AT LAST
“If you will allow me, I will reconnoitre. Disguised as an Indian, I can
approach both the Indian and Canadian camps. I can even penetrate into Quebec
itself. I know the language, I know their ways; I am the man most fitted to
undertake this task. Information you must have before risking the safety of
the whole army.”
“He is quite right, and Captain Roger is the only man who, with the least
chance of success, can undertake to procure us that information, without which
it is almost madness for us to attempt a landing. If he is willing to risk his
life, we shall be his debtors,” said Colonel Howe.
“I am willing,” answered Roger. “With my knowledge of Indian and Canadian
warfare, I run very little danger of being caught. You have decided, I think,
to take the fleet up the St. Lawrence, and to effect a landing on the other
side of Quebec. That there is a footpath or a subterraneous passage somewhere
in the neighbourhood of what is called L’Anse de Foulon I am certain. I have
heard that it is a spot much favoured by smugglers. The Jesuits had a depôt in
the neighbouring cliffs; and since then Bigot and his crew are said to make it
their hiding place. The whole thing lies in a nutshell--to discover the path
and to assure myself to what extent it is fortified.”
“Just so,” exclaimed Wolfe excitedly. “If only we could secure a footing on
the plain and force the French to fight us!”
“In two days at latest if I am alive I will report to you; if I fail in my
attempt I will at least try to send you a message,” said Roger.
“Of all the services you have rendered us, Captain Roger, and they have not
been a few, this will be the greatest,” said the General, holding out his
hand. “If I could only bring this war to a close I should die happy.”
“Let us hope you may live to enjoy the fruits of your long anxiety, General,”
said Roger; and he took his leave.
As the door closed upon him Colonel Howe turned to Wolfe, saying, “He’ll do
it. There’s not such another fellow in the army; and now my advice is to break
up the camp here and embark a great portion of the troops. The French will
imagine we are preparing to sail for England.”
This plan was carried out, General Wolfe going on board the _Sutherland_.
Admiral Holmes’ fleet, with three thousand six hundred men on board, sailed up
and down the river, The French were thus kept night and day on the watch to
oppose their landing; and Montcalm, though he fully believed the English were
on the eve of their departure, never for one moment relaxed his vigilance,
feeling sure Wolfe would not be satisfied to withdraw without striking one
decisive blow. So by night and by day he was on foot, trusting no one’s
supervision save his own. He had sent three thousand men to Bougainville,
above Quebec. Captain de Vergor, with a hundred Canadians, was posted on the
heights near the town; this spot was looked upon as perfectly safe, being
inaccessible, and was therefore considered sufficiently protected.
The town of Quebec was suffering greatly from the effects of the English fire.
The handsome houses which adorned the quay were in ruins, literally shelled
out. Many of the churches were destroyed, the cathedral dome was laid open,
and the convent and garden of the Ursulines were torn up by the falling bombs.
The nuns had dispersed, some taking refuge at the General Hospital, going
sadly from their cloistered schoolrooms and little ones to the sad hospital
wards, now filled with the wounded and dying, and where their services were
needed by night and by day. Mercèdes with Marthe had found refuge in their old
rooms, and had taken with them Charles Langlade’s boy. They had managed to
inform the father of this, and he had sent back word entreating them to guard
the child, as Nadjii’s father Ominipeg--the “Black Eagle,” as he was
surnamed--was seeking for him, fearful lest he should fall a prisoner into the
hands of the English.
Charles himself had to feign ignorance of the child’s whereabouts, so as not
to rouse the chief’s anger at a moment when his services were so requisite;
therefore he commended the boy to their care until such time as he could send
for or fetch him, and they accepted the charge, and from henceforth kept him
concealed, never leaving him.
When Roger quitted General Wolfe’s presence, he was determined at any risk to
discover something, let it be what it might, which would enable the English to
reach the French. He was heartily sick of the war; the ruined homesteads, the
misery he saw at home and abroad, and the many hardships he himself had
endured, made him long for peace, almost at any price.
If Wolfe set sail for England it would all have to be begun over again. The
Indians, encouraged by the French Government, would once more commit
depredations on the frontier settlements, and rapine and ruin would ensue; and
then with the spring the war would be renewed. No, much as he might regret the
alternative, he felt that either the English must conquer, or they must be so
beaten as to allow of no return. It was France or England.
There was very little difference between the Rangers’ dress and that of the
Canadian scouts. The militia had a sort of uniform, but it was never very
strictly adhered to; especially as time went on, and the difficulty of
procuring materials of any sort increased.
The French guarded the river banks, and it would require great skill to land;
yet that night, after sunset, a boat ran along the coast, and when the
sentries challenged it, the answer seemed satisfactory; for it passed on up
the river towards Quebec, without apparently attempting to avoid observation.
One or two shots were fired at it from English ships, but in the darkness they
evidently missed it, for the boat shot past and suddenly disappeared in a sort
of cove, on either side of which high cliffs rose almost perpendicularly.
Roger had been absent four days. It was the evening of the 11th of September.
Autumn was settling down over the land, to be succeeded by the bitter Canadian
winter.
“He’s failed, probably been killed; he’d have been back before now if he had
discovered anything,” said Wolfe, in a voice of hopeless despair, standing on
the foredeck of the _Sutherland_. John Jervis, Earl of St. Vincent, and George
Carleton, Lord Dorchester, the friends of his boyhood, were beside him.
“You have no right to speak so positively. It is only four days since he
started, and a man like Roger is certain to have taken his precautions; he is
not likely easily to allow himself to be trapped,” said the former; and even
while he spoke a shrill whistle fell on their ears, and, looking down, they
saw a canoe with an Indian in it lying close under the bulwarks.
“It’s he!” said Lord Dorchester; and a few seconds later Roger stood in their
midst.
“Well, any news?” said Wolfe, coming forward.
“I should not be here now if I had none,” said Roger, in a low voice; “but
first let me take off these trappings and give me some food. I have touched
nothing for twenty-four hours, and then only a crust of bread.”
“Come into my cabin,” said Wolfe, and he led the way.
Half an hour later the chief officers on board the _Sutherland_ were summoned
to the General’s cabin.
Wolfe was walking up and down, two deep red spots on his pale thin cheeks, his
eyes glittering.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “Captain Roger will tell you what he has seen and heard.
You will judge whether the plan he proposes be possible; myself I tell you at
once that, notwithstanding all the apparent difficulties, I consider it the
only thing open for us to attempt; there is a possible chance of success. Will
you explain your plan, Captain?”
“It is not necessary for me to tell you,” said Roger, “how I came by the facts
I am going to lay before you, and from them to the conception of a plan which,
though desperate, is in itself simple. You saw my disguise. I have assumed
several during the last few days, by means of which, and by my knowledge of
Indian and Canadian habits, I have managed to approach the different camps,
and at last penetrated even into Quebec. Here, by means of bribery, I
succeeded in being introduced into Captain Vergor’s own quarters on the
heights overlooking Quebec, and can now assure you from personal evidence
that, fully persuaded of their secure position, they are left practically
unguarded. The officer in command goes quietly to bed, and has, moreover,
weakened his guards by allowing the Canadians to go home to their villages to
help get in their harvest.”
“But, taking all this for granted,” said Lord St. Vincent, “we have still
those heights to scale before we can dislodge even so poor a watch.”
“I am coming to that,” said Roger. “Food is not only lacking in Quebec, but
the soldiers in camp are absolutely without bread, or even flour. The
commissariat declared yesterday it could distribute no further rations. You
may imagine the effect of this; but they were buoyed up with the assurance
that a number of boats are coming from Quebec to the camp with provisions.
Where these boats land, we can,” said Roger, “and I discovered that the spot
fixed upon is the Anse de Foulon, the old smuggling cove. Last night,
disguised as an Indian, I paddled into it, accompanied by a man I have sworn
not to name. He pointed out to me what he called a path, and then left me in
terror lest we should be surprised. The moon was fitful, if you remember, last
night; nevertheless, it sufficed me to discover what we want. It is a steep,
precipitous ascent; half-way up trees have been felled and laid across,
forming a thick abattis; then there is a deep gap some ten feet across and six
feet deep; after this the road widens out, and though the ascent is steep, it
is comparatively easy. I will undertake to lead a body of men to the top
to-morrow night, if you consent. We shall take Vergor and his guard by
surprise; and when this is accomplished you can land your troops under cover
of night, and by morning you can range them in order of battle on the heights
overlooking Quebec.”
“Land a whole army! It is incredible!” said Lord St. Vincent. “Allowing that
the path be unguarded, there are sentries all along the river.”
“But they are expecting their own provision boats,” said Wolfe. “If our boats
go down in advance, they may easily mistake us for them in the darkness. Howe,
will you take the lead with Captain Roger? He will show you the way.”
“Certainly I will,” said Colonel Howe. “I have implicit confidence in the
Captain. Give us a score of men, and we will see if we cannot reach the top
and dislodge a parcel of sleepy Frenchmen;” and he laughed lightly, as if he
had been proposing a pleasure party.
“Then, gentlemen, that is settled; to-morrow night we make the attempt,” said
Wolfe, in a decided voice. “Captain Roger, you had better turn in and take a
good long rest,” and he held out his hand to Roger.
“Thank you, I shall be all the better for a good sleep;” then, turning to
Colonel Howe, he added, “Unless I am very much mistaken, Colonel, you and I
shall see the sun rise over Quebec the day after to-morrow. I am glad it
should be so.”
“So am I,” answered the Colonel heartily, and they shook hands.
“I think we are all glad,” said several voices.
“Even if it be the dawn of my last day on earth, I shall greet it with
thankfulness,” said Wolfe, and the council broke up for a few hours.