"Do not leave Gabarus Bay until I have effected a landing!"
So spoke Admiral Boscawen; and when the word was known, a cheer ran
through the squadron from end to end.
Brigadier Wolfe had struggled up upon deck, looking white and
ghostlike, for he had suffered much during the voyage; but when
that word reached him, the fire leaped into his eyes, and he turned
an exultant look upon his friends, and exclaimed:
"That is an excellent good word; that is the spirit which inspires
victory!"
Yet it was no light thing which was to be attempted, as no one knew
better than Wolfe himself; for he had been out in a boat upon the
previous day with Major General Amherst and his comrade Brigadier
Lawrence, reconnoitring the shore all along the bay, and they had
seen how strongly it was commanded by French batteries, and how
difficult it would be to land any body of troops there.
To their right, as they looked shorewards, stood the town and grim
fortress of Louisbourg, boldly and commandingly placed upon the
rocky promontory which protects one side of the harbour, running
out, as it were, to meet another promontory, the extremity of which
is called Lighthouse Point. These two promontories almost enclose
the harbour of Louisbourg; and midway between them is Goat Island,
upon which, in the days of warfare of which we are telling, a
strong battery was placed, so that no enemy's ship could enter the
harbour without being subjected to a murderous crossfire, enough to
disable and sink it.
Within the harbour were a number of French ships, which, in spite
of a feeble attempt at blockade earlier in the year by some English
and American vessels, had succeeded in making their way thither
with an ample supply of provisions for the garrison.
To force an entrance into the harbour was manifestly impossible at
the present juncture of affairs. The only hope lay in effecting a
landing in the larger bay outside, where lay the English fleet; and
the shore had been reconnoitred the previous day with a view of
ascertaining the chances of this.
The report had not been encouraging. The French batteries were well
placed, and were well furnished with cannon. It would be difficult
enough to land. It would be yet more difficult to approach the
citadel itself; but the experienced eyes of Wolfe and others saw
that the only hope lay in an attack from the landward side. The
dangerous craggy shore was its best protection. On land there were
ridges of high ground from which it might be stormed, if only guns
could be carried up. That would be a task of no small danger and
difficulty; but courage and resolution might win the day; and
Amherst was a commander of a different stamp from the hesitating
Abercromby, who was at that very time mustering his troops with a
view to the attack upon Ticonderoga.
"It is a fine fortress," said Wolfe to Julian, as they stood
surveying the place from the raised deck of the vessel. "You cannot
see much from here; the distance is too great. But they have
batteries well posted on every height all along the bay; and as for
the fortress and citadel, I have seldom seen such workmanship. Its
bastions, ramparts, and glacis are a marvel of engineering. It may
well be called the Dunkirk of the Western world. It will be a hard
nut to crack; but I never believe there is a fortress which English
valour cannot suffice to take!"
The resolution to land the troops once made, arrangements were
speedily set in order. There were three places along the bay where
it might he possible to effect a landing--White Point, Flat Point,
and Freshwater Cove--all on the west of the town. To the east there
was an inlet where it might be possible to land troops, though
perilously near the guns of the citadel. It was resolved to make a
feint here, and to send parties to each of the three other points,
so as to divide and distract the attention of the enemy. Wolfe was
to take command of the landing at Freshwater Cove, which was the
spot where Amherst most desired to make his first stand, and here
the most determined attempt was to be made. The Commander came and
conferred with his Brigadier as to the best method of procedure,
and left him full powers of command when the moment should come.
Julian and Humphrey were with Wolfe, and had been his companions
and best friends upon the voyage out. They had both obtained
commissions, partly through the influence of the Brigadier; and
were eager to see warfare. Julian had been Wolfe's nurse and
attendant during the voyage, and the bond which now united them was
a strong and tender one. Wolfe bad suffered both from seasickness
and from a renewal of the former strain, and looked even now but
little fit for the enterprise upon which he was bound; but no
physical weakness had ever yet hindered him in the moment of peril
from doing his duty, and his eyes flashed with the old fire, as he
spoke of what was about to take place.
"Let us but once gain possession of that battery," he cried,
pointing to the guns frowning grimly over Freshwater Cove, "and
turn the guns against their present masters, and we shall have
taken the first step. Once let us get foot upon this shore, and it
will take more than the cannonade of the Frenchmen to get us off
again."
Eagerly did the fleet await the moment of attack; but their
patience was rather severely tried. Gale first and then heavy fog,
with a tremendous swell at sea, detained them long at their
anchorage, and one good ship struck upon a rock, and was in
considerable danger for a while.
Wolfe suffered much during those days; but his spirit was as
unquenchable as ever, and as soon as the stormy sea had gone down a
little, was eager for the enterprise.
"Let us but set foot ashore, and I shall be a new man!" he cried.
"I weary of the everlasting heaving of the sea; but upon shore,
with my sword in my hand, there I am at home!"
The sea grew calm. There was still a heavy swell, and the waves
broke in snowy surf upon the beach; but the attempt had become
practicable, and the word was given overnight for a start at
daybreak. The men were told off into light boats, such as could be
taken close inshore; whilst the frigates were to approach the
various points of real or feigned attack, and open a heavy
cannonade upon the French batteries.
Julian and Humphrey found themselves in boats alongside each other.
Humphrey was an Ensign, whilst Julian had been made a Lieutenant.
They belonged to the flotilla commanded by Wolfe, and were
directing some of the boats which were upon the right extremity of
the little fleet.
The hearts of the men were beating high with excitement and the
anticipation of stern work before them. The guns looked grimly
forth from the heights above the shore. All was yet silent as
death; still it was impossible to think that the French were
ignorant of the concerted movement about to be made against them.
A roar from the shore, behind and to their right, told them that
already the battle had begun in other quarters. The sailors set
their teeth and rowed their hardest. The boats shot through the
great green waves.
Suddenly the smoke puffed out from the batteries in front. There
was a flash of fire, and in a few seconds a dull roar, with
strange, screaming noises interspersed. The water became lashed by
a storm of shot, and shrieks of human agony mingled with the noise
of the battle. It was a deadly fire which fell hot around the
devoted little fleet; but Humphrey and Julian, away to the right,
were a little out of range, and slightly protected by a craggy
ridge. No man of their company had been killed; but they saw that
along the line of boats terrible havoc was being wrought.
They saw Wolfe's tall, thin figure standing up and making signs. He
was waving his hand to them now, and Humphrey exclaimed in his keen
excitement:
"We are to land behind the crag and rush the guns!"
In a moment the half-dozen or more boats of this little detachment
were making for the shore as hard as the rowers' arms could take
them. It was hard work to land amongst the breakers, which were
dashing into snowy surf along the beach; but perhaps the surf hid
them from their enemies a little, for they were not hindered by any
storm of shot or shell. They landed on the beach, formed into a
compact body, and headed by Major Scott and some bold Highland
soldiers, they dashed up the slope towards the battery.
But now they were in the midst of a hail of bullets. It seemed to
Humphrey as though hell's mouth had opened. But there was no
thought of fear in his heart. The battle fury had come upon him. He
sprang within the battery and flung himself upon the gunners.
Others followed his example. There was a tremendous hand-to-hand
fight--French, Indians, English, Scotch, all in one struggling
melee; and then above the tumult Wolfe's clarion voice ringing out,
cheering on his men, uttering concise words of command; and then a
sense of release from the suffocating pressure, a consciousness
that the enemy was giving way, was flying, was abandoning the
position; a loud English cheer, and a yell from the Highlanders,
the sound of flying footsteps, pursuers and pursued; and Humphrey
found himself leaning against a gun, giddy and blind and
bewildered, scarcely knowing whether he were alive or dead, till a
hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a familiar voice said in his
ear:
"Well done, Ensign Angell. They tell me that we owe our victorious
rush today to your blunder!"
"My blunder?"
"Yes; you mistook my signal. I was ordering a retreat. It would not
have been possible to land the men under that deadly fire. I could
not see, from my position, the little shelter of the crag. I had
signalled to draw out of the range of the guns. But your mistake
has won us the day."
Humphrey, half ashamed, half exultant, was too breathless to reply;
Julian came hastening up; and Wolfe hurried away to see to the
landing of the guns and stores, now that the enemy had made a full
retreat upon the fortress.
"You are not wounded, Humphrey?"
"I think not. I have only had all the breath knocked out of me; and
the guns seem to stun one. Have they really left us in possession
of the battery? And does not Wolfe say that, when once we get a
footing on the shore, we will not leave till Louisbourg is ours?"
Triumph filled the hearts alike of soldiers and sailors. All day
long they worked waist deep in the surf, getting ashore such things
as were most needed, intrenching themselves behind the battery,
clearing the ground, making a road up from the beach, and pitching
their tents.
At. night a cheer went up from their weary throats, for they saw
red tongues of flame shooting up, and soon it was known beyond a
doubt that the French had fired one of their batteries, which they
had felt obliged to abandon; and this showed that they had no
intention of attacking the bold storming party which had
established itself at the Cove.
At sea the guns roared and flashed all day and all night. The air
was full of sounds of battle. But the wearied soldiers slept in
their tents, and by day worked might and main at the task of making
good their position. They extended the line of their camp, they
built redoubts and blockhouses, they routed skirmishing parties of
Indians and Acadians hiding in the woods and spying upon them, and
they strengthened their position day by day, till it became too
strong a one for the enemy to dare to approach.
Every day the men toiled at their task, cheered by items of news
from the shore. The battery on Goat Island was silenced, after many
days of hot fire from the English frigates. A French vessel had
fired in the harbour, and had been burned to the water's edge. The
garrison had sent a frigate with dispatches pressing for aid to
their governor in Canada. The frigate and dispatches fell into the
hands of the English, and much valuable information was gleaned
therefrom.
And day by day the camp stretched out in a semicircle behind the
town. It was a difficult task to construct it; for a marsh lay
before them, and the road could only be made at the cost of
tremendous labour, and often the fire of the enemy disturbed the
men at their work.
Wolfe was the life and soul of the camp all through this piece of
arduous work. If he could not handle pick and shovel like some, his
quick eye always saw the best course to pursue, and his keen
insight was invaluable in the direction of operations. Ill or well,
he was with and amongst his men every day and all day long, the
friend of each and every one, noticing each man's work, giving
praise to industry and skill, cheering, encouraging, inspiring. Not
a soldier but felt that the young officer was his personal friend;
not a man but would most willingly and gladly have borne for him
some of that physical suffering which at times was written all too
clearly in his wasted face.
"Nay, it is nothing," he would say to his companions, when they
strove to make him spare himself; "I am happier amongst you all. I
can always get through the day's work somehow. In my tent I brood
and rebel against this crazy carcass of mine; but out here, in the
stir and the strife, I can go nigh to forget it."
But Wolfe was soon to have a task set him quite to his liking. He
came to his quarters one day with eager, shining eyes; and so soon
as he saw him, Julian knew that he had news to tell.
"The batteries upon Lighthouse Point are next to be silenced. We
must gain the command of the harbour for our ships. If we can once
do that, the day will be ours. I am told off to this task, with
twelve hundred men. You and Humphrey are to go with me. We must
march right round the town, under cover of night, taking our guns
with us. By daybreak we will have them planted behind the French
battery; by night, if all goes well, we shall have gained
possession of it."
The troops were all drawn up in order for the night march, full of
hopeful anticipation. They had that kind of confidence in Wolfe
which the commander inspires who is not made but born. Humphrey,
whose skill in finding his way in the dark, and whose powers as a
guide had been tested before now, was sent on in advance with a
handful of men, to give warning of any impending peril to be passed
or encountered. He had the untiring energy of a son of the forest,
and the instinct which told him of the proximity of the foe before
he saw him.
But the march was uneventful in that way. The French had fallen
back upon the town. Their fears now were for the very fortress
itself, that fortress which they had so proudly boasted was
impregnable alike by land and sea! Before the dawn of the morning
Humphrey came back to the main body, seeking speech with Wolfe.
"They have abandoned their battery on Lighthouse Point. It is ours
without striking a blow. They have spiked their guns and gone! We
have only to take possession, mount our guns, and the command of
the harbour is ours!"
A shout of triumph went up from the men as this fact became known.
Gaily did they push on over the broken country, doing what they
could in passing to level the way for the transport of the cannon
in the rear. By dawn of day, they were full in sight of their
destination, and saw indeed that it was deserted, and only awaited
their taking possession. With shouts and cheers they dragged up
their guns and set them in position. They fired a salute to tell
their friends that all was well, and sent a few shots flying
amongst the French ships in the harbour, to the no small
consternation of the town.
But Wolfe could not be idle. The task set him had been accomplished
without his having to strike a blow.
"We must unite our line, and silence some of those batteries that
protect the town on the land side," he said to his men. "The guns
and the gunners, with a sufficient force for their protection, will
remain here. We have sterner work to do elsewhere; and whilst we
are pushing our lines nearer and nearer, I would I knew how they
are feeling within the walls of the town."
"Let me be the one to find that out and report," said Julian
eagerly.
"You, man! and how?"
"Let me try to make my way within the lines. We have French
prisoners; let me borrow the uniform of one. I can speak French as
easily as though it were my mother tongue, which, in sooth, perhaps
it is; for I might as well call myself French as English, although
I have always loved the English and cast in my lot with them. No
sentry can know the face of every soldier in the fortress. Let me
see if I cannot get within the walls, and bring you word again of
what is passing there!"
Wolfe stroked his face thoughtfully.
"It is a bold scheme, and I have a mind to take you at your word;
but I would not have you run into too great peril."
"I scarce think that I shall do so. I will have a care. In truth, I
should well enough like to see within those solid walls. It is a
wonderful fortress this. It might be good for us to know its
strength or its weakness, if weakness it has. I would but remain a
couple of nights, and then return and bring you word again."
"I should like to hear the report right well," answered Wolfe. "I
only wish I could accompany you myself."
"That would never do. Yours is too valuable a life to risk; mine is
worth but little to any man save myself."
"I fear rather that I should be but a clog upon your movements,"
answered Wolfe; "and no man would take me for a Frenchman, even
though I can speak the tongue indifferently well. Nor would Amherst
suffer me to make the attempt. We are all under obedience to our
superiors. But I will suffer you to go, if you think the risk not
too great. But have a care of yourself, Julian, have a care. You
have become a friend to me that I could ill spare. If aught of harm
befell you, the campaign would be clouded to me, even though
crowned with victory."
Julian pressed the hand he held, and for a moment there was silence
between the pair. Wolfe looked out before him, and said musingly:
"Does it never seem strange to you, Julian, the thought that our
trade is one which makes us look upon the slaughter of our foes as
the thing most to be desired, whilst we have that in our hearts
which causes us to hate the very thought of suffering and death,
either for ourselves or for others; and when we see our foes
wounded and left upon the field of battle, we give them the care
and tending that we give our own men, and seek in every way to
allay their pain and bring them help and comfort?"
"Yes, truly; war is full of strange paradoxes," answered Julian
thoughtfully. "Sometimes I think that war, like all other ills,
comes to us as a part of the curse which sin has brought into the
world. We cannot get away from it yet. There be times when it is
right to fight--when to sit with folded hands would be a grievous
and a cowardly action on the part of a nation. Yet we know that it
is God's will that we should love our brethren, and we know that He
loves all. So when we see them helpless and suffering, we know that
we are right to tend and care for them, and that to do otherwise
would be a sin in His sight. And we know, too, that the day will
come when wars will cease, when Christ will come and take the power
and rule, and when we shall see Him in His glory, and the kingdoms
of this world will become the kingdom of our God and of His
Christ."
Deep silence fell upon them both, and then Wolfe spoke gently.
"That would, indeed, be a glorious day! though I, a soldier trained
to arms, say it. But I fear me I shall never live to see it."
Julian was silent awhile, and then said slowly:
"We cannot tell. Of that day and hour knoweth no man. All we know
is that it will come, and will come suddenly. I have lived amongst
those who looked to see it from day to day. They had been waiting
and watching for the Lord's coming through hard upon a century,
they and their fathers before them. The hope was beginning to fade
and die out. Priests had come amongst them who bid them think of
other things, and look no farther than the sacrifice of the Mass,
daily offered before their eyes. And yet I used to feel that the
other was the fuller, more glorious hope. I think I shall cherish
it always."
"I would were I you," answered Wolfe in a low voice. "I think it is
that which has made you different from other men. I think that if I
were to be dying, Julian, I should like to hold your hand in mine
and feel that you were near."
Then the two friends pressed each other by the hand, and walked
back to the camp. As Julian had said, there were many French
prisoners there, brought in from time to time after skirmishes.
They were treated exactly the same as the English wounded, and
Wolfe made a point of visiting them daily, talking to them in their
own tongue, and promising them a speedy exchange when any
negotiation should be opened with the town. Julian, too, went much
amongst them, able to win their confidence very easily, since he
seemed to them almost like a brother. It was quite an easy thing
for him to disguise himself in the white uniform of a French
soldier, and to creep, under cover of the darkness, closer and
closer to the wall of the town.
It so chanced that he could not have chosen a better night for his
enterprise. The booming of guns across the harbour and from the
batteries behind had now become constant, and attracted little
notice from sentries or soldiers beyond range. But just as darkness
began to fall, a shell from Wolfe's newly-planted battery fell upon
one of the French ships in the harbour, and set her on fire. The
glare rose in the sky, and suddenly there was the sound of an
explosion, sparks rose in dense clouds into the air, and the ship
plunged like a wild creature in terror, broke from her moorings,
and drifted alongside a sister ship. The flames spread to her
rigging, and in a few minutes both were ablaze; and before the
affrighted and bewildered crews could do anything to prevent it, a
third vessel had become involved in the conflagration, and the town
was illumined by the pillars of flame which shot up from the still
waters of the harbour.
All was confusion and dismay, for the French had no ships to spare.
Four had been deliberately sunk in the harbour's mouth to prevent
the entrance of the English, and here were three all in a blaze.
The soldiers and inhabitants rushed madly down to the water's edge
to seek to stay the conflagration, and Julian, seizing his
opportunity, rushed through the gateway with a small detachment of
men from one of the outside batteries, and found himself within the
town without having been so much as challenged.
Down to the water's edge with the rest he rushed, shouting and
gesticulating with the best of them. His uniform prevented his
being even so much as looked at. To all appearance he was a French
soldier. He did not hesitate to mingle in the crowd, or avoid
conversation with any. Very soon he found he was working with the
rest in the hopeless endeavour to save the doomed vessels; and he
was helpful in getting off some of the half-stifled sailors,
dashing upon deck quite a number of times, and bringing back in his
strong arms the helpless men who had been overpowered by the flames
before they could make their escape.
It was work which Julian loved; for saving life was more to his
taste than killing. He toiled on, cheering up his comrades, till
all that could be saved were placed upon shore; and when he stepped
at last upon the quay after the last voyage to the burning ships,
he found himself confronted by a fine soldierly man, whose dress
and manner bespoke him a personage of some importance.
"Well done, my good fellow," he said approvingly; "I shall not
forget your gallantry tonight. You doubtless belong to one of the
vessels, since I have no knowledge of your face. You had better
come up to the citadel, where you shall receive refreshment and a
place to rest in. We want all the soldiers we can get for the
defence of the town, since we are in evil case between foes on land
and foes on the sea."
Julian saluted, and spoke a few words of thanks, and the crowd bore
him towards the citadel.
"Who was it that spoke to me?" he asked of his next neighbour; and
the man replied with a laugh:
"Why, Governor Drucour to be sure! Are you blind with the smoke, my
friend? A very gallant governor and soldier he is, as you should
know. And as for Madame, his wife--ah, well, you must see her to
understand!"
Nor was Julian long in understanding something of what was meant by
this unfinished sentence; for he and his companions had not been
long seated at table, with a good meal before them, when the door
opened, and a tall, elegant lady entered the room, leaning on the
arm of the Governor, and instantly the whole company rose, whilst a
shout went up:
"Long live the Governor! Long live Madame his wife! Long live the
King!"
The lady came in, and motioned to the company to be seated. She
walked up and down amongst them, speaking brave words of thanks and
cheer; and halting beside Julian, she made him quite a little
special speech, telling him how she had heard that he had been the
foremost of all in seeking to save the lives of those who might
otherwise have perished in the flames.
No questions were asked of him, for the excitement was still
strong, and it was taken for granted that he had come off one of
the burning ships. The men were all talking together, with the
volubility of their race, and Julian took just enough share in the
conversation to avoid suspicion.
Besides, why should he be suspected? He looked in every respect a
Frenchman. And had he not risked his life more than once that night
to save those left on board the vessels?
The next morning he was able to take an excellent view of the
citadel and town. He was amazed at the strength of the place. In
one sense of the word it was well nigh impregnable. From the water
it could scarcely be touched; but the ridges above, now in the
possession of the English, were a source of weakness and peril; and
now that the enemy was pushing nearer and nearer, under cover of
their own guns, it was plain that the position was becoming one of
grave peril. A very little more and the English would be able to
shell the whole town and fortress from the land side; and though
the soldiers within the citadel were full of hope and confidence,
the townsfolk were becoming more and more alarmed, and spoke openly
together of the probable fall of the place.
They told Julian much that he desired to know, as did also the
soldiers within the citadel. He was listening to them, when a
sudden cry reached them, and a cheer went up, mingled with cries of
"Vive Madame! vive Madame le General!"
Julian looked round, and saw that Madame Drucour had come out upon
the ramparts, and was preparing with her own hands to fire off one
of the great guns. This she did amid the applause of the soldiers,
and the man standing beside Julian said with enthusiasm:
"Madame comes here every day, no matter the weather or the firing,
and walks round the ramparts, and fires off one or more of the
guns, to keep us in heart. She is a brave lady. If all soldiers and
townsfolk had her spirit, there would be no talk of surrendering
Louisbourg."