1759
Fall of Quebec
"Never was rout more complete than that of our army,"
says a French official.[783] It was the more so because Montcalm
held no troops in reserve, but launched his whole force at
once against the English. Nevertheless there was some resistance
to the pursuit. It came chiefly from the Canadians, many of whom had
not advanced with the regulars to the attack. Those on the right wing,
instead of doing so, threw themselves into an extensive tract of
bushes that lay in front of the English left; and from this cover
they opened a fire, too distant for much effect, till the victors
advanced in their turn, when the shot of the hidden marksmen told
severely upon them. Two battalions, therefore, deployed before the
bushes, fired volleys into them, and drove their occupants out.
[Footnote 783: _Daine au Ministre, 9 Oct. 1759_.]
Again, those of the Canadians who, before the main battle
began, attacked the English left from the brink of the plateau
towards the St. Charles, withdrew when the rout took place,
and ran along the edge of the declivity till, at the part of it
called Côte Ste.-Geneviève, they came to a place where it
was overgrown with thickets. Into these they threw themselves;
and were no sooner under cover than they faced about to fire upon
the Highlanders, who presently came up. As many of these mountaineers,
according to their old custom, threw down their muskets when they
charged, and had no weapons but their broadswords, they tried in vain
to dislodge the marksmen, and suffered greatly in the attempt. Other
troops came to their aid, cleared the thickets, after stout resistance,
and drove their occupants across the meadow to the bridge of boats.
The conduct of the Canadians at the Côte Ste.-Geneviève went far to
atone for the short-comings of some of them on the battle-field.
A part of the fugitives escaped into the town by the gates
of St. Louis and St. John, while the greater number fled along
the front of the ramparts, rushed down the declivity to the
suburb of St. Roch, and ran over the meadows to the bridge,
protected by the cannon of the town and the two armed hulks
in the river. The rout had but just begun when Vaudreuil
crossed the bridge from the camp of Beauport. It was four
hours since he first heard the alarm, and his quarters were
not much more than two miles from the battle-field. He does
not explain why he did not come sooner; it is certain that his
coming was well timed to throw the blame on Montcalm in
case of defeat, or to claim some of the honor for himself in
case of victory. "Monsieur the Marquis of Montcalm," he
says, "unfortunately made his attack before I had joined
him."[784] His joining him could have done no good; for though
he had at last brought with him the rest of the militia from
the Beauport camp, they had come no farther than the bridge
over the St. Charles, having, as he alleges, been kept there by
an unauthorized order from the chief of staff, Montreuil.[785]
He declares that the regulars were in such a fright that he
could not stop them; but that the Canadians listened to his
voice, and that it was he who rallied them at the Côte Ste.-Geneviève.
Of this the evidence is his own word. From other accounts it would
appear that the Canadians rallied themselves. Vaudreuil lost no time
in recrossing the bridge and joining the militia in the redoubt at
the farther end, where a crowd of fugitives soon poured in after him.
[Footnote 784: _Vaudreuil au Ministre, 21 Sept. 1759_.]
[Footnote 785: _Ibid., 5 Oct. 1759_.]
The aide-de-camp Johnstone, mounted on horseback, had
stopped for a moment in what is now the suburb of St. John
to encourage some soldiers who were trying to save a cannon
that had stuck fast in a marshy hollow; when, on spurring
his horse to the higher ground, he saw within musket-shot
a long line of British troops, who immediately fired upon him.
The bullets whistled about his ears, tore his clothes, and
wounded his horse; which, however, carried him along the
edge of the declivity to a windmill, near which was a roadway
to a bakehouse on the meadow below. He descended, crossed the
meadow, reached the bridge, and rode over it to the great redoubt
or hornwork that guarded its head.
The place was full of troops and Canadians in a wild panic.
"It is impossible," says Johnstone, "to imagine the disorder
and confusion I found in the hornwork. Consternation was
general. M. de Vaudreuil listened to everybody, and was always
of the opinion of him who spoke last. On the appearance
of the English troops on the plain by the bakehouse,
Montguet and La Motte, two old captains in the regiment of
Béarn, cried out with vehemence to M. de Vaudreuil 'that
the hornwork would be taken in an instant by assault, sword
in hand; that we all should be cut to pieces without quarter;
and that nothing would save us but an immediate and general
capitulation of Canada, giving it up to the English.'"[786] Yet
the river was wide and deep, and the hornwork was protected
on the water side by strong palisades, with cannon. Nevertheless
there rose a general cry to cut the bridge of boats. By
doing so more than half the army, who had not yet crossed,
would have been sacrificed. The axemen were already at work,
when they were stopped by some officers who had not lost
their wits.
[Footnote 786: Confirmed by _Journal tenu à l'Armée,_ etc. "Divers
officiers des troupes de terre n'hésitèrent point à dire, tout haut
en présence du soldat, qu'il ne nous restoit d'autre ressource que
celle de capituler promptement pour toute la colonie," etc.]
"M. de Vaudreuil," pursues Johnstone, "was closeted in a
house in the inside of the hornwork with the Intendant and
some other persons. I suspected they were busy drafting the
articles for a general capitulation, and I entered the house,
where I had only time to see the Intendant, with a pen in his
hand, writing upon a sheet of paper, when M. de Vaudreuil
told me I had no business there. Having answered him that
what he had said was true, I retired immediately, in wrath
to see them intent on giving up so scandalously a dependency
for the preservation of which so much blood and treasure had
been expended." On going out he met Lieutenant-colonels
Dalquier and Poulariez, whom he begged to prevent the apprehended
disgrace; and, in fact, if Vaudreuil really meant to capitulate for
the colony, he was presently dissuaded by firmer spirits than his own.
Johnstone, whose horse could carry him no farther, set out
on foot for Beauport, and, in his own words, "continued
sorrowfully jogging on, with a very heavy heart for the loss
of my dear friend M. de Montcalm, sinking with weariness,
and lost in reflection upon the changes which Providence had
brought about in the space of three or four hours."
Great indeed were these changes. Montcalm was dying;
his second in command, the Brigadier Senezergues, was
mortally wounded; the army, routed and demoralized, was
virtually without a head; and the colony, yesterday cheered as
on the eve of deliverance, was plunged into sudden despair.
"Ah, what a cruel day!" cries Bougainville; "how fatal to all
that was dearest to us! My heart is torn in its most tender
parts. We shall be fortunate if the approach of winter saves
the country from total ruin."[787]
[Footnote 787: _Bougainville à Bourlamaque, 18 Sept. 1759_.]
The victors were fortifying themselves on the field of battle.
Like the French, they had lost two generals; for Monckton,
second in rank, was disabled by a musket-shot, and the command
had fallen upon Townshend at the moment when the enemy were in full
flight. He had recalled the pursuers, and formed them again in line
of battle, knowing that another foe was at hand. Bougainville, in
fact, appeared at noon from Cap-Rouge with about two thousand men;
but withdrew on seeing double that force prepared to receive him.
He had not heard till eight o'clock that the English were on the
Plains of Abraham; and the delay of his arrival was no doubt
due to his endeavors to collect as many as possible of his
detachments posted along the St. Lawrence for many miles
towards Jacques-Cartier.
Before midnight the English had made good progress in
their redoubts and intrenchments, had brought cannon up
the heights to defend them, planted a battery on the Côte
Ste.-Geneviève, descended into the meadows of the St. Charles,
and taken possession of the General Hospital, with its crowds
of sick and wounded. Their victory had cost them six hundred
and sixty-four of all ranks, killed, wounded, and missing. The
French loss is placed by Vaudreuil at about six hundred and forty,
and by the English official reports at about fifteen hundred.
Measured by the numbers engaged, the battle of Quebec was but a
heavy skirmish; measured by results, it was one of the great battles
of the world.
Vaudreuil went from the hornwork to his quarters on the
Beauport road and called a council of war. It was a tumultuous
scene. A letter was despatched to Quebec to ask for advice of Montcalm.
The dying General sent a brief message to the effect that there was a
threefold choice,--to fight again, retreat to Jacques-Cartier, or give
up the colony. There was much in favor of fighting. When Bougainville
had gathered all his force from the river above, he would have three
thousand men; and these, joined to the garrison of Quebec, the
sailors at the batteries, and the militia and artillerymen of the
Beauport camp, would form a body of fresh soldiers more
than equal to the English then on the Plains of Abraham.
Add to these the defeated troops, and the victors would be
greatly outnumbered.[788] Bigot gave his voice for fighting. Vaudreuil
expressed himself to the same effect; but he says that all
the officers were against him. "In vain I remarked to these
gentlemen that we were superior to the enemy, and should
beat them if we managed well. I could not at all change their
opinion, and my love for the service and for the colony made
me subscribe to the views of the council. In fact, if I had
attacked the English against the advice of all the principal
officers, their ill-will would have exposed me to the risk of
losing the battle and the colony also."[789]
[Footnote 788: Bigot, as well as Vaudreuil, sets Bougainville's force
at three thousand. "En réunissant le corps M. de Bougainville, les
bataillons de Montréal _[laissés au camp de Beauport]_ et la garrison
de la ville, il nous restoit encore près de 5,000 hommes de troupes
fraîches." _Journal tenu à l'Armée._ Vaudreuil says that there were
fifteen hundred men in garrison at Quebec who did not take part
in the battle. If this is correct, the number of fresh troops after
it was not five thousand, but more than six thousand; to whom
the defeated force is to be added, making, after deducting killed
and wounded, some ten thousand in all.]
[Footnote 789: _Vaudreuil au Ministre, 5 Oct._ 1759.]
It was said at the time that the officers voted for retreat
because they thought Vaudreuil unfit to command an army,
and, still more, to fight a battle.[790] There was no need, however,
to fight at once. The object of the English was to take
Quebec, and that of Vaudreuil should have been to keep it.
By a march of a few miles he could have joined Bougainville;
and by then intrenching himself at or near Ste.-Foy he would
have placed a greatly superior force in the English rear, where
his position might have been made impregnable. Here he might be
easily furnished with provisions, and from hence he could readily
throw men and supplies into Quebec, which the English were too few
to invest. He could harass the besiegers, or attack them, should
opportunity offer, and either raise the siege or so protract it
that they would be forced by approaching winter to sail homeward,
robbed of the fruit of their victory.
[Footnote 790: _Memoires sur le Canada,_ 1749-1760.]
At least he might have taken a night for reflection. He was
safe behind the St. Charles. The English, spent by fighting,
toil, and want of sleep, were in no condition to disturb him.
A part of his own men were in deadly need of rest; the night
would have brought refreshment, and the morning might have brought
wise counsel. Vaudreuil would not wait, and orders were given at
once for retreat.[791] It began at nine o'clock that evening. Quebec
was abandoned to its fate. The cannon were left in the lines of
Beauport, the tents in the encampments, and provisions enough in
the storehouses to supply the army for a week. "The loss of the
Marquis de Montcalm," says a French officer then on the spot, "robbed
his successors of their senses, and they thought of nothing but flight;
such was their fear that the enemy would attack the intrenchments
the next day. The army abandoned the camp in such disorder
that the like was never known."[792] "It was not a retreat," says
Johnstone, who himself a part of it, "but an abominable
flight, with such disorder and confusion that, had the English
known it, three hundred men sent after us would have been
sufficient to cut all our army to pieces. The soldiers were all
mixed, and scattered, dispersed, and running as hard as they
could, as if the English army were at their heels." They
passed Charlesbourg, Lorette, and St. Augustin, till, on the
fifteenth, they found rest on the impregnable hill of Jacques-Cartier,
by the brink of the St. Lawrence, thirty miles from danger.
[Footnote 791: _Livre d'Ordres, Ordre du 13 Sept_. 1759.]
[Footnote 792: Foligny, _Journal mémoratif._]
In the night of humiliation when Vaudreuil abandoned
Quebec, Montcalm was breathing his last within its walls.
When he was brought wounded from the field, he was placed
in the house of the Surgeon Arnoux, who was then with Bourlamaque
at Isle-aux-Noix, but whose younger brother, also a surgeon,
examined the wound and pronounced it mortal. "I am glad of it,"
Montcalm said quietly; and then asked how long he had to live.
"Twelve hours, more or less," was the reply. "So much the better,"
he returned. "I am happy that I shall not live to see the surrender
of Quebec." He is reported to have said that since he had lost the battle
it consoled him to have been defeated by so brave an enemy;
and some of his last words were in praise of his successor,
Lévis, for whose talents and fitness for command he expressed
high esteem. When Vaudreuil sent to ask his opinion, he gave
it; but when Ramesay, commandant of the garrison, came to
receive his orders, he replied: "I will neither give orders nor
interfere any further. I have much business that must be
attended to, of greater moment than your ruined garrison
and this wretched country. My time is very short; therefore
pray leave me. I wish you all comfort, and to be happily extricated
from your present perplexities." Nevertheless he thought to the last
of those who had been under his command, and sent the following note
to Brigadier Townshend: "Monsieur, the humanity of the English sets
my mind at peace concerning the fate of the French prisoners and the
Canadians. Feel towards them as they have caused me to feel. Do not
let them perceive that they have changed masters. Be their protector
as I have been their father."[793]
[Footnote 793: I am indebted to Abbé Bois for a copy of this note. The
last words of Montcalm, as above, are reported partly by Johnstone,
and partly by Knox.]
Bishop Pontbriand, himself fast sinking with mortal disease,
attended his deathbed and administered the last sacraments.
He died peacefully at four o'clock on the morning of the
fourteenth. He was in his forty-eighth year.
In the confusion of the time no workman could be found
to make a coffin, and an old servant of the Ursulines, known
as Bonhomme Michel, gathered a few boards and nailed them together
so as to form a rough box. In it was laid the body of the dead
soldier; and late in the evening of the same day he was carried
to his rest. There was no tolling of bells or firing of cannon.
The officers of the garrison followed the bier, and some of the
populace, including women and children, joined the procession as
it moved in dreary silence along the dusky street, shattered with
cannon-ball and bomb, to the chapel of the Ursuline convent. Here
a shell, bursting under the floor, had made a cavity which had been
hollowed into a grave. Three priests of the Cathedral, several nuns,
Ramesay with his officers, and a throng of townspeople were
present at the rite. After the service and the chant, the
body was lowered into the grave by the light of torches; and
then, says the chronicle, "the tears and sobs burst forth. It
seemed as if the last hope of the colony were buried with the
remains of the General."[794] In truth, the funeral of Montcalm
was the funeral of New France.[795]
[Footnote 794: _Ursulines de Québec,_ III. 10.]
[Footnote 795: See Appendix J.]
It was no time for grief. The demands of the hour were
too exigent and stern. When, on the morning after the battle,
the people of Quebec saw the tents standing in the camp of
Beauport, they thought the army still there to defend them.[796]
Ramesay knew that the hope was vain. On the evening before,
Vaudreuil had sent two hasty notes to tell him of his flight.
"The position of the enemy," wrote the Governor, "becomes stronger
every instant; and this, with other reasons, obliges me to retreat."
"I have received all your letters. As I set out this moment, I pray
you not to write again. You shall hear from me to-morrow. I wish
you good evening." With these notes came the following order:
"M. de Ramesay is not to wait till the enemy carries the town by
assault. As soon as provisions fail, he will raise the white flag."
This order was accompanied by a memorandum of terms which Ramesay
was to ask of the victors.[797]
[Footnote 796: _Mémoire du Sieur de Ramesay._]
[Footnote 797: _Mémoire pour servir d'Instruction à M. de Ramesay, 13 Sept.
_ 1759. Appended, with the foregoing notes, to the _Mémoire de
Ramesay._]
"What a blow for me," says the unfortunate commandant,
"to find myself abandoned so soon by the army, which alone
could defend the town!" His garrison consisted of between
one and two hundred troops of the line, some four or five
hundred colony troops, a considerable number of sailors, and
the local militia.[798] These last were in a state of despair. The
inhabitants who, during the siege, had sought refuge in the
suburb of St. Roch, had returned after the battle, and there
were now twenty-six hundred women and children, with about a
housand invalids and other non-combatants to be supported, though
the provisions in the town, even at half rations, would hardly last
a week. Ramesay had not been informed that a good supply was left in
the camps of Beauport; and when he heard at last that it was there,
and sent out parties to get it, they found that the Indians and the
famished country people had carried it off.
[Footnote 798: The English returns give a total of 615 French regulars in
the place besides sailors and militia.]
"Despondency," he says again, "was complete; discouragement
extreme and universal. Murmurs and complaints against the army that
had abandoned us rose to a general outcry. I could not prevent the
merchants, all of whom were officers of the town militia, from meeting
at the house of M. Daine, the mayor. There they declared for capitulating,
and presented me a petition to that effect, signed by M. Daine and
all the principal citizens."
Ramesay called a council of war. One officer alone, Piedmont,
captain of artillery, was for reducing the rations still
more, and holding out to the last. All the others gave their
voices for capitulation.[799] Ramesay might have yielded without
dishonor; but he still held out till an event fraught with
new hope took place at Jacques-Cartier.
[Footnote 799: _Copie du Conseil de Guerre term par M. de Ramesay à Québec,
15 Sept_. 1759.]
This event was the arrival of Lévis. On the afternoon of
the battle Vaudreuil took one rational step; he sent a courier
to Montreal to summon that able officer to his aid.[800] Lévis
set out at once, reached Jacques-Cartier, and found his worst
fears realized. "The great number of fugitives that I began
to meet at Three Rivers prepared me for the disorder in
which I found the army. I never in my life knew the like of
it. They left everything behind in the camp at Beauport; tents,
baggage, and kettles."
[Footnote 800: _Lévis à Bourlamaque, 15 Sept_. 1759. Lévis,
_Guerre du Canada._]
He spoke his mind freely; loudly blamed the retreat, and
urged Vaudreuil to march back with all speed to whence he
came.[801] The Governor, stiff at ordinary times, but pliant at
a crisis, welcomed the firmer mind that decided for him, consented
that the troops should return, and wrote afterwards in his despatch
to the Minister: "I was much charmed to find M. de Lévis disposed
to march with the army towards Quebec."[802]
[Footnote 801: _Bigot au Ministre, 15 Oct. 1759. Malartic à Bourlamaque, 28
Sept_. 1759.]
[Footnote 802: "Je fus bien charmé," etc. _Vaudreuil au Ministre, 5 Oct.
_ 1759.]
Lévis, on his part, wrote: "The condition in which I found
the army, bereft of everything, did not discourage me, because
M. de Vaudreuil told me that Quebec was not taken, and that he had
left there a sufficiently numerous garrison; I therefore resolved,
in order to repair the fault that had been committed, to engage
M. de Vaudreuil to march the army back to the relief of the place.
I represented to him that this was the only way to prevent the complete
defection of the Canadians and Indians; that our knowledge of the country
would enable us to approach very near the enemy, whom we
knew to be intrenching themselves on the heights of Quebec
and constructing batteries to breach the walls; that if we
found their army ill posted, we could attack them, or, at any
rate, could prolong the siege by throwing men and supplies
into the town; and that if we could not save it, we could
evacuate and burn it, so that the enemy could not possibly
winter there."[803]
[Footnote 803: _Lévis au Ministre, 10 Nov_. 1759.]
Lévis quickly made his presence felt in the military chaos
about him. Bigot bestirred himself with his usual vigor to collect
provisions; and before the next morning all was ready.[804]
Bougainville had taken no part in the retreat, but sturdily
held his ground at Cap-Rouge while the fugitive mob swept
by him. A hundred of the mounted Canadians who formed part of his
command were now sent to Quebec, each with a bag of biscuit across
his saddle. They were to circle round to the Beauport side, where
there was no enemy, and whence they could cross the St. Charles in
canoes to the town. Bougainville followed close with a larger supply.
Vaudreuil sent Ramesay a message, revoking his order to surrender if
threatened with assault, telling him to hold out to the last, and
assuring him that the whole army was coming to his relief.
Lévis hastened to be gone; but first he found time to write a
few lines to Bourlamaque. "We have had a very great loss,
for we have lost M. de Montcalm. I regret him as my general
and my friend. I found our army here. It is now on the march to
retrieve our fortunes. I can trust you to hold your position; as I
have not M. de Montcalm's talents, I look to you to second me and
advise me. Put a good face on it. Hide this business as long as you
can. I am mounting my horse this moment. Write me all the news."[805]
[Footnote 804: _Livre d'Ordres, Ordre du 17-18 Sept_. 1759.]
[Footnote 805: _Lévis a Bourlamaque, 18 Sept_. 1759.]
The army marched that morning, the eighteenth. In the
evening it reached St. Augustin; and here it was stopped by
the chilling news that Quebec had surrendered. Utter confusion had
reigned in the disheartened garrison. Men deserted hourly, some to
the country, and some to the English camp; while Townshend pushed
his trenches nearer and nearer to the walls, in spite of the cannonade
with which Piedmont and his artillerymen tried to check them. On the
evening of the seventeenth, the English ships of war moved
towards the Lower Town, and a column of troops was seen
approaching over the meadows of the St. Charles, as if to
storm the Palace Gate. The drums beat the alarm; but the
militia refused to fight. Their officers came to Ramesay in
a body; declared that they had no mind to sustain an assault;
that they knew he had orders against it; that they would carry
their guns back to the arsenal; that they were no longer
soldiers, but citizens; that if the army had not abandoned
them they would fight with as much spirit as ever; but that
they would not get themselves killed to no purpose. The town-major,
Joannès, in a rage, beat two of them with the flat of his sword.
The white flag was raised; Joannès pulled it down, thinking,
or pretending to think, that it was raised without authority;
but Ramesay presently ordered him to go to the English camp and
get what terms he could. He went, through driving rain, to the
quarters of Townshend, and, in hope of the promised succor, spun
out the negotiation to the utmost, pretended that he had no power
to yield certain points demanded, and was at last sent back to confer
with Ramesay, under a promise from the English commander that, if Quebec
were not given up before eleven o'clock, he would take it by
storm. On this Ramesay signed the articles, and Joannes
carried them back within the time prescribed. Scarcely had
he left the town, when the Canadian horsemen appeared with
their sacks of biscuit and a renewed assurance that help was
near; but it was too late. Ramesay had surrendered, and
would not break his word. He dreaded an assault, which he
knew he could not withstand, and he but half believed in the
promised succor. "How could I trust it"? he asks. "The army
had not dared to face the enemy before he had fortified himself;
and could I hope that it would come to attack him in an intrenched
camp, defended by a formidable artillery?" Whatever may be thought
of his conduct, it was to Vaudreuil, and not to him, that the loss
of Quebec was due.
The conditions granted were favorable, for Townshend
knew the danger of his position, and was glad to have Quebec
on any terms. The troops and sailors of the garrison were
to march out of the place with the honors of war, and to be
carried to France. The inhabitants were to have protection
in person and property, and free exercise of religion.[806]
[Footnote 806: _Articles de Capitulation, 18 Sept_. 1759.]
In the afternoon a company of artillerymen with a field-piece
entered the town, and marched to the place of arms, followed by a
body of infantry. Detachments took post at all the gates. The
British flag was raised on the heights near the top of Mountain
Street, and the capital of New France passed into the hands of its
hereditary foes. The question remained, should they keep, or destroy
it? It was resolved to keep it at every risk. The marines, the
grenadiers from Louisbourg, and some of the rangers were to reimbark
in the fleet; while the ten battalions, with the artillery and one company
of rangers, were to remain behind, bide the Canadian winter,
and defend the ruins of Quebec against the efforts of Lévis.
Monckton, the oldest brigadier, was disabled by his wound,
and could not stay; while Townshend returned home, to parade his laurels
and claim more than his share of the honors of victory.[807] The command,
therefore, rested with Murray.
[Footnote 807: _Letter to an Honourable Brigadier-General_ [Townshend],
printed in 1760. A _Refutation_ soon after appeared, angry, but
not conclusive. Other replies will be found in the _Imperial Magazine
_for 1760.]
The troops were not idle. Levelling their own field-works,
repairing the defences of the town, storing provisions sent
ashore from the fleet, making fascines, and cutting firewood,
busied them through the autumn days bright with sunshine,
or dark and chill with premonition of the bitter months to
come. Admiral Saunders put off his departure longer than he
had once thought possible; and it was past the middle of
October when he fired a parting salute, and sailed down the
river with his fleet. In it was the ship "Royal William," carrying
the embalmed remains of Wolfe.
Montcalm lay in his soldier's grave before the humble
altar of the Ursulines, never more to see the home for which
he yearned, the wife, mother, and children whom he loved,
the olive-trees and chestnut-groves of his beloved Candiac.
He slept in peace among triumphant enemies, who respected
his memory, though they hardly knew his resting-place. It
was left for a fellow-countryman--a colleague and a brother-in-arms--to
belittle his achievements and blacken his name. The jealous spite
of Vaudreuil pursued him even in death. Leaving Lévis to command
at Jacques-Cartier, whither the army had again withdrawn, the
Governor retired to Montreal, whence he wrote a series of despatches
to justify himself at the expense of others, and above all of the
slain general, against whom his accusations were never so bitter as now,
when the lips were cold that could have answered them. First,
he threw on Ramesay all the blame of the surrender of Quebec. Then
he addressed himself to his chief task, the defamation of his unconscious
rival. "The letter that you wrote in cipher, on the tenth of February,
to Monsieur the Marquis of Montcalm and me, in common,[808] flattered his
self-love to such a degree that, far from seeking conciliation,
he did nothing but try to persuade the public that his authority
surpassed mine. From the moment of Monsieur de Montcalm's arrival in this
colony, down to that of his death, he did not cease to sacrifice everything
to his boundless ambition. He sowed dissension among the troops, tolerated
the most indecent talk against the government, attached to himself
the most disreputable persons, used means to corrupt the
most virtuous, and, when he could not succeed, became their
cruel enemy. He wanted to be Governor-General. He privately
flattered with favors and promises of patronage every officer of the
colony troops who adopted his ideas. He spared no pains to gain over
the people of whatever calling, and persuade them of his attachment;
while, either by himself or by means of the troops of the line, he
made them bear the most frightful yoke _(le joug le plus affreux)._
He defamed honest people, encouraged insubordination, and closed his
eyes to the rapine of his soldiers."
[Footnote 808: See _Supra_, p. 462.]
This letter was written to Vaudreuil's official superior and
confidant, the Minister of the Marine and Colonies. In another
letter, written about the same time to the Minister of War, who held
similar relations to his rival, he declares that he "greatly regretted
Monsieur de Montcalm."[809]
[Footnote 809: _Vaudreuil au Ministre de la Guerre, 1 Nov_. 1759.]
His charges are strange ones from a man who was by turns
the patron, advocate, and tool of the official villains who
cheated the King and plundered the people. Bigot, Cadet, and
the rest of the harpies that preyed on Canada looked to Vaudreuil
for support, and found it. It was but three or four weeks since he
had written to the Court in high eulogy of Bigot and effusive praise
of Cadet, coupled with the request that a patent of nobility should
be given to that notorious public thief.[810] The corruptions which
disgraced his government were rife, not only in the civil
administration, but also among the officers of the colony troops,
over whom he had complete control. They did not, as has been seen
already, extend to the officers of the line, who were outside the circle
of peculation. It was these who were the habitual associates
of Montcalm; and when Vaudreuil charges him with "attaching
to himself the most disreputable persons, and using means
to corrupt the most virtuous," the true interpretation of his
words is that the former were disreputable because they disliked
him (the Governor), and the latter virtuous because they were his
partisans.
[Footnote 810: See _Supra_, p. 374.]
Vaudreuil continues thus: "I am in despair, Monseigneur,
to be under the necessity of painting you such a portrait after
death of Monsieur the Marquis of Montcalm. Though it contains
the exact truth, I would have deferred it if his personal
hatred to me were alone to be considered; but I feel too
deeply the loss of the colony to hide from you the cause of
it. I can assure you that if I had been the sole master, Quebec
would still belong to the King, and that nothing is so disadvantageous
in a colony as a division of authority and the mingling of troops
of the line with marine _[colony]_ troops. Thoroughly knowing
Monsieur de Montcalm, I did not doubt in the least that unless I
condescended to all his wishes, he would succeed in ruining Canada
and wrecking all my plans."
He then charges the dead man with losing the battle of
Quebec by attacking before he, the Governor, arrived to take
command; and this, he says, was due to Montcalm's absolute
determination to exercise independent authority, without
caring whether the colony was saved or lost. "I cannot hide
from you, Monseigneur, that if he had had his way in past
years Oswego and Fort George _[William Henry]_ would never
have been attacked or taken; and he owed the success at Ticonderoga
to the orders I had given him."[811] Montcalm, on the other hand,
declared at the time that Vaudreuil had ordered him not to risk a
battle, and that it was only through his disobedience that
Ticonderoga was saved.
[Footnote 811: _Vaudreuil au Ministre de la Marine,_ 30 _Oct. 1759._]
Ten days later Vaudreuil wrote again: "I have already had
the honor, by my letter written in cipher on the thirteenth of
last month, to give you a sketch of the character of Monsieur
the Marquis of Montcalm; but I have just been informed of
a stroke so black that I think, Monseigneur, that I should
fail in my duty to you if I did not tell you of it." He goes
on to say that, a little before his death, and "no doubt in
fear of the fate that befell him," Montcalm placed in the
hands of Father Roubaud, missionary at St. Francis, two
packets of papers containing remarks on the administration
of the colony, and especially on the manner in which the
military posts were furnished with supplies; that these observations
were accompanied by certificates; and that they involved
charges against him, the Governor, of complicity inpeculation.
Roubaud, he continues, was to send these papersto France; "but now,
Monseigneur, that you are informed about them, I feel no anxiety,
and I am sure that the King will receive no impression from them
without acquainting himself with their truth or falsity."
Vaudreuil's anxiety was natural; and so was the action of
Montcalm in making known to the Court the outrageous abuses that
threatened the King's service with ruin. His doing so was necessary
both for his own justification and for the public good; and afterwards,
when Vaudreuil and others were brought to trial at Paris, and when
one of the counselfor the defence charged the late general with
slanderously accusing his clients, the Court ordered the charge to
be struck from the record.[812] The papers the existence of which, if they
did exist, so terrified Vaudreuil, have thus far escaped research.
But the correspondence of the two rivals with the chiefs of the
departments on which they severally depended is in large measure
preserved; and while that of the Governor is filled with defamation
of Montcalm and praise of himself, that of the General is neither
egotistic nor abusive. The faults of Montcalm have sufficiently appeared.
They were those of an impetuous, excitable, and impatient nature, by
no means free from either ambition or vanity; but they were
never inconsistent with the character of a man of honor. His
impulsive utterances, reported by retainers and sycophants,
kept Vaudreuil in a state of chronic rage; and, void as he
was of all magnanimity, gnawed with undying jealousy, and
mortally in dread of being compromised by the knaveries to
which he had lent his countenance, he could not contain
himself within the bounds of decency or sense. In another
letter he had the baseness to say that Montcalm met his death
in trying to escape from the English.
[Footnote 812: _Procès de Bigot, Cadet, et autres._]
Among the Governor's charges are some which cannot be
flatly denied. When he accuses his rival of haste and precipitation
in attacking the English army, he touches a fair subject
of criticism; but, as a whole, he is as false in his detraction
of Montcalm as in his praises of Bigot and Cadet.
The letter which Wolfe sent to Pitt a few days before his
death, written in what may be called a spirit of resolute
despair, and representing success as almost hopeless, filled
England with a dejection that found utterance in loud grumblings
against the Ministry. Horace Walpole wrote the bad news to his friend
Mann, ambassador at Florence: "Two days ago came letters from Wolfe,
despairing as much as heroes can despair. Quebec is well victualled,
Amherst is not arrived, and fifteen thousand men are encamped to defend
it. We have lost many men by the enemy, and some by our
friends; that is, we now call our nine thousand only seven
thousand. How this little army will get away from a much
larger, and in this season, in that country, I don't guess: yes,
I do."
Hardly were these lines written when tidings came that
Montcalm was defeated, Quebec taken, and Wolfe killed. A
flood of mixed emotions swept over England. Even Walpole
grew half serious as he sent a packet of newspapers to his
friend the ambassador. "You may now give yourself what airs you please.
An ambassador is the only man in the world whom bullying becomes.
All precedents are on your side: Persians, Greeks, Romans, always
insulted their neighbors when they took Quebec. Think how pert the
French would have been on such an occasion! What a scene! An army in
the night dragging itself up a precipice by stumps of trees
to assault a town and attack an enemy strongly intrenched
and double in numbers! The King is overwhelmed with addresses
on our victories; he will have enough to paper his palace."[813]
[Footnote 813: _Letters of Horace Walpole_, III. 254, 257 (ed. Cunningham
1857).]
When, in soberer mood, he wrote the annals of his time,
and turned, not for the better, from the epistolary style to
the historical, he thus described the impression made on the
English public by the touching and inspiring story of Wolfe's
heroism and death: "The incidents of dramatic fiction could
not be conducted with more address to lead an audience from
despondency to sudden exaltation than accident prepared to
excite the passions of a whole people. They despaired, they
triumphed, and they wept; for Wolfe had fallen in the hour
of victory. Joy, curiosity, astonishment, was painted on every
countenance. The more they inquired, the more their admiration
rose. Not an incident but was heroic and affecting."[814]
England blazed with bonfires. In one spot alone all was dark and
silent; for here a widowed mother mourned for a loving and devoted
son, and the people forbore to profane her grief with the clamor
of their rejoicings.
[Footnote 814: Walpole, _Memoirs of George II._, II. 384.]
New England had still more cause of joy than Old, and
she filled the land with jubilation. The pulpits resounded with
sermons of thanksgiving, some of which were worthy of the
occasion that called them forth. Among the rest, Jonathan
Mayhew, a young but justly celebrated minister of Boston,
pictured with enthusiasm the future greatness of the British-American
colonies, with the continent thrown open before them, and foretold that,
"with the continued blessing of Heaven, they will become, in another
century or two, a mighty empire;" adding in cautious parenthesis,
"_I do not mean an independent one_." He read Wolfe's victory aright,
and divined its far-reaching consequence.
NOTE: The authorities of this chapter are, in the main, the
same as those of the preceding, with some additions, the principal
of which is the _Mémoire du Sieur de Ramezay, Chevalier de
l'Ordre royal et militaire de St.-Louis, cy-devant Lieutenant pour
le Roy commandant à Québec, au sujet de la Reddition de cette
Ville, qui a été suivie de la Capitulation du 18 7bre 1759_ (Archives
de la Marine). To this document are appended a number of important
"pièces justificatives." These, with the _Mémoire_, have been
printed by the Quebec Historical Society. The letters of Vaudreuil
cited in this chapter are chiefly from the Archives Nationales.
If Montcalm, as Vaudreuil says, really intrusted papers to the
care of the Jesuit missionary Roubaud, he was not fortunate in
his choice of a depositary. After the war Roubaud renounced his
Order, adjured his faith, and went over to the English. He gave
various and contradictory accounts of the documents said to be
in his hands. On one occasion he declared that Montcalm's effects
left with him at his mission of St. Francis had been burned to
prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy (see Verreau,
_Report on Canadian Archives_, 1874, p. 183). Again, he says that
he had placed in the hands of the King of England certain letters
of Montcalm (see _Mr. Roubaud's Deplorable Case, humbly submitted
to Lord North's Consideration_, in _Historical Magazine_,
Second Series, VIII. 283). Yet again, he speaks of these same
letters as "pretended" (Verreau, _as above_). He complains that
some of them had been published, without his consent, "by a
Lord belonging to His Majesty's household" (_Mr. Roubaud's
Deplorable Case_).
The allusion here is evidently to a pamphlet printed in London,
in 1777, in French and English, and entitled, _Lettres de Monsieur
le Marquis de Montcalm, Gouverneur-Général en Canada, à
Messieurs de Berryer et de la Molé, écrites dans les Années 1757,
1758, et 1759, avec une Version Angloise_. They profess to be
observations by Montcalm on the English colonies, their political
character, their trade, and their tendency to independence. They
bear the strongest marks of being fabricated to suit the times,
the colonies being then in revolt. The principal letter is one
addressed to Molé, and bearing date Quebec, Aug. 24, 1759. It
foretells the loss of her colonies as a consequence to England
of her probable conquest of Canada. I laid before the Massachusetts
Historical Society my reasons for believing this letter, like
the rest, an imposture (see the _Proceedings_ of that Society for
1869-1870, pp. 112-128). To these reasons it may be added that
at the date assigned to the letter all correspondence was stopped
between Canada and France. From the arrival of the English fleet,
at the end of spring, till its departure, late in autumn, communication
was completely cut off. It was not till towards the end of
November, when the river was clear of English ships, that the
naval commander Kanon ran by the batteries of Quebec and
carried to France the first news from Canada. Some of the letters
thus sent were dated a month before, and had waited in Canada
till Kanon's departure.
Abbé Verreau--a high authority on questions of Canadian history--tells
me a comparison of the handwriting has convinced him that these pretended
letters of Montcalm are the work of Roubaud.
On the burial of Montcalm, see Appendix J.