jeremy Belknap: A Biography. New York: Arno Press, 1982.
Lawson, Russell M. The American Plutarch: Jeremy Belknap and the Historian’s Dialogue with the Past. Connecticut: Praeger Publishers, 1998.
Shalhope, Robert E. The Roots of Democracy: American Thought and Culture, 1760-1800. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1990.
Tucker, Louis Leonard. Clio’s Consort: Jeremy Belknap and the Founding of the Massachusetts Historical Society. Massachusetts Historical Society, 1990.
Wall, Robert Emmet Jr. “Louisbourg, 1745.” The New England Quarterly 37.1 (1964): 64-83.
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“Jeremy Belknap, ‘The Siege of Louisbourg’ (1793).” Copyright 2006 Mike Lyndall. This text was prepared to fulfill a critical edition assignment offered in “Early American Literature,” a graduate-level seminar taught by Jon Miller at The University of Akron in the Spring of 2006. Please note, this is not peer-reviewed work. License: You are free and encouraged to copy and distribute this work under the following conditions: 1. You may not use this work for commercial purposes. 2. Any reuse or distribution must preserve this copyright, license, version, and citation information. 3. Any of these conditions can be waived if you get permission from the copyright holder. Version: First edition (May 2006). This document is, was created with, or contains the full text of a PDF file published by a website, The Akron Heron: Materials of American Literature. Please visit akronheron.com for possible corrections or improvements, which may appear in later editions of this file. Suggested citation: Jeremy Belknap, “The Siege of Louisbourg.” Ed. Mike Lyndall. First edition. The Akron Heron: Materials in American Literature from Jon Miller at The University of Akron 4 (May 2006): 6p. [Add date accessed and URL accessed].
