1759
Wolfe at Quebec
In early spring the chiefs of Canada met at Montreal to settle a plan of
defence. What at first they most dreaded was an advance of the enemy by
way of Lake Champlain. Bourlamaque, with three battalions, was ordered
to take post at Ticonderoga, hold it if he could, or, if overborne by
numbers, fall back to Isle-aux-Noix, at the outlet of the lake. La Corne
was sent with a strong detachment to intrench himself at the head of the
rapids of the St. Lawrence, and oppose any hostile movement from Lake
Ontario. Every able-bodied man in the colony, and every boy who could
fire a gun, was to be called to the field. Vaudreuil sent a circular
letter to the militia captains of all the parishes, with orders to read
it to the parishioners. It exhorted them to defend their religion, their
wives, their children, and their goods from the fury of the heretics;
declared that he, the Governor, would never yield up Canada on any terms
whatever; and ordered them to join the army at once, leaving none behind
but the old, the sick, the women, and the children.[700] The Bishop
issued a pastoral mandate: "On every side, dearest brethren, the enemy
is making immense preparations. His forces, at least six times more
numerous than ours, are already in motion. Never was Canada in a state
so critical and full of peril. Never were we so destitute, or threatened
with an attack so fierce, so general, and so obstinate. Now, in truth,
we may say, more than ever before, that our only resource is in the
powerful succor of our Lord. Then, dearest brethren, make every effort
to deserve it. 'Seek first the kingdom of God; and all these things
shall be added unto you.'" And he reproves their sins, exhorts them to
repentance, and ordains processions, masses, and prayers.[701]
[Footnote 700: _Mémoires sur le Canada, 1749-1760_.]
[Footnote 701: I am indebted for a copy of this mandate to the kindness
of Abbé Bois. As printed by Knox, it is somewhat different, though the
spirit is the same.]
Vaudreuil bustled and boasted. In May he wrote to the Minister: "The
zeal with which I am animated for the service of the King will always
make me surmount the greatest obstacles. I am taking the most proper
measures to give the enemy a good reception whenever he may attack us. I
keep in view the defence of Quebec. I have given orders in the parishes
below to muster the inhabitants who are able to bear arms, and place
women, children, cattle, and even hay and grain, in places of safety.
Permit me, Monseigneur, to beg you to have the goodness to assure His
Majesty that, to whatever hard extremity I may be reduced, my zeal will
be equally ardent and indefatigable, and that I shall do the impossible
to prevent our enemies from making progress in any direction, or, at
least, to make them pay extremely dear for it."[702] Then he writes
again to say that Amherst with a great army will, as he learns, attack
Ticonderoga; that Bradstreet, with six thousand men, will advance to
Lake Ontario; and that six thousand more will march to the Ohio.
"Whatever progress they may make," he adds, "I am resolved to yield them
nothing, but hold my ground even to annihilation." He promises to do his
best to keep on good terms with Montcalm, and ends with a warm eulogy of
Bigot.[703]
[Footnote 702: _Vaudreuil au Ministre, 8 Mai, 1759._]
[Footnote 703: _Vaudreuil au Ministre, 20_ [_?_] _Mai, 1759._]
It was in the midst of all these preparations that Bougainville arrived
from France with news that a great fleet was on its way to attack
Quebec. The town was filled with consternation mixed with surprise, for
the Canadians had believed that the dangerous navigation of the St.
Lawrence would deter their enemies from the attempt. "Everybody," writes
one of them, "was stupefied at an enterprise that seemed so bold." In a
few days a crowd of sails was seen approaching. They were not enemies,
but friends. It was the fleet of the contractor Cadet, commanded by
officer named Kanon, and loaded with supplies for the colony. They
anchored in the harbor, eighteen sail in all, and their arrival spread
universal joy. Admiral Durell had come too late to intercept them,
catching but three stragglers that had lagged behind the rest. Still
others succeeded in eluding him, and before the first of June five more
ships had come safely into port.
When the news brought by Bougainville reached Montreal, nearly the whole
force of the colony, except the detachments of Bourlamaque and La Corne,
was ordered to Quebec. Montcalm hastened thither, and Vaudreuil
followed. The Governor-General wrote to the Minister in his usual
strain, as if all the hope of Canada rested in him. Such, he says, was
his activity, that, though very busy, he reached Quebec only a day and a
half after Montcalm; and, on arriving, learned from his scouts that
English ships-of-war had already appeared at Isle-aux-Coudres. These
were the squadron of Durell. "I expect," Vaudreuil goes on, "to be
sharply attacked, and that our enemies will make their most powerful
efforts to conquer this colony; but there is no ruse, no resource, no
means which my zeal does not suggest to lay snares for them, and
finally, when the exigency demands it, to fight them with an ardor, and
even a fury, which exceeds the range of their ambitious designs. The
troops, the Canadians, and the Indians are not ignorant of the
resolution I have taken, and from which I shall not recoil under any
circumstance whatever. The burghers of this city have already put their
goods and furniture in places of safety. The old men, women, and
children hold themselves ready to leave town. My firmness is generally
applauded. It has penetrated every heart; and each man says aloud:
'Canada, our native land, shall bury us under its ruins before we
surrender to the English!' This is decidedly my own determination, and I
shall hold to it inviolably." He launches into high praise of the
contractor Cadet, whose zeal for the service of the King and the defence
of the colony he declares to be triumphant over every difficulty. It is
necessary, he adds, that ample supplies of all kinds should be sent out
in the autumn, with the distribution of which Cadet offers to charge
himself, and to account for them at their first cost; but he does not
say what prices his disinterested friend will compel the destitute
Canadians to pay for them.[704]
[Footnote 704: _Vaudreuil au Ministre, 28 Mai, 1759_.]
Five battalions from France, nearly all the colony troops, and the
militia from every part of Canada poured into Quebec, along with a
thousand or more Indians, who, at the call of Vaudreuil, came to lend
their scalping-knives to the defence. Such was the ardor of the people
that boys of fifteen and men of eighty were to be seen in the camp.
Isle-aux-Coudres and Isle d'Orléans were ordered to be evacuated, and an
excited crowd on the rock of Quebec watched hourly for the approaching
fleet. Days passed and weeks passed, yet it did not appear. Meanwhile
Vaudreuil held council after council to settle a plan of defence, They
were strange scenes: a crowd of officers of every rank, mixed pell-mell
in a small room, pushing, shouting, elbowing each other, interrupting
each other; till Montcalm in despair, took each aside after the meeting
was over, and made him give his opinion in writing.[705]
[Footnote 705: _Journal du Siége de Québec déposé à la Bibliothêque de
Hartwell, en Angleterre_. (Printed at Quebec, 1836.)]
He himself had at first proposed to encamp the army on the plains of
Abraham and the meadows of the St. Charles, making that river his line
of defence;[706] but he changed his plan, and, with the concurrence of
Vaudreuil, resolved to post his whole force on the St. Lawrence below
the city, with his right resting on the St. Charles, and his left on the
Montmorenci. Here, accordingly, the troops and militia were stationed as
they arrived. Early in June, standing at the northeastern brink of the
rock of Quebec, one could have seen the whole position at a glance. On
the curving shore from the St. Charles to the rocky gorge of the
Montmorenci, a distance of seven or eight miles, the whitewashed
dwellings of the parish of Beauport stretched down the road in a double
chain, and the fields on both sides were studded with tents, huts, and
Indian wigwams. Along the borders of the St. Lawrence, as far as the eye
could distinguish them, gangs of men were throwing up redoubts,
batteries, and lines of intrenchment. About midway between the two
extremities of the encampment ran the little river of Beauport; and on
the rising ground just beyond it stood a large stone house, round which
the tents were thickly clustered; for here Montcalm had made his
headquarters.
[Footnote 706: _Livre d'Ordres, Disposition pour s'opposer à la
Descente_.]
A boom of logs chained together was drawn across the mouth of the St.
Charles, which was further guarded by two hulks mounted with cannon. The
bridge of boats that crossed the stream nearly a mile above, formed the
chief communication between the city and the camp. Its head towards
Beauport was protected by a strong and extensive earthwork; and the
banks of the stream on the Quebec side were also intrenched, to form a
second line of defence in case the position at Beauport should be
forced.
In the city itself every gate, except the Palace Gate, which gave access
to the bridge, was closed and barricaded. A hundred and six cannon were
mounted on the walls.[707] A floating battery of twelve heavy pieces, a
number of gunboats, eight fireships, and several firerafts formed the
river defences. The largest merchantmen of Kanon's fleet were sacrificed
to make the fireships; and the rest, along with the frigates that came
with them, were sent for safety up the St. Lawrence beyond the River
Richelieu, whence about a thousand of their sailors returned to man the
batteries and gunboats.
[Footnote 707: This number was found after the siege. Knox, II. 151.
Some French writers make it much greater.]
In the camps along the Beauport shore were about fourteen thousand men,
besides Indians. The regulars held the centre; the militia of Quebec and
Three Rivers were on the right, and those of Montreal on the left. In
Quebec itself there was a garrison of between one and two thousand men
under the Chevalier de Ramesay. Thus the whole number, including
Indians, amounted to more than sixteen thousand;[708] and though the
Canadians who formed the greater part of it were of little use in the
open field, they could be trusted to fight well behind intrenchments.
Against this force, posted behind defensive works, on positions almost
impregnable by nature, Wolfe brought less than nine thousand men
available for operations on land.[709] The steep and lofty heights that
lined the river made the cannon of the ships for the most part useless,
while the exigencies of the naval service forbade employing the sailors
on shore. In two or three instances only, throughout the siege, small
squads of them landed to aid in moving and working cannon; and the
actual fighting fell to the troops alone.
[Footnote 708: See Appendix H.]
[Footnote 709: Ibid.]
Vaudreuil and Bigot took up their quarters with the army. The
Governor-General had delegated the command of the land-forces to
Montcalm, whom, in his own words, he authorized "to give orders
everywhere, provisionally." His relations with him were more than ever
anomalous and critical; for while Vaudreuil, in virtue of his office,
had a right to supreme command, Montcalm, now a lieutenant-general, held
a military grade far above him; and the Governor, while always writing
himself down in his despatches as the head and front of every movement,
had too little self-confidence not to leave the actual command in the
hands of his rival.
Days and weeks wore on, and the first excitement gave way to restless
impatience. Why did not the English come? Many of the Canadians thought
that Heaven would interpose and wreck the English fleet, as it had
wrecked that of Admiral Walker half a century before. There were
processions, prayers, and vows towards this happy consummation. Food was
scarce. Bigot and Cadet lived in luxury; fowls by thousands were
fattened with wheat for their tables, while the people were put on
rations of two ounces of bread a day.[710] Durell and his ships were
reported to be still at Isle-aux-Coudres. Vaudreuil sent thither a party
of Canadians, and they captured three midshipmen, who, says Montcalm,
had gone ashore _pour polissonner,_ that is, on a lark. These youths
were brought to Quebec, where they increased the general anxiety by
grossly exaggerating the English force.
[Footnote 710: _Mémoires sur le Canada, 1749-1760._]
At length it became known that eight English vessels were anchored in
the north channel of Orleans, and on the twenty-first of June the masts
of three of them could plainly be seen. One of the fireships was
consumed in a vain attempt to burn them, and several firerafts and a
sort of infernal machine were tried with no better success; the
unwelcome visitors still held their posts.
Meanwhile the whole English fleet had slowly advanced, piloted by Denis
de Vitré, a Canadian of good birth, captured at sea some time before,
and now compelled to serve, under a threat of being hanged if he
refused.[711] Nor was he alone; for when Durell reached the place where
the river pilots were usually taken on board, he raised a French flag to
his mast-head, causing great rejoicings among the Canadians on shore,
who thought that a fleet was come to their rescue, and that their
country was saved. The pilots launched their canoes and came out to the
ships, where they were all made prisoners; then the French flag was
lowered, and the red cross displayed in its stead. The spectators on
shore turned from joy to despair; and a priest who stood watching the
squadron with a telescope is said to have dropped dead with the
revulsion of feeling.
[Footnote 711: _Mémorial de Jean-Denis de Vitré au Très-honorable
William Pitt._]
Towards the end of June the main fleet was near the mountain of Cape
Tourmente. The passage called the Traverse, between the Cape and the
lower end of the Island of Orleans, was reputed one of the most
dangerous parts of the St. Lawrence; and as the ships successively came
up, the captive pilots were put on board to carry them safely through,
on pain of death. One of these men was assigned to the transport
"Goodwill," in which was Captain Knox, who spoke French, and who reports
thus in his Diary: "He gasconaded at a most extravagant rate, and gave
us to understand that it was much against his will that he was become an
English pilot. The poor fellow assumed great latitude in his
conversation, and said 'he made no doubt that some of the fleet would
return to England, but they should have a dismal tale to carry with
them; for Canada should be the grave of the whole army, and he expected
in a short time to see the walls of Quebec ornamented with English
scalps.' Had it not been in obedience to the Admiral, who gave orders
that he should not be ill-used, he would certainly have been thrown
overboard." The master of the transport was an old sailor named Killick,
who despised the whole Gallic race, and had no mind to see his ship in
charge of a Frenchman. "He would not let the pilot speak," continues
Knox, "but fixed his mate at the helm, charged him not to take orders
from any person but himself, and going forwards with his trumpet to the
forecastle, gave the necessary instructions. All that could be said by
the commanding officer and the other gentlemen on board was to no
purpose; the pilot declared we should be lost, for that no French ship
ever presumed to pass there without a pilot. 'Ay, ay, my dear,' replied
our son of Neptune, 'but, damn me, I'll convince you that an Englishman
shall go where a Frenchman dare not show his nose.' The "Richmond"
frigate being close astern of us, the commanding officer called out to
the captain and told him our case; he inquired who the master was, and
was answered from the forecastle by the man himself, who told him 'he
was old Killick, and that was enough.' I went forward with this
experienced mariner, who pointed out the channel to me as we passed;
showing me by the ripple and color of the water where there was any
danger, and distinguishing the places where there were ledges of rocks
(to me invisible) from banks of sand, mud, or gravel. He gave his orders
with great unconcern, joked with the sounding-boats which lay off on
each side with different colored flags for our guidance; and when any of
them called to him and pointed to the deepest water, he answered: 'Ay,
ay, my dear, chalk it down, a damned dangerous navigation, eh! If you
don't make a sputter about it you'll get no credit in England.' After we
had cleared this remarkable place, where the channel forms a complete
zigzag, the master called to his mate to give the helm to somebody else,
saying, 'Damn me if there are not a thousand places in the Thames fifty
times more hazardous than this; I am ashamed that Englishmen should make
such a rout about it.' The Frenchman asked me if the captain had not
been there before. I assured him in the negative; upon which he viewed
him with great attention, lifting at the same time his hands and eyes to
heaven with astonishment and fervency."[712]
[Footnote 712: Others, as well as the pilot, were astonished. "The enemy
passed sixty ships of war where we hardly dared risk a vessel of a
hundred tons." "Notwithstanding all our precautions, the English,
without any accident, by night, as well as by day, passed through it
[_the Traverse_] their ships of seventy and eighty guns, and even many
of them together." _Vaudreuil au Ministre, 22 Oct. 1759_.]
Vaudreuil was blamed for not planting cannon at a certain plateau on the
side of the mountain of Cape Tourmente, where the gunners would have
been inaccessible, and whence they could have battered every passing
ship with a plunging fire. As it was, the whole fleet sailed safely
through. On the twenty-sixth they were all anchored off the south shore
of the Island of Orleans, a few miles from Quebec; and, writes Knox,
"here we are entertained with a most agreeable prospect of a delightful
country on every side; windmills, watermills, churches, chapels, and
compact farmhouses, all built with stone, and covered, some with wood,
and others with straw. The lands appear to be everywhere well
cultivated; and with the help of my glass I can discern that they are
sowed with flax, wheat, barley, peas, etc., and the grounds are enclosed
with wooden pales. The weather to-day is agreeably warm. A light fog
sometimes hangs over the highlands, but in the river we have a fine
clear air. In the curve of the river, while we were under sail, we had a
transient view of a stupendous natural curiosity called the waterfall of
Montmorenci."
That night Lieutenant Meech, with forty New England rangers, landed on
the Island of Orleans, and found a body of armed inhabitants, who tried
to surround him. He beat them off, and took possession of a neighboring
farmhouse, where he remained till daylight; then pursued the enemy, and
found that they had crossed to the north shore. The whole army now
landed, and were drawn up on the beach. As they were kept there for some
time, Knox and several brother officers went to visit the neighboring
church of Saint-Laurent, where they found a letter from the parish
priest, directed to "The Worthy Officers of the British Army," praying
that they would protect the sacred edifice, and also his own adjoining
house, and adding, with somewhat needless civility, that he wished they
had come sooner, that they might have enjoyed the asparagus and radishes
of his garden, now unhappily going to seed. The letter concluded with
many compliments and good wishes, in which the Britons to whom they were
addressed saw only "the frothy politeness so peculiar to the French."
The army marched westward and encamped. Wolfe, with his chief engineer,
Major Mackellar, and an escort of light infantry, advanced to the
extreme point of the island.
Here he could see, in part, the desperate nature of the task he had
undertaken. Before him, three or four miles away, Quebec sat perched
upon her rock, a congregation of stone houses, churches, palaces,
convents, and hospitals; the green trees of the Seminary garden and the
spires of the Cathedral, the Ursulines, the Recollets, and the Jesuits.
Beyond rose the loftier height of Cape Diamond, edged with palisades and
capped with redoubt and parapet. Batteries frowned everywhere; the
Chateau battery, the Clergy battery, the Hospital battery, on the rock
above, and the Royal, Dauphin's, and Queen's batteries on the strand,
where the dwellings and warehouses of the lower town clustered beneath
the cliff.
Full in sight lay the far-extended camp of Montcalm, stretching from the
St. Charles, beneath the city walls, to the chasm and cataract of the
Montmorenci. From the cataract to the river of Beauport, its front was
covered by earthworks along the brink of abrupt and lofty heights; and
from the river of Beauport to the St. Charles, by broad flats of mud
swept by the fire of redoubts, intrenchments, a floating battery, and
the city itself. Above the city, Cape Diamond hid the view; but could
Wolfe have looked beyond it, he would have beheld a prospect still more
disheartening. Here, mile after mile, the St. Lawrence was walled by a
range of steeps, often inaccessible, and always so difficult that a few
men at the top could hold an army in check; while at Cap-Rouge, about
eight miles distant, the high plateau was cleft by the channel of a
stream which formed a line of defence as strong as that of the
Montmorenci. Quebec was a natural fortress. Bougainville had long before
examined the position, and reported that "by the help of intrenchments,
easily and quickly made, and defended by three or four thousand men, I
think the city would be safe. I do not believe that the English will
make any attempt against it; but they may have the madness to do so, and
it is well to be prepared against surprise."
Not four thousand men, but four times four thousand, now stood in its
defence; and their chiefs wisely resolved not to throw away the
advantages of their position. Nothing more was heard of Vaudreuil's bold
plan of attacking the invaders at their landing; and Montcalm had
declared that he would play the part, not of Hannibal, but of Fabius.
His plan was to avoid a general battle, run no risks, and protract the
defence till the resources of the enemy were exhausted, or till
approaching winter forced them to withdraw. Success was almost certain
but for one contingency. Amherst, with a force larger than that of
Wolfe, was moving against Ticonderoga. If he should capture it, and
advance into the colony, Montcalm would be forced to weaken his army by
sending strong detachments to oppose him. Here was Wolfe's best hope.
This failing, his only chance was in audacity. The game was desperate;
but, intrepid gamester as he was in war, he was a man, in the last
resort, to stake everything on the cast of the dice.
The elements declared for France. On the afternoon of the day when
Wolfe's army landed, a violent squall swept over the St. Lawrence,
dashed the ships together, drove several ashore, and destroyed many of
the flatboats from which the troops had just disembarked. "I never saw
so much distress among shipping in my whole life," writes an officer to
a friend in Boston. Fortunately the storm subsided as quickly as it
rose. Vaudreuil saw that the hoped-for deliverance had failed; and as
the tempest had not destroyed the British fleet, he resolved to try the
virtue of his fireships. "I am afraid," says Montcalm, "that they have
cost us a million, and will be good for nothing after all." This
remained to be seen. Vaudreuil gave the chief command of them to a naval
officer named Delouche; and on the evening of the twenty-eighth, after
long consultation and much debate among their respective captains, they
set sail together at ten o'clock. The night was moonless and dark. In
less than an hour they were at the entrance of the north channel.
Delouche had been all enthusiasm; but as he neared the danger his nerves
failed, and he set fire to his ship half an hour too soon, the rest
following his example.[713]
[Footnote 713: Foligny, _Journal mémoratif. Vaudreuil au Ministre, 5
Oct. 1759. Journal du Siége_ (Bibliothêque de Hartwell).]
There was an English outpost at the Point of Orleans; and, about eleven
o'clock, the sentries descried through the gloom the ghostly outlines of
the approaching ships. As they gazed, these mysterious strangers began
to dart tongues of flame; fire ran like lightning up their masts and
sails, and then they burst out like volcanoes. Filled as they were with
pitch, tar, and every manner of combustible, mixed with fireworks,
bombs, grenades, and old cannon, swivels, and muskets loaded to the
throat, the effect was terrific. The troops at the Point, amazed at the
sudden eruption, the din of the explosions, and the showers of grapeshot
that rattled among the trees, lost their wits and fled. The blazing
dragons hissed and roared, spouted sheets of fire, vomited smoke in
black, pitchy volumes and vast illumined clouds, and shed their infernal
glare on the distant city, the tents of Montcalm, and the long red lines
of the British army, drawn up in array of battle, lest the French should
cross from their encampments to attack them in the confusion. Knox calls
the display "the grandest fireworks that can possibly be conceived." Yet
the fireships did no other harm than burning alive one of their own
captains and six or seven of his sailors who failed to escape in their
boats. Some of them ran ashore before reaching the fleet; the others
were seized by the intrepid English sailors, who, approaching in their
boats, threw grappling-irons upon them and towed them towards land, till
they swung round and stranded. Here, after venting their fury for a
while, they subsided into quiet conflagration, which lasted till
morning. Vaudreuil watched the result of his experiment from the steeple
of the church at Beauport; then returned, dejected, to Quebec.
Wolfe longed to fight his enemy; but his sagacious enemy would not
gratify him. From the heights of Beauport, the rock of Quebec, or the
summit of Cape Diamond, Montcalm could look down on the river and its
shores as on a map, and watch each movement of the invaders. He was
hopeful, perhaps confident; and for a month or more he wrote almost
daily to Bourlamaque at Ticonderoga, in a cheerful, and often a jocose
vein, mingling orders and instructions with pleasantries and bits of
news. Yet his vigilance was unceasing. "We pass every night in bivouac,
or else sleep in our clothes. Perhaps you are doing as much, my dear
Bourlamaque."[714]
[Footnote 714: _Montcalm à Bourlamaque, 27 Juin, 1759._ All these
letters are before me.]
Of the two commanders, Vaudreuil was the more sanguine, and professed
full faith that all would go well. He too corresponded with Bourlamaque,
to whom he gave his opinion, founded on the reports of deserters, that
Wolfe had no chance of success unless Amherst should come to his aid.
This he pronounced impossible; and he expressed a strong desire that the
English would attack him, "so that we may rid ourselves of them at
once."[715] He was courageous, except in the immediate presence of
danger, and failed only when the crisis came.
[Footnote 715: _Vaudreuil à Bourlamaque, 8 Juillet, 1759._]
Wolfe, held in check at every other point, had one movement in his
power. He could seize the heights of Point Levi, opposite the city; and
this, along with his occupation of the Island of Orleans, would give him
command of the Basin of Quebec. Thence also he could fire on the place
across the St. Lawrence, which is here less than a mile wide. The
movement was begun on the afternoon of the twenty-ninth, when, shivering
in a north wind and a sharp frost, a part of Monckton's brigade was
ferried over to Beaumont, on the south shore, and the rest followed in
the morning. The rangers had a brush with a party of Canadians, whom
they drove off, and the regulars then landed unopposed. Monckton ordered
a proclamation, signed by Wolfe, to be posted on the door of the parish
church. It called on the Canadians, in peremptory terms, to stand
neutral in the contest, promised them, if they did so, full protection
in property and religion, and threatened that, if they presumed to
resist the invaders, their houses, goods, and harvests should be
destroyed, and their churches despoiled. As soon as the troops were out
of sight the inhabitants took down the placard and carried it to
Vaudreuil.
The brigade marched along the river road to Point Levi, drove off a body
of French and Indians posted in the church, and took possession of the
houses and the surrounding heights. In the morning they were intrenching
themselves, when they were greeted by a brisk fire from the edge of the
woods. It came from a party of Indians, whom the rangers presently put
to flight, and, imitating their own ferocity, scalped nine of them.
Wolfe came over to the camp on the next day, went with an escort to the
heights opposite Quebec, examined it with a spy-glass, and chose a
position from which to bombard it. Cannon and mortars were brought
ashore, fascines and gabions made, intrenchments thrown up, and
batteries planted. Knox came over from the main camp, and says that he
had "a most agreeable view of the city of Quebec. It is a very fair
object for our artillery, particularly the lower town." But why did
Wolfe wish to bombard it? Its fortifications were but little exposed to
his fire, and to knock its houses, convents, and churches to pieces
would bring him no nearer to his object. His guns at Point Levi could
destroy the city, but could not capture it; yet doubtless they would
have good moral effect, discourage the French, and cheer his own
soldiers with the flattering belief that they were achieving something.
The guns of Quebec showered balls and bombs upon his workmen; but they
still toiled on, and the French saw the fatal batteries fast growing to
completion. The citizens, alarmed at the threatened destruction, begged
the Governor for leave to cross the river and dislodge their assailants.
At length he consented. A party of twelve or fifteen hundred was made up
of armed burghers, Canadians from the camp, a few Indians, some pupils
of the Seminary, and about a hundred volunteers from the regulars.
Dumas, an experienced officer, took command of them; and, going up to
Sillery, they crossed the river on the night of the twelfth of July.
They had hardly climbed the heights of the south shore when they grew
exceedingly nervous, though the enemy was still three miles off. The
Seminary scholars fired on some of their own party, whom they mistook
for English; and the same mishap was repeated a second and a third time.
A panic seized the whole body, and Dumas could not control them. They
turned and made for their canoes, rolling over each other as they rushed
down the heights, and reappeared at Quebec at six in the morning,
overwhelmed with despair and shame.[716]
[Footnote 716: _Événements de la Guerre en Canada_ (Hist. Soc. Quebec,
1861). _Mémoires sur le Canada, 1749-1760. Vaudreuil au Ministre, 5 Oct.
1759. L'Abeille_, II. No. 14 (a publication of the Quebec Seminary).
_Journal du Siége de Québec_ (Bibliothêque de Hartwell). Panet, _Journal
du Siége_. Foligny, _Journal mémoratif. Memoirs of the Siege of Quebec,
by John Johnson, Clerk and Quartermaster-Sergeant to the Fifty-eighth
Regiment_.]
The presentiment of the unhappy burghers proved too true. The English
batteries fell to their work, and the families of the town fled to the
country for safety. In a single day eighteen houses and the cathedral
were burned by exploding shells; and fiercer and fiercer the storm of
fire and iron hailed upon Quebec.
Wolfe did not rest content with distressing his enemy. With an ardor and
a daring that no difficulties could cool, he sought means to strike an
effective blow. It was nothing to lay Quebec in ruins if he could not
defeat the army that protected it. To land from boats and attack
Montcalm in front, through the mud of the Beauport flats or up the
heights along the neighboring shore, was an enterprise too rash even for
his temerity. It might, however, be possible to land below the cataract
of Montmorenci, cross that stream higher up, and strike the French army
in flank or rear; and he had no sooner secured his positions at the
points of Levi and Orleans, than he addressed himself to this attempt.
On the eighth several frigates and a bomb-ketch took their stations
before the camp of the Chevalier de Lévis, who, with his division of
Canadian militia, occupied the heights along the St. Lawrence just above
the cataract. Here they shelled and cannonaded him all day; though, from
his elevated position, with very little effect. Towards evening the
troops on the Point of Orleans broke up their camp. Major Hardy, with a
detachment of marines, was left to hold that post, while the rest
embarked at night in the boats of the fleet. They were the brigades of
Townshend and Murray, consisting of five battalions, with a body of
grenadiers, light infantry, and rangers,--in all three thousand men.
They landed before daybreak in front of the parish of L'Ange Gardien, a
little below the cataract. The only opposition was from a troop of
Canadians and Indians, whom they routed, after some loss, climbed the
heights, gained the plateau above, and began to intrench themselves. A
company of rangers, supported by detachments of regulars, was sent into
the neighboring forest to protect the parties who were cutting fascines,
and apparently, also, to look for a fording-place.
Lévis, with his Scotch-Jacobite aide-de-camp, Johnstone, had watched the
movements of Wolfe from the heights across the cataract. Johnstone says
that he asked his commander if he was sure there was no ford higher up
on the Montmorenci, by which the English could cross. Lévis averred that
there was none, and that he himself had examined the stream to its
source; on which a Canadian who stood by whispered to the aide-de-camp:
"The General is mistaken; there is a ford." Johnstone told this to
Lévis, who would not believe it, and so browbeat the Canadian that he
dared not repeat what he had said. Johnstone, taking him aside, told him
to go and find somebody who had lately crossed the ford, and bring him
at once to the General's quarters; whereupon he soon reappeared with a
man who affirmed that he had crossed it the night before with a sack of
wheat on his back. A detachment was immediately sent to the place, with
orders to intrench itself, and Repentigny, lieutenant of Lévis, was
posted not far off with eleven hundred Canadians.
Four hundred Indians passed the ford under the partisan Langlade,
discovered Wolfe's detachment, hid themselves, and sent their commander
to tell Repentigny that there was a body of English in the forest, who
might all be destroyed if he would come over at once with his Canadians.
Repentigny sent for orders to Lévis, and Lévis sent for orders to
Vaudreuil, whose quarters were three or four miles distant. Vaudreuil
answered that no risk should be run, and that he would come and see to
the matter himself. It was about two hours before he arrived; and
meanwhile the Indians grew impatient, rose from their hiding-place,
fired on the rangers, and drove them back with heavy loss upon the
regulars, who stood their ground, and at last repulsed the assailants.
The Indians recrossed the ford with thirty-six scalps. If Repentigny had
advanced, and Lévis had followed with his main body, the consequences to
the English might have been serious; for, as Johnstone remarks, "a
Canadian in the woods is worth three disciplined soldiers, as a soldier
in a plain is worth three Canadians." Vaudreuil called a council of war.
The question was whether an effort should be made to dislodge Wolfe's
main force. Montcalm and the Governor were this time of one mind, and
both thought it inexpedient to attack, with militia, a body of regular
troops whose numbers and position were imperfectly known. Bigot gave his
voice for the attack. He was overruled, and Wolfe was left to fortify
himself in peace.[717]
[Footnote 717: The above is from a comparison of the rather discordant
accounts of Johnstone, the _Journal tenu à l'Armée,_ the _Journal_ of
Panet, and that of the Hartwell Library. The last says that Lévis
crossed the Montmorenci. If so, he accomplished nothing. This affair
should not be confounded with a somewhat similar one which took place on
the 26th.]
His occupation of the heights of Montmorenci exposed him to great risks.
The left wing of his army at Point Levi was six miles from its right
wing at the cataract, and Major Hardy's detachment on the Point of
Orleans was between them, separated from each by a wide arm of the St.
Lawrence. Any one of the three camps might be overpowered before the
others could support it; and Hardy with his small force was above all in
danger of being cut to pieces. But the French kept persistently on the
defensive; and after the failure of Dumas to dislodge the English from
Point Levi, Vaudreuil would not hear of another such attempt. Wolfe was
soon well intrenched; but it was easier to defend himself than to strike
at his enemy. Montcalm, when urged to attack him, is said to have
answered: "Let him amuse himself where he is. If we drive him off he may
go to some place where he can do us harm." His late movement, however,
had a discouraging effect on the Canadians, who now for the first time
began to desert. His batteries, too, played across the chasm of
Montmorenci upon the left wing of the French army with an effect
extremely annoying.
The position of the hostile forces was a remarkable one. They were
separated by the vast gorge that opens upon the St. Lawrence; an
amphitheatre of lofty precipices, their brows crested with forests, and
their steep brown sides scantily feathered with stunted birch and fir.
Into this abyss leaps the Montmorenci with one headlong plunge of nearly
two hundred and fifty feet, a living column of snowy white, with its
spray, its foam, its mists, and its rainbows; then spreads itself in
broad thin sheets over a floor of rock and gravel, and creeps tamely to
the St. Lawrence. It was but a gunshot across the gulf, and the
sentinels on each side watched each other over the roar and turmoil of
the cataract. Captain Knox, coming one day from Point Levi to receive
orders from Wolfe, improved a spare hour to visit this marvel of nature.
"I had very nigh paid dear for my inquisitiveness; for while I stood on
the eminence I was hastily called to by one of our sentinels, when,
throwing my eyes about, I saw a Frenchman creeping under the eastern
extremity of their breastwork to fire at me. This obliged me to retire
as fast as I could out of his reach, and, making up to the sentry to
thank him for his attention, he told me the fellow had snapped his piece
twice, and the second time it flashed in the pan at the instant I turned
away from the Fall." Another officer, less fortunate, had a leg broken
by a shot from the opposite cliffs.
Day after day went by, and the invaders made no progress. Flags of truce
passed often between the hostile camps. "You will demolish the town, no
doubt," said the bearer of one of them, "but you shall never get inside
of it." To which Wolfe replied: "I will have Quebec if I stay here till
the end of November." Sometimes the heat was intense, and sometimes
there were floods of summer rain that inundated the tents. Along the
river, from the Montmorenci to Point Levi, there were ceaseless
artillery fights between gunboats, frigates, and batteries on shore.
Bands of Indians infested the outskirts of the camps, killing sentries
and patrols. The rangers chased them through the woods; there were brisk
skirmishes, and scalps lost and won. Sometimes the regulars took part in
these forest battles; and once it was announced, in orders of the day,
that "the General has ordered two sheep and some rum to Captain Cosnan's
company of grenadiers for the spirit they showed this morning in pushing
those scoundrels of Indians." The Indians complained that the British
soldiers were learning how to fight, and no longer stood still in a mass
to be shot at, as in Braddock's time. The Canadian _coureurs-de-bois_
mixed with their red allies and wore their livery. One of them was
caught on the eighteenth. He was naked, daubed red and blue, and adorned
with a bunch of painted feathers dangling from the top of his head. He
and his companions used the scalping-knife as freely as the Indians
themselves; nor were the New England rangers much behind them in this
respect, till an order came from Wolfe forbidding "the inhuman practice
of scalping, except when the enemy are Indians, or Canadians dressed
like Indians."
A part of the fleet worked up into the Basin, beyond the Point of
Orleans; and here, on the warm summer nights, officers and men watched
the cannon flashing and thundering from the heights of Montmorenci on
one side, and those of Pont Levi on the other, and the bombs sailing
through the air in fiery semicircles. Often the gloom was lighted up by
the blaze of the burning houses of Quebec, kindled by incendiary shells.
Both the lower and the upper town were nearly deserted by the
inhabitants, some retreating into the country, and some into the suburb
of St. Roch; while the Ursulines and Hospital nuns abandoned their
convents to seek harborage beyond the range of shot. The city was a prey
to robbers, who pillaged the empty houses, till an order came from
headquarters promising the gallows to all who should be caught. News
reached the French that Niagara was attacked, and that the army of
Amherst was moving against Ticonderoga. The Canadians deserted more and
more. They were disheartened by the defensive attitude in which both
Vaudreuil and Montcalm steadily persisted; and accustomed as they were
to rapid raids, sudden strokes, and a quick return to their homes, they
tired of long weeks of inaction. The English patrols caught one of them
as he was passing the time in fishing. "He seemed to be a subtle old
rogue," says Knox, "of seventy years of age, as he told us. We plied him
well with port wine, and then his heart was more open; and seeing that
we laughed at the exaggerated accounts he had given us, he said he
'wished the affair was well over, one way or the other; that his
countrymen were all discontented, and would either surrender, or
disperse and act a neutral part, if it were not for the persuasions of
their priests and the fear of being maltreated by the savages, with whom
they are threatened on all occasions.'" A deserter reported on the
nineteenth of July that nothing but dread of the Indians kept the
Canadians in the camp.
Wolfe's proclamation, at first unavailing, was now taking effect. A
large number of Canadian prisoners, brought in on the twenty-fifth,
declared that their countrymen would gladly accept his offers but for
the threats of their commanders that if they did so the Indians should
be set upon them. The prisoners said further that "they had been under
apprehension for several days past of having a body of four hundred
barbarians sent to rifle their parish and habitations."[718] Such
threats were not wholly effectual. A French chronicler of the time says:
"The Canadians showed their disgust every day, and deserted at every
opportunity, in spite of the means taken to prevent them." "The people
were intimidated, seeing all our army kept in one body and solely on the
defensive; while the English, though far less numerous, divided their
forces, and undertook various bold enterprises without meeting
resistance."[719]
[Footnote 718: Knox, I. 347; compare pp. 339, 341, 346.]
[Footnote 719: _Journal du Siége_ (Bibliothêque de Hartwell).]
On the eighteenth the English accomplished a feat which promised
important results. The French commanders had thought it impossible for
any hostile ship to pass the batteries of Quebec; but about eleven
o'clock at night, favored by the wind, and covered by a furious
cannonade from Point Levi, the ship "Sutherland," with a frigate and
several small vessels, sailed safely by and reached the river above the
town. Here they at once attacked and destroyed a fireship and some small
craft that they found there, Now, for the first time, it became
necessary for Montcalm to weaken his army at Beauport by sending six
hundred men, under Dumas, to defend the accessible points in the line of
precipices between Quebec and Cap-Rouge. Several hundred more were sent
on the next day, when it became known that the English had dragged a
fleet of boats over Point Levi, launched them above the town, and
despatched troops to embark in them. Thus a new feature was introduced
into the siege operations, and danger had risen on a side where the
French thought themselves safe. On the other hand, Wolfe had become more
vulnerable than ever. His army was now divided, not into three parts,
but into four, each so far from the rest that, in case of sudden attack,
it must defend itself alone. That Montcalm did not improve his
opportunity was apparently due to want of confidence in his militia.
The force above the town did not lie idle. On the night of the
twentieth, Colonel Carleton, with six hundred men, rowed eighteen miles
up the river, and landed at Pointe-aux-Trembles, on the north shore.
Here some of the families of Quebec had sought asylum; and Wolfe had
been told by prisoners that not only were stores in great quantity to be
found here, but also letters and papers throwing light on the French
plans. Carleton and his men drove off a band of Indians who fired on
them, and spent a quiet day around the parish church; but found few
papers, and still fewer stores. They withdrew towards evening, carrying
with them nearly a hundred women, children, and old men; any they were
no sooner gone than the Indians returned to plunder the empty houses of
their unfortunate allies. The prisoners were treated with great
kindness. The ladies among them were entertained at supper by Wolfe, who
jested with them on the caution of the French generals, saying: "I have
given good chances to attack me, and am surprised that they have not
profited by them."[720] On the next day the prisoners were all sent to
Quebec under a flag of truce.
[Footnote 720: _Journal tenu à l'Armée que commandoit feu M. le Marquis
de Montcalm._]
Thus far Wolfe had refrained from executing the threats he had affixed
the month before to the church of Beaumont. But now he issued another
proclamation. It declared that the Canadians had shown themselves
unworthy of the offers he had made them, and that he had therefore
ordered his light troops to ravage their country and bring them
prisoners to his camp. Such of the Canadian militia as belonged to the
parishes near Quebec were now in a sad dilemma; for Montcalm threatened
them on one side, and Wolfe on the other. They might desert to their
homes, or they might stand by their colors; in the one case their houses
were to be burned by French savages, and in the other by British light
infantry.
Wolfe at once gave orders in accord with his late proclamation; but he
commanded that no church should be profaned, and no woman or child
injured. The first effects of his stern policy are thus recorded by
Knox: "Major Dalling's light infantry brought in this afternoon to our
camp two hundred and fifty male and female prisoners. Among this number
was a very respectable looking priest, and about forty men fit to bear
arms. There was almost an equal number of black cattle, with about
seventy sheep and lambs, and a few horses. Brigadier Monckton
entertained the reverend father and some other fashionable personages in
his tent, and most humanely ordered refreshments to all the rest of the
captives; which noble example was followed by the soldiery, who
generously crowded about those unhappy people, sharing the provisions,
rum, and tobacco with them. They were sent in the evening on board of
transports in the river." Again, two days later: "Colonel Fraser's
detachment returned this morning, and presented us with more scenes of
distress and the dismal consequences of war, by a great number of
wretched families, whom they brought in prisoners, with some of their
effects, and near three hundred black cattle, sheep, hogs, and horses."
On the next night the attention of the excellent journalist was
otherwise engaged. Vaudreuil tried again to burn the English fleet.
"Late last night," writes Knox, under date of the twenty-eighth, "the
enemy sent down a most formidable fireraft, which consisted of a parcel
of schooners, shallops, and stages chained together. It could not be
less than a hundred fathoms in length, and was covered with grenades,
old swivels, gun and pistol barrels loaded up to their muzzles, and
various other inventions and combustible matters. This seemed to be
their last attempt against our fleet, which happily miscarried, as
before; for our gallant seamen, with their usual expertness, grappled
them before they got down above a third part of the Basin, towed them
safe to shore, and left them at anchor, continually repeating, _All's
well_. A remarkable expression from some of these intrepid souls to
their comrades on this occasion I must not omit, on account of its
singular uncouthness; namely: 'Damme, Jack, didst thee ever take hell in
tow before?'"
According to a French account, this aquatic infernal machine consisted
of seventy rafts, boats, and schooners. Its failure was due to no
shortcoming on the part of its conductors; who, under a brave Canadian
named Courval, acted with coolness and resolution. Nothing saved the
fleet but the courage of the sailors, swarming out in their boats to
fight the approaching conflagration.
It was now the end of July. More than half the summer was gone, and
Quebec seemed as far as ever beyond the grasp of Wolfe. Its buildings
were in ruins, and the neighboring parishes were burned and ravaged; but
its living rampart, the army of Montcalm, still lay in patient defiance
along the shores of Beauport, while above the city every point where a
wildcat could climb the precipices was watched and guarded, and Dumas
with a thousand men held the impregnable heights of Cap-Rouge. Montcalm
persisted in doing nothing that his enemy wished him to do. He would not
fight on Wolfe's terms, and Wolfe resolved at last to fight him on his
own; that is, to attack his camp in front.
The plan was desperate; for, after leaving troops enough to hold Point
Levi and the heights of Montmorenci, less than five thousand men would
be left to attack a position of commanding strength, where Montcalm at
an hour's notice could collect twice as many to oppose them. But Wolfe
had a boundless trust in the disciplined valor of his soldiers, and an
utter scorn of the militia who made the greater part of his enemy's
force.
Towards the Montmorenci the borders of the St. Lawrence are, as we have
seen, extremely high and steep. At a mile from the gorge of the cataract
there is, at high tide, a strand, about the eighth of a mile wide,
between the foot of these heights and the river; and beyond this strand
the receding tide lays bare a tract of mud nearly half a mile wide. At
the edge of the dry ground the French had built a redoubt mounted with
cannon, and there were other similar works on the strand a quarter of a
mile nearer the cataract. Wolfe could not see from the river that these
redoubts were commanded by the musketry of the intrenchments along the
brink of the heights above. These intrenchments were so constructed that
they swept with cross-fires the whole face of the declivity, which was
covered with grass, and was very steep. Wolfe hoped that, if he attacked
one of the redoubts, the French would come down to defend it, and so
bring on a general engagement; or, if they did not, that he should gain
an opportunity of reconnoitring the heights to find some point where
they could be stormed with a chance of success.
In front of the gorge of the Montmorenci there was a ford during several
hours of low tide, so that troops from the adjoining English camp might
cross to co-operate with their comrades landing in boats from Point Levi
and the Island of Orleans. On the morning of the thirty-first of July,
the tide then being at the flood, the French saw the ship "Centurion,"
of sixty-four guns, anchor near the Montmorenci and open fire on the
redoubts. Then two armed transports, each of fourteen guns, stood in as
close as possible to the first redoubt and fired upon it, stranding as
the tide went out, till in the afternoon they lay bare upon the mud. At
the same time a battery of more than forty heavy pieces, planted on the
lofty promontory beyond the Montmorenci, began a furious cannonade upon
the flank of the French intrenchments. It did no great harm, however,
for the works were protected by a great number of traverses, which
stopped the shot; and the Canadians, who manned this part of the lines,
held their ground with excellent steadiness.
About eleven o'clock a fleet of boats filled with troops, chiefly from
Point Levi, appeared in the river and hovered off the shore west of the
parish church of Beauport, as if meaning to land there. Montcalm was
perplexed, doubting whether the real attack was to be made here, or
toward the Montmorenci. Hour after hour the boats moved to and fro, to
increase his doubts and hide the real design; but he soon became
convinced that the camp of Lévis at the Montmorenci was the true object
of his enemy; and about two o'clock he went thither, greeted as he rode
along the lines by shouts of _Vive notre Général!_ Lévis had already
made preparations for defence with his usual skill. His Canadians were
reinforced by the battalions of Béarn, Guienne, and Royal Roussillon;
and, as the intentions of Wolfe became certain, the right of the camp
was nearly abandoned, the main strength of the army being gathered
between the river of Beauport and the Montmorenci, where, according to a
French writer, there were, towards the end of the afternoon, about
twelve thousand men.[721]
[Footnote 721: Panet, _Journal_.]
At half-past five o'clock the tide was out, and the crisis came. The
batteries across the Montmorenci, the distant batteries of Point Levi,
the cannon of the "Centurion," and those of the two stranded ships, all
opened together with redoubled fury. The French batteries replied; and,
amid this deafening roar of artillery, the English boats set their
troops ashore at the edge of the broad tract of sedgy mud that the
receding river had left bare. At the same time a column of two thousand
men was seen, a mile away, moving in perfect order across the
Montmorenci ford. The first troops that landed from the boats were
thirteen companies of grenadiers and a detachment of Royal Americans.
They dashed swiftly forward; while at some distance behind came
Monckton's brigade, composed of the fifteenth, or Amherst's regiment,
and the seventy-eighth, or Fraser's Highlanders. The day had been fair
and warm; but the sky was now thick with clouds, and large rain-drops
began to fall, the precursors of a summer storm.
With the utmost precipitation, without orders, and without waiting for
Monckton's brigade to come up, the grenadiers in front made a rush for
the redoubt near the foot of the hill. The French abandoned it; but the
assailants had no sooner gained their prize than the thronged heights
above blazed with musketry, and a tempest of bullets fell among them.
Nothing daunted, they dashed forward again, reserving their fire, and
struggling to climb the steep ascent; while, with yells and shouts of
_Vive le Roi!_ the troops and Canadians at the top poured upon them a
hailstorm of musket-balls and buckshot, and dead and wounded in numbers
rolled together down the slope. At that instant the clouds burst, and
the rain fell in torrents. "We could not see half way down the hill,"
says the Chevalier Johnstone, who was at this part of the line.
Ammunition was wet on both sides, and the grassy steeps became so
slippery that was impossible to climb them. The English say that the
storm saved the French; the French, with as much reason, that it saved
the English.
The baffled grenadiers drew back into the redoubt. Wolfe saw the madness
of persisting, and ordered a retreat. The rain ceased, and troops of
Indians came down the heights to scalp the fallen. Some of them ran
towards Lieutenant Peyton, of the Royal Americans, as he lay disabled by
a musket-shot. With his double-barrelled gun he brought down two of his
assailants, when a Highland sergeant snatched him in his arms, dragged
him half a mile over the mud-flats, and placed him in one of the boats.
A friend of Peyton, Captain Ochterlony, had received a mortal wound, and
an Indian would have scalped him but for the generous intrepidity of a
soldier of the battalion of Guienne; who, seizing the enraged savage,
held him back till several French officers interposed, and had the dying
man carried to a place of safety.
The English retreated in good order, after setting fire to the two
stranded vessels. Those of the grenadiers and Royal Americans who were
left alive rowed for the Point of Orleans; the fifteenth regiment rowed
for Point Levi; and the Highlanders, led by Wolfe himself, joined the
column from beyond the Montmorenci, placing themselves in its rear as it
slowly retired along the flats and across the ford, the Indians yelling
and the French shouting from the heights, while the British waved their
hats, daring them to come down and fight.
The grenadiers and the Royal Americans, who had borne the brunt of the
fray, bore also nearly all the loss; which, in proportion to their
numbers, was enormous. Knox reports it at four hundred and forty-three,
killed, wounded, and missing, including one colonel, eight captains,
twenty-one lieutenants, and three ensigns.
Vaudreuil, delighted, wrote to Bourlamaque an account of the affair. "I
have no more anxiety about Quebec. M. Wolfe, I can assure you, will make
no progress. Luckily for him, his prudence saved him from the
consequences of his mad enterprise, and he contented himself with losing
about five hundred of his best soldiers. Deserters say that he will try
us again in a few days. That is what we want; he'll find somebody to
talk to (_il trouvera à qui parler_)."
NOTE: Among the killed in this affair was Edward Botwood, sergeant in
the grenadiers of the forty-seventh, or Lascelles' regiment. "Ned
Botwood" was well known among his comrades as a poet; and the following
lines of his, written on the eve of the expedition to Quebec, continued
to be favorites with the British troops during the War of the Revolution
(see _Historical Magazine_, II., First Series, 164). It may be observed
here that the war produced a considerable quantity of indifferent verse
on both sides. On that of the English it took the shape of occasional
ballads, such as "Bold General Wolfe," printed on broadsides, or of
patriotic effusions scattered through magazines and newspapers, while
the French celebrated all their victories with songs.
HOT STUFF.
Air,--Lilies of France.
Come, each death-doing dog who dares venture his neck,
Come, follow the hero that goes to Quebec;
Jump aboard of the transports, and loose every sail,
Pay your debts at the tavern by giving leg-bail;
And ye that love fighting shall soon have enough:
Wolfe commands us, my boys; we shall give them Hot Stuff.
Up the River St. Lawrence our troops shall advance,
To the Grenadiers' March we will teach them to dance.
Cape Breton we have taken, and next we will try
At their capital to give them another black eye.
Vaudreuil 't is in vain you pretend to look gruff,--
Those are coming who know how to give you Hot Stuff.
With powder in his periwig, and snuff in his nose,
Monsieur will run down our descent to oppose;
And the Indians will come: but the light infantry
Will soon oblige _them_ to betake to a tree.
From such rascals as these may we fear a rebuff?
Advance, grenadiers, and let fly your Hot Stuff!
When the forty-seventh regiment is dashing ashore,
While bullets are whistling and cannons do roar,
Says Montcalm: "Those are Shirley's--I know the lappels."
"You lie," says Ned Botwood, "we belong to Lascelles'!
Tho' our cloathing is changed, yet we scorn a powder-puff;
So at you, ye b----s, here's give you Hot Stuff."
P/
On the repulse at Montmorenci, _Wolfe to Pitt, 2 Sept. 1759. Vaudreuil
au Ministre, 5 Oct. 1759_. Panet, _Journal du Siége_. Johnstone,
_Dialogue in Hades. Journal tenu à l'Armée, etc. Journal of the Siege of
Quebec, by a Gentleman in an eminent Station on the Spot. Mémoires sur
le Canada, 1749-1760_. Fraser, _Journal of the Siege. Journal du Siége
d'après un MS. déposé à la Bibliothêque Hartwell_. Foligny, _Journal
mémoratif. Journal of Transactions at the Siege of Quebec_, in _Notes
and Queries_, XX. 164. John Johnson, _Memoirs of the Siege of Quebec.
Journal of an Expedition on the River St. Lawrence. An Authentic Account
of the Expedition against Quebec, by a Volunteer on that Expedition. J.
Gibson to Governor Lawrence, 1 Aug. 1759_. Knox, I. 354. Mante, 244.