I attended Amherst College from 1983 to 1987 and
graduated with a BA in biology. I
was so proud to have been accepted there that on June 10, 1983 I wrote a paper
for my high school AP American History class on, as the Amherst Fight Song
goes, “the man who gave his name to [my] college upon the hill,” British Major
General 1st Baron Lord Jeffery Amherst (pictured). And
even though my memories of my time at Amherst are not fond, I was also proud to
be a graduate of what was then the top liberal arts college in the
country. I was proud, that is, until
I found out that the college leadership is seriously considering replacing its
“Lord Jeff” mascot with something more “PC.” It seems that, as the Fight Song goes, “the story of his
loyalty and bravery and fame” does not “abide here among [them] still.” For shame, Amherst College, for
shame! I believe a little history
lesson, courtesy of naïve then eighteen-year-old Steve’s AP American History
class paper, is in order.
In 1758, Prime Minister William Pitt put into motion his
plan to secure North America for the British Empire. He promoted then Colonel Jeffery Amherst to Major General
(over dozens of superior officers) and put him in command of the British
colonial forces with orders to eliminate France from the continent. The Indians allied themselves with the
French and resisted the British.
Thus, the French and Indian War began.
Known as “the cautious commander,” it was said of General
Amherst that he would “rather take a year than take a chance.” He was not dashing or bold. Rather, he was a brilliant strategist
who planned every move and anticipated every enemy action. He attacked only when he was sure the risk
was low. And, as the Fight Song
goes, “he conquered all the enemies that came within his sight,” while doing
everything possible to preserve the lives of those under his command, half of
whom were colonists.
General Amherst is also known as “the father of
biological warfare” for his practice of deliberately spreading small pox among
his Indian enemies. Not
sporting? Perhaps. But by doing so he saved the lives of
his own command and, by winning the war faster as a result, probably spared the
lives of the surviving Indians and many Frenchmen.
By 1760, Amherst had captured all of the strategic French
forts in New York and Ohio as well as the city of Montreal with minimal British
losses, essentially ending the conflict.
His overwhelming victory was formalized in 1763 by the Treaty of Paris,
which granted England all of French North America. Had that war gone differently, we just might all be singing La Marseillaise.
Thirteen years after the Treaty of Paris, the colonies
would declare themselves independent.
King George III turned to his best General, Lord Amherst, and asked him
to lead the suppression of the rebellion.
Amherst declined, saying he, “could not bring [himself] to fight against
those to whom [he] had been so much obliged.” Instead, King George was forced to rely upon the less
competent (some would say grossly incompetent) Generals Howe and
Cornwallis. It is not unsafe to
say that if Amherst had accepted his king’s commission in 1776, we just might
all be singing “God Save the Queen.”
I conclude with these words from the Fight Song:
You may
talk about your Johnnies and your Elis and the rest,
For
they are names that time will never dim.
But
give [me my] only Jeffery, he’s the noblest and the best,
Till
the end [I] will stand fast for him.
Oh,
Amherst, brave Amherst!
‘Twas a
name known to fame in days of yore.
May it
ever be glorious
Till
the sun shall climb the heavens no more.
