From the indifferent progress of Amherst and the untoward inactivity of
Gage, we may now return to the more stirring events of the expedition
against Quebec. Early in February a considerable squadron was equipped
in the English ports for North America, under the command of Admiral
Saunders.[175] A land force was to proceed under convoy of the fleet for
the same destination. Pitt justly estimated the importance and
difficulty of the enterprise. He looked around in vain among the senior
officers of the army for a chief worthy of the occasion. Judging that,
among them, the advantages of experience were more than counterbalanced
by the infirmities of age, he determined to trust the military honor of
England to the elastic vigor and sanguine confidence of youth.
While yet a boy, JAMES WOLFE had received the thanks of his general, the
Duke of Cumberland, on the field of La Feldt; rapid promotion had
followed this distinction. As lieutenant-colonel of a regiment, the
young officer had justified the notice of his superiors. He was
appointed to the staff in the inglorious expedition against Rochefort,
and gathered laurels where all was barren to his associates. At the
siege of Louisburg his transcendent merit shone in the strong light of
opportunity and success, and when still in early manhood he had gained a
fair maturity of fame. In him ambition was exalted by patriotism and
purified by religion. Modest in manners and conversation, he
nevertheless possessed in action self-reliance almost to presumption.
With the prize of honorable distinction in view, his daring courage
foiled every danger and difficulty, and "obstacles were but the stepping
stones to his success." He commanded the confidence and respect of the
rude soldiers, in spite of an almost feminine sensibility. When reverses
for a moment damped his hope, they at the same time served to brace his
energy. Ardent and laborious, daring and provident, practical and
studious, pertinacious yet reasonable, he was dignified in command and
docile in obedience. Gifted, gentle, and generous, earnest in life and
devoted in death, history may grace her page with the name of no greater
hero when she records the deeds of many a greater general.
Wolfe returned to England from Louisburg in the end of the year 1758. He
suffered severely from an illness, for which repose offered the only
chance of relief, and an early prospect of the realization of a long and
dearly-cherished hope drew him to home. But his aspiring spirit would
not yield either to the weakness of his frame or to the strength of his
affection, and almost immediately after landing from America, he
addressed Mr. Pitt in a modest and manly letter, and offered his
services for the next American campaign.
Wolfe's name stood high in the esteem of all who were qualified to
judge, but, at the same time, it stood low in the column of colonels in
the Army List. The great minister thought that the former
counterbalanced the latter. With instinctive genius, he discerned that
the young soldier possessed the peculiar qualifications suited for his
purpose, and, throwing aside the obstacles presented by official
routine, he recommended the gallant brigadier of Louisburg to the
especial notice of the king. One of the last gazettes in the year 1758
announced the promotion of Colonel James Wolfe to the rank of
major-general, and his appointment to the chief command of the
expedition against Quebec.
About the middle of February, 1759, the squadron sailed from England to
Louisburg, where the whole of the British force destined for the River
St. Lawrence was ordered to assemble. On the 21st of April Saunders and
his armament reached the coast of Cape Breton, but the harbors were
still blocked up with the ice of the preceding winter, and he could not
enter. He then bent his course for Halifax, on the neighboring peninsula
of Nova Scotia, and anchored the whole fleet in that magnificent sea
port. Twenty-two ships of the line, five frigates, and nineteen smaller
vessels of war, with a crowd of transports, were mustered under the
orders of the admiral, and a detachment of Artillery and Engineers, and
ten battalions of Infantry, with six companies of Rangers, formed
Wolfe's command; the right flank companies of the three regiments which
still garrisoned Louisburg soon after joined the army, and were formed
into a corps called the Louisburg Grenadiers. The total of the land
forces embarked were somewhat under 8000. Two thousand Infantry, which
had formed part of the expedition to the West Indies, under Hodgson,
were to have increased Wolfe's strength, but, owing to unavoidable
circumstances, they were subsequently countermanded.
Before leaving England Admiral Saunders had received intelligence that
the French would make an effort to run a convoy up the River St.
Lawrence for the relief of Quebec, at the first opening of the
navigation. He therefore dispatched Admiral Durell with a small squadron
to intercept it. From Halifax Saunders proceeded to Louisburg as soon as
the breaking up of the ice permitted, and there held counsel with Wolfe
upon the plan of the expedition. On the 15th of May he issued a general
order to the fleet, that, in case of any temporary separation from
adverse weather or other accidents, Gaspe Bay, in the Gulf of St.
Lawrence, was to be the first place of rendezvous, and the island of
Bic, 340 miles up the Great River, the next.
It was not, however, till the 1st of June that the British ships began
to weigh anchor in Louisburg Harbor, and the huge armament had not
altogether cleared the land for six days afterward. While spreading
sail, the admiral received the unwelcome news that three French frigates
and a cloud of store vessels had escaped Durell's squadron and reached
Quebec in safety. Two prizes were captured, however, which had lagged
somewhat behind, and they, besides a quantity of powder and other
munition, contained French charts of the River St. Lawrence, the
possession of which proved of great importance to the British fleet.
A cheerful and confident spirit pervaded all ranks and services in the
expedition. A portion of the troops, among whom were the gallant 43d,
had been for a considerable time doomed to unwilling inactivity upon the
dreary shores of Nova Scotia and Cape Breton; they especially were
filled with hopeful enthusiasm: as each successive transport cleared the
harbor and the broad expanse of sea appeared, shouts of joy burst from
the soldiers on the crowded decks.
On the 7th the fleet made the coast of Newfoundland, still covered with
the winter's snow; on the 9th it passed the Bird Islands in a stiff
breeze, and on the 11th made the headland of Gaspe. The desolate and
dangerous island of Anticosti was passed during the 13th with "most
delightful weather and favorable breezes; the fleet well together."
Early in the morning of the 18th they cast anchor within sight of the
island of Bic, where they found the Richmond frigate, which had got some
distance in advance, perhaps urged forward by the eager spirit of Wolfe,
who was on board. The next day they again sailed; on the 20th they were
becalmed off the mouth of the deep and gloomy Saguenay, and many of the
smaller vessels narrowly escaped being dashed against each other by the
powerful currents. In the night a favorable breeze arose, and cleared
them from their perilous entanglement, and now, at noon the following
day, the first Canadian settlement came in sight. On the 22d a French
ship was taken, on board of which were several nuns and some ladies of
distinction, a relation of the Marquis de Vaudreuil, governor of Canada,
among the number: they were treated with the greatest respect and
courtesy, and immediately sent back to Quebec under a flag of truce.
On the 23d the fleet passed the Narrows between Isle au Condre and the
shore, and in the evening came to anchor opposite the little settlement
of St. Joseph. There the first act of hostility took place: the
inhabitants fired upon some sounding boats which had neared the shore;
this was answered by a small detachment of the 15th Regiment, sent in a
barge for the protection of the sounders; little or no damage, however,
was inflicted by either party. In revenge for this attack, the little
Canadian village was subsequently burned, and the fields laid waste by a
body of British troops from before Quebec.[176] On the 25th the
difficult passage of "the Traverse" was made in safety, and on the
following day the armament anchored off the fair and fertile island of
Orleans, and the troops received orders of readiness to land.
About midnight, Lieutenant Meech and forty Rangers rowed silently toward
the shore, and, unobserved by the Canadians, effected a landing. Leaving
their boats, they pushed on through the darkness almost to the northern
side of the island; suddenly they came upon a numerous body of armed
peasants, who were engaged in burying different valuables for safety
against the invaders. The few shots which were speedily exchanged showed
the Rangers that they were outnumbered, and that a bold front was the
only chance of safety. A smart skirmish ensued; the Canadians, surprised
by the unexpected attack, and not aware what force might support their
assailants, gave way, and retired in confusion. Lieutenant Meech, happy
in having escaped the danger, also fell back, and took refuge in a
farm-house till the morning. During the night the inhabitants abandoned
the island.
The troops landed early on the 27th in a cove under the Church of St.
Lawrence, which sacred building they were implored to respect, through
the means of a placard directed to "the worthy officers of the British
army." The soldiers were charmed with the beauty and richness of the
island, and their comparative freedom after the weary voyage; but the
mind of their young general was filled with deep and anxious interest by
the sight of the stronghold that stood boldly out into the river a few
miles above. Accompanied by the chief engineer, Major M'Kellar, and an
escort of Light Infantry, Wolfe, as soon as he landed, pushed on to the
extremity of the island nearest to Quebec. A magnificent but
disheartening scene lay before him. On the summit of the highest
eminence, over the strait in the Great River from whence the basin
before him opened, the French flag waved. The crest of the rocky height
was crowned with formidable works redoubted and flanked. On every
favorable spot above, below, or on the rugged ascent, were batteries
bristling with guns. This stronghold formed the right flank of a
position eight miles in extent; the falls, and the deep and rapid stream
of the Montmorency, was the left. The shoals and rocks of the St.
Lawrence protected the broad front, and the rich valley of the St.
Charles, with the prosperous and beautiful villages of Charlesburg and
Beauport, gave shelter and hospitality in the rear. A crested bank of
some height over the Great River marked the main line of the defenses
from east to west; parapets, flanked at every favorable spot, aided
their natural strength. Crowding on this embattled bank, swarming in the
irregular village streets, and formed in masses on the hills beyond,
were 12,000 French and Canadian troops, led by the gallant Montcalm.
While Wolfe still gazed upon this appalling prospect a storm gathered
over his head, and burst in sudden violence. The teeming rain fell like
a vail between him and the beautiful but dangerous shore. Lightning
hissed through the air, and a hurricane swept over the river with
destructive strength. Transports were driven from their moorings and
cast ashore; smaller boats were dashed against each other and swamped,
and the vessels of war with difficulty held to their anchors. Silently
and thoughtfully the young general retraced his steps to the
landing-place, his sanguine and sensitive spirit oppressed for a moment
with the difficulties of his enterprise, and by the gloomy omen of the
heavens. But, before he rejoined the army, the weight was flung aside;
the elastic spring of his mind had resumed its play, and he entered the
camp with head erect and his usual bright and fearless aspect. He did
not forget that he received his high command in the confidence that "no
dangers or difficulties should discourage him."
The storm passed away as suddenly as it came; the evening of the 27th
fell calm and serene, but very dark; a few stars only were faintly
reflected from the surface of the waters. As the British sentinels paced
slowly to and fro upon the rocky shore of the island of Orleans facing
toward Quebec, the silence of the night was only broken by the echo of
their own footsteps and the ripple of the rapidly receding tide. About
midnight a soldier on one of the most advanced points called the
attention of his comrades on the neighboring posts to some dark objects
moving along the river--slowly, as if drifting with the tide in the
direction of the fleet, or rather toward some shoals to the northward of
the fleet, which had been marked out by buoys during the preceding day.
While the sentinels were yet debating about giving the alarm, each of
the dark objects sent forth a crashing salvo of artillery; grape-shot
rattled among the rocks and trees upon the shore, and plowed up the
surrounding waters. Shells and grenades leaped into the air, and
exploded with loud reports, now here, now there, on every side of the
astounded soldiers. At the same time bright red flames burst from these
fire-ships, sprung up among the masts and spars, quivered through the
distinctly visible tracery of the rigging, and spread out in broad
sheets over the collapsing sails. The river, the hostile camps, the
city, and the distant mountains, instantly stood revealed as in noonday
by this lurid light. As the blaze spread, explosion after explosion
racked the burning vessels; they staggered and spun half round under the
shocks; but still the ebb tide swept them rapidly on, near to where the
crowded transports lay.
This strange and terrible sight struck the sentries with uncontrollable
panic; they fled from their posts, carried their terrors to their
pickets, and all retired hastily toward the English camp. Falling in
upon each other in the woods, they became utterly confused. The alarm
spread; the whole line turned out, loaded their muskets, and prepared
somewhat unsteadily for action. Order and confidence were not fully
restored till daylight showed that there was no enemy at hand.
In the mean time, upon the river, where real danger threatened, it was
happily met with cool and courageous skill. As soon as the premature
ignition of the fire-ships gave the alarm to the fleet, a number of
well-manned boats put off and pulled toward them. The sailors waited
until the guns were discharged and the powder exploded; then fixed
grappling irons upon the burning vessels, and towed them leisurely
ashore, where those least injured were anchored; the rest drifted with
the tide upon the rocks, and soon broke into harmless ruin. Then, to the
sharp report of cannon and grenade, succeeded the cheerful and sonorous
"All's well" of the British seamen.
On the following morning, the 28th of June, Wolfe published a manifesto
to the Canadian people to the following effect: "We have a powerful
armament. We are sent by the English king to conquer this province, but
not to make war upon women and children, the ministers of religion, or
industrious peasants. We lament the sufferings which our invasion may
inflict upon you, but, if you remain neuter, we proffer you safety in
person and property, and freedom in religion. We are masters of the
river; no succor can reach you from France. General Amherst, with a
large army, assails your southern frontier. Your cause is hopeless, your
valor useless. Your nation have been guilty of great cruelties to our
unprotected settlers; but we seek not revenge: we offer you the sweets
of peace amid the horrors of war. England, in her strength, will
befriend you; France, in her weakness, leaves you to your fate."
This judicious proclamation was, however, at first, of little or no
avail. The Canadian clergy used their utmost endeavors to excite their
flocks against the heretical invaders, and implored them not to trust to
British promises. Hereditary hatred of the haughty islanders still
existed in the hearts of even the transatlantic French. The
counter-proclamations and threats of Montcalm also bewildered the
unhappy peasantry. He threatened them with death if they refused to
serve, and with the fury of the savages if they aided the English. In
consequence, the "habitans" generally used their best exertions to
embarrass the invaders and to assist the defense. They followed the
French banners pretty freely, and furnished such supplies to the army as
their means allowed. Not content with this, they gave the rein to the
fierce passions which intercourse with the Indians had strengthened.
They scalped without mercy all the English that fell into their hands,
massacred the wounded, and mutilated the dead. Wolfe appealed to his
gallant enemy to put a stop to these atrocities; but Montcalm's
authority was insufficient to restrain the savages, and their almost as
savage allies; and it must be admitted, to our shame, that the British
general was, in consequence, induced to connive at a vindictive
retaliation. Ultimately Wolfe issued the following strange and somewhat
conditional order: "The general strictly forbids the inhuman practice of
scalping, _except_ when the enemy are Indians, or Canadians dressed like
Indians." At the same time, however, he threatened with the punishment
of death all who might offer cruelty to women, and decreed the severest
penalties against plundering. The last order was ineffectual, for the
soldiers plundered in all directions.
While the British fleet had been slowly ascending the river, Montcalm
and his followers were busily preparing to receive it. They labored
unceasingly to add to the great natural strength of the country about
Quebec. Parapets were thrown up upon every vulnerable point, guns
mounted, and, above all, no efforts were spared to organize the numerous
but somewhat doubtful forces of the Canadian peasantry. Five veteran
French battalions, filled up by picked men from the colonial levies, and
two battalions of the "marine," or "colony troops," also trained
soldiers, formed the main strength of his army. The armed peasantry or
militia were chiefly posted for the defense of the long line of works
between Quebec and Montmorency, and several tribes of friendly Indians
hovered about among the neighboring woods.
The Canadians trusted much to the supposed difficulty of the river
navigation, and were inexpressibly disappointed when a preconcerted
signal announced that the vast British armament had passed the Narrows
in safety. When the crowding sails were seen rounding the isle of
Orleans, the people, in despair, flew to the churches to offer up their
prayers for the preservation of their country. At first the van of
Admiral Durell's squadron hoisted French colors, and the joyful rumor
spread along the shore that a fleet had arrived to their aid from
France. Pilots hastened on board to offer assistance to their supposed
friends; but when they were detained, and the British flag was hoisted
instead of the French, the pleasing illusion was dispelled. A Canadian
priest stood gazing delightedly upon the ships through a telescope: he
was so overwhelmed with consternation when he perceived the mistake that
he fell down and died.
The storm had taught the British admiral that the channel between the
island of Orleans and the south shore was neither a safe nor a
convenient anchorage; he therefore determined to pass up into the basin
with his whole fleet. Information had, however, been received that the
French occupied, in some force of infantry and artillery, a headland
called Point Levi, which is opposite to the headland of Quebec, and
which, with the latter, forms the strait at the entrance of the basin.
From this commanding position the enemy's guns might seriously annoy the
English ships. Saunders therefore requested General Wolfe to drive the
French away from this point, and to occupy it himself.
On the evening of the 29th of June, Brigadier-general Monckton, with his
brigade of four battalions and some Light Infantry and Rangers, were
formed on the southwestern extremity of the island of Orleans, in
readiness to pass over against Point Levi. Through some unforeseen
delay, they did not embark till dusk, and the light troops, with one
regiment only, were enabled to cross the river before the ebb of tide
rendered further movement impossible for the present. The remaining
three regiments lay for the night on their arms by the shore. The troops
which had embarked landed without opposition, and contented themselves
with taking possession of Beaumont Church on the south shore; there they
barricaded themselves, lighted watch-fires, and awaited the morning.
At earliest daylight Monckton embarked the rest of his brigade and
pushed across to the advance. The sound of musketry from the southern
shore soon stimulated the exertions of the rowers, and, as the scattered
shots breezed up into a skirmish, they used their utmost efforts to
increase their speed. The troops scarcely waited to form after landing,
but hastened on to the church where their comrades had passed the night.
There, however, they only met with a couple of wounded men; the Light
Infantry had speedily overpowered a detachment of colony troops, and
were still pressing hard upon their retreating footsteps through the
wood. The English brigadier found the banks of the river steep, the
country rugged and difficult: a few resolute men might have embarrassed
or baffled his expedition.
In the mean time the British light troops had arrested the pursuit at a
large farm-house at the foot of the hill which rises into the headland
of Point Levi; they deemed it prudent to secrete themselves there, lest
the enemy should return with re-enforcements before the succors arrived
from Orleans, and also because there was plenty of provisions, some
plunder, and a good fire. While the English soldiers were availing
themselves of these advantages, they were alarmed by hearing voices
close at hand: they seized their arms, searched the house and the
surrounding thickets without discovering any one. They at length
determined to fire the building and fall back upon the church. In a few
moments the farm-house was in a blaze. Then, to their horror, loud
shrieks of women and children burst from the burning ruins; they
hastened back, and used their best endeavors to save the sufferers, but
in vain; while they yet strove, the roof fell in with a crash, and all
was silent. The miserable victims had hidden themselves in a cellar at
the approach of the British troops. After this horrible incident the
Light Infantry fell back to Beaumont Church, where they found the whole
of Monckton's brigade assembled.
At ten o'clock the brigadier moved upon the heights of Point Levi,
preceded by a cloud of skirmishers. The way lay over a pleasant road,
with a highly cultivated country on either side, and was not disputed
till the British troops began to ascend the hill. They soon forced the
height, and hurried on to the village facing Quebec. Here, however, they
received a check. A strong body of Canadians threw themselves into the
church and the adjoining houses, and another detachment held stoutly to
a rocky eminence further to the rear. The English rallied and gained
possession of the buildings, but were speedily dislodged again; the
position was not finally won till the 78th Highlanders forced the flank
in overwhelming numbers, and Monckton himself, with four companies of
Grenadiers, broke through the front. The Canadians and Indians, who had
fought so stoutly, although not altogether more than 1000 strong,
crossed over to Quebec when evening fell. The British brigade housed
themselves luxuriously in the neat village of Point Levi: no guns fell
into their hands, nor were any works in progress on that side of the
river.
Montcalm felt that the assailants had gained a dangerous advantage in
the possession of Point Levi. Although at a distance of three quarters
of a mile from the city, heavy ordnance played from thence with ruinous
effect. In a council of war he had urged that 4000 men should be
strongly intrenched upon this position, with orders to hold it to the
last extremity; but his opinion was overruled by the governor, M. de
Vaudreuil, and from that time a fatal alienation arose between the two
French authorities. However, in the morning of the 1st of July, Montcalm
made a feeble effort to dislodge the British, by attacking their
position from three floating batteries. For an hour and a half the
French continued an annoying but almost harmless fire. Then Saunders
dispatched the Trent frigate to check the insult; favorable winds
carried her up to the scene of action, and a broadside concluded the
business.
From that time Wolfe exerted himself to put Point Levi beyond the reach
of further insult; batteries were thrown up, and guns mounted in
commanding situations. In the afternoon skirmishes took place, both in
the woods near this new position and on the island of Orleans; some
lives were lost without any result, and both parties behaved with savage
cruelty. On the following morning this useless mischief was continued:
the same evening Wolfe made a reconnoissance in some force up the right
bank of the river, and marked out the ground for batteries to bombard
the town. Some of the Rangers under Major Scott penetrated as far as the
Chaudiere River in this advance, but performed nothing worthy of notice.
The 48th Regiment, the Grenadiers and Light Infantry of the division,
and the Rangers, with working parties from other corps, broke ground
upon the high lands to the west of Point Levi on the 5th of July. They
labored with zeal, and the batteries which were to play from thence upon
Quebec soon began to assume a formidable appearance. The Rangers took
post during the day in small parties upon the adjoining hills, which
commanded the several approaches to the works, and erected small
breast-works for their defense, while they guarded against the sudden
approach of an enemy. In the mean time a portion of Townsend's brigade,
under Colonel Carleton, was engaged in throwing up strong intrenchments
on the westernmost point of Orleans. When these two positions were
occupied, the safety of the fleet in the basin was assured;
nevertheless, by some unaccountable temerity or carelessness, the
Leostoff cutter allowed herself to be surprised and taken by the enemy
while sounding. This little incident brought on a brisk cannonade, which
continued for nearly two hours, without, however, causing damage to
either party.
When the works on Point Levi and on the western extremity of the island
of Orleans were in a respectably defensible condition, Wolfe turned his
attention to the north shore of the St. Lawrence, where a favorable
position offered for threatening the French left. On the morning of the
9th the lighter vessels of the British fleet hauled in to the shore as
close as the depth of water would permit, and opened a fire upon the
enemy's lines between Quebec and the Falls of Montmorency. The range was
distant; nevertheless, the seamen plied their guns with such effect that
Montcalm found it necessary to strike the encampments near the shore,
and retire upon the high crest which extended along his whole front:
there he was beyond reach of annoyance. At the first dawn, Monckton's
brigade, with the exception of the working parties, was formed on the
slopes of the hills opposite Quebec, and ostentatiously marched up the
left bank of the St. Lawrence westward from Point Levi. The object of
the bombardment by the ships, and this movement of the troops, was to
divert the attention of the enemy from Wolfe's real object, which was to
establish himself upon the north shore by the Falls of Montmorency.
The movement of Monckton's corps was marked by an incident pre-eminently
lamentable, even among daily scenes of death and misery. A lieutenant of
Rangers, with twenty men, was sent to scour the woods to the southward
of the line of march, and, if possible, to gain information of the
enemy's movements. They pressed forward with somewhat rash zeal into the
woody solitudes, and, being overtaken by the night, lay on their arms
and returned the next morning. While retracing their steps, they were
attracted by smoke rising from a neighboring clearing. They approached
having spread themselves in a circle, to prevent the escape of those
they might discover. The smoke proceeded from a log hut, where they
found and captured a man and his three sons, the eldest a youth of
fifteen years. The Rangers then hurried homeward with their prize. They
had not got far on their road when the horrible war-whoop of the Indians
rose behind them, and a glance showed that their assailants were in
overpowering numbers. There was, however, still hope of escape, for the
Rangers were hardy and active men, skilled in forest craft, and,
happily, well acquainted with the rugged and intricate paths. They
plunged into the woods at a running pace, and in a few minutes emerged
into another road unknown to their fierce pursuers. But here an
unfortunate difficulty arose: the elder prisoners were hurried along,
unwillingly enough, but in terrified silence; not so the two younger,
who were mere children: they filled the air with lamentations and cries
of alarm that neither entreaties nor threats could check. The British
lieutenant then begged of them to leave him and return home; but the
poor innocents only clung the more closely to him, and wailed the
louder. The sole chance of escape lay in reaching, unobserved, a pass
which led to the new position of Monckton's brigade, and by which the
Indians might not expect them to retreat. The hapless children, however,
by their screams, guided the savages in their pursuit through the
tangled woods, and again the war-whoop sounded close behind the
fugitives. An awful moment of irresolution was succeeded by an awful
resolve; the British officer, with a mournful heart, gave the order that
his young prisoners should be silenced forever. The Rangers reached the
brigade in safety before evening.
While the attention of the enemy was distracted by Monckton and the
fleet, Wolfe passed over from Orleans to the eastward of Montmorency,
with a large force, at about one o'clock in the day, and encamped,
unopposed, on the left bank of the stream close to the falls. He
immediately placed some Light Artillery in position, and commenced
intrenching himself. The works were vigorously continued the following
morning, and Captain Dank's company of Rangers were pushed forward into
the woods to cover some parties who were engaged in making fascines for
the intrenchments. The Rangers had scarcely entered the bush when they
were suddenly and fiercely assailed by a considerable body of ambushed
Indians, and driven back with considerable loss. When they got into the
open ground, however, they rallied; the savages, elated with their first
success, pressed boldly on and renewed the combat, forcing the British
troops back over the fields toward the camp, and scalping and massacring
the wounded in the sight of their comrades. But the state of affairs was
soon changed; some advanced companies of Townshend's brigade, with two
field-pieces hurried out on hearing the firing: they fell on the flank
of the Indians, and slaughtered them without mercy.
The plan of Wolfe's operations was now fairly developed. The mass of his
army was formed in threatening array upon the extreme left of the French
position, and from a considerable height looked down almost into the
rear of their intrenchments. The British general had hoped that from
hence he might find a ford across the rapid stream of the Montmorency,
and force on an action in the open country behind the enemy's lines;
there he doubted not that the courage and discipline of his troops would
give him an easy victory over the numerous Canadian levies. But he had
altogether mistaken the difficulties of the undertaking. The only ford
was three miles up the stream; the bush was so dense and the country so
rugged that a few Indians sufficed to baffle his repeated attempts to
reconnoiter, and killed or wounded no less than forty of his men. He
could no longer endure the slaughter of his magnificent Light Infantry
by the hands of unseen savages, and altogether abandoned the idea of
crossing the river above the falls.
Montcalm quickly perceived the dangerous error of the English in
dividing their small army. As soon as Monckton's brigade commenced to
plant their guns on Point Levi, 1500 Canadians and savages were pushed
across the St. Lawrence from Quebec, and posted in the woods on the
right bank: they reconnoitered the English position, and, having
obtained a re-enforcement of 300 colony troops, prepared for an attack
on the night of the 13th. M. de Charrier, seigneur of Point Levi, a
skillful and a resolute man, commanded the assailants; meanwhile,
Wolfe, on hearing of the enemy's movements, had taken the command, in
person, at the south side of the river. The night came on still and
cloudless, but very dark; the weather was intensely hot, and the British
troops, wearied with the labors of the day, lay in profound repose, not
dreaming that the French would venture a night attack. The sentries,
indeed, paced their rounds, but, unconscious of the danger that lay
under the dark shadows of the neighboring forest, they still shouted
"All's well" as each hour passed away.
The French advanced in two columns, silently, and at first with great
steadiness; as they proceeded, the difficulty of the road and the
extreme darkness of the night threw them into some confusion; despite
the skill of their leader and his perfect knowledge of the ground, the
disorder increased. The most perfect discipline and self-confidence are
rarely proof against the hazards of a night attack; among raw levies,
such as were the bulk of De Charrier's followers, disorder, once
commenced, becomes inextricable. While he yet strove to re-form the
broken ranks, an unexplained noise in a coppice by the road side struck
the Canadians with sudden panic, and they rapidly retraced their steps.
The rear column, hearing the approach of numerous footsteps from the
front, supposed that the English were upon them, and poured a close
volley among the fugitives, who again, under a like mistake, returned
the fire. The bloodshed was only stayed by both parties flying in
different directions. Not less than seventy of the French were killed
and wounded in this untoward enterprise. The attempt was not renewed.
The British batteries being completed at Point Levi and at Montmorency,
a fire of guns and mortars was poured night and day upon the city of
Quebec, and upon the French lines to the westward. The enemy replied
with spirit, but with little effect. The Lower Town was much damaged by
the constant bombardment from the opposite side of the river, and at
eleven o'clock on the forenoon of the 16th, a fire broke out in the
Upper Town, where a shell had fallen. The flames spread with rapidity,
fanned by a strong northwest wind; many buildings were destroyed before
the conflagration was arrested; among others the great Cathedral, with
all its paintings, images, and ornaments. The defenses remained
untouched throughout this lamentable destruction; the assailants only
diminished the value of the prize for which they strove, without
approaching a whit nearer to its attainment.
Wolfe returned to the north camp on the 16th, and pushed the works above
the Falls of Montmorency with vigor. He frequently, during the day, sent
out detachments of troops to scour the neighboring woods, and to keep
the marauding Indians in check. The savages hovered constantly round the
British position, and from their ambush sprang like tigers upon those
who ventured unprotected within their reach. On the night of the 16th
they surprised and scalped four sentries of the Louisburg Grenadiers.
While Wolfe busied himself in strengthening his position, and
cannonading the French lines at a distance, M. de Levi, a distinguished
French officer, solicited Montcalm to drive him away. "Dislodge him
thence, and he will give us more trouble," replied Montcalm, "while
there he can not hurt us; let him amuse himself."
The British general determined to reconnoiter the banks of the river
above the town, while he still continued his preparations below. With
this view, a small squadron under Captain Rous sailed with fair wind and
tide a little before midnight on the 18th, and passed up unharmed in the
face of the enemy's batteries. One frigate, however, the Diana, ran
aground near Point Levi, and could not be got off till the following
day. This bold passage was a complete surprise to the besieged: the
English ships were not observed by the sentries till it was too late to
bring their guns to bear. Two of these unhappy soldiers paid the penalty
of death for their carelessness: they were hung on a gibbet the
following morning, in sight of both armies.
Montcalm lost no time in sending some guns up the left bank of the river
to annoy the British squadron; he erected a battery in a suitable
position at a place called Sillery, and compelled Rous to weigh anchor
and move up the stream. The French artillerymen had not been long
inactive after this achievement when they were again called to their
guns; a barge was discovered skirting the southern shore, and steering
toward the nearest English ship. They gave her a salvo as she went by,
and one shot carried away her mast; before they could reload she was out
of reach. General Wolfe was in this barge on his way to reconnoiter the
upper river.
Wolfe found the aspect of affairs as unpromising above the town as it
was below; the banks were every where high and precipitous; at each
assailable point intrenchments more or less formidable had been thrown
up, and each movement was jealously watched from the shore. However, to
divide and harass the enemy, and in the hope of procuring intelligence,
he sent Colonel Carleton, who commanded the troops embarked in Rous's
squadron, to make a descent upon the small town of Point aux Trembles,
to which many of the inhabitants of Quebec had retired with their
stores, papers, and valuables.
Carleton landed on the 22d at the head of three companies of Grenadiers
and a battalion of the Royal Americans; a few Indians offered some
resistance at first, and wounded several of the leading files, but were
soon overpowered and driven into the woods. A number of useless
prisoners, some plunder, and several packets of letters, fell into the
hands of the English. The latter were of importance. "De Vaudreuil, the
governor, and Montcalm have disagreed, and endeavor to embarrass each
other," quotes one writer. "But for respect for our priests, and fear of
the savages, we would submit," writes the next. "We are without hope,
and without food," says a third. "Since the English have passed the
town, our communication with Montreal is cut off--God has forsaken us,"
laments another. The misery of the besieged was great, therefore great
also was the hope of the besiegers.
To increase the distress of the enemy, an order was issued from the
English head-quarters on the 24th of July. "Our out-parties are to burn
and lay waste the country for the future, sparing only churches, or
houses dedicated to divine worship." However, it was again repeated,
"that women and children are not to be molested, on any account
whatsoever." We may suppose men received scant mercy. "We played so
warmly on the town last night, that a fire broke out in two different
parts of it at eleven o'clock, which burned with great rapidity until
near three this morning. We are erecting a new six-gun battery to the
right of the others, to keep the town in ruins, which appears to be
almost destroyed." So writes an officer of the 43d, in his journal,
dated Point Levi, 25th of July, 1759. Such is war, even when Wolfe, the
pious, the domestic, and the tender-hearted, was the general!
On the 26th the indefatigable British general proceeded up the left bank
of the Montmorency River to reconnoiter some works which the enemy were
erecting on the opposite side. His escort was attacked by a swarm of
Indians, and for a time hardly pressed; many of the English soldiers
were struck down before they could get sight of their subtle enemy; and
when the savages were finally silenced, it was with the loss of nearly
fifty of Wolfe's men killed and wounded. The next morning the 78th
Highlanders surprised a French detachment, and slew nine of them; their
own colonel and a captain were, however, wounded in the struggle.
In consequence of some threatening movements in the British fleet, the
French sent down a fire-raft on the night of the 28th. A number of small
schooners, shallops, and rafts were chained together, to the breadth of
200 yards, and laden with shells, grenades, old guns, pistols, and tar
barrels: this mischievous contrivance floated rapidly down with the ebb
tide. The English seamen, however, were, as before, alert, and towed the
fire-raft ashore, without its having caused the slightest damage. The
following morning Wolfe sent a flag of truce to the garrison of Quebec,
with the following message: "If the enemy presume to send down any more
fire-rafts, they are to be made fast to two particular transports, in
which are all the Canadian and other prisoners, in order that they may
perish by their own base inventions." The French constructed no more
fire-rafts.
[Footnote 175: "That admiral (Saunders) was a pattern of most sturdy
bravery, united with the most unaffected modesty. No man said less or
deserved more. Simplicity in his manners, generosity, and good nature
adorned his genuine love of his country."--Walpole's _Memoirs of George
II._, p. 394.]
[Footnote 176: "The sides of the river began immediately to show a most
dismal appearance of fire and smoke; and (as the troops employed on this
service were the remains of those who escaped the massacre of Fort
William Henry, where they killed and scalped every wounded officer and
common man) they spared little or nothing that came in their
way."--_Gentleman's Magazine_ vol. xxix., p. 556.]