my secretary during the late fortunate expedition, is a thorough master
of the subject, and will be able to explain to you the whole design, and
the facility with which it may be executed, much more to your
satisfaction, and with greater perspicuity, than can possibly be done in
a letter. I shall therefore only further remark, that I have
communicated it to no other person but yourself; nor should I have
troubled you, Sir, but from a conviction that you will give a favourable
reception to any proposal intended for the public good.
The greatest part of the troops belonging to this establishment are now
employed in an expedition against the French in the Deccan: and, by the
accounts lately received from thence, I have great hopes we shall
succeed in extirpating them from the province of Golconda, where they
have reigned lords paramount so long, and from whence they have drawn
their principal resources during the troubles upon the coast.
Notwithstanding the extraordinary efforts made by the French for sending
out M. Lally with a considerable force the last year, I am confident,
before the end of this, they will be near their last gasp in the
Carnatic, unless some very unforeseen event interpose in their favour.
The superiority of our squadron, and the plenty of money and supplies of
all kinds which our friends on the coast will be furnished with from
this province, while the enemy are in total want of everything, without
any visible means of redress, are such advantages as, if properly
attended to, cannot fail of wholly effecting their ruin in that as well
as in every part of India.
May your zeal, and the vigorous measures projected for the service of
the nation, which have so eminently distinguished your ministry, be
crowned with all the success they deserve, is the most fervent wish of
him, who is with the greatest respect, Sir,
Your most devoted humble servant,
ROB. CLIVE.
[26] Mr. Pitt, in his speech on the Mutiny Bill, in December, 1757,
after adverting to the recent disgraces which had attended the British
arms, said, "We have lost our glory, honour, and reputation everywhere
but in India: there the country had a heaven-born general, who had never
learned the art of war, nor was his name enrolled among the great
officers who had for many years received their country's pay; yet was he
not afraid to attack a numerous army with a handful of men."
THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM.
_September 13, 1759._
I.
THE NIGHT ATTACK.
+Source.+--The following passages rest on the same authority, that of
Professor Robison, who, as a youth, served as midshipman in the same
boat with Wolfe--or, according to another account, commanded the boat
next to his--on the eventful night. The first quotation is taken from W.
W. Currie's _Life of James Currie_, 1831, vol. ii., p. 248; the second
from Dr. James Graham's _History of North America_, 1836, vol. iv., p.
51.
(_a_) "General Wolfe kept his intention of attacking Quebec a most
profound secret, not even disclosing it to the Second in Command, and
the night before the attack nothing was known. The boats were ordered to
drop down the St. Lawrence." (_b_) "Silence was commanded under pain of
death, which was indeed doubly menaced: and a death-like stillness
was observed in every boat, except the one which conveyed the
commander-in-chief, where, in accents barely audible to the profound
attention of his listening officers, Wolfe repeated that noble effusion
of solemn thought and poetic genius, Gray's _Elegy in a Country
Churchyard_, which had been recently published in London, and of which a
copy had been brought to him, by the last packet from England. When he
had finished his recitation, he added in a tone still guardedly low, but
earnest and emphatic,--'Now, gentlemen, I would rather be the author of
that poem than take Quebec.'"
II.
THE BATTLE.
+Source.+--_An Historical Journal of the Campaigns in North America_, by
Captain John Knox, 1769. Vol. ii., pp. 66-71, 77-79.
Before day-break this morning we made a descent upon the north shore [of
the St. Lawrence], about half a quarter of a mile to the eastward of
Sillez; and the light troops were fortunately, by the rapidity of the
current, carried lower down, between us and Cape Diamond; we had in this
debarkation, thirty flat-bottomed boats, containing about sixteen
hundred men. This was a great surprise on the enemy, who, from the
natural strength of the place, did not suspect, and consequently were
not prepared against, so bold an attempt. The chain of sentries, which
they had posted along the summit of the heights, galled us a little, and
picked off several men, and some Officers, before our light infantry got
up to dislodge them. This grand enterprise was conducted and executed
with great good order and discretion; as fast as we landed, the boats
put off for reinforcements, and the troops formed with much regularity:
the General, with Brigadiers Monckton and Murray, were a-shore with the
first division. We lost nothing here, but clambered up one of the
steepest precipices that can be conceived, being almost a perpendicular,
and of an incredible height. As soon as we gained the summit, all was
quiet, and not a shot was heard, owing to the excellent conduct of the
light infantry under Colonel Howe; it was by this time clear daylight.
Here we formed again, the river and the south country in our rear, our
right extending to the town, and our left to Sillez, and halted a few
minutes. The general then detached the light troops to our left to route
the enemy from their battery, and to disable their guns, except they
could be rendered serviceable to the party who were to remain there: and
this service was soon performed. We then faced to the right, and marched
towards the town by files, till we came to the plains of Abraham, which
Mr. Wolfe had made choice of, while we stood forming upon the hill.
Weather showery; about six o'clock the enemy first made their appearance
upon the heights, between us and the town; whereupon we halted, and
wheeled to the right, thereby forming the line of battle.... General
Wolfe, Brigadiers Monckton and Murray, to our front line; and the second
was composed of the fifteenth, and two battalions of the sixtieth
regiment, under Colonel Burton, drawn up in four grand divisions, with
large intervals. The enemy had now likewise formed the line of battle,
and got some cannon to play on us, with round and canister shot: but
what galled us most was a body of Indians and other marksmen they had
concealed in the corn opposite to the front of our right wing, and a
coppice that stood opposite to our center, inclining towards our left:
but the Colonel Hale, by Brigadier Monckton's orders, advanced some
platoons, alternately, from the forty-seventh regiment, which, after a
few rounds, obliged these sculkers to retire.... About ten o'clock the
enemy began to advance briskly in three columns, with loud shouts and
recovered arms, two of them inclining to the left of our army, and the
third towards our right, firing obliquely at the two extremities of our
line, from the distance of one hundred and thirty--until they came
within forty yards; which our troops withstood with the greatest
intrepidity and firmness, still reserving their fire, and paying the
strictest obedience to their officers: this uncommon steadiness,
together with the havoc which the grape-shot from our field-pieces made
among them, threw them into some disorder, and was most critically
maintained by a well-timed, regular, and heavy discharge of our small
arms, such as they could no longer oppose; hereupon they gave way, and
fled with precipitation, so that, by the time the cloud of smoke was
vanished, our men were again loaded, and, profiting by the advantage we
had over them, pursued them almost to the gates of the town, and the
bridge over the little river, redoubling our fire with great eagerness,
making many Officers and men prisoners. The weather cleared up, with a
comfortably warm sunshine: the Highlanders chased them vigorously
towards Charles's river, and the fifty-eighth to the suburb close to
John's gate, until they were checked by the cannon from the two hulks;
at the same time a gun, which the town had brought to bear upon us with
grape-shot, galled the progress of the regiments to the right, who were
likewise pursuing with equal ardour, while Colonel Hunt Walsh, by a very
judicious movement, wheeled the battalions of Bragg and Kennedy to the
left, and flanked the coppice where a body of the enemy made a stand, as
if willing to renew the action; but a few platoons from these corps
completed our victory. Our joy at this success is irrepressibly damped
by the loss we sustained of one of the greatest heroes which this or any
other age can boast of,--GENERAL JAMES WOLFE, who received his mortal
wound, as he was exerting himself at the head of the grenadiers of
Louisbourg.... After our late worthy General, of renowned memory, was
carried off wounded, to the rear of the front line, he desired those who
were about him to lay him down; being asked if he would have a surgeon?
he replied, "it is needless; it is all over with me." One of them then
cried out, "they run, see how they run." "Who runs!" demanded our hero,
with great earnestness, like a person roused from sleep. The Officer
answered, "The enemy, Sir; Egad, they give way every-where." Thereupon
the General rejoined, "_Go one of you, my lads, to Colonel Burton;--tell
him to march Webb's regiment with all speed down to Charles's river, to
cut off the retreat of the fugitives from the bridge_." Then, turning on
his side, he added, "_Now, God be praised, I will die in peace_": and
thus expired....
The Sieur de Montcalm died late last night when his wound was dressed,
and he settled in bed, the Surgeons who attended him were desired to
acquaint him ingenuously with their sentiments of him, and, being
answered that his wound was mortal, he calmly replied, "he was glad of
it"; his Excellency then demanded,--"whether he could survive it long,
and how long?" He was told, "about a dozen hours, perhaps more,
peradventure less." "So much the better," rejoined this eminent warrior;
"I am happy I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec."... Some
time before this great man departed, we are assured he paid us this
compliment,--"Since it was my misfortune to be discomfited, and mortally
wounded, it is a great consolation to me to be vanquished by so brave
and generous an enemy: If I could survive this wound, I would engage to
beat three times the number of such forces as I commanded this morning
with a third of their number of British troops."
"THE HEAVEN-BORN MINISTER": HORACE WALPOLE'S HOMAGE TO PITT.
I.
IN THE GREAT YEAR.
+Source.+--_Works of Horace Walpole, Earl of Oxford_, 1798. Vol. ii.,
P. 375.
_To the Rt. Hon. William Pitt._
_November 19, 1759._
SIR,
On my coming to the town I did myself the honour of waiting on you and
lady Hesther Pitt, and though I think myself extremely distinguished by
your obliging note, I should be sorry for having given you the trouble
of writing it, if it did not lend me a very pardonable opportunity of
saying what I much wished to express, but thought myself too private a
person, and of too little consequence to take the liberty to say. In
short, sir, I was eager to congratulate you on the lustre you have
thrown on this country; I wished to thank you for the security you have
fixed to me of enjoying the happiness I do enjoy. You have placed
England in a situation in which it never saw itself--a task the more
difficult, as you had not to improve, but recover. In a trifling book
written two or three years ago, I said (speaking of the name in the
world the most venerable to me), "Sixteen unfortunate and inglorious
years since his removal have already written his eulogium" [in the
account of Sir Robert Walpole in the _Catalogue of Royal and Noble
Authors_]. It is but justice to you, sir, to add that that period ended
when your administration began.
II.
CHARACTER OF WILLIAM PITT, DESCRIBED BY WALPOLE IN THE LIGHT OF
SUBSEQUENT HISTORY.
+Source.+--_Memoirs of the Reign of George II._, 1847. Vol. iii.,
pp. 84, 85, 86, 176.
Pitt was now arrived at undisturbed possession of that influence in
affairs at which his ambition had aimed, and which his presumption had
made him flatter himself he could exert like those men of superior
genius, whose talents have been called forth by some crisis to retrieve
a sinking nation. He had said the last year to the Duke of Devonshire.
"My Lord, I am sure I can save this country, and no one else can." It
were ingratitude to him to say that he did not give such a reverberation
to our stagnating Councils, as exceedingly altered the appearance of our
fortune. He warded off the evil hour that seemed approaching; he infused
vigour into our arms; he taught the nation to speak again as England
used to speak to Foreign Powers; and so far from dreading invasions from
France, he affected to turn us into invaders. Indeed, these efforts were
so puny, so ill-concerted, so ineffectual to any essential purpose, that
France looked down with scorn on such boyish flippancies, which Pitt
deemed heroic, which Europe thought ridiculous, and which humanity saw
were only wasteful of lives, and precedents of a more barbarous warfare
than France had hitherto been authorized to carry on. In fact, Pitt had
neither all the talents he supposed in himself, nor which he seemed to
possess from the vacancy of great men around him....
Pitt's was an unfinished greatness: considering how much of it depended
on his words, one may almost call his an artificial greatness; but his
passion for fame and the grandeur of his ideas compensated for his
defects. He aspired to redeem the honour of his country, and to place it
in a point of giving law to nations. His ambition was to be the most
illustrious man of the first country in Europe; and he thought that the
eminence of glory could not be sullied by the steps to it being passed
irregularly. He wished to aggrandize Britain in general, but thought not
of obliging or benefiting individuals....
Posterity, this is an impartial picture. I am neither dazzled by the
blaze of the times in which I have lived, nor, if there are spots in the
sun, do I deny that I see them. It is a man I am describing, and one
whose greatness will bear to have his blemishes fairly delivered to
you--not from a love of censure in me, but of truth; and because it is
history I am writing, not romance.
DEATH OF GEORGE II. (1760).
_Horace Walpole to Sir Horace Mann._
ARLINGTON ST.,
_October 28, 1760_.
... This is Tuesday; on Friday night the King went to bed in perfect
health, and rose so the next morning at his usual hour of six; he called
for and drank his chocolate. At seven, for everything with him was exact
and periodic, he went into the closet.... Coming from thence, his _valet
de chambre_ heard a noise; waited a moment, and heard something like a
groan. He ran in, and in a small room between the closet and bedchamber
he found the King on the floor, who had cut the right side of his face
against the edge of a bureau, and who after a gasp expired. Lady
Yarmouth was called, and sent for Princess Amelia; but they only told
the latter that the King was ill and wanted her. She had been confined
some days with a rheumatism, but hurried down, and saw her father
extended on the bed. She is very purblind and more than a little deaf.
They had not closed his eyes; she bent down close to his face, and
concluded he spoke to her, though she could not hear him--guess what a
shock when she found the truth. She wrote to the Prince of Wales, but so
had one of the _valets de chambre_ first. He came to town, and saw the
Duke [of Cumberland] and the Privy Council. He was extremely kind at the
first--and in general has behaved with the greatest propriety, dignity,
and decency. He read his speech to the Council with much grace, and
dismissed the guards on himself to wait on his grandfather's body. It is
intimated that he means to employ the same ministers, but with reserve
to himself of more authority than has lately been in fashion. The Duke
of York and Lord Bute are named of the cabinet council. The late King's
will is not yet opened. To-day everybody kissed hands at Leicester
House, and this week, I believe, the King will go to St. James's. The
body has been _opened_; the great ventricle of the heart had burst. What
an enviable death! In the greatest period of the glory of this country,
and of his reign, in perfect tranquillity at home, at seventy-seven,
growing blind and deaf, to die without a pang, before any reverse of
fortune, or any distasted peace, nay, but two days before a ship-load of
bad news: could he have chosen such another moment?
APPENDIX
LONDON IN 1725-1736.
DEFOE'S DESCRIPTION OF LONDON IN 1725.
+Source.+--_A Tour through the Whole Island of Great Britain_, 1724-7.
Vol. ii., pp. 94-97.
_London_, as a City only, and as its Walls and Liberties live it out,
might, indeed, be viewed in a small Compass; but, when I speak of
_London_, now in the Modern Acceptation, you expect I shall take in all
that vast Mass of Buildings, reaching from _Black Wall_ in the _East_ to
_Tothill Fields_ in the _West_; and extended in an unequal Breadth, from
the Bridge, or River, on the _South_, to _Islington North_; and from
_Peterburgh House_ on the Bank Side in _Westminster_, to _Cavendish
Square_, and all the new Buildings by, and beyond _Hanover Square_, by
which the City of _London_, for so it is still to be called, is extended
to _Hyde Park Corner_ in the _Brentford Road_, and almost to _Maribone_
in the _Acton Road_, and how much farther may it spread, who knows? New
Squares, and new Streets rising up every Day to such a Prodigy of
Buildings, that nothing in the world does, or ever did, equal it, except
old _Rome_ in _Trajan's_ time, when the walls were Fifty Miles in
Compass, and the Number of Inhabitants Six Millions Eight Hundred
Thousand Souls.
It is the Disaster of _London_, as to the Beauty of its Figure, that it
is thus stretched out in Buildings, just at the pleasure of every
Builder, or Undertaker of Buildings, and as the Convenience of the
People directs, whether for Trade, or otherwise; and this has spread the
Face of it in a most straggling, confus'd Manner, out of all Shape,
uncompact, and unequal; neither long nor broad, round or square; whereas
the City of _Rome_, though a monster for its Greatness, yet was, in a
manner, round, with very few Irregularities in its Shape.
At _London_, including the Buildings on both Sides the Water, one sees
it, in some Places, Three Miles broad, as from St. _George's_ in
_Southwark_, to _Shoreditch_ in _Middlesex_; or Two Miles, as from
_Peterburgh House_ to _Montague House_; and in some Places, not half a
Mile, as in _Wapping_; and much less, as in _Redriff_ [Rotherhithe].
We see several Villages, formerly standing, as it were, in the County
and at a great Distance, now joyn'd to the Streets by continued
Buildings, and more making haste to meet in the like Manner; for
Example, 1. _Deptford_, This Town was formerly reckoned at least Two
Miles off from _Redriff_, and that over the Marshes too, a Place
unlikely ever to be inhabited; and yet now, by the Encrease of Buildings
in that Town itself, and by the Docks and Buildings-Yard on the River
Side, which stand between both the Town of _Deptford_, and the Streets
of _Redriff_ (or Rotherhith as they write it) are effectually joyn'd,
and the Buildings daily increasing; so that _Deptford_ is now more a
separated Town, but is become a Part of the great Mass, and infinitely
full of People also; Here they have, within the last Two or Three Years,
built a fine new Church, and were the Town of Deptford now separated,
and rated by itself. I believe it contains more People, and stands upon
more Ground, than the City of _Wells_.
The Town of _Islington_ on the _North_ side of the City, is in like
Manner joyn'd to the Streets of _London_, excepting one small Field, and
which is in itself so small, that there is no Doubt, but in a very few
years, they will be intirely joyn'd, and the same may be said of
_Mile-End_, on the _East_ End of the Town.
_Newington_, called _Newington Butts_, in _Surrey_, reaches out her Hand
_North_, and is so near joining to _Southwark_, that it cannot now be
properly called a Town by itself, but a Suburb to the Burrough, and if,
_as they now tell us is undertaken_, St. _George's Fields_ should be
built with Squares and Streets, a very little Time will shew us
_Newington_, _Lambeth_, and the _Burrough_, all making but one
_Southwark_.
The Westminster is in a fair Way to shake Hands with Chelsea, as St.
_Gyles's_ is with _Marybone_; and Great _Russel Street_ by _Montague
House_, with _Tottenham Court_: all this is very evident, and yet all
these put together are still to be called _London_: Whither will this
monstrous City then extend? and where must a Circumvallation or
Communication Line of it be placed?
THE PRESENTMENT OF THE MIDDLESEX GRAND JURY, JANUARY SESSION
(1735-1736).
+Source.+--_Distilled Spirituous Liquors the Bane of the Nation_, 1736.
We the Grand Jury for the County of _Middlesex_ taking notice of the
vast number of _Brandy_ and _Geneva-Shops_, _Sheds_, and _Cellars_, of
late set up and opened, for the retailing of _Gin_ and other _Spirituous
Liquors_, which being sold at a very low Rate, the Meaner, though
Useful, Part of the Nation, as Day-Labourers, Men and Women Servants,
and common Soldiers, nay even Children, are enticed and seduced to
taste, like, and approve of those pernicious _Liquors_ sold for such
small Sums of Money, whereby they are daily intoxicated and get drunk,
and are frequently seen in our streets in a Condition abhorrent to
reasonable Creatures.
It is visible, that by this destructive Practice, the strength and
Constitution of Numbers is greatly weakened and destroyed, and many are
thereby rendered useless to themselves as well as to the Community, many
die suddenly by drinking it to Excess, and infinite Numbers lay the
Foundation of Distempers which shorten their Lives, or make them
miserable, weak, feeble, unable and unwilling to Work, a Scandal and
Burthen to their Country.
But it does not stop here; the unhappy Influence reaches to the
Posterity of those poor unhappy Wretches, to the Children yet unborn,
who come half burnt and shrivelled into the World, who as soon as born,
suck in this deadly spirituous Poison with their Nurse's Milk; the
barbarous Mothers also often giving the detestable spirits to poor
Infants in their Arms; so that, if the Infection spreads, as it lately
has done, it must needs make a general Havock, especially among the
laborious Part of Mankind, who are seen manifestly to degenerate from
the more manly and robust Constitutions of preceding Generations.
The natural Consequences of which will be, that his Majesty will lose
Numbers of his Subjects, the Publick the Labour and Industry of her
People, the Soldiery will be greatly weakened and enfeebled, and Masters
will every Day have greater Reason to complain of bad and dishonest
Servants, especially whilst that scandalous Custom prevails amongst
Chandlers and other lower Trades, of giving Drams, making them uncapable
of doing their Business, saucy to their Superiors, and in the End tempts
them to cheat and rob their Masters, to supply themselves with large
quantities of this destructive Liquor.
We therefore the Grand Jury aforesaid, do present all such _Brandy_ and
_Geneva-Shops_, _Sheds_ and _Cellars_, where _Gin_ and other _Spirituous
Liquors_ are sold and vended by Retail, as publick Nuisances, which
harbour, entertain and shelter the indolent, dissolute, and incorrigibly
Wicked, that they are a high Grievance, and of the greatest ill
Consequence to all our Fellow Subjects, as most plainly appear by the
daily Meetings and Associations of Numbers of loose and disorderly
Persons of both Sexes in these Places, where after they have drank of
this most pernicious Liquor, they are ready for, and actually do spirit
up each other to perpetrate and execute the most bold, daring, and
mischievous Enterprizes, and shaking off all Fear and Sham, become
audaciously impudent in all manner of Vice, Lewdness, Immorality, and
Profaneness, in Defiance of all Laws, Human and Divine.