Louisbourg should put them on the sick list. The two new
regiments, Shirley's and Pepperrell's, which were to be
recruited in the American colonies and form part of the
Imperial Army, could not be raised in time. There even
seemed to be some doubt as to whether they could be raised
at all. The absence of Pepperrell from New England, the
hatred of garrison duty in Louisbourg, and resentment at
seeing some Englishmen commissioned to command Americans,
were three great obstacles in the way. The only other
resource was the colonial militia, whose waifs and strays
alone could be induced to enlist.

Thus, once the ice began to form, the despairing Provincial
garrison saw there could be no escape. The only discharge
was death. What were then known as camp fevers had already
broken out in August. As many as twenty-seven funerals
in a single day passed by the old lime-kiln on the desolate
point beyond the seaward walls of Louisbourg. 'After we
got into the Towne, a sordid indolence or Sloth, for want
of Discipline, induced putrid fevers and dyssentrys,
which at length became contagious, and the people died
like rotten sheep.' Medical men were ignorant and few.
Proper attendance was wholly lacking. But the devotion
of the Puritan chaplains, rivalling that of the early
Jesuits, ran through those awful horrors like a thread
of gold. Here is a typical entry of one day's pastoral
care: 'Prayed at Hospital. Prayed at Citadel. Preached
at Grand Batery. Visited [a long list of names] all verry
Sick. [More names] Dy'd. Am but poorly myself, but able
to keep about.'