[Sidenote: 1758.]
[Sidenote: Dec. 1.]
It was late in November before Parliament reassembled, and
listened to a speech from the throne, jubilant over the captures
of Louisburg, Fort Frontenac, and Senegal, but modestly deploring
the inevitable expense of the war. The Commons, however, were
practically unanimous in allowing a free hand to Pitt, though the
minister himself was startled when he was brought face to face with
the estimates. Those for the Army were introduced a week later,
and showed but a slight increase in the British Establishment,
the total number of men not exceeding eighty-five thousand. Yet
the main operations of the coming year were to be conducted on
a grander scale than before, while at the same time provision
was needed to make good the enormous waste caused by tropical
expeditions. Two new regiments only were formed before the actual
opening of the operations of 1759, one of them, Colonel Eyre
Coote's,[308] serving as a reminder that concurrently with all
other enterprises there was progressing the struggle, which shall
presently be narrated, for the mastery of the East Indies.
[Sidenote: 1759.]
Pitt's principal effort, as in the previous year, was directed
against Canada, and the operations prescribed were little less
complicated than those of the last campaign. In the first place a
direct attack was to be made upon Quebec, for which purpose Amherst
was to make over ten battalions to General Wolfe. In the second,
the attempt to penetrate into Canada by way of Ticonderoga and
Crown Point was to be renewed. Amherst himself was to take this
duty upon him, Abercromby having been rightly recalled; and it
was hoped that he might join Wolfe in the capital of Canada or at
least make a powerful diversion in his favour. At the same time
Amherst was ordered to secure Oswego and Pittsburg, and empowered
to undertake any further operations that he pleased, without
prejudice to the main objects of the campaign. The General having
already twenty-three battalions of the King's troops in America,
it was reckoned that, with the regiments to be forwarded to him
from the West Indies by Hopson, he would possess a sufficient force
for the work. No fresh battalions therefore were sent to him from
England.[309]
The selection of James Wolfe for the command of the expedition
against Quebec came as a surprise to many. He was now thirty-two
years of age, and had held a commission ever since he was
fourteen, attaining the rank of captain at seventeen and of major
at twenty. He had served in Flanders and distinguished himself
as brigade-major at Lauffeld, but it was as Lieutenant-Colonel
in command of the Twentieth Foot that he had shown himself most
competent. He was an admirable regimental officer, enthusiastic
over his profession and well acquainted with its duties, a stern
disciplinarian yet devoted to his men, and a refined and educated
gentleman. In short he was a commanding officer who could be
trusted to raise the tone of any corps.[310] He had attracted
Pitt's notice by his constant though fruitless advocacy of action
in the abortive descent on Rochefort in 1757, and had come
prominently before the public eye by his behaviour at Louisburg.
His relations with Amherst, however, appear not to have been
very friendly, nor to have been improved by his return home from
Cape Breton in 1758; indeed Wolfe was reprimanded as soon as he
arrived in England for returning without the King's orders, under
misconception of his letter of service.[311] It was possibly
under the sting of this censure that he wrote to Pitt declaring
his readiness to serve in America and "particularly in the river
St. Lawrence"; but be that as it may he received the appointment.
There is an anecdote that he filled the great minister with dismay
by some extraordinary gasconnade at a dinner to which he had been
invited shortly before his departure; but even if, in a moment of
elation,[312] he may have given way to excited talk for a time, yet
such outbursts were not usual with him, for he was the quietest
and most modest of men. The real objection to his appointment was
the state of his health. He had never been strong and was a martyr
to rheumatism and stone, but he was as courageous against pain
as against the bullets of the enemy; in fact, like King William
the Third, he was never so happy as when under fire. For the rest
nature had cursed him with a countenance of singular ugliness, his
portraits showing a profile that runs in a ridiculous curve from
the forehead to the tip of the nose, and recedes in as ridiculous
a curve from the nose to the neck. A shock of red hair tied in a
queue, and a tall, lank, ungainly figure added neither grace nor
beauty to his appearance; but within that unhandsome frame lay a
passionate attachment to the British soldier, and an indomitable
spirit against difficulty and danger.
[Sidenote: February.]
[Sidenote: May.]
It was the middle of February when Wolfe sailed from England in
H.M.S. _Neptune_, the flag-ship of a fleet of twenty-one sail
under Admirals Saunders, Holmes, and Durell. The voyage was long
and tedious, and when at last Louisburg was reached the harbour
was found to be blocked with ice, so that the fleet was obliged to
make for Halifax. From thence Durell was detached, too late as was
presently proved, to the mouth of the St. Lawrence to intercept
certain transports that were expected with supplies from France;
Holmes was sent to convoy the troops that were to sail from New
York; and in May the entire armament for the reduction of Quebec
was assembled at Louisburg. Wolfe had been led to expect a force
of twelve thousand men; but the regiments which should have been
detached from Guadeloupe could not yet be spared, and those drawn
from the garrisons of Nova Scotia had been reduced considerably
beneath their proper strength by sickness during the winter. The
quality of the troops, however, was excellent, and on this Wolfe
counted to make good a serious numerical deficiency. The force
was distributed into three brigades, under Brigadiers Monckton,
Townsend, and Murray, all three of them men of youth, energy,
and talent, well qualified to serve under such a commander as
Wolfe.[313] The grenadiers of the army were, as had now become
usual, massed together and organised in two divisions, those of the
regiments in garrison at Louisburg being known as the Louisburg
grenadiers.[314] Another separate corps was composed of the best
marksmen in the several regiments, and was called the Light
Infantry, while six companies of Provincial rangers furnished a
proportion of irregular troops. The whole strength of the force
was thus brought up to about eight thousand five hundred men. A
fortnight sufficed for the final arrangements, for Amherst and his
staff had spared no pains to provide all that was necessary;[315]
and on the 6th of June the last division of transports, amid a
roar of cheering from the men, sailed out of Louisburg for the St.
Lawrence.
The French commanders meanwhile had been anxiously making their
preparations for defence. There could be no doubt that the
British would make at least a double attack upon Canada, from
Lake Champlain on the south and Lake Ontario on the west, and
every able-bodied man in the colony was called out to repel it.
No sooner had the dispositions been settled than news came of
the intended advance by the St. Lawrence, which threw the whole
colony into consternation. Five regular battalions and the militia
from every part of Canada were summoned, together with a thousand
Indians, to Quebec; and after much debate Montcalm, who held the
command of the troops under the Governor of the city, decided on
his scheme of defence. Quebec with its fortifications stands on
the north bank of the St. Lawrence, being situated on a rocky
headland which marks the contraction of the river from a width
of fifteen or twenty miles to a strait scarcely exceeding one.
Immediately to northward of this ridge the river St. Charles flows
down to the St. Lawrence; and seven miles to eastward of the St.
Charles the shore is cut by the rocky gorge through which pours the
cataract of the Montmorenci. It was between these two streams that
Montcalm disposed his army, his right resting on the St. Charles,
his left on the Montmorenci, with his headquarters on the little
river of Beauport midway between the two, and his front to the
St. Lawrence. All along the border of the great river were thrown
up entrenchments, batteries, and redoubts. From Montmorenci to
Beauport abrupt and rocky heights raised these defences too high
above the water to be reached by the cannon of ships. From Beauport
to the St. Charles stretched broad flats of mud, which were
commanded by batteries both afloat and ashore, as well as by the
guns of Quebec. On the walls of the city itself were mounted over
one hundred cannon; a bridge of boats with a strong bridge-head
on the eastern side preserved the communication between city
and camp; and for the defence of the river itself there was a
floating battery of twelve heavy guns besides several gun-boats and
fire-ships. The vessels of the convoy that Durell had failed to
intercept, together with the frigates that escorted them, were sent
up the river beyond Quebec to be out of harm's way; and the sailors
were taken to man the batteries ashore. Thus strongly entrenched
with fourteen thousand men of one description and another, and
firm in the belief that no foreign ship would dare to attempt the
intricate navigation of the St. Lawrence, Montcalm waited for the
British to come.
[Sidenote: June.]
It was not until the 21st of June that the first mast-heads of the
fleet were seen. For days the British had been groping their way
up the river, helped partly by a captured Canadian pilot, more
often by their own skill and experience. "Damn me if there are
not a thousand places in the Thames fifty times more hazardous
than this," growled an old skipper on one of the transports, as he
waived the pilot contemptuously aside. So the great fleet crept up
the stream, ships of the line passing where the French had feared
to take a coasting schooner, and at last on the 26th of June the
whole was anchored safely off the southern shore of the Isle of
Orleans, a few miles below Quebec. No single mishap had marred this
masterly and superb feat of pilotage.
[Sidenote: June 27.]
[Sidenote: June 28.]
[Sidenote: June 29.]
[Sidenote: July.]
The troops landed without resistance next day on the Isle of
Orleans, and on the same afternoon a sudden squall drove many of
the ships ashore and destroyed several of the flat-boats prepared
for the disembarkation. The storm raised high hopes of providential
deliverance in the French, which, however, were speedily dashed,
for the tempest subsided as suddenly as it had arisen. On the
morrow therefore the Governor of Quebec resolved to launch his
fire-ships down the river upon the fleet. The attempt was duly
made, but the ships were ill-handled and the service ill-executed.
The British sailors coolly rowed out, grappled the burning vessels
and towed them ashore, while the troops, formed up in order of
battle, gazed at the most imposing display of fireworks that they
had ever seen. Meanwhile Wolfe reconnoitred the French lines and
the city, but could see no possible opening for a successful
attack. One thing alone seemed feasible, to occupy the heights
of Point Lévis over against Quebec on the southern shore, and to
fire across this, the narrowest part of the river, upon the city.
Monckton's brigade accordingly entrenched itself on these heights,
threw up batteries, and on the 12th of July opened a fire which
wrought havoc among the buildings of Quebec. But however this
cannonade might afflict the nerves of the inhabitants, it could
contribute little, as Wolfe well knew, to advance the real work in
hand.
Accordingly, while the batteries on Point Lévis were constructing,
the English General resolved to see whether a vulnerable point
could be found on Montcalm's left flank. On the 8th of July,
leaving a detachment to hold the camp on the Isle of Orleans, he
sent Townsend's and Murray's brigades across to the northern bank
of the St. Lawrence, where they proceeded to entrench themselves
on the eastern side of the Montmorenci. The movement was highly
perilous, since it divided his force into three portions, no one
of which could support the other; but the French kept themselves
rigidly on the defensive, though the British lay but a gunshot
from them across the rocky gorge of the Montmorenci and annoyed
their camp not a little with their artillery. Still Wolfe could
accomplish nothing decisive. The news that Amherst was advancing
against Ticonderoga did indeed discourage the Canadians and
increase desertion among them; but in all other respects the
operations before Quebec had come to a deadlock.
[Sidenote: July 18.]
[Sidenote: July 28.]
Now, however, the fleet which had already vanquished the
difficulties in the navigation of the St. Lawrence once more came
forward to show the way. It was the opinion of the French that no
vessel could pass the batteries of Quebec without destruction; but
on the night of the 18th of July H.M.S. _Sutherland_, of fifty
guns, with several smaller vessels, sailed safely up the river,
covered by the fire of the guns on Point Lévis, destroyed some
small craft which they found there and anchored above the town.
This was the first menace of an attempt to take Quebec in reverse,
and obliged Montcalm to detach six hundred men from the camp of
Beauport to defend the few accessible points between the city and
Cap Rouge, some eight miles above it. Wolfe took advantage of
the movement also to send a detachment to ravage the country to
westward of Quebec; but though he thus added a fourth to the three
isolated divisions into which he had broken up his army, Montcalm
still declined to move. A second attempt was indeed made to destroy
the British vessels by fire-ships, which was frustrated like the
first by the coolness and gallantry of the British sailors; but
beyond this French aggression would not go. Montcalm was resolved
to play the part of Fabius, and he seemed likely to play it with
success.
The season was now wearing on, and Wolfe was not a whit nearer
to his object than at his first disembarkation. Mortified by his
ill-success he now resolved to attack Montcalm's camp in front.
The hazard was desperate, for, after leaving troops to hold Point
Lévis and the entrenchments on the Montmorenci, he could raise
little more than five thousand men with which to attack a force
of more than double his strength in a very formidable position.
A mile to westward of the falls of the Montmorenci there is a
strand about a furlong wide at high water and half a mile wide
at low tide, between that river and the foot of the cliffs. The
French had built redoubts on this strand above high-water mark,
which were commanded, though Wolfe could not see it, by the fire
of musketry from the entrenchments above. Wolfe's hope was that by
the capture of one of these redoubts he might tempt the French down
to regain it and so bring on a general action, or at least find an
opportunity of reconnoitring the entrenched camp itself. Moreover,
below the falls of the Montmorenci was a ford, by which some at
least of his troops on that river could join in the attack, and so
diminish in some degree the disparity of numbers. But Wolfe held
the Canadian militia in such contempt that he was not afraid to pit
against them, at whatever odds, the valour of his own disciplined
soldiers.
[Sidenote: July 31.]
Accordingly on the morning of the 31st of July H.M.S. _Centurion_
stood in close to the Montmorenci, dropped her anchor and opened
fire on the redoubts. Two armed transports followed her and
likewise opened fire on the nearest redoubt, stranding as the tide
ebbed till at last they lay high and dry on the mud. Simultaneously
the batteries on the other side of the Montmorenci opened a furious
fire upon the flank of Montcalm's entrenchments, and at eleven
o'clock a number of boats filled with troops rowed across from
Point Lévis and hovered about the river opposite Beauport as if
to attack at that point. Time, however, showed Montcalm where
real danger was to be apprehended, and he concentrated the whole
of his twelve thousand men between Beauport and the Montmorenci.
At half-past five the British batteries afloat and ashore opened
fire with redoubled fury, and the boats made a dash for the shore.
Unfortunately some of them grounded on a ledge short of the flats,
which caused some confusion and delay, but eventually all of them
reached the strand and set the men ashore. Thirteen companies of
grenadiers were the first to land, and after them two hundred men
of the Sixtieth; while some distance behind them the Fifteenth
and Fraser's Highlanders followed in support. No sooner were they
ashore than the grenadiers, the most trusted troops in the army,
for some reason got out of hand. Despite the efforts of their
officers they would not wait for the supports to form up, but made
a rush in the greatest disorder and confusion for the redoubt and
drove the French from it. Instantly a tremendous fire was poured
upon them from the entrenchments above. The grenadiers recoiled
for a moment; then recovering themselves they ran forward again and
made a mad effort to struggle up the steep, slippery grass of the
ascent, but only to roll down by scores, killed or wounded by the
hail of musketry from the French lines. Where the affair would have
ended it is hard to say, had not the clouds of a summer's storm,
which had hung over the river all the afternoon, suddenly burst
just at that moment in a deluge of rain. All ammunition on both
sides was drenched, so that further firing became impossible, while
the grassy slope became so treacherous that it was hopeless to
attempt to climb it. Wolfe, seeing that everything was gone wrong,
ordered a retreat; and the troops fell back and re-embarked, the
grenadiers and Sixtieth having lost five hundred officers and men,
or well-nigh half of their numbers, in killed, wounded, and missing.
[Sidenote: August 5.]
Wolfe was highly indignant over the misbehaviour of the grenadiers,
and rebuked them sharply in general orders for their impetuous,
irregular, and unsoldierlike proceedings. The French, on the other
hand, were naturally much elated, and flattered themselves that
the campaign was virtually at an end. Nor was Wolfe of a very
different opinion. It is said, indeed, that he conceived the idea
of leaving a part of his troops in a fortified position before
Quebec, to be ready for a new attempt in the following spring.
Meanwhile for the present he fell back on the tactics, which
Barrington had so successfully employed at Guadeloupe, of laying
waste all the settlements round about Quebec, with the object of
provoking desertion among the militia and exhausting the colony
generally. Montcalm, however, was not to be enticed from his lines;
he had Indians with him sufficient to make hideous reprisals for
Wolfe's desolation, and Canada was not to be won by the burning
of villages. Wolfe, therefore, now shifted his operations to the
point whither the enterprise of the fleet had led him, above and
on the reverse side of Quebec. With every fair wind more and more
ships had braved the fire of the batteries and passed through it
in safety; and now a flotilla of flat-boats dared the same passage,
while twelve hundred men under Brigadier Murray marched overland
up the south bank of the St. Lawrence to do service in them. This
movement compelled Montcalm to withdraw another fifteen hundred men
from the camp at Beauport, to check any attempt at a landing above
the city. The duty thus imposed upon this small body of French was
most arduous, since it involved anxious watching of fifteen or
twenty miles of the shore. So well was it performed, however, under
the direction of Bougainville, an officer afterwards famous as the
great navigator, that it was only after two repulses that Murray
succeeded in burning a large magazine of French stores. The alarm
caused by this stroke was so great that Montcalm hastened from
Beauport to take command in person; but when he arrived the British
had already retired, content with their success.
None the less the French from the highest to the lowest now grew
seriously uneasy. Their army was on short rations. All its supplies
were drawn from the districts of Three Rivers and Montreal; and,
from want of transport overland, these were perforce sent down the
river where the British ships lay ready to intercept them. Now was
seen the error of sending the frigates up the river and allowing
the British squadron to assemble by small detachments above Quebec;
but it was too late to repair it. The British fleet had discovered
the true method of reducing the city by severing its communications
both above and below. The only hope for the French was that winter
might drive the shipping from the St. Lawrence and put an end to
the campaign, before Quebec should be starved out.
[Sidenote: June 15.]
[Sidenote: July.]
[Sidenote: July 24.]
Meanwhile Amherst's operations to south and west began likewise to
tell upon the situation. Taking advantage of the latitude allowed
to him by Pitt, he determined to add the reduction of Niagara
to the enterprises prescribed to him. This duty he assigned to
Brigadier Prideaux with five thousand men;[316] Brigadier Stanwix
was entrusted with the relief of Pittsburg; and Amherst in person
took charge of the grand advance by Lakes George and Champlain.
The operations of Prideaux and Stanwix were to be conducted in
combination; for it was intended that while Prideaux was engaged
with Niagara, Stanwix should push a force northward against the
French posts on Lake Erie, and thence on to Niagara itself, thus
releasing Prideaux for an advance to the St. Lawrence. Prideaux
was the first to take the field. His force having been assembled
on the Mohawk at Senectady, he moved up the stream, left a strong
garrison at Fort Stanwix to guard the Great Carrying-place, and
moved forward by Lake Oneida and the river Onandaga to Oswego.
There leaving nearly half of his force under Colonel Haldimand
to secure his retreat, he embarked with the rest on the lake for
Niagara. The fort stood in the angle formed by the river Niagara
and Lake Ontario, and was garrisoned by some six hundred men.
Prideaux at once laid siege in form, though the trenches were at
first so unskilfully laid out by the engineers as to require almost
total reconstruction. At last, however, the batteries opened fire.
Prideaux was unluckily killed almost immediately by the premature
explosion of a shell from one of his own guns, but Sir William
Johnson, who had joined the force with a party of Indians, took
command in his place and pushed the siege with great energy. The
fort after two or three weeks of battering was in extremity; when
a party of thirteen hundred French rangers and Indians, which had
been summoned from the work of harassing the British on the Ohio
to the relief of Niagara, appeared on the scene in the very nick
of time. Johnson rose worthily to the occasion. Leaving a third of
his force in the trenches and yet another third to guard his boats,
he sallied forth with the remainder to meet the relieving force,
and after a brisk engagement routed it completely. The survivors
fled hurriedly back to Lake Erie, burned Venango and the posts on
the lake and retired to Detroit. Niagara surrendered on the evening
of the same day, and thus were accomplished at a stroke the most
important objects to be gained by Stanwix and Prideaux. The whole
region of the Upper Ohio was left in undisputed possession of the
British, and the French posts of the West were hopelessly cut off
from Canada. Now, therefore, the ground was open for an advance
on Montreal by Lake Ontario; and Amherst lost no time in sending
General Gage to take command of Prideaux's force, with orders to
attack the French post of La Galette, at the head of the rapids of
the St. Lawrence, and thence to push on as close as possible to
Montreal. "Now is the time," wrote Amherst to him, "and we must
make use of it."[317]
[Sidenote: July 21.]
[Sidenote: July 26.]
[Sidenote: August.]
Amherst himself had assembled his army at the end of June at the
usual rendezvous by the head of Lake George. His force consisted
of about eleven thousand five hundred men, five thousand of them
Provincials and the remainder British.[318] As was now the rule,
he had massed the grenadiers of the army into one corps, and
had formed also a body of Light Infantry which he had equipped
appropriately for its work.[319] It was not, however, until the
21st of July that the troops were embarked, and that a flotilla
little less imposing than Abercromby's set sail with a fair wind
over Lake George. It was drawn up in four columns, the light
troops and Provincials on either flank, the regular troops in the
right centre and the artillery and baggage in the left centre.
An advanced and a rear-guard in line covered the head and tail
of the columns, and an armed sloop followed in rear of all.
Before dark they had reached the Narrows, and at daybreak of the
following morning the force disembarked and marched, meeting with
little resistance, by the route of Abercromby's second advance
to Ticonderoga. The entrenchments which had foiled the British
in the previous year had been reconstructed but were found to be
deserted; Bourlamaque, the French commander, having withdrawn
his garrison, some thirty-five hundred men only, into the fort.
Amherst brought up his artillery to lay siege in form, but on the
night of the 26th a loud explosion announced that the French had
abandoned Ticonderoga and blown up the works. It was, however, but
one bastion that had been destroyed, so Amherst at once repaired
the damage and made preparations for advance on Crown Point. On
the 1st of August he learned that Bourlamaque had abandoned this
fortress also, and fallen back to the strong position of Isle aux
Noix at the northern outlet of Lake Champlain. Amherst was now
brought to a standstill, for the French had four armed vessels on
the lake, and it was necessary for him to build vessels likewise
for the protection of the flotilla before he could advance farther.
He at once set about this work, concurrently with the erection of
a strong fort at Crown Point, but unfortunately he began too late.
Amherst was above all a methodical man, whose principle was to make
good each step gained before he attempted to move again. Possibly
he had not anticipated so easy an advance to Crown Point, but, be
that as it may, he had made no provision for advancing beyond it,
and when at last, by the middle of September, his ships were ready,
the season was too far advanced for further operations. He tried
to stir up Gage to hasten to the attack on La Galette, but without
success. In fact by the middle of August the campaign of the armies
of the south and west was virtually closed.
[Sidenote: August.]
Nevertheless for the moment the news of Amherst's advance to Crown
Point caused great alarm in Quebec, and Montcalm felt himself
obliged to send Lévis, one of his best officers, to superintend the
defence of Montreal. Gradually, however, as Amherst's inaction was
prolonged, the garrison regained confidence; and meanwhile deep
discouragement fell on the British. On the 20th of August Wolfe,
who was much exhausted by hard work, anxiety, and mortification,
fell seriously ill and was compelled to delegate the conduct of
operations to a council of his brigadiers. Several plans were
propounded to them, all of which they rejected in favour of an
attempt to gain a footing on the ridge above the city, cut off
Montcalm's supplies from Montreal, and compel him to fight or
surrender. The course was that which had been marked out by the
fleet from the moment that the ships had passed above Quebec. It
was indeed both difficult and hazardous, but it was the only plan
that promised any hope of success; and the success, if attained,
would be final. Wolfe accepted it forthwith and without demur. The
army had lost over eight hundred men killed and wounded since the
beginning of operations, and had been weakened still more seriously
by disease; but the General was driven to desperation by sickness
and disappointment and was ready to undertake any enterprise that
commended itself to his officers. On the last day of August he was
sufficiently recovered to go abroad once more, and on the 2nd of
September he wrote to Pitt the story of his failure up to that day
and of his resolutions for the future, all in a strain of dejection
that sank almost to despair.
[Sidenote: Sept. 3.]
On the following day the troops were skilfully withdrawn without
loss from the camp on the Montmorenci. On the night of the 4th a
flotilla of flat-boats passed successfully above the town with
the baggage and stores, and on the 5th seven battalions marched
westward overland from Point Lévis and embarked, together with
Wolfe himself, on Admiral Holmes' ships. Montcalm thereupon
reinforced Bougainville to a strength of three thousand men and
charged him to watch the movements of the fleet with the utmost
vigilance. Bougainville's headquarters were at Cap Rouge, with
detached fortified posts at Sillery, six miles down the river,
at Samos yet farther down, and at Anse du Foulon, now called
Wolfe's Cove, a mile and a half above Quebec. It was by this last
that Wolfe, searching the heights for mile after mile with his
telescope, perceived a narrow path running up the face of the
precipice. From the path he turned his glass to the post above it,
and seeing but ten or twelve tents concluded that the guard was not
numerous and might be overpowered. There then was a way found for
the ascent of the cliffs from the river: the next problem was how
to turn the discovery to good account.
On the morning of the 7th of September Holmes' squadron weighed
anchor and sailed up to Cap Rouge. The French instantly turned
out to man their entrenchments; and Wolfe, having kept them in
suspense for a sufficient time, ordered the troops into the
boats and directed them to row up and down as if in search of a
landing-place. The succeeding days were employed in a series of
similar feints, the ships drifting daily up to Cap Rouge with
the flood tide and dropping down to Quebec with the ebb, till
Bougainville, who followed every movement with increasing anxiety
and bewilderment, fairly wore out his troops with incessant
marching to and fro.
[Sidenote: Sept. 12.]
At last on the 12th of September Wolfe's opportunity presented
itself. Two deserters came in from Bougainville's camp with
intelligence that at next ebb-tide a convoy of provisions would
pass down the river to Quebec. Wolfe sent orders to Colonel Burton,
who was in command of the standing camps, that all the men which he
could spare from them should march at nightfall along the southern
bank of the river, and wait at a chosen place for embarkation. As
night fell Admiral Saunders moved out of the basin of Orleans with
the main fleet and ranged the ships along the length of the camp
at Beauport. The boats were then lowered and manned by marines,
sailors, and such few soldiers as had been left below Quebec, while
the ships opened fire on the beach as if to clear it for a landing.
Montcalm, completely deceived, massed the whole of his troops
at Beauport, and kept them under arms to repel the threatened
attack. Meanwhile Holmes' squadron, with boats moored alongside
the transports, lay quietly anchored off Cap Rouge, nor showed
sign of life until late dusk, when seventeen hundred men[320]
took their places in the boats and drifted with the tide for some
little distance up the stream. Bougainville marked the movement
and made no doubt that attack was designed upon his headquarters.
Night fell, dark and moonless, and all was quiet. Monsieur Vergor,
who commanded the post at Anse du Foulon, gave leave to most of
his guard of Canadians to go harvesting, and saw no reason why he
should not himself go comfortably to bed. Bougainville remained on
the alert, doubtless impatient for the tide to turn, which would
carry the British away from his quarters and leave him in peace. He
did not know that Wolfe was even then on board the flag-ship making
his final arrangements for the morrow's battle, and that he had
handed the portrait of his betrothed to Captain John Jervis[321] of
H.M.S. _Porcupine_, to be returned to her in the event of his death.
[Sidenote: Sept. 13.]
At length at two o'clock in the morning the tide ebbed.
Two lanterns rose flickering to the maintop shrouds of the
_Sutherland_; Wolfe and his officers stepped into their boat, and
with the whole flotilla astern of them dropped silently down the
river. After a due interval the sloops and frigates followed, with
the second division of troops on board;[322] and Bougainville with
a sigh of relief resolved not to harass his men by a fruitless
march after them. For full two hours the boats pursued their way,
when the silence was broken by the challenge of a French sentry.
"France," answered a Highland officer who had learned the French
tongue on foreign service. "What regiment?" pursued the sentry.
"The Queen's" (_de la Reine_) replied the officer, naming a corps
that formed part of Bougainville's force. The sentry, knowing that
a convoy of provisions was expected, allowed the boats to pass;
for though Bougainville had, as a matter of fact, countermanded
the convoy, the guards had not been apprised of the countermand.
Off Samos another sentry, visible not a pistol-shot away from the
boats, again challenged. "Provision-boats," answered the same
officer, "don't make a noise or the English will hear." Once
more the boats were suffered to pass. Presently they rounded the
headland of Anse du Foulon, and there no sentry was to be seen.
The leading boats were carried by the current somewhat below the
intended landing-place, and the troops disembarked below the path,
on a narrow strand at the foot of the heights. Then twenty-four men
of the Light Infantry, who had volunteered for a certain unknown
but dangerous service under Colonel Howe, slung their muskets about
them, threw themselves upon the face of the cliff, and began to
drag themselves through the two hundred feet of stunted bush that
separated them from the enemy.
The dawn was just breaking as they reached the top, and through the
dim light they could distinguish the group of tents that composed
Vergor's encampment. Instantly they dashed at them; and the French,
utterly surprised, at once took to their heels. Vergor, who was
reputed a coward, stood firm and fired his pistols; and the report
of three of the British muskets, together with the cheers of Howe's
forlorn hope, gave Wolfe the signal for which he waited. He uttered
the word to advance, and the rest of the troops swarmed up the
cliff to their comrades as best they could. The zigzag path which
had first attracted Wolfe's eye was found to be obstructed by
trenches and abatis, but these obstacles were cleared away and the
ascent made easier. Presently the report of cannon was heard from
up the river: the batteries of Sillery and Samos were firing at the
rearmost of the boats and at Holmes' squadron. Howe and his Light
Infantry were detached to silence them, which they effectually did;
and meanwhile the disembarkation proceeded rapidly. As fast as the
boats were emptied they went back to fetch the second division
from the ships and Burton's men from the opposite shore. Before
the sun was well up the whole force of forty-five hundred men had
accomplished the ascent, and was filing across the plain at the
summit of the heights.
Wolfe went forward to reconnoitre. The ground on which he stood
formed part of the high plateau which ends in the promontory of
Quebec. About a mile to eastward of the landing-place was a tract
of grass, known as the plains of Abraham, fairly level ground for
the most part, though broken by patches of corn and clumps of
bushes, and bounded on the south by the heights of the St. Lawrence
and to north by those of the St. Charles. On these plains, where
the plateau is less than a mile wide, Wolfe chose his position for
the expected battle. His situation, despite the skilful execution
of the movement which brought his army across Montcalm's line
of communication, was no secure nor enviable one, for besides
Montcalm's army and the garrison of Quebec in his front, he had
also to reckon with Bougainville's detachment in his rear. His
only chance of success was that the French should allow him to
beat them in detail, that, in fact, they should bring out their
main army and give him opportunity to crush it in front, before
Bougainville should have time to operate effectively in his rear.
But there was no reason why the French should do anything of the
kind; and Wolfe's dispositions needed to be regulated accordingly.
The extent of the ground was too great to permit order of battle
in more than one line; and it was in one line that he prepared
to meet the main force from the side of Quebec. The right wing
rested on the brink of the heights above the St. Lawrence, and
here was stationed a single platoon of the Twenty-eighth. Next
it, in succession from right to left, stood the Thirty-fifth,
three companies of the Louisburg grenadiers,[323] the remainder
of the Twenty-eighth, the Forty-third, Forty-seventh, Fraser's
Highlanders, and the Fifty-eighth. Straight through the centre
of the position, midway between the Forty-seventh and Fraser's,
ran the road from Sillery to Quebec, and here was posted a single
light field-gun[324] which had been dragged up from Wolfe's Cove.
On the extreme left, beyond the flank of the Fifty-eighth, ran
the road from Sainte Foy to Quebec, with a few scattered houses
on the south side and patches of bushes and coppice beyond it.
The line, being three ranks deep, was not long enough to rest its
left on this road, much less on the heights above the St. Charles,
so the Fifteenth foot was thrown back _en potence_ to prevent the
turning of the left flank. The second battalion of the Sixtieth
and the Forty-eighth Foot were stationed in rear, the one on the
left and the other on the right, in eight subdivisions, with wide
intervals. Two companies of the Fifty-eighth were left to guard the
landing-place, the third battalion of the Sixtieth was detached
to the right rear to preserve communication with it; and finally
Howe's Light Infantry occupied a wood far in rear, evidently to
hold Bougainville in check. Monckton commanded the right and Murray
the left of the fighting line, while Townsend took charge of the
scattered troops which did duty for a reserve. Wolfe in person
remained with Monckton's brigade.[325] Probably he anticipated that
Montcalm would attempt to turn his right and so cut off his retreat.
Meanwhile Montcalm had passed a troubled night. The false attack
of the fleet on Beauport had kept him in continual anxiety; and
he was still more disquieted at daybreak to hear the sound of the
cannon of Samos and Sillery above the city. He sent an officer to
the Governor's quarters in Quebec for information, but received
no answer; so at six o'clock he rode up to look for himself,
when on reaching the right of his camp he caught sight, over the
St. Charles, of an ominous band of scarlet stretched across the
heights two miles away. His countenance fell. "This is a serious
business," he said, and he despatched an aide-de-camp at full
gallop to bring up the troops from the right and centre of the camp
of Beauport. The men, only lately relieved from the manning of the
entrenchments, got under arms and streamed away in hot haste across
the bridge of the St. Charles and through the narrow streets of the
city--Indians, Canadians, and regulars all alike stirred by the
sudden approach of danger. Further reconnaissance filled Montcalm
with still greater dismay. It was not a mere detachment, but
practically the entire British army that had found its way to the
heights between him and Montreal. Meanwhile Vaudreuil, the Governor
of Quebec, who was also Commander-in-Chief, was not to be found;
and there was unity neither of direction nor of obedience. Montcalm
applied to Ramesay, who commanded the garrison of Quebec, for
twenty-five field-guns which were mounted in one of the batteries:
Ramesay declared that he needed them for his own defence and would
spare but three. Then there was anxious waiting for the troops from
the left of Beauport's camp, which for some reason never came. All
was confusion, perplexity, and distraction.
In such circumstances Montcalm appears to have succumbed to
nervous strain and to have lost his wits. He held a hasty council
of war with his principal officers and decided to fight at once.
He was afraid, it seems, lest Wolfe should be reinforced or lest
he might entrench himself. Yet there was no occasion for extreme
haste. Another two hours would have sufficed, if not to bring up
the missing troops from Beauport, at all events to procure more
guns and to send a messenger by a safe route to concert measures
with Bougainville; and the day was yet young. The supplies of the
French were failing, it is true, but their army was not starving;
and from whence was Wolfe himself, with Bougainville in his
rear, to draw his supplies even supposing that he did entrench
himself? The British had two days' provisions with them, but for
all further supply they must depend on a single zigzag path wide
enough for but one man abreast. Even supposing that Montcalm could
not succeed in obtaining the thirty field-guns for which he asked,
and which if obtained would almost inevitably have blasted the
British army off the field, there was nothing to prevent him from
manœuvring with a superior force to keep the British under arms
until nightfall, while his Indians and irregulars, of whom he had
abundance, harried the British right flank in front and rear under
shelter of the scrub, and hindered the bringing up of further
stores. What would have been the condition of Wolfe's army on the
following morning after a second night under arms, and what opening
might there not have been for successful attack? But it was not to
be. Whether Montcalm was spurred on by the impatience of his own
half-distracted force, or whether he simply gave way to nervous
exhaustion, must remain uncertain. At any rate he resolved with the
five thousand troops that were with him to accept battle at once.
By nine o'clock his line of battle was formed, some six hundred
yards from the British position. On his right, resting on the road
to Sainte Foy was a battalion of Canadian militia, and next to it
in succession the regular regiments of Bèarn and La Sarre. Next
to these, in column on either side of the road to Sillery, were
the regiments of Guienne and Languedoc, and to their left regiment
Roussillon and another battalion of militia. On the extreme right
and left some two thousand Indians and Canadians swarmed forward in
skirmishing order in advance of the line of battle. It was with the
fire of these sharpshooters that the action began. There was good
cover for them not only on the flanks but also among the scattered
bushes in the front. Wolfe threw out skirmishers to meet them, and
the fusillade became lively, especially on the British left, where
Townsend's men began to fall fast. So severe became this pressure
on the left that Townsend, alarmed for his flank, brought up the
second battalion of the Sixtieth to the left of the Fifty-eighth,
detailed part of them to drive the Canadians from the houses by the
road and doubled the remainder back _en potence_ in line with the
Fifteenth; while at the same time the Light Infantry was called up
in support of the Fifteenth to strengthen the flank still further.
Thus before the action was well begun the rear-guard and half of
the reserve was practically absorbed in the fighting line. On the
British right, where the French sharpshooters could not get round
the flank, their fire was by no means so deadly; but it does not
appear that either of these attacks formed part of any settled plan
of Montcalm, for by throwing the mass of his skirmishers against
the British left he might have made them very formidable.
Meanwhile Montcalm's three field-guns had opened fire, and were
answered by the single gun on the Sillery road with great effect.
So the minutes dragged on, until at a little before ten the French
line advanced with loud shouts to the true attack, the regulars in
the centre moving steadily, a long streak of white edged on either
hand with red and with blue, and the militia striving to move as
steadily on the flanks. The English, who until now had been lying
down, then sprang to their feet and stood steady with recovered
arms. At a range of two hundred yards the French muskets opened
fire but with little effect, while much confusion and delay was
caused by the Canadian militia who, true to their instincts as
skirmishers, threw themselves flat on the ground to reload. Wolfe
was shot through the wrist, but he merely wrapped his handkerchief
round the wound, and called to the men to be steady and reserve
their fire. The French recovered their order somewhat and again
came on, filling the air with their cries, while the British stood
calm, silent and immovable, knowing their chief and trusting
him.[326] Nearer and nearer drew the parti-coloured line, gayer
and gayer as the blue and scarlet facings on the white coats came
into view, brighter and brighter as the detail of metal buttons and
accoutrements cleared themselves from the distance, till at length
the time was come. Thirty-five yards only separated the opposing
arrays, when the word rang out, the still red line sprang into
life, the recovered muskets leaped forward into a long bristling
bar, and with one deafening crash, the most perfect volley ever
fired on battlefield burst forth as if from a single monstrous
weapon, from end to end of the British line. A dense bank of smoke
blotted the French from sight, and from behind it there rose a
horrible din of clattering arms, and savage oaths and agonised
cries. The sharp clink of ramrods broke in upon the sound as the
British reloaded; and when the smoke rolled away, the gay line was
seen to be shivered to fragments, while the bright coats strewed
the ground like swathes of gaudy flowers. There was hardly a bullet
of that volley that had not struck home.
Montcalm, himself unhurt and conspicuous on a black charger,
galloped frantically up and down his shattered ranks in a vain
effort to restore order. Wolfe gave the order to advance, and
after one more volley the scarlet line strode forward with bayonet
and claymore to complete the rout. There was nothing to stop the
British, nothing even to gall them except the fire of a few
sharpshooters hidden in the scrub. Wolfe himself led them at the
head of the Twenty-eighth. A bullet struck him in the groin, but
he paused not a moment and was still striding on, when another
ball passed through his lungs. He staggered forward, still vainly
striving to keep on his feet. "Support me, support me," he gasped
to an officer who was close to him, "lest my gallant fellows
should see me fall." Two or three men fell out and carried him
to the rear, but his fall was noticed by few; and the victorious
line pressed on. Some of the sharpshooters continued to fire from
behind the shrubs and required to be driven out. Others taking
cover nearer to the town opened a biting fire on the Highlanders
who, charging as usual with the claymore only, suffered much loss
in the attempt to force so wily an enemy from the bush. But other
regiments came up and did the work for them with the musket,
and thenceforward no further stand was made by the French, but
Montcalm's whole force broke up and fled in wild confusion towards
the town. He himself, borne away in the rush of the fugitives,
was shot through the body, but being supported in the saddle rode
in through the gates. "It is nothing, nothing," he called to the
shrieking women who saw the red stains on his white uniform; "don't
distress yourselves over me, good people." He was lifted from his
horse and borne into a surgeon's house to die. The panic among
the French increased. Their chief was dying, his second mortally
wounded; and among the terrified mob that fled by the St. Charles
there rose a cry to destroy the bridge of boats, lest the English
should break into the camp of Beauport. This insane movement, which
would have sacrificed the whole of the fugitives who had not yet
crossed the river, was checked by one or two officers who still
kept their wits about them; but none the less the French were not
only beaten but demoralised, and the victory of the British was
complete.
But the victors also had lost the services both of their General
and his second. Monckton had been severely wounded by a musket-shot
which for the present disabled him from duty, and Wolfe had been
carried to the rear more dead than alive. He begged his bearers to
set him down, and refused to see a surgeon. "There is no need," he
said, "it is all over with me"; and he sank into unconsciousness.
"How they run," cried out one of the attendants, as he watched the
French flying before the red-coats. "Who run?" asked Wolfe, waking
suddenly to life. "The enemy, Sir, they give way everywhere." "Go
one of you to Colonel Burton," ordered the dying General with great
earnestness, "and tell him to march Webb's regiment[327] down to
Charles River to cut off the retreat from the bridge." He ceased,
and turned on his side. "Now, God be praised, I will die in peace,"
he murmured; and so died.
With his death and the disabling of Monckton the command devolved
upon Townsend, who had no sooner assumed it than he found the rear
of the army threatened by Bougainville. Turning upon this new
enemy with two battalions and two field-guns he soon forced him to
retire; and then, the pursuit being ended, he proceeded to entrench
himself on the battlefield. The losses of the British were trifling
compared with the magnitude of the success, amounting to no more
than six hundred and thirty of all ranks killed and wounded.[328]
The chief sufferers were the Highlanders, during their onslaught
with the claymore, and the Fifteenth, Fifty-eighth and second
battalion of the Sixtieth, who bore the brunt of the sharpshooting
on the left flank. Before midnight the entrenchments had made good
progress, and cannon had been brought up to defend them. A battery
also had been mounted at the northern angle of the town, and the
French hospital, full of sick and wounded men, had been taken.
Nothing is said of the exhaustion of the troops, who had been on
duty continuously for at least thirty hours.
Meanwhile utter confusion reigned in the French camp. Vaudreuil
called a council of war, and there was tumultuous debate. A
messenger was sent to the dying Montcalm for advice, and returned
with the reply that there were three courses open, to retreat up
the river, to fight again, or to surrender the colony. There was
much to be said for fighting, for with Bougainville's force the
French could still bring superior numbers into the field; still
more to be said for the defence of Quebec; but the demoralisation
was too deep to permit any bold action. At nine o'clock in the
evening Vaudreuil gave the order to retreat, and, the word once
uttered, the entire French force streamed away in disorderly and
disgraceful flight to the post of Jacques Cartier, thirty miles up
the St. Lawrence. The only instructions left with the garrison of
Quebec were to surrender as soon as provisions should fail. Well
was it for Montcalm, always a brave and faithful soldier, that his
deliverance came to him before the dawn of another day.
[Sidenote: Sept. 17.]
Townsend for his part pushed his trenches forward against Quebec
with the greatest energy. The French, despite their precipitate
retreat, were still superior force in his rear; and though
certainly demoralised might rally on joining the unbeaten troops
of Lévis, and imbibe new courage under the leadership of that
excellent officer. It was therefore imperative to press the
garrison hard while still overpowered by the despairing sense of
its isolation. On the 17th of September the British ships of war
moved up against the Lower Town, and a scarlet column approached
the walls from the meadows of the St. Charles. The French drums
beat to arms, but the Canadian militia refused to turn out, and the
white flag was hoisted. An officer was sent to Townsend's quarters
to gain time, if possible, by prolonging negotiations. Townsend's
answer was peremptory: unless the town were surrendered by eleven
o'clock, he would take it by storm; and on this Ramesay signed the
capitulation. It was none too soon. Before the messenger with the
signed articles had reached Townsend, Canadian horsemen arrived
with provisions and with a cheering message that help was at
hand; and on the very next morning Lévis marched out from Jacques
Cartier, only to learn that he was just too late.
[Sidenote: Sept. 18.]
On the afternoon of the 18th the British entered the city, and
during the following weeks were employed in strengthening the
defences and making provision against the winter; for it had been
decided that the fortress must be held at all risks. Monckton
was still too far disabled to assume command; Townsend, fresh
from the House of Commons, had no mind for such dreary duty as
winter-quarters; so Brigadier Murray was left as Governor with a
garrison of seven thousand five hundred men, his battalions being
strengthened by drafts from the Sixty-second and Sixty-ninth, which
were serving on board the fleet. At the end of October Admiral
Saunders fired his farewell salute and dropped down the river with
his fleet, carrying with him the embalmed remains of Wolfe, to be
laid by his father's body in the parish church of Greenwich.
So ended the first stage of the conquest of Canada, with better
fortune than might have been expected; for there is no gainsaying
the fact that the concert of operations intended by Pitt and
designed by Amherst had broken down. It should seem indeed that
the scheme was too complex, that too much was attempted with
the resources at command, that the combination of the various
enterprises was too intricate to admit of complete success in a
wild and distant country, where the campaigning season was so
strictly bounded by the climate. Amherst's operations depended
greatly on the help given to him by the Provincials, and the
colonial assemblies whatever their good-will were always dilatory,
while sometimes, as in the case of Pennsylvania, they were
intolerably recalcitrant. Again, though drafts had been sent to
the General to make good the losses of the previous campaign,[329]
these were not nearly sufficient to fill the gaps made by the
slaughter of Ticonderoga and the bitter cold of a Canadian winter.
Significantly enough, also, no care had been taken to provide
the garrison of Louisburg, most arctic of quarters, even with
coverlets, so that the casualties in the winter were far greater
than they should have been.[330] Again, it had been ordained that
Hopson should reinforce Amherst when his work at Martinique was
done, but this arrangement also had broken down; and the least
forethought as to the waste of a tropical campaign would have shown
that it should not have been reckoned on. The result was that
Amherst and Wolfe found themselves with insufficient troops, and
that as a natural consequence the former was obliged to cut the
margin of his several operations too fine. The death of Prideaux,
an excellent officer, was a great misfortune, though Johnson
finished his work at Niagara efficiently enough. Stanwix also,
after overcoming vast difficulties of transport, succeeded in
penetrating to Pittsburg; but here the operations of both columns
came to an end. The Ohio happened to be so low that Stanwix could
not send up a battalion, as he had been bidden, to reinforce
Gage for his advance to La Galette; and Gage, who was not a very
enterprising man, to Amherst's great disappointment thought
himself not strong enough to move in consequence. On Amherst's own
failure to reach Montreal comment has already been passed; but it
should be remembered that the whole burden of the preparations for
Wolfe's expedition was laid upon him, and that Wolfe gratefully
acknowledged the thoroughness of the work. Still the fact remains
that the diversions from south and west were an almost total
failure, and that Wolfe was consequently obliged to perform his
difficult task unaided.
Fortune was against the British in that the weather delayed the
assembling of Wolfe's army at Louisburg; for those few lost weeks
might easily have made the entire difference to the campaign.
Wolfe, with an inadequate force, was driven to his wits' end to
solve the problem assigned to him; and it is quite incontestable
that the credit for the fall of Quebec belongs rather to the
Navy than to the Army. The names of Saunders and of Holmes are
little remembered; and the fame of James Cook the master, whose
skill and diligence did much to reveal the unknown channel of the
St. Lawrence, is swallowed up in that of Captain James Cook the
navigator. Still the fact remains unaltered. It was the audacity of
Holmes and his squadron in running the gauntlet of the batteries of
Quebec which first threatened the supplies and communications of
the city, and forced Montcalm to weaken his main army by detaching
Bougainville. It was the terrible restless energy of the same
squadron, ever moving up and down the river, which wore out the
limbs of the French soldiers and the nerves of their officers; and
to the Navy fully as much as to the Army is due the praise for the
movement that finally set Wolfe and his battalions on the heights
of Abraham. But in truth this last most delicate and critical
operation was so admirably thought out and executed by the officers
of both services that it must abide for ever a masterpiece in its
kind. The British Navy and Army working, as at Quebec, in concord
and harmony under loyal and able chiefs, are indeed not easily
baffled.
It still remains for enquiry why Wolfe did not take earlier
advantage of the opportunities opened to him by the fleet; and even
after allowance has been made for his constant illness, the answer
is not readily found. The measures which led to the decisive action
were, as has been told, taken on the advice of his brigadiers,
and, if Montcalm had not succumbed to positive infatuation, would
very likely have brought Wolfe to a court-martial. But if instead
of wasting the whole of August in futile efforts below Quebec,
Wolfe had shifted his operations forthwith to the west of the city,
it seems at least probable that he could have attained his object
without hazarding that desperate cast on the plains of Abraham. It
would presumably have been open to him to gain the heights as he
gained them ultimately, to have overwhelmed Bougainville's posts
piecemeal, as was done as far as Sillery by a small detachment on
the morning of the battle, and to have entrenched himself in the
most suitable of them. Then having cut the French communications
by land and water, he could have forced Montcalm either to abandon
Quebec or to fight on his own terms. But it is easy to be wise
after the event; and a brilliant success, however fortunate, is
rightly held to cover all errors. Moreover, the praise for the
perfection of drill and discipline which won the victory with a
single volley is all Wolfe's own. Still it seems to be a fair
criticism that the General was slow to perceive the real weakness
of Montcalm's position and the vital spot laid open to him by the
fleet for a deadly thrust. The consequence was that the work was
but half done and, as shall now be seen, only narrowly escaped
undoing.