CHAPTER XII.

We must leave Wolfe for a while to take a brief review of the position of affairs in his enemy's camp. Montcalm's difficulties were also great. He knew not where to turn for a ray of hope, except, indeed, to the now rapidly advancing winter. The toils were spread on every side: the stately fleet riding below the town cut off all supplies from France; the fall of Niagara and Fort of Frontenac broke off the chain of communication with the distant West; Amherst, with an overwhelming force, hung over the weakest point of the Canadian frontier; Montreal, with neither army nor fortification, lay exposed to the British advance. But, worst of all, distrust of his colleague, and contempt of the prowess of his militia, paralyzed Montcalm's vigor and destroyed his confidence. "You have sold your country," exclaimed he, in uncontrollable indignation, to M. de Vaudreuil, when the latter opposed his views; "but, while I live, I will not deliver it up." And of the Canadian levies he writes to M. de Berryer, "My Canadians without discipline, deaf to the sound of the drum, and badly armed, nothing remains for them but to fly; and behold me--beaten without resource!" "But," continued he, in the same remarkable letter,[181] "of one thing I can assure you, I shall not survive the probable loss of the colony. There are times when a general's only resource is to die with honor; this is such a time. No stain shall rest on my memory. But in defeat and death there is consolation left. The loss of the colony will one day be of more value to my country than a victory. The conqueror shall here find a tomb; his aggrandizement shall prove his ultimate ruin."

Montcalm's utmost exertions failed to prevent desertion among the Canadians; he scourged some offenders, hanged others, threatened their villages with the vengeance of the savages, but still the unhappy peasantry were with difficulty held together. At the camp they were badly supplied with provisions, while their families almost starved at home. Their harvest, that which the English had not destroyed, remained unreaped. At length the general was obliged to yield to the urgent necessity of the case, and at a most critical period of the campaign he allowed 2000 of the militia to depart for the purpose of getting in their crops.

The Indians, however, still remained faithful: as long as a chance of blood and plunder offered, they were sure to be present; but in a pitched battle they were nearly useless, and the increased experience of the British troops rendered even their forest warfare now less dangerous.

Not only provisions, but even ammunition, were becoming scarce in Montcalm's camp: there was no hope of supplies from any quarter. The Lower Town and a large portion of the Upper Town were laid in ruins by the English artillery: the defenses, it was true, still remained uninjured; but, except in natural advantages, they were by no means formidable. The repulse of the besiegers at Montmorency had for a time raised the spirits of the French, and given them a better opinion of Canadian prowess, for upon that occasion the peasantry had fired with great steadiness from behind their breast-works. But the daring though misdirected valor of the British Grenadiers, and the imposing front of their supports, failed not to confirm Montcalm's deep forebodings of the probable result of a battle. Then the incessant activity of the invaders, their pertinacious retention of any point which offered an apparent advantage, and their seemingly inexhaustible resources, showed that no stone would be left unturned for his destruction.

One only hope remained to the French general: the winter approached. In a few weeks the northern blast would scare away the stubborn enemy, against whom his arms and skill were ineffectual. Could he struggle on a little longer, the fate of Canada might be thrown upon the chances of another campaign, and a turn in European affairs yet preserve the splendid colony of France. "Unless Wolfe lands above the town, and forces me to a battle, I am safe," writes Montcalm. But while, on the night of the 12th of September, he watched in confident expectation the deceitful preparations of the fleet below the town, the ebbing tide silently floated down the British army toward that position the occupation of which he knew must be his ruin.

Silently and swiftly, unchallenged by the French sentries,[182] Wolfe's flotilla dropped down the stream in the shade of the overhanging cliffs. The rowers scarcely stirred the waters with their oars; the soldiers sat motionless. Not a word was spoken save by the young general; he, as a midshipman on board his boat afterward related,[183] repeated, in a low voice to the officers by his side, "Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard;" and as he concluded the beautiful verses, said, "Now, gentlemen, I would rather be the author of that poem than take Quebec!" But while Wolfe thus, in the poet's words, gave vent to the intensity of his feelings, his eye was constantly bent upon the dark outline of the heights under which he hurried past. He recognized at length the appointed spot, and leaped ashore. Some of the leading boats, conveying the light company of the 78th Highlanders, had in the mean time been carried about 200 yards lower down by the strength of the tide. These Highlanders, under Captain Donald M'Donald, were the first to land. Immediately over their heads hung a woody precipice, without path or track upon its rocky face; at the summit a French sentinel marched to and fro, still unconscious of their presence. Without a moment's hesitation, M'Donald and his men dashed at the height. They scrambled up, holding on by rocks and branches of trees, guided only by the stars that shone over the top of the cliff; half the ascent was already won, when for the first time "Qui vive?" broke the silence of the night. "La France," answered the Highland captain, with ready self-possession, and the sentry shouldered his musket and pursued his round. In a few minutes, however, the rustling of the trees close at hand at length alarmed the French guard; they hastily turned out, fired one irregular volley down the precipice, and fled in panic. The captain, M. de Vergor, alone, though wounded, stood his ground. When summoned to surrender, he fired at one of the assailants, but was instantly overpowered; the Highlanders, incensed at his vain valor, tore from his breast a decoration which he bore, and sent him a prisoner to the rear. In the mean time, nearly 500 men landed and made their way up the height; those who had first reached the summit then took possession of the intrenched post at the top of that path which Wolfe had selected for the ascent of his army.

Wolfe, Monckton, and Murray landed with the first division; as fast as each boat was cleared, it put back for re-enforcements to the ships, which had now also floated down with the tide nearly opposite to the point of disembarkation. The battalions formed on the narrow beach at the foot of the winding path, and, as soon as completed, each ascended the cliff, when they again formed upon the plains above. There all was quiet; the Light Infantry, under Lieutenant-colonel Howe, brother of the gallant Lord Howe who fell at Ticonderoga, had driven away the enemy's pickets. The boats plied busily; company after company was quickly landed, and, as soon as the men touched the shore, they swarmed up the steep ascent with ready alacrity. When morning broke, the whole disposable force of Wolfe's army stood in firm array upon the table-land above the cove. Only one gun, however, could be carried up the hill, and even that was not got into position without incredible difficulty.

After a few minutes' anxious observation of the face of the country, Wolfe marched the army by files to the right in the direction of the city, leaving two companies of the 58th Regiment to guard the landing place; he then formed his line of battle upon the Plains of Abraham, and resolved there to cast the die for Canada. The 35th Regiment held the extreme right over the precipice, at the distance of three quarters of a mile from the ramparts, where, to adapt themselves to the shape of a slight elevation which rises from the plains, they were ranged in a semicircle on its slope. Next came the Grenadiers of Louisburg. The 28th prolonged the line to the 43d, which formed the center. The 58th, upon the left, occupied the brow of the ridge which overlooks the Valley of the St. Charles; the 78th Highlanders extended over the plain to the right, and the 47th completed the front to the place where the 43d were formed. Wolfe, with Monckton, commanded the right of the first line, Murray the left.

Townshend took charge of the second line. The 15th Regiment rested their right flank upon the precipice over the river; the two battalions of the 60th or Royal Americans held the plains to the left. Colonel Burton, with the 48th Regiment, in four columns of two companies each, formed the reserve in a third line, and Colonel Howe, with the Light Infantry, some in houses, others in the neighboring coppices, covered the flank and rear.

At about six o'clock some small parties of the enemy appeared upon the slopes under the ramparts of the city; at seven they mustered in greater force, and brought up two field-guns, which caused some annoyance. Shortly afterward they threw a body of Canadians and Indians into the brushwood on the face of the precipice over the river, into a field of corn in front of the 35th Regiment, and into a coppice opposite the British center: those skirmishers caused considerable mischief, but were speedily routed by Colonel Howe, with a detachment of the 47th. The whole line then received orders to lie upon their arms, while Light Infantry videttes covered their position at some distance in advance.

Meanwhile Montcalm had been completely deceived by the demonstrations of the fleet below the town. Through the whole of that anxious night boats were approaching the shore and again retiring, on various points of the line between the Montmorency and the St. Charles. The English ships of war had worked up as near as they could find depth of water, and their guns played incessantly upon the beach, as if to prepare the way for a debarkation. Day broke before Montcalm even suspected that another struggle awaited him on his eastern lines; then, however, a stray cannon shot, and the distant echo of musketry from above the town, caught his ear; while he yet doubled, a horseman reached him at full speed with tidings that the English had landed on the Plains of Abraham. The news spread like lightning through the Canadian camp. Aids-de-camp galloped to and fro in fiery haste: trumpets and drums aroused the sleeping soldiery. As fast as the battalions could be mustered, they were hurried across the Valley of the St. Charles, over the bridge, and along the front of the northern ramparts of Quebec to the battle ground. M. de Vaudreuil, with some Canadian militia, were left to guard the lines.

Under some mysterious and incomprehensible impulse, Montcalm at once determined to meet his dangerous enemy in the open field.

To account for this extraordinary resolution is impossible. Had the French general thrown himself into Quebec, he might have securely defied his assailants from behind its ramparts till winter drove them away. But a short time before he had recorded his deliberate conviction that he could not face the British army in a general engagement. He was well aware that all the efforts of his indefatigable enemy had been throughout exerted to bring on an action upon any terms; and yet at length, on an open plain, without even waiting for his artillery, unaided by any advantage of position, he threw the rude Canadian militia against the veterans of England. Once, and once only, in a successful and illustrious career, did this gallant Frenchman forget his wisdom and military skill; but that one tremendous error led him to defeat and death.

Even when the alarming news of Wolfe's landing reached Montcalm, he professed confidence--confidence which he could not have felt. When the position of the English army was pointed out to him, he said, "Yes, I see them where they ought not to be;" and he afterward added, "If we must fight, I will crush them." He, however, altogether failed to communicate to the Canadian troops the sanguine spirit which he himself professed.

At eight o'clock the heads of French columns began to appear ascending the hill from the St. Charles to the Plains of Abraham; the only piece of artillery which Wolfe had been able to bring into action then opened with some effect, and caused them slightly to alter their line of march. As they arrived, they formed in three separate masses upon a slope to the northwest of the city, where they were sheltered from the solitary but mischievous gun.

At nine o'clock, Montcalm moved some distance to the front, and developed his line of battle; at the same time, M. de Bougainville, who was hastening down the left bank of the St. Lawrence, made a demonstration with some light cavalry upon Wolfe's extreme left. Townshend checked this movement by throwing the third battalion of the 60th into a line extending from the threatened flank to the post over the landing place.

Montcalm was already worsted as a general; it was, however, still left him to fight as a soldier. His order of battle was steadily and promptly arrayed. The center column, under Montcalm in person, consisted of the regiments of Bearne and Guienne, numbering together no more than 720 bayonets; with them were formed 1200 of the Canadian militia. On the right stood the regiments of La Sarre and Languedoc, and a battalion of the marine or colony troops, in all 1600 veterans; 400 of the militia, with one light field-piece, completed this wing. On the left, the Royal Roussillon and a battalion of the Marine mustered 1300 bayonets, while these disciplined regiments were supported by no less than 2300 of the Canadian levies. The total force, therefore, actually engaged, amounted to 7520 men, besides Indians; of these, however, not more than one half were regular troops: it was on them the brunt of the battle fell, and almost the whole loss. Wolfe's "field state" on the morning of the 13th of September, showed only 4828 men of all ranks from the generals downward, but of these every man was a trained soldier.

The French attacked. At about ten o'clock a crowd of Canadians and Indians emerged from the bush on the slope which falls toward the Valley of the St. Charles; as they advanced they opened fire upon the English pickets of the extreme left, and drove them into their supports. Under cover of the cloud of smoke which rose above the scene of this attack, the French veterans of the right wing passed swiftly round the left of Murray's Brigade, and turned his flank; then, throwing aside their irregulars, they fell upon Howe's Light Infantry. This gallant officer felt the importance of his post: the houses and the line of coppice which he occupied formed almost a right angle with the front of the British army, covering it in flank and rear. He was hardly pressed; his men fell fast under the overpowering fire of the French; but, in a few minutes, Townshend, with the 15th, came to his aid: soon afterward the two battalions of the 60th joined the line, and turned the tide of battle.

In the mean time swarms of skirmishers advanced against the right and center of the British army; their stinging fire immediately dislodged the few Light Infantry which Wolfe had posted in his front, and forced them back in confusion upon the main body. This first impression was not without danger: the troops who were in the rear, and could not see the real state of affairs, became alarmed at the somewhat retrograde movements in front. Wolfe perceived this: he hurried along the line, cheered the men by his voice and presence, and admonished them on no account to fire without orders. He succeeded: confidence was restored.

The spirited advance of the skirmishers was but the mask of a more formidable movement. The whole of the French center and left, with loud shouts and arms at the recover, now bore down to the attack. Their light troops then ceased firing and passed to the rear. As the view cleared, their long, unbroken lines were seen rapidly approaching Wolfe's position. When they reached within 150 yards, they advanced obliquely from the left of each formation, so that the lines assumed the appearance of columns, and chiefly threatened the British right. And now from flank to flank of the assailing battalions rolled a murderous and incessant fire. The 35th and the Grenadiers fell fast. Wolfe, at the head of the 28th, was struck in the wrist, but not disabled. Wrapping a handkerchief round the wound, he hastened from one rank to another, exhorting the men to be steady and to reserve their fire. No English soldier pulled a trigger: with matchless endurance they sustained the trial. Not a company wavered; their arms shouldered as if on parade, and motionless, save when they closed up the ghastly gaps, they waited the word of command.

When the head of the French attack had reached within forty yards, Wolfe gave the order to "fire." At once the long row of muskets was leveled, and a volley, distinct as a single shot, flashed from the British line. For a moment the advancing columns still pressed on, shivering like pennons in the fatal storm; but a few paces told how terrible had been the force of the long-suspended blow. Numbers of the French soldiers reeled and fell; some staggered on for a little, then dropped silently aside to die; others burst from the ranks shrieking in agony. The Brigadier de St. Ours was struck dead, and De Senezergues, the second in command, was left mortally wounded upon the field. When the breeze carried away the dense clouds of smoke, the assailing battalions stood reduced to mere groups among the bodies of the slain. Never before or since has a deadlier volley burst from British infantry.

Montcalm commanded the attack in person. Not fifteen minutes had elapsed since he had first moved on his line of battle, and already all was lost! The Canadian militia, with scarcely an exception, broke and fled. The right wing, which had recoiled before Townshend and Howe, was overpowered by a counter attack of the 58th and 78th; his veteran battalions of Bearne and Guienne were shattered before his eyes under the British fire; on the left the Royal Roussillon was shrunk to a mere skeleton, and, deserted by their Provincial allies, could hardly retain the semblance of a formation. But the gallant Frenchman, though ruined, was not dismayed; he rode through the broken ranks, cheered them with his voice, encouraged them by his dauntless bearing, and, aided by a small redoubt, even succeeded in once again presenting a front to his enemy.

Meanwhile Wolfe's troops had reloaded. He seized the opportunity of the hesitation in the hostile ranks, and ordered the whole British line to advance. At first they moved forward in majestic regularity, receiving and paying back with deadly interest the volleys of the French. But soon the ardor of the soldiers broke through the restraints of discipline: they increased their pace to a run, rushing over the dying and the dead, and sweeping the living enemy off their path. On the extreme right, the 35th, under the gallant Colonel Fletcher, carried all before them, and won the white plume which for half a century afterward they proudly bore.[184] Wolfe himself led the 28th and the diminished ranks of the Louisburg Grenadiers, who that day nobly redeemed their error at Montmorency. The 43d, as yet almost untouched, pressed on in admirable order, worthy of their after-fame in that noble Light Division which "never gave a foot of ground but by word of command." On the left, the 58th and 78th overcame a stubborn and bloody resistance; more than 100 of the Highlanders fell dead and wounded; the weak battalion by their side lost a fourth part of their strength in the brief struggle. Just now Wolfe was a second time wounded, in the body; but he dissembled his suffering, for his duty was not yet accomplished. Again a ball from the redoubt struck him on the breast:[185] he reeled on one side, but, at the moment, this was not generally observed. "Support me," said he to a Grenadier officer who was close at hand, "that my brave fellows may not see me fall." In a few seconds, however, he sank, and was borne a little to the rear. Colonel Carleton was desperately wounded in the head at a few paces from Wolfe; the aid-de-camp who hastened for Monckton, to call him to the command, found him also bleeding on the field, beside the 47th Regiment. At length Townshend, now the senior officer, was brought from the left flank to this bloody scene to lead the army.

The brief struggle fell heavily upon the British, but was ruinous to the French. They wavered under the carnage; the columns which death had disordered were soon broken and scattered. Montcalm, with a courage that rose above the wreck of hope, galloped through the groups of his stubborn veterans, who still made head against the advancing enemy, and strove to show a front of battle. His efforts were vain; the head of every formation was swept away before that terrible musketry; in a few minutes, the French gave way in all directions. Just then their gallant general fell with a mortal wound: from that time all was utter rout.

The English followed fiercely in the pursuit; the 47th and 58th, with fixed bayonets, pressed on close to the St. Louis and St. John's gates, till the first were checked by grape-shot from the ramparts, and the latter by the artillery of the hulks which were grounded in the river. But foremost in the advance, and most terrible to the flying enemy, were the 78th Highlanders; active and impetuous in their movements, and armed with the broadsword, they supplied in this case the want of cavalry to the British army. Numbers of the French fell beneath their vigorous blows;[186] others saved themselves by timely surrender, piteously craving mercy, and declaring that they had not been at Fort William Henry.[187] The remainder of Montcalm's right wing only found shelter beyond the bridge over the St. Charles. The survivors of the right and center soon placed the ramparts of Quebec between themselves and their pursuers.

While some of the British battalions were disordered in the rapid advance, a body of about 800 French and Canadians collected in a coppice near the St. Charles, and assumed a somewhat threatening appearance on the left flank of the pursuers. Perceiving this, Townshend ordered Colonel Hunt Walsh, with the 28th and 43d, to crush the new resistance. These two battalions were well in hand; Walsh wheeled them promptly to the left, and, after a sharp struggle, cleared the coppice.

The battle was now over, but the general of the victorious army had still to guard against another antagonist, as yet untouched and unbroken. It has been related, that, before the commencement of the action, the extreme left of the British position had been threatened by some light cavalry--the advance guard of De Bougainville's formidable corps. The main body and their chief had now arrived upon the scene; but, so rapid and complete had been the ruin of Montcalm's army, that his lieutenant found not a single unbroken company remaining in the field with which to co-operate. He himself, however, was still strong; besides 350 cavalry--an arm in which the invaders were altogether deficient--he had with him nearly 1500 men, a large proportion of whom were Grenadiers and Light Infantry.

Townshend hastened to recall his disordered battalions, but he determined not to imperil the victory by seeking another engagement with fresh troops. His arrangements were strictly defensive; while re-forming a line of battle, he dispatched the 35th and the 48th with two field-pieces to meet De Bougainville, and, if possible, check his advance. The demonstration sufficed; the French soldiers, demoralized by the defeat of their general-in-chief, were in no condition to meet a victorious enemy; they recoiled before the resolute front of the British force, and retreated with precipitation up the left bank of the St. Lawrence. There Townshend did not deem it prudent to follow; the ground was swampy, and, for the most part, still covered with the primeval forest, affording every advantage to a retreating enemy.

As soon as the action was over, Townshend began to intrench his camp, and to widen the road up the cliff for the convenience of the artillery and stores. De Bougainville did not halt till he reached Cape Rouge, and M. de Vaudreuil,[188] with his 1500 Canadians, deserted the lines west of the Montmorency, left all his artillery, ammunition, tents, and stores behind him, and made a hurried retreat toward Jacques Cartier.

The loss of the English in this memorable battle amounted to 55 killed and 607 wounded of all ranks; that of the French has never been clearly ascertained, but it was not probably less than 1500 in killed and wounded and prisoners. Moreover, a very large proportion of the Canadian militia dispersed and never rejoined their colors. On the British side, the Louisburg Grenadiers upon the right, and the 58th and 78th upon the left, suffered the most severely. The five regular French battalions were almost destroyed, and one of the two pieces of artillery which they had brought into action was captured by the victors.[189]

While the British troops were carrying all before them, their young general's life was ebbing fast away. When struck for the third time, he sank down; he then supported himself for a few minutes in a sitting posture, with the assistance of Lieutenant Brown, Mr. Henderson, a volunteer, and a private soldier, all of the Grenadier company of the 22d; Colonel Williamson, of the Royal Artillery, afterward went to his aid. From time to time, Wolfe tried, with his faint hand, to clear away the death-mist that gathered on his sight; but the effort seemed vain; for presently he lay back, and gave no signs of life beyond a heavy breathing and an occasional groan. Meantime the French had given way, and were flying in all directions. The grenadier officers, seeing this, called out to those around him, "See, they run." The words caught the ear of the dying man; he raised himself, like one aroused from sleep, and asked eagerly, "Who runs?" "The enemy, sir," answered the officer: "they give way every where." "Go one of you to Colonel Burton," said Wolfe: "tell him to march Webbe's (the 48th) regiment with all speed down to the St. Charles River, to cut off the retreat." His voice grew faint as he spoke, and he turned as if seeking an easier position on his side; when he had given this last order, he seemed to feel that he had done his duty, and added feebly, but distinctly, "Now, God be praised, I die happy." His eyes then closed, and, after a few convulsive movements, he became still.[190] Despite the anguish of his wounds, he died happy; for through the mortal shades that fell upon his soul, there rose, over the unknown world's horizon, the dawn of an eternal morning.

"GENERAL ORDERS.

"_14th of September, 1759. Plains of Abraham._

"Parole--WOLFE. Countersign--ENGLAND.

"The remaining general officers fit to act take the earliest opportunity to express the praise which is due to the conduct and bravery of the troops; and the victory, which attended it, sufficiently proves the superiority which this army has over any number of such troops as they engaged yesterday. They wish that the person who lately commanded them had survived so glorious a day, and had this day been able to give the troops their just encomiums. The fatigues which the troops will be obliged to undergo, to reap the advantage of this victory, will be supported with a true spirit, as this seems to be the period which will determine, in all probability, our American labors."

Deep and sincere was the sorrow of the English army for the loss of their chief; they almost grieved over their dearly-purchased victory.

Late on the evening of the 14th of September Montcalm also died. When his wound was first examined, he asked the surgeon if it was mortal; and being answered that it was, he said, "I am glad of it: how long can I survive?" "Perhaps a day, perhaps less," replied the surgeon. "So much the better," rejoined Montcalm; "I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec." When his wound was dressed, M. de Ramsay, the governor of the city, visited him, and desired to receive his commands for the defense; but he refused to occupy himself any longer with worldly affairs: "My time is very short," continued he, "so pray leave me. I wish you all comfort, and to be happily extricated from your present perplexities." He then called for his chaplain, who, with the bishop of the colony, administered the last offices of religion, and remained with him till he expired.

An officer of the 43d regiment, whose carefully-kept journal furnishes much valuable information on the subject of this campaign, states that Montcalm paid the English army the following compliment after the battle: "Since it was my misfortune to be discomfited and mortally wounded, it is a great consolation to me to be vanquished by so great and generous an enemy. If I could survive this wound, I would engage to beat three times the number of such forces as I commanded this morning with a third of their number of British troops."

Townshend, on the day succeeding the battle, busied himself incessantly in pushing on works against the city, and cutting off from the besieged all communication with the country. On the 17th, Admiral Saunders moved the whole of the British fleet into the basin, and prepared to attack the Lower Town; and by that evening no less than sixty-one pieces of heavy, and fifty-seven of light ordnance, were mounted on the British batteries and ready to open fire. The besieged had endeavored to retard these proceedings by constantly plying all their available guns, but did not succeed in inflicting any annoyance of importance. Before nightfall, an officer, bearing a flag of truce, approached the English camp, and was conducted to the general; to him he gave the governor, M. de Ramsay's, proposition to surrender if not relieved by the following morning.

In the mean time, M. de Vaudreuil, who had, with his disorganized followers, joined De Bougainville at Cape Rouge on the evening of the 13th, dispatched a courier to M. de Levi,[191] at Montreal, with tidings of the disaster, and to require his immediate presence to command the army in Montcalm's room. This done, the marquis summoned his principal officers to a council of war, and gave his opinion "that they should take their revenge on the morrow, and endeavor to wipe off the disgrace of that fatal day." But this bold proposition met with no more support in the council than it really possessed in De Vaudreuil's own mind. The officers were unanimously of opinion "that there was an absolute necessity for the army to retire to Jacques Cartier, and that no time should be lost." In consequence of this decision, the French immediately resumed their retreat, leaving every thing behind them, and marched all night to gain Point aux Trembles, which was fixed as the rendezvous of the whole remaining force.

On the receipt of the disastrous news of Montcalm's defeat and death, M. de Levi instantly departed from Montreal to take the command of the shattered army. On the 16th he arrived; after a few hours' conference with the Marquis de Vaudreuil, it was agreed to send the following message to M. de Ramsay: "We exhort you, by all means, to hold out to the last extremity. On the 18th the whole army shall be in motion: a disposition is made to throw in a large supply of provisions, and to relieve the town." The courier reached the besieged early on the 18th, but it was too late; the governor was already in treaty with Townshend, and on that morning, the 18th day of September, 1759, QUEBEC SURRENDERED.[192] In the evening the keys of the city were delivered up, and the Louisburg Grenadiers marched in, preceded by a detachment of artillery and one gun, with the British flag hoisted on a staff upon the carriage: this flag was then placed upon the highest point of the citadel. Captain Palliser, of the navy, with a body of seamen, at the same time took possession of the Lower Town.

The news of these great events reached England but two days later than Wolfe's discouraging dispatch of the 9th of September;[193] an extraordinary Gazette was immediately published and circulated throughout the country, and a day of thanksgiving was appointed by proclamation through all the dominions of Great Britain.

"Then the sounds of joy and grief from her people wildly rose:"

never, perhaps, have triumph and lamentation been so strangely intermingled. Astonishment and admiration at the splendid victory, with sorrow for the loss of the gallant victor, filled every breast. Throughout all the land were illuminations and public rejoicings, except in the little Kentish village of Westerham, where Wolfe was born, and where his widowed mother[194] now mourned her only child.

Wolfe's body was embalmed, and borne to the river for conveyance to England. The army escorted it in solemn state to the beach: they mourned their young general's death as sincerely as they had followed him in battle bravely. Their attachment to him had softened their toils, their confidence in him had cheered them in disasters, and his loss now turned their triumph into sadness. When his remains arrived at Plymouth they were landed with the highest honors; minute guns were fired; the flags were hoisted half-mast high, and an escort, with arms reversed, received the coffin on the shore. He was then conveyed to Greenwich, and buried beside his father, who had died but a few months before.

The House of Commons, on the motion of Mr. Pitt, unanimously voted that a monument should be erected to Wolfe's memory in Westminster Abbey[195] at the public expense. The monument was accordingly executed, and inscribed with a eulogistic memorial in Latin. Not many years since, a pillar was erected by Lord Dalhousie, on a lofty situation in the city of Quebec, to Wolfe and Montcalm, bearing a remarkably graceful Latin inscription by Dr. Fisher, of Quebec. Lord Aylmer has also placed a small and simple monument on the Plains of Abraham, on which the date and the following words only are engraved:

"HERE WOLFE DIED VICTORIOUS."

[Footnote 181: See Appendix, No. LXXII.]

[Footnote 182: "The following circumstance had nearly proved fatal to the general's scheme of landing where he did. In the twilight of the evening preceding the battle, two French deserters from the Regiment of La Sarre came in, and, being carried on board a ship of war, commanded by Captain Smith, then lying near the north shore, gave information that that very night the garrison of Quebec expected a convoy of provisions from M. de Bougainville's detachment, which was higher up the river. These deserters, some time after, perceiving the English boats gliding down the river in the dark, supposed them to be the expected convoy; and on this a noise ensued, which General Wolfe fortunately heard time enough to prevent the resolution which occasioned it; for Captain Smith, not having been informed of the general's intentions, was making preparations to fire into the boats, believing that they were the convoy the deserters had been speaking of; and had he done so, would have not only considerably hurt his friends, but sufficiently alarmed the French to frustrate the attempt. Again, the French sentries posted along the shore were in expectation of the convoy, and, therefore, when the English boats came near their posts, and properly answered their usual challenge, they suffered them to pass without the least suspicion."--Mante's _History of the Late Wars in America_, p. 262.]

[Footnote 183: Graham's _History of the United States_, vol. iv., p. 51.]

[Footnote 184: "At the late presentation of colors to the 30th Regiment, in Dublin garrison, on the 21st of July, 1834, their colonel-in-chief, Lieutenant-general Sir John Oswald, G.C.B., mentioned in the course of his address, that when he first joined the regiment in 1791, he found in it several of the companions of Wolfe. The colonel-in-chief was Fletcher, of a distinguished Scottish family. He led the 35th, under General Wolfe, through the surf of Louisburg, placed them first after the British Grenadiers in line on the Plains of Abraham, and there, during the contest, charging the French Grenadiers, carried off the _white plume_ which for half a century this battalion bore. His majesty, George III., was so pleased with Colonel Fletcher's conduct, that when a lieutenant-colonel of only four years' standing, he gave him the colonelcy-in-chief."--_Picture of Quebec._]

[Footnote 185: When Wolfe was shot, "The Treasury of Fortification," by John Barker, Esq., was found in his pocket. On the spare leaf is written, in his own hand-writing, "This is an exceeding book of Fortification.--WOLFE." This book is now in the Royal Artillery Library at Woolwich.]

[Footnote 186: "Ewen Cameron, a Highlander, killed nine Frenchmen, two being officers. When his sword-arm was carried off by a shot, he seized a bayonet and wounded several men, but a bullet in his throat slew him."--Letter from an Officer in Lascelles's Regiment, Quebec, 20th September, 1759; _Gentleman's Mag._, 1759, p. 553.]

[Footnote 187: "There is one incident very remarkable, and which I can affirm from my own personal knowledge, that the enemy were extremely apprehensive of being rigorously treated; for, conscious of their inhuman behavior to our troops upon a former occasion, the officers who fell into our hands, most piteously, with hats off, sued for quarter, repeatedly declaring they were not at Fort William Henry (by them called Fort St. George) in the year 1757."--Knox's _Historical Journal_, vol. ii., p. 72.]

[Footnote 188: "Had he (M. de Vaudreuil) fallen into our hands, our men were determined to scalp him, he having been the chief and blackest author of the cruelties exercised on our countrymen. Some of his letters were taken, in which he explicitly and basely said that 'Peace was the best time for making war on the English.'"--Walpole's _Memoirs of George II._, p. 387.]

[Footnote 189: "Tandis que les Anglais entraient dans Surate a l'embouchure du fleuve Indus, ils prenoient Quebec et tout le Canada au fonds de l'Amerique septentrionale; les troupes qui ont hasarde un combat pour sauver Quebec ont ete battues et presque detruites, malgre les efforts du General Montcalm, tue dans cette journee et tres regrette en France. On a perdu ainsi en un seul jour quinze cents lieues de pays."--Voltaire's _Precis du Siecle de Louis XV._, p. 291.]

[Footnote 190: "The horror of the night, the precipice scaled by Wolfe, the empire he with a handful of men added to England, and the glorious catastrophe of contentedly terminating life where his fame began ... ancient story may be ransacked, and ostentatious philosophy thrown into the account, before an episode can be found to rank with Wolfe's."--Pitt's Speech on the Motion for erecting a Monument to Wolfe, related in Walpole's _Memoirs of George II._, p. 393.]

[Footnote 191: "You know they pique themselves much upon their Jewish name, and call cousins with the Virgin Mary. They have a picture in the family, where she is made to say to the founder of the houses, 'Couvrez-vous, mon cousin.' He replies, 'Non pas, mas tres sainte cousine, je sais trop bien le respect que je vous dois.' There is said to have been another equally absurd picture in the same family, in which Noah is represented going into the ark, carrying under his arm a small trunk, on which was written, 'Papiers de la Maison deLevis.'"--Walpole's _Letters to Sir H. Mann_, August 17th, 1749.]

[Footnote 192: See Appendix, No. LXXI.]

[Footnote 193: "The notification of a probable disappointment at Quebec came only to heighten the pleasure of the conquest. You may now give yourself what airs you please; you are master of East and West Indies. An embassador is the only man in the world whom bullying becomes. I beg your pardon, but you are spies, if you are not bragadocios. All precedents are on your side: Persians, Greeks, Romans, always insulted their neighbors when they had taken Quebec. It was a very singular affair, the generals on both sides slain, and on both sides the second in command wounded--in short, very near what battles should be, in which only the principals ought to suffer. If their army has not ammunition and spirit enough to fall again upon ours before Amherst comes up, all North America is ours! Poetic justice could not have been executed with more rigor than it has been on the perjury, treachery, and usurpations of the French.... It appears that the victory was owing to the impracticability, as the French thought, and to desperate resolution on our side. What a scene! an army in the night dragging itself up a precipice by stumps of trees to assault a town and attack an army strongly intrenched and double in numbers. Adieu! I think I shall not write to you again this twelvemonth; for, like Alexander, we have no more worlds left to conquer.

"P.S.--Monsieur Fleurot is said to be sailed with his tiny squadron; but can the lords of America be afraid of half a dozen canoes? Mr. Chute is sitting by me, and says nobody is more obliged to Mr. Pitt than you are: he has raised you from a very uncomfortable situation to hold your head above the Capitol."--Walpole's _Letters to Sir H. Mann_, October 19, 1759.]

[Footnote 194: "The late Mrs. Wolfe, the mother of the brave general of that name, has very humanely left the residue of her estate and effects, after debts and legacies are paid, to be disposed of among the widows and families of the officers who were employed in the military land service under her son, General Wolfe.

"The executors of the late Mrs. Henrietta Wolfe, mother of the brave General Wolfe, have paid a legacy of L1000, left by her, to the Incorporated Society in Dublin for promoting English Protestant working schools in Ireland."--_Annual Register_, 1765.]

[Footnote 195: See Appendix, No. LXVII.]

CONCLUSION.

On the 18th of October, Admiral Saunders, with the whole fleet--the Race-horse of twenty, and the Porcupine of eighteen guns, excepted--weighed anchor and dropped down the river to Isle aux Coudres, there to await a fair wind to sail for Halifax and England. Brigadier Monckton embarked at the same time for New York, where he soon recovered from his wound, and Brigadier Townshend proceeded direct to London. The government of Quebec was intrusted to Brigadier Murray, with Colonel Burton as lieutenant-governor, and all the soldiers of the several regiments engaged in the campaign, who were still fit for duty, remained to form the garrison: the number of all ranks and arms now only amounted to 7300 men. The sick and wounded, whose recovery was remote or improbable, were sent home with the admiral. Having left a squadron at Halifax, the fleet reached England in safety ere the severity of the winter had set in.

Before the close of the navigation, the French governor and intendant of Canada intrusted their melancholy dispatches to M. Cannon, who succeeded in passing Quebec unobserved, by taking advantage of a favorable wind and a thick fog. Having escaped the many other dangers which beset his voyage, he arrived safely in France. These dispatches were filled with criminations and recriminations: M. de Vaudreuil animadverted bitterly upon M. de Ramsay for his "precipitate surrender" of Quebec, while from other quarters heavy complaints were put forward against M. de Vaudreuil for his retreat, or rather flight, from the lines of Montmorency.

The condition of the once splendid colony of France was now very lamentable. To the east, Quebec; to the west, Niagara; to the south, Crown Point and Ticonderoga--all the strongest positions in the northern continent of America, had passed from their hands in one disastrous campaign. Many of their veteran soldiers had found graves in the land which they had bravely but vainly striven to defend, or had been borne away as prisoners across the Atlantic. Provisions of all kinds were scarce, almost to famine; the prices during winter rose to an enormous height: wheat was commonly sold at 30 or 40 livres a bushel; a cow was worth 900 livres; a pair of oxen, 1500 or 2000; and sheep from 200 to 300 livres apiece. Many people actually died of want; and at length no money would induce the farmers to part with their produce, when life itself depended upon their retaining such supplies as they possessed. The politic Indians were quick to observe the fallen condition of the French, their poverty, and their weakness: a general defection among doubtful allies was the consequence, increased activity of enemies, and a more measured assistance from friends.

As the winter approached, the Chevalier de Levi retreated to Montreal, where he put the greater part of his army into cantonments. He, however, busied himself during that period of forced military inaction in preparations for a bold attempt to wipe out the memory of last year's disasters by the reconquest of Quebec. At the first opening of spring he began to refit such of the shipping as still bore the French flag, repaired the small craft, built galleys, and at Sorel embarked the necessary stores and ammunition, which he had drawn from the depots of St. John's and Chambly. M. de Vaudreuil seconded these exertions by the publication of an address to the Canadian people, representing in a highly colored style the imaginary cruelties and oppressions of the British governor of Quebec. He also endeavored to raise their hopes while he stimulated their animosity. "We have a numerous and gallant army," said he, "and well-grounded assurances of powerful assistance from France." His appeal met with no echo from a starving and discontented people.

During the winter the French made several demonstrations against the British outposts at Point Levi, Cape Rouge, St. Foy, and Lorette, without, however, any result beyond bloodshed and mutually inflicted suffering; but on the 6th of April, M. de Bourlemaque, with three battalions of regular troops and a body of militia, marched from Jacques Cartier upon Cape Rouge, with the hope of surprising the English detachment at that place. His troops lay on their arms that night, with the exception of two companies of Grenadiers, whom he sent to reconnoiter. On their return the main body became alarmed, supposing them to be English troops, and fired among them; the Grenadiers returned the fire, and the disastrous mistake was not discovered until twenty-two of their men were killed and wounded. Before dawn the unlucky expedition returned to their quarters at Jacques Cartier.

On the 17th of April, 1760, De Levi left Montreal with all his available force, and, collecting on his way the several detached corps, arrived in the neighborhood of Cape Rouge with eight battalions of regular troops, recruited to 4500 men, 6000 Canadians, of whom 200 were cavalry and 250 Indians. His heavy artillery, ammunition, and stores, followed his march by the river in bateaux and other vessels.

Meanwhile Murray lost no time in strengthening his position at Quebec. He erected eight timber redoubts outside the works of the city, and armed them with artillery; he broke up the neighboring roads, laid in eleven months' provision, and repaired 500 of the houses, which the English shot had ruined, for quarters for his troops. The outposts which he had established in the country round Quebec proved of considerable advantage: by them his movements were concealed, and those of the enemy watched. The inhabitants of eleven parishes in the vicinity placed themselves under British protection, and swore allegiance to the British crown: they subsequently proved very useful in supplying fresh provisions and firewood for the army to their utmost ability. Nevertheless, Murray's troops were obliged to undergo great hardship in collecting fuel for themselves: no less than a fourth of the whole army had to march ten miles each day, for many successive days, to cut timber in the forests, and numbers of the men were frost-bitten, or sank altogether under the trial. The scurvy raged also with extraordinary violence in the garrison; many fell victims to that dreadful disease; but a decoction of the hemlock spruce, recommended by an old Canadian, was at length successfully employed as a remedy. The severity of the duty and the monotony of the winter proved intolerable to not a few of the British soldiers; designing Frenchmen were at hand to profit by this opportunity; they persuaded many of the soldiers to leave their colors, and the spirit of desertion was not checked till some of those taken in the act were hanged, and their abettors subjected to a like punishment.

When Murray was apprized of the approach of the French army, he marched out on the 27th of April with the whole disposable force to cover the retreat of his advanced posts: in this he succeeded with the loss of only two men. He then broke down all the bridges, and retired into the city the same evening. De Levi crossed the little stream at Cape Rouge, and cantoned his army, upward of 10,000 strong, in and about the village of St. Foy; at nine the following morning he advanced within three miles of Quebec.

The British general, unwarned by Montcalm's fate, formed the unaccountable resolution of giving battle to the French in the open field with his feeble army, which was now reduced by sickness, desertion, and the sword to 3000 available men. In his letter to the Secretary of State reporting the consequent events, he states the following not very conclusive reasons for having taken this unfortunate step: "Well weighing my peculiar position, and well knowing that, in shutting myself up within the walls of the city, I should risk the whole stake on the chance of defending a wretched fortification, which could not be lessened by an action in the field."

At daylight on the 28th of April, Murray marched out to the Plains of Abraham with his ten skeleton battalions and twenty pieces of artillery. His light troops easily drove in those of the French; he then proceeded to form his line of battle. On the right, Colonel Burton led the 15th, the 48th, and the second battalion of the 60th. The center consisted of the 43d and 58th, under Colonel James, and the left of the 28th, 47th, and 78th, under Colonel Fraser. The 35th, and the third battalion of the 60th, formed the reserve. Major Dalling's Light Infantry covered the right flank, and some Volunteers and the Rangers the left. The guns were distributed in the most suitable positions.

When the formations were completed, Murray rode to the front to reconnoiter the enemy's position: he found them occupied in putting their arms, which had been damaged by heavy rains during the night, in order, and in other respects unprepared for action. This seemed to afford a favorable opportunity for striking a blow, and accordingly he returned in all speed, and gave orders to attack without delay. The little army joyfully obeyed, and moved forward in admirable order over the brow of the heights, thence down the slope into the plains beyond.

At first De Levi could not bring himself to believe that the British were abandoning their vantage-ground to grapple with his overwhelming force; but when he perceived their colors still steadily advancing almost within gunshot range, he called his men "to arms." The French hurried together, and formed their front of battle, not, however, without some confusion and alarm. Two companies of Grenadiers were in the mean time pushed forward into the woods above Sillery as a covering party; here they came in collision with the volunteers and Rangers of the British left, and, after a short encounter, they retired leisurely upon the main body. Murray's irregulars, now joined by the Light Infantry, pursued with unlucky zeal: this hasty advance exposed them to the fire of their own artillery, and compelled its silence; finally they were repulsed and broken by the French battalions, which had by that time attained to a steady formation. They then fell to the rear, and showed no more during the combat.

De Levi's army was by this time ranged in battle array. Bourlemaque, with three battalions of Regulars, held the right; the general in person, with a like force, held the left; and M. Dumas, with two battalions, occupied the center. The lines were formed three deep, and in the intervals between the bodies of veteran troops the Canadian levies were formed. Some companies of the Marine or Colony troops, with the Indians, were posted in a wood somewhat in advance of the right of the position. The French had no artillery.

When the flight of the light troops opened the front of battle, a column of French Infantry was seen winding up through the suburbs of St. Roch, so as to threaten Murray's right. Major Morris, with the 35th from the reserve, were quickly called into action, and they checked this movement. But, in the mean time, the British left was altogether over-matched. Fraser, with his brigade, had boldly attacked the French right, and at first gained some advantage, having, by an impetuous charge, driven Bourlemaque from two redoubts; but the superior weight of the enemy's fire soon told upon his weak battalions, and they were speedily reduced to a mere handful of men. The 43d from the center and the 3d battalion of the 60th from the reserve, now came to his aid, and still he bravely held his own ground against the overwhelming numbers of the French. At this critical time the Royal Roussillon from De Levi's center, who had not, as yet, fired a shot, charged in upon the British left, and bore down all resistance. The whole of Fraser's brigade then gave way, and retired in confusion; Burton's men, on the right, already hardly pressed, soon followed; all the artillery was lost; and, had it not been for the firm front presented by the 15th and 58th, the disaster might have proved irreparable. Even as it was, the carnage was almost unexampled in proportion to the numbers engaged: Murray left no less than 300 dead upon the field, and upward of 700 more of his men were wounded.[196]

The triumph of the French was sullied by unusual cruelty to their gallant but unfortunate foes. Quarter was in vain asked by some of the British officers: four of them, being conducted to the officers of the Regiment of La Sarre, were received with a wave of the hand, and "Allez-vous-en," which speedily decided their bloody fate. Of the great number of wounded Englishmen who were unavoidably abandoned in the retreat, twenty-eight only were sent to the hospitals; the rest were given up to glut the rage of the Indians. Murray's artillery, and the steady fire of his veterans, caused the French to purchase victory at a very heavy cost: by their own computation, 1800 of their men were killed and wounded.

De Levi followed up his success by intrenching himself before the city and preparing for the siege. Murray was not idle. No more than 2200 of the British troops were now fit for duty; but even the wounded assisted as far as they were able; nearly 600 men, unable to walk without crutches, seated themselves on the ramparts, made sand-bags for the works, and cartridges for the cannon. The women were also active in tending the wounded, and cooking rations for the soldiers, who were now too much occupied to perform those offices for themselves. By unremitting exertion, 132 guns were soon mounted on the ramparts; and, as many of the Infantry had during the winter been trained by the artillerymen, Murray was enabled to keep up a fire which altogether overpowered that of the French.

But the hopes of the besieged rested alone for final delivery on the arrival of the fleet. On the 9th of May the Leostoffe frigate rounded the headland of Point Levi, and stood over for the city. For a time an intense anxiety reigned in both armies, as the French also expected a squadron with supplies. At length, when the red-cross flag ran up to the mizen peak of the strange ship, and a boat put off for the Lower Town, the joy of the garrison knew no bounds; officers and soldiers together mounted the parapets in the face of the enemy, and for nearly an hour together made the air ring with hearty British cheers. On the 16th, Commodore Swainton arrived with the Vanguard and the Diana frigate; the next day he passed the town, and destroyed or captured the whole of the French armament upon the river.[197]

De Levi, upon this, raised the siege with inglorious haste. His camp, guns, ammunition, stores, provisions, and intrenching tools were all abandoned, and his retreat was almost a flight. Murray pushed out his Grenadiers and Light Infantry in pursuit, and succeeded in taking some of the rear guard prisoners. The French then took up their old quarters at Jacques Cartier. This attempt upon Quebec, the results of which were so disproportionate to the means employed, was called by the Canadians "De Levi's folly."

Although the siege of Quebec lasted but a short time, it gave opportunity to the French officers of departments to indulge in enormous peculation.[198] The public money was squandered with the utmost profusion and with the most unblushing dishonesty. False estimates were authorized by the engineers, and paid by the intendant at Montreal. Among other charges against the French government was put forward a bill for 300,000 moccasins for the Indians; the infamous Cadet managed this contract himself, in the name of his clerk, and charged the crown no less than 300,000 livres for the fraudulent supply. Large stores were constantly furnished to the army, the greater part of which became the property of the contractors, and was resold by them to the government at an exorbitant rate: meanwhile the soldiers were miserably supplied, and the people almost perishing with want.

But this reign of peculation and oppression was fast drawing to a close. The successful action at Sillery was "Fortune's parting smile" upon the French in Canada. On the 3d of May, General, now Sir Jeffery Amherst, the commander-in-chief, embarked at New York and proceeded to Schenectady; from thence, with part of his army, he pursued his route to Oswego, where he encamped on the 9th of July. General Gage and the rest of the force was ordered to follow with all diligence: accordingly, they also reached Oswego on the 22d, and Sir William Johnson, with his Indians, arrived the following day. In the mean time, Captain Loring, of the navy, with two armed vessels, had cleared the Lake Ontario of the French cruisers, and driven them for refuge to the beautiful labyrinth of the "Thousand Isles."

Amherst's army, now assembled on the shores of Lake Ontario, consisted of a detachment of the Royal Artillery, six complete battalions and thirteen companies of regular troops, a corps of Grenadiers, and another of Light Infantry, with some Rangers, and eight battalions of Provincials, in all 10,142 men of all ranks; Johnson's Indians numbered 706.

The plan of the campaign was again founded on combined movements. The general-in-chief, warned by the untoward delays which he had experienced in the preceding year, himself chose to descend upon the enemy's capital by Lake Ontario and the Upper St. Lawrence, leaving the route of Lake Champlain to Colonel Haviland, with a force of some artillery, 1500 regular troops, 1800 Provincials, and a few Indians, which were assembled at Crown Point. At the same time, Murray, with the disposable portion of the gallant garrison of Quebec, aided by Lord Rollo and two battalions from Louisburg, was to push up the St. Lawrence, and, if possible, meet the other two corps under the general-in-chief and Haviland on the island of Montreal. Their movements were as follows:

Amherst embarked the grenadiers and light troops, with a battalion of Highlanders, on the 7th of August, and dispatched them, under Colonel Haldimand, to take post at that end of Lake Ontario from whence issues the River St. Lawrence. On the 10th, he himself, with the artillery, the remainder of the regular troops, and the Indians, followed in whale-boats. The Provincials, under Gage, joined the flotilla on the 12th, and the following day the whole army reached La Galette, on the banks of the Great River. They then dropped down the stream to Isle Royale without any occurrence worth record, except the gallant capture of an armed vessel by Colonel Williamson with a detachment of troops in row-boats.

Upon Isle Royale there was a French post of some strength, called Fort Levi, which Amherst determined to subdue, partly because he was unwilling to leave an enemy in his rear, but principally because among the little garrison were several men well skilled in the dangerous navigation of the St. Lawrence, whose services might prove of great value to the expedition; accordingly, the fort was completely invested by the 20th. On the 23d the British batteries were in readiness, and the armed vessels placed in a favorable position, while a detachment of grenadiers with scaling-ladders were told off to storm the works. A cannonade was opened upon the fort; but the gallant little garrison returned the fire with such spirit, that one of the British vessels which had got aground was obliged to strike her colors, and was abandoned by her crew. Amherst, astonished at this vigorous resistance, deferred his contemplated assault to another day. The delay proved fortunate in preventing further bloodshed; for M. Pouchot, the French commandant, seeing that there was no hope of a successful defense, surrendered at discretion on the 25th.

When the fort was delivered up, a circumstance occurred which reflects far more honor upon Englishmen than the triumph of their arms. Johnson's Indians had secretly determined to seize their opportunity of vengeance, and to massacre the gallant band of Frenchmen as soon as they gained admission within the works. Happily, Amherst was made aware of this atrocious scheme. He immediately gave orders to Sir William to dissuade the savages, if possible, from their intention; at the same time, he promised them all the stores which might be found in the fort, and warned them that if they persisted he would restrain them by force. The Indians sullenly submitted and returned to their camp, but they bitterly resented the interference, and Johnson informed the general that they would probably quit the army in anger. Amherst answered, "Although I wish to retain their friendship, I will not purchase it at the expense of countenancing barbarity; and tell them that, if they commit any acts of cruelty on their return home from the army, I will assuredly chastise them." Amherst lost his Indians, but he preserved his honor. Nearly all abandoned him; they did not, however, dare to perpetrate any violence on their way home.

The British leveled the works at Fort Levi, and continued their route down the stream with little difficulty till they reached the dangerous passage of the Cedars. About noon on the 4th of September the van of the army entered the rapids. Here the vast flood of the St. Lawrence dashes swiftly through a comparatively narrow channel; broken rocks, eddies, and surging waves render the appearance of this navigation terrible to the unaccustomed eye, but under the guidance of experienced pilots light boats constantly pass with little or no danger. Amherst expected that the enemy would have opposed him at this critical point; he therefore did not deem it prudent to permit the boats to descend in the successive order which would have best suited the navigation, but, himself leading the way, he ordered on a number of boats filled with artillery, grenadiers, and light infantry at the same time. Scarcely had they entered the boisterous waters when the boats became crowded together; some were stove in against each other, and many were dashed to pieces upon the rocks. No less than eighty-eight men and sixty-four boats, with some artillery and stores, were lost by this lamentable disaster.

On the 6th of September the British army landed on the island of Montreal, nine miles from the town; the French retired before them within the walls, and the same evening the place was invested in form.

In pursuance of the plan of the campaign, Murray had sailed from Quebec on the 14th of June, to co-operate with the expeditions under Amherst and Haviland. His army consisted of 2450 men of all ranks, the veterans who had conquered under Wolfe. His voyage up the river was an almost continuous skirmish. Whenever his vessels approached the shore, they were assailed with musketry, and by cannon at all suitable points; however, he met with no resistance of a nature materially to delay his progress. On the 8th of August the fleet passed Three Rivers, and on the 12th anchored opposite to Sorel, where M. de Bourlemaque was posted with about 4000 men. Here Murray judged it prudent to await Lord Rollo with the regiment from Louisburg, and, being joined by this re-enforcement, he again sailed upward on the 27th. On the 7th of September the troops were disembarked upon the island of Montreal, and on the following day they encamped to the northeast of the city. M. de Bourlemaque had retired before them within the walls.

Colonel Haviland embarked upon Lake Champlain on the 11th of August; on the 16th he encamped opposite the French port at Isle aux Noix, and by the 24th opened a fire of mortars upon it. On the night of the 27th, M. de Bougainville, the commandant, retired from the fort, leaving a garrison of only thirty men, who surrendered the next morning. Without any further interruption, Haviland also arrived upon the island of Montreal by the 8th of September. A British force of 16,000 men was then assembled under the walls of the defenseless city. On the same day the Marquis de Vaudreuil signed the capitulation which severed Canada from France forever.

All Canada was included in this capitulation, from the fishing stations on the coast of the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the unknown wilderness of the West. The regular troops were permitted to march out from their several posts with the honors of war, and were then conveyed to France in British ships, under an engagement that they were not again to serve before the conclusion of the first peace. The Provincial militia were allowed to return unmolested to their homes. The free exercise of religion was granted, and private property was held sacred. All the civil officers were also conveyed to France, with their families, baggage, and papers, except such of the latter as might be deemed useful to the conquerors for the future government of the country. The French colonists were guaranteed the same civil and commercial privileges as British subjects, and were to be allowed to retain their slaves. The Indians who had supported the cause of France were to be unmolested in person, and the possession of their lands was secured to them.

The total effective force of the French included in the capitulation was eight battalions of the line, and two of the colony or marine, being 4011 regular troops; sixty-four companies of the Quebec militia, 7976; nineteen of Three Rivers, 1115, and eighty-seven of Montreal, 7331; altogether, 20,433 men. The French had destroyed all their colors, but the English regained possession of two of their own, which had been taken from Shirley's and Pepperel's Provincial regiments at the capture of Oswego.

Although the campaign of 1760 was unmarked by many events of stirring interest, its conduct was most creditable to the officers and men of the British army. Amherst's plans were as ably executed as they were judiciously conceived. By descending the St. Lawrence from Ontario, he rendered it impossible for the French to retire westward from Montreal, and to prolong the war on the shores of the great lakes. His combinations were arranged with admirable accuracy, and carried out by his lieutenants with almost unparalleled success. With scarcely any loss, three considerable bodies of troops had accomplished journeys of uncommon difficulty, by routes of dangerous and almost unknown navigation, in the face of a vigilant and still formidable enemy, and all three had arrived at the place of meeting within forty-eight hours of each other.

While we dwell with pleasure upon the achievements of this British army and of their generals, we may not forget the merits of the gallant men against whom they fought. With a noble patriotism that no neglect could damp, Montcalm and his veterans strove for the honor of their country. From first to last they persevered almost against hope; destitute, and well-nigh deserted by France, they never for a moment wavered in their loyalty; all that skill could accomplish, they accomplished; all that devotion could endure, they endured; and all that chivalry could dare, they dared. In these later times, when the intoxication of triumph and the sting of defeat have long since passed away, the soldiers of France and England may alike look back with honest pride to the brave deeds of their ancestors in the Canadian war.

* * * * *

One of the most momentous political questions that has ever yet moved the human race was decided in this struggle. When a few English and French emigrants first landed among the Virginian and Canadian forests, it began; when the British flag was hoisted on the citadel of Quebec, it was decided. From that day the hand of Providence pointed out to the Anglo-Saxon race that to them was henceforth intrusted the destiny of the New World.

[Footnote 196: "Who the deuse was thinking of Quebec? America was like a