We need not here repeat the oft-told story of the capture of Louisburg by Amherst and Wolfe; or that of the fall of Fort Du Quesne, which Washington named Pittsburg. Tremendous enthusiasm was kindled in the colonies at the news of these successes. In England, when the stands of French colours, after being carried through the streets of London and laid at the feet of King George, were hung up in St. Paul’s Cathedral, the whole nation took fresh courage, and believed final victory near. The name of the dashing and spirited Wolfe was on every tongue; though the other heroes were not forgotten. In New England the names of the successful British leaders were made monumental in geography. Such places as Wolfboro, Amherst, Boscawen, and many others on the map, almost as numerous as the grains shaken from a pepper-box, testify to popular gratitude and enthusiasm. A different story is that of Abercrombie’s expedition. For the reduction of the French fortress on Lake Corlaer, or Champlain, the largest army ever gathered on the continent was encamped on the shores of Lake George. Of the sixteen thousand men about three fifths were brilliantly uniformed British regulars. For the first time the pavonine dress of the bare-legged Highlanders was seen on large bodies of men on this side of the Atlantic. Among the American militia officers were Stark, Putnam, Bradstreet, and Rogers. The following of Sir William Johnson was three hundred Indians. In over one thousand boats, with banners and music, the host moved down the lake, making a superb pageant. In the first skirmish in the woods between Lake George and Ticonderoga, the gallant Lord Howe was killed. With Howe, fell the real head and leading mind of the expedition for the capture of Fort Carillon, or Ticonderoga. Without waiting for his artillery, which, being loaded on rafts, came more slowly, Abercrombie, on the morning of July 8, ordered an attack on the French abattis which had been made by Montcalm, two hundred yards in front of the fort itself. This movement was against the advice of John Stark, who saw in the Frenchman’s line of defence a solid breastwork of logs. He knew, also, that the trees, cut down and laid with their branches outward over the space of three hundred feet in front of the breastwork, would throw the attacking platoons and columns out of order. With Braddock-like contempt for a provincial captain’s advice, Abercrombie, forgetting how the rude brushwood defence at Lake George had enabled the militia to repulse Dieskau’s regulars, ignored the hints given by Stark. Taking care to remain safely at the saw-mills, some distance in the rear, Abercrombie sent forward his men in four columns.