ADDENDA.

Some days after the action of the 31st of July, M. de Levis was sent by M. Vaudreuil to command at Montreal, upon a false report that a body of English was coming to attack Canada by Lake Champlain—a story trumped up by my enemies to deprive me of M. de Levis, in whom I had the greatest confidence, on account of his talents: I cannot say he made me a just acknowledgment of my sentiments towards him. I went to his lodgings a few hours before his departure, which was kept a secret from the army; and as I was little acquainted with his plan of defence for the left of our camp, at the Sault de Montmorency, I begged of him, as a favour, to leave me his aide-de-camp, M. Johnstone, who had a perfect knowledge of thelocaleof that part of the country. Your boats having caused us an alarm in the night between the 10th and 11th of September, by their appearance opposite to the ravine of Beauport, I remained at M. Vaudreuil’s until one in the morning, when I left him in order that I might return to my lodging—having with me M. Montreuil, Major-General of the army, and M. Johnstone. On my sending away M. de Vaudreuil, after giving him my orders, I related immediately to M. Johnstone all the measures I had concerted with M.de Vaudreuil, in case you (Gen. Wolfe) made a descent at daybreak. He answered me, that your army being now assembled at Point Levi, and part of it gone above Quebec, on the south side of the River St. Lawrence, it appeared very doubtful where you might attempt a descent—whether above the town, or below it towards theCanardière; he added, that he believed a body of troops might be advantageously placed upon the heights of Abraham, where they could with certainty confront you whenever you landed. I approved greatly of his idea. I called back Montreuil—who was as yet not far from us—and I ordered him to send the Regiment of Guienne—which was encamped near the hornwork at the River St. Charles—to pass the night upon the heights of Abraham. Next morning—the 11th—I wrote to Montreuil, ordering him to make this regiment encamp upon the heights of Abraham, and remain there until further orders. Thus, in consequence of my repeated orders, I had all the reason possible to believe that this regiment constitued a permanent post there; so that the declaration of the deserters from the three posts, who could not know this, might have led you into a dangerous snare, worse than that of the 31st July. Why this regiment continued the 12th in this camp at the hornwork, in spite of my express orders to encamp upon the heights, I know not; and can only attribute Montreuil’s disobedience of my orders to the weakness of his judgment and understanding. It is nevertheless evident that, if you had found the Regiment of Guienne upon the top of the hill—where it ought to have been, had my orders been obeyed—you would have been repulsed shamefully with a much greater loss than you met with on the 31st July at the Sault; the height where you made your descent, the 13th of September, being infinitely steeper than that there which obliged you to make a speedy retreat, favoured by theprovidential shower. Or, perhaps you would haveembarked immediately your army, without any further attempt, to return to England, after a most ruinous and fruitless expedition—the campaign ending with an incredible expense to your nation—fruitless; and, by this means, the colony of Canada would have been for ever delivered from such formidable armies.

As soon as your army was reunited in a single camp at Pointe Levi, after having been so long separated, upon you sending a body of troops up the River St. Lawrence, I detached M. de Bougainville, with fifteen hundred of my best troops—composed of all my Grenadiers, of the Volunteers from the French Regiments, of my best Canadians and Indians; and I likewise gave him some small guns. I ordered him strictly to follow all your movements, by ascending the river when you went up, and descending as you did the same: in short, to be an army of observation, with only the river between you—never to lose sight of you—ever ready to oppose your passage up the river, and to fall on you with the swiftness of the eagle the moment you attempted to land on our side of it. He sent to inform me, the 13th of September, that all your army had descended to your camp at Pointe Levi. But he remained loitering with his detachment at Cap Rouge—three leagues from Quebec! Why did he not follow you to the heights of Abraham, according to his orders? Why did he not send me back my Grenadiers and Volunteers—the very flower of their Regiments? informing me, as also the posts of Douglas and Rimini, that he would send down that night. I cannot conceive the reasons for such conduct: it is beyond all conception! He was informed, between seven and eight in the morning, by the fugitives from the three posts, that your army was landed and drawn up in battle upon the heights of Abraham; upon which he left Cap Rouge with his detachment, no doubt with the intention to join me. But, instead of taking the road to Lorette, or to theGeneral Hospital along the borders of the River St. Charles, which led both of them to our camp, he followed the heights of Abraham, where he was evidently certain by his information to find there your army to intercept him; and it could never be his design to fight you with fifteen hundred men! He found a house on his way, with three or four hundred of your troops barricading it, and was very desirous to take them prisoners. M. le Noir, Captain in the Regiment La Sarre—having more bravery than prudence and knowledge of the art of war—attacked the house with the most astonishing boldness, and had more than half of his company of Volunteers killed: he received himself two wounds—one of them by a ball through the body, and the other in his hand. De Bougainville, intent on taking the house, waited there the arrival of the cannon, to force it; but when the cannon arrived, it unluckily happened that the balls had been forgotten at Cap Rouge, which obliged him to return there, abandoning the house without a moment’s reflection. How much more important it would have been to direct his march towards the General Hospital, in order to join my army! Thus were precious moments wasted ridiculously in the most trifling manner. De Bougainville—who has a great deal of wit, good sense, many good qualities—was protected by a very great person at Court; he is personally brave, has but little knowledge in the military science, having never studied it.

The night between the 12th and 13th of September, when you made your descent, M. Poularies, Commander of the Regiment Royal Roussillon, who encamped behind my lodgings at Beauport, came to me, at midnight, to inform me that they saw boats opposite to his regiment. Upon which I immediately ordered all the army to line the trenches; and I sent Marcel—who served me as Secretary and aid-de-camp—to pass the night at M. de Vaudreuil’s, giving him one of my Cavaliers of Ordnance, ordering Marcel, if there was anythingextraordinary in that quarter, to inform me of it speedily by the Cavalier. I was out and walked with Poularies and Johnstone, between my house and the ravine of Beauport, until one in the morning, when I sent Poularies to his regiment, and I continued there with Johnstone. All night my mind was in the most violent agitation, which I believe proceeded from my uneasiness for the boats and provisions that de Bougainville had acquainted me, would be sent down the river that night; and I repeated often to Johnstone, that I trembled lest they should be taken, “that loss would ruin us without resource, having provisions only for two days’ subsistence to our army.” It appears to me that my extraordinary sufferings that night were a presage of my cruel fate some hours afterwards. At daybreak they fired some cannon from our battery at Samos, near Sillery. I then had no more doubts of our boats being taken by you. Alas! I would never have imagined that my provisions were in safety at Cap Rouge with de Bougainville, and that you were upon the heights of Abraham since midnight, without my being informed of an event of so great importance, and which was known through all the right of our camp.

The day clearing up, having news from Marcel at M. de Vaudreuil’s, who had always my Cavalier of Ordnance with him, and perceiving no changes in your camp at Point Levis, my mind was more composed on reflecting that, if anything extraordinary had happened, I would certainly have been informed of it. I then sent Johnstone to order all the army to their tents, having passed the night in the trenches, and retired to my lodgings after drinking some dishes of tea with Johnstone. I desired him to order the servants to saddle the horses, in order to go to M. de Vaudreuil’s and be informed of the cause of the firing from our battery at Samos. Not a soul having come to me from the right of our camp since midnight when I sent there Marcel, I set out with Johnstone between six and seven in the morning. Heavens, what was my surprise! when opposite to M. de Vaudreuil’s lodgings,the first news of what had passed during the night was the sight of your army upon the heights of Abraham, firing at the Canadians scattered amongst the bushes. I met at the same time M. de Vaudreuil coming out of his lodgings, and having spoke to him an instant, I turned away to Johnstone, and told him: “the affair is serious! run with the greatest speed to Beauport; order Poularies to remain there at the Ravine with two hundred men, and to send me all the rest of the left to the heights of Abraham with the utmost diligence.”

Johnstone having delivered my orders to Poularies, he quitted him an instant to give some instructions to my servants at my lodgings; returning to rejoin me, he found Poularies in the Ravine with M. de Sennezergue, Brigadier-General and Lieutenant-Colonel of the Regiment of La Sarre, and de Lotbinière, Captain of the Colony troops and aide-de-camp to M. de Vaudreuil. Poularies stopped Johnstone to make him repeat to them my orders, which he did; and at the same time advised Poularies, as a friend, to disobey them, by coming himself to the heights of Abraham with every man of the left, since it was evident that the English army—already landed near Quebec—could never think of making a second descent at Beauport; and that it was manifest there would be in a few hours an engagement upon the heights which would immediately decide the fate of the Colony. Poularies then showed Johnstone a written order—signed “Montreuil”—which Lotbinière had brought to him from M. de Vaudreuil, “That not a man of the left should stir from the camp!” Johnstone declared to them, upon his honour, that it was word for word my orders and my intentions; and he entreated Poularies, in the most pressing manner, to have no regard for that order signed “Montreuil,” as the want of two thousand men, which formed the left of our camp, must be of the greatest consequence in the battle. M. de Sennezergue—an officer of the greatest worth andhonour, who fell a few hours afterwards—told Johnstone: “That he (Johnstone) should take it upon him to make all the left march of immediately.” Johnstone answered: “That, being only the bearer of my orders, he could take nothing upon him. But if he was in M. de Sennezergue’s place, Brigadier-General, and, by M. de Levis’ absence, the next in command of the army, he would not hesitate a moment to make the left march, without any regard whatsoever to any order that might be hurtful to the King’s service, in that critical juncture.” Johnstone left them irresolute and doubtful how to act, clapped spurs to his horse, and rejoined me immediately upon the heights.

I don’t know, any more than a thousand others, the particulars relative to the action of the 13th of September. I am ignorant of who it was that made our army take their abominable and senseless position, by thrusting it betwixt your army and Quebec, where there were no provisions, and the best of our troops absent with de Bougainville; it certainly must have been dictated by an ignorant and stupid blockhead! I certainly had no hand in it: the piquets and part of the troops were already marched up the heights before I came to the Canardière, or ever knew that you were landed; and all the right of our army was marching after them when I arrived at their encampment. The only proper course to be taken in our position, and which would have been apparent to any man of common sense who had the least knowledge of the art of war, was to quit our camp coolly—calmly—without disorder or confusion, and march to Lorette; from thence cross over to St. Foix—which is two leagues from Quebec and a league from Cap Rouge—and when joined there by M. de Bougainville’s detachment, to advance then and attack you as soon as possible. By these means you would have found yourself between two fires, by a sally from the town the moment that I attacked you on the other side. I was no sooner upon the heights than Iperceived our horrible position,—pressed against the town-walls, without provisions for four-and-twenty hours, and a moral impossibility for us to retire, being drawn up in battle at the distance of a musket-shot from your army. Had I made an attempt to go down the heights, in order to repass the River St. Charles and return to my camp, I would have exposed my left flank to you, and my rear would have been cut to pieces without being able to protect and support it. Had I entered into the town, in an instant you would have invested us in it, without provisions, by carrying down your left wing to the River St. Charles—an easy movement of a few minutes. I saw no remedy other for us than to worry your army by a cannonade, having the advantage over you of a rising ground suitable for batteries of cannon, hoping, by thus harassing you, that you might retire in the night, as certainly you could never be so rash as to think of attacking us under the guns of the town; at least I would have made my retreat, taking advantage of the darkness of the night, to get myself out of the scrape where the ignorance of others had thrown me. I sent several persons with orders to M. de Ramsay, King’s Lieutenant (Deputy Governor), who was in command at Quebec, to send me, with all possible haste, the five-and-twenty brass field pieces that were in position on the palace battery, near our army; and precisely at the same instant when Johnstone came to me on the heights, with the news of the order which prevented the left of our army to join me, a sergeant arrived from M. de Ramsay—the fourth person I had sent to him with my orders—with a categorical answer from him: “That he had already sent me three pieces of artillery; and that he could not send me any more, having his town to defend!” What could be de Ramsay’s reasons for such a monstrous conduct, or who it was who inspired him with such a daring disobedience, I know not?

1. “His town”—as he called it—was defended by ourarmy which covered it, being drawn up in battle about two hundred fathoms from it; and its safety depended entirely upon the event of a battle.

2. There were in Quebec about two hundred pieces of cannon, most of them twenty-four and thirty-six pounders.

3. Small field-pieces, two or three pounders—such as the palace battery—could they be of the least service for the defence of a town?

4. A commander of Quebec, as King’s Lieutenant or sub-Lieutenant, such as de Ramsay was—not Governor,—or even M. de Vaudreuil himself, Governor General of Canada, at that moment in the town,—could they have any authority to refuse me all the assistance I could desire from Quebec, by my particular commission of Commander-in-Chief of the troops in Canada, when my army was at the gates of the town, and your army deployed ready to fight? A thousand other queries suggest themselves; but of what avail?

I assembled immediately a council of war, composed of all the commanding officers of the several regiments, to hear their opinion as to what was to be done in our critical situation. Some of them maintained you were busy throwing up breastworks. Others, that you appeared bent on descending in the valley, in order to seize the bridge of boats on the St. Charles river with the hornwork, with the object of cutting off our communication with the left wing of our army, which remained at Beauport pursuant to the order signed by Montreuil. In effect, a movement your army made in that moment towards the windmill and Borgia’s house, upon the edge of the height, seemed to favour this conjecture. But an instant afterwards, the Canadians having set fire to that house and chased you from it, you retook your former position. Others alleged, that the more we delayed attacking you, the more your army would be strong—imagining that your troops had not yet all landed. In short, there was not a single member of the war council who was not ofopinion to charge upon you immediately. Can it be credited that these officers—to the dishonour of mankind—who were the most violent to attack you, denied it afterwards, and became the most ardent censors of my conduct in not deferring the battle! What could I do in my desperate situation? Even a Marshal Turenne would have been much puzzled to get out of such a dilemma, in which they had entangled me either through design or ignorance. I listened with attention to their opinion, without opening my lips, and at last answered them:—“It appears to me, gentlemen, that you are unanimous for giving battle; and that the only question now is, how to charge the enemy?” Montreuil said it would be better to attack in columns. I answered him: “That we would be beat before our columns could be formed so near to the enemy; and, besides, that our columns must be very weak, not having Grenadiers to place at their heads.” I added, that “since it is decided to attack, it must be in Front Baudière(?)” I sent all the officers to their posts, and ordered the drummers to beat the charge.

Our onset was neither brisk nor long. We went on in confusion—were repulsed in an instant; and it could not naturally be otherwise from the absence of our Volunteers and Grenadiers, and de Bougainville at Cap Rouge with the best of our Canadians; the Montreal regiments with Poularies at Beauport, a league and a half from the battle-field. The example of the bravest soldiers in a regiment—the Grenadiers and Volunteers—suffices to infuse courage in the most timid, who can follow the road shown to them, but cannot lead the way. The brave Canadian Militia saw us with heavy hearts, grief and despair, from the other side of the St. Charles river, cut to pieces upon the heights, stopped, as they were, in the hornwork, and prevented by superior orders from rushing to our assistance. About two hundred brave and resolute Canadians rallied in the hollowat the bakehouse, and returned upon the heights. They fell instantly upon your left wing with incredible rage; stopped your army for some minutes from pursuing our soldiers in their flight, by attracting your attention to them; resisted, undaunted, the shock of your left; and, when repulsed, they disputed the ground inch by inch from the top to the bottom of the height, pursued by your troops down to the valley at the bakehouse, opposite to the hornwork. These unfortunate heroes—who were most of them cut to pieces—saved your army the loss of a great many men, by not being hotly pursued; and if your left, who followed these two hundred Canadians down to the plain, had crossed it from the bakehouse to the River St. Charles, only three or four hundred paces, they would have cut off the retreat of our army, invested the three-fourths of them in Quebec, without provisions, and M. de Vaudreuil, next day, must have surrendered the town and asked to capitulate for the colony. But your conduct cannot be blamed, as it is always wise and prudent in giving—as Pyrrhus advises—a golden bridge to one’s enemy in flight.

You see, sir, by this true and faithful account of the battle of the 13th September, and of what preceded it, how many different and unforeseen events, fortune was obliged to unite in your favour to render you successful in your expedition against Canada; the failure of any one of which would have sufficed to frustrate your enterprise. It would appear that heaven had decreed that France should lose this colony. Let us now conclude, sir, that I have as little deserved the blame, scorn, contempt and injustice which my country heaped on my memory, as you do the excessive honours they lavished on your’s in England; and that the ablest General in Europe, placed in my circumstances, could not have acted otherwise than I did. Moreover, I was under M. de Vaudreuil—the weakest man alive, although a most obstinate automaton—and could not freelyfollow my ideas as if I had been Commander-in-Chief. In my country the law is equal: we neither punish, nor recompense.

The Marquis of Montcalm, endeavouring to rally the troops in their disorderly flight, was wounded in the lower part of thebelly.KHe was conveyed immediately to Quebec, and lodged in the house of M. Arnoux, the King’s surgeon, who was absent with M. de Bourlamarque: his brother—the younger Arnoux—having viewed the wound, declared it mortal. This truly great and worthy man heardArnouxLpronounce his sentence of death with a firm and undaunted soul: his mind calm and serene; his countenance soft and pleasing; and with a look of indifference whether he lived or died. He begged of Arnoux to be so kind and outspoken as to tell him how many hours he thought he might yet live? Arnoux answered him, that he might hold out until three in the morning. He spent that short period of life in conversing with a few officers upon indifferent subjects with great coolness and presence of mind, and ended his days about the hour Arnoux had foretold him. His last words were:—“IdieMcontent,since I leave the affairs of the King, my dear master, in good hands: I always had a high opinion of the talents of M. de Levis.” I will not undertake the panegyric of this great man: a true patriot and lover of his king and country, possessing many rare and good qualities. Had he by chance been born in England, his memory would have been celebrated, and transmitted with honour to posterity. Illustrious by his virtue and genius, he deserves to live in history; he was an unfortunate victim to the insatiable avarice of some men, and a prey to the immoderate ambition of others. His ashes, mingled with those of Indians, repose neglected far from his native country, without amagnificent tomb or altars; General Wolfe has statues in England in commemoration of the many faults he committed during his expedition in Canada. “How many obscure dead,” says a modern author, “have received the greatest honours by titles yet more vain? O injustice of mankind! The mausolea adorn the temples to repeat continually false praise; and history, which ought to be the sacred asylum of truth, shows that statues and panegyrics are almost always the monuments of prejudice, and that flattery seeks to immortalise unjust reputations.”

When I was informed of M. de Montcalm’s misfortune, I sent him immediately his servant Joseph, begging him to acquaint me if I could be of any service to him, and in that case I would be with him at Quebec immediately. Joseph came back in a moment to the hornwork, and grieved me to the inmost of my soul by M. de Montcalm’s answer: “that it was needless to come to him, as he had only a few hours to live, and he advised me to keep with Poularies until the arrival of M. de Levis at the army.” Thus perished a great man, generally unknown and unregretted by his countrymen—a man who would have become the idol and ornament of any other country in Europe.

The French army in flight, scattered and entirely dispersed, rushed towards the town. Few of them entered Quebec; they went down the heights of Abraham, opposite to the Intendant’s Palace (past St. John’s gate) directing their course to the hornwork, and following the borders of the River St. Charles. Seeing the impossibility of rallying our troops, I determined myself to go down the hill at the windmill, near thebakehouse,Pand from thence across over the meadows to the hornwork, resolved not to approach Quebec, from my apprehension of being shut up there with a part of our army, which might have been the case if thevictors had drawn all the advantage they could have reaped from our defeat. It is true the death of the general-in-chief—an event which never fails to create the greatest disorder and confusion in an army—may plead as an excuse for the English neglecting so easy an operation as to take all our army prisoners.

But, instead of following immediately my ideas, I was carried off by the flow of the fugitives, without being able to stop them or myself until I got to a hollow swampy ground, where some gunners were endeavouring to save a field-piece which stuck there, and I stayed an instant with them to encourage them to draw it to the town. Returning back upon the rising ground, I was astonished to find myself in the centre of the English army, who had advanced whilst I was in the hollow with the gunners, and taking me for a general, on account of my fine black horse, they treated me as such by saluting me with a thousand musket shots from half of the front of their army, which had formed a crescent. I was, nevertheless, bent on reaching the windmill, and I escaped their terrible fire without any other harm than four balls through my clothes, which shattered them; a ball lodged in the pommel of my saddle, and four balls in my horse’s body, who lived, notwithstanding his wounds, until he had carried me to the hornwork.

It is impossible to imagine the disorder and confusion that I found in thehornwork.QThe dread and consternation was general. M. de Vaudreuil listened to everybody, and was always of the advice of he who spoke last. No order was given with reflection and with coolness, none knowing what to order or what to do. When the English had repulsed the two hundred Canadians that had gone up the height at the same time that I came down from it, pursuingthem down to the bakehouse, our men lost their heads entirely; they became demoralized, imagining that the English troops, then at the bakehouse, would in an instant cross the plain and fly over the St. Charles river into the hornwork as with wings. It is certain that when fear once seizes hold of men it not only deprives them totally of their judgment and reflection, but also of the use of their eyes and their ears, and they become a thousand times worse than the brute creation, guided by instinct only, or by that small portion of reason which the author of nature has assigned it, since it preserves the use of it on all occasions. How much inferior to them do the greater portion of mankind appear, with their boasted reason, when reduced to madness and automata, on occasions when they require the more the use of their reason.

The hornwork had the River St. Charles before it, about seventy paces broad, which served it better than an artificial ditch; its front, facing the river and the heights, was composed of strong, thick, and high palisades, planted perpendicularly, with gunholes pierced for several pieces of large cannon in it; the river is deep and only fordable at low water, at a musket shot before the fort. This made it more difficult to be forced on that side than on its other side of earthworks facing Beauport, which had a more formidable appearance; and the hornwork certainly on that side was not in the least danger of being taken by the English, by an assault from the other side of the river. On the appearance of the English troops on the plain of the bakehouse, Montguet and La Motte, two old captains in the Regiment of Bearn, cried out with vehemence to M. de Vaudreuil, “that the hornwork would be taken in an instant, by an assault, sword in hand; that we would be all cut to pieces without quarter, and that nothing else would save us but an immediate and general capitulation of Canada, giving it up to the English.”

Montreuil told them that “a fortification such as the hornwork was not to be taken so easily.” In short, there arose a general cry in the hornwork to cut the bridge ofboats.RIt is worthy of remark, that not a fourth of our army had yet arrived at it, and the remainder, by cutting the bridge, would have been left on the other side of the river as victims to the victors. The regiment ‘Royal Roussillon’ was at that moment at the distance of a musket shot from the hornwork, approaching to pass the bridge. As I had already been in such adventures, I did not lose my presence of mind, and having still a shadow remaining of that regard, which the army accorded me on account of the esteem and confidence which M. de Levis and M. de Montcalm had always shown me publicly, I called to M. Hugon, who commanded, for a pass in the hornwork, and begged of him to accompany me to the bridge. We ran there, and without asking who had given the order to cut it, we chased away the soldiers with their uplifted axes ready to execute that extravagant and wicked operation.

M. de Vaudreuil was closeted in a house in the inside of the hornwork with the Intendant and with some other persons. I suspected they were busy drafting the articles for a general capitulation, and I entered the house, where I had only time to see the Intendant with a pen in his hand writing upon a sheet of paper, when M. de Vaudreuil told me I had no business there. Having answered him that what he said was true, I retired immediately, in wrath, to see them intent on giving up so scandalously a dependency for the preservation of which so much blood and treasure had been expended. On leaving the house, I met M. Dalquier, an old, brave, downright honest man, commander of the regiment of Bearn, with the true character of a good officer—the marks of Mars all over his body. Itold him it was being debated within the house, to give up Canada to the English by a capitulation, and I hurried him in to stand up for the King’s cause, and advocate the welfare of his country. I then quitted the hornwork to join Poularies at theRavineSof Beauport; but having met him about three or four hundred paces from the hornwork, on his way to it, I told him what was being discussed there. He answered me, that sooner than consent to a capitulation, he would shed the last drop of his blood. He told me to look on his table and house as my own, advised me to go there directly to repose myself, and clapping spurs to his horse, he flew like lightning to the hornwork.

As Poularies was an officer of great bravery, full of honour and of rare merit, I was then certain that he and Dalquier would break up the measures of designing men. Many motives induced me to act strenuously for the good of the service; amongst others, my gratitude for the Sovereign who had given me bread; also, my affection and inviolable friendship for M. de Levis in his absence, who was now Commander-in-Chief of the French armies in Canada by the death of M. de Montcalm. I continued sorrowfully jogging on to Beauport, with a very heavy heart for the loss of my dear friend, M. de Montcalm, sinking with weariness and lost in reflection upon the changes which Providence had brought about in the space of three or four hours.

Poularies came back to his lodgings at Beauport about two in the afternoon, and he brought me the agreeable news of having converted the project of a capitulation into a retreat to Jacques-Cartier, there to wait the arrival of M. de Levis; and they despatched a courier immediately to Montreal to inform him of our misfortune at Quebec, which, to all appearance, would not have happened to us if M. de Vaudreuilhad not sent him away, through some political reason, to command there, without troops except those who were with M. de Bourlamarque at L’Isle aux Noix—an officer of great knowledge. The departure of the army was agreed upon to be at night, and all the regiments were ordered to their respective encampments until further orders. The decision for a retreat was to be kept a great secret, and not even communicated to the officers. I passed the afternoon with Poularies, hoping each moment to receive from Montreuil—Major-General of the army—the order of the retreat for the regiment Royal Roussillon; but having no word of it at eight o’clock in the evening, and it being a dark night, Poularies sent his Adjutant to M. de Vaudreuil to receive his orders for the left. Poularies instantly returned to inform him that the right of our army was gone away with M. de Vaudreuil without his having given any orders concerning the retreat, and that they followed the highway to the hornwork. Castaigné, his Adjutant, could give no further account of this famous retreat, only that all the troops on our right were marched off. It can be easily imagined how much we were confounded by this ignorant and stupid conduct, which can scarce appear credible to the most ignorant military man.

Poularies sent immediately to inform the post next to his regiment of the retreat, with orders to acquaint all the left of it, from post to post, between Beauport and the Sault de Montmorency.

I then set out with him and his regiment, following those before us as the other posts to our left followed us, without any other guides, orders or instructions with regard to the roads we should take, or where we should go to; this was left to chance, or at least was a secret which M. de Vaudreuil kept to himselfin petto. It was a march entirely in the Indian manner; not a retreat, but a horrid, abominable flight, a thousand times worse than that in the morning uponthe heights of Abraham, with such disorder and confusion that, had the English known it, three hundred men sent after us would have been sufficient to destroy and cut all our army to pieces. Except the regiment Royal Roussillon, which Poularies, always a rigid and severe disciplinarian, kept together in order, there were not to be seen thirty soldiers together of any other regiment. They were all mixed, scattered, dispersed, and running as hard as they could, as if the English army was at their heels. There never was a more favourable position to make a beautiful, well-combined retreat, in bright day, and in sight of the English Army looking at us, without having the smallest reason to fear anything within their power to oppose it, as I had obtained a perfect knowledge of thelocalefrom Beauport to the Sault de Montmorency during some months that I was there constantly with M. de Levis and M. de Montcalm. I thought myself in a position to foretell to Poularies the probable order of retreat, and the route which would be assigned to each regiment for their march to the Lorette village. I was greatly deceived, and indeed could never have foreseen the route which our entire army followed to reach Lorette, and which prolonged our march prodigiously for the centre of our army, and still more for our left at the Sault de Montmorency. There is a highway in a straight line from the Sault de Montmorency to Lorette, which makes a side of a triangle formed by another highway from the Sault to Quebec, and by another road from Lorette to the hornwork, which formed the base. In the highway from the Sault to the hornwork there are eight or nine cross roads of communication from it to the road from the Sault to Lorette, which are shorter as they approach to the point of the angle at the Sault. Thus it was natural to believe that our army, being encamped all along the road from the Sault to the hornwork, each regiment would have taken one of these cross roads, the nearest to his encampment, in order to take the straight road from the Sault to Lorette,instead of coming to the hornwork to take there the road from Quebec to Lorette, by which the left had double the distance to march, besides being more liable by approaching the hornwork so near to the English, to make them discover the retreat.

The army, by this operation, would have arrived all at the same time in the road from the Sault to Lorette by the difference in the length of these cross roads, and would have naturally formed a column all along that road; and as it was not a forced retreat, they had the time from twelve at noon until eight at night to send off all the baggage by cross roads to Lorette, without the English perceiving it; but supposing them even fully aware of our design, which might have been executed in open day, they no way could disturb our operations without attacking the hornwork, and attempting the passage of the river St. Charles—a very difficult and dangerous affair—where they might be easily repulsed, exposing themselves in a moment to lose the fruits of their victory, without enjoying it; and consequently they would have been insane had they ventured on such a rash enterprise. Instead of these wise measures, which common sense alone might have dictated, tents, artillery, the military stores, baggage, and all other effects, were left as a present to the English; the officers saved only a few shirts, or what they could carry in their pockets: the rest was lost. In fact, it would appear, by this strange conduct, that a class of men there, from interested views, were furiously bent on giving up the colony to the English, so soon as they could have a plausible pretext to colour their designs,—by lopping off gradually all the means possible to defend it any longer. M. de Vaudreuil had still other kind offices in reserve for the English. He wrote to de Ramsay, King’s Lieutenant and Commander inQuebec,Tas soon as the retreatwas decided:—“That he might propose a capitulation for the town eight-and-forty hours after the departure of our army from our camp at Beauport, upon the best conditions he could obtain from the English.” We ran along in flight all night; and at daybreak M. de Bougainville, with his detachment, joined us near Cap Rouge. In the evening, our army arrived at Pointe-aux-Trembles—five leagues from Quebec—where it passed the night, and next day came to Jacques-Cartier. The English had so little suspicion of our retreat, seeing our tents standing without any change at our camp, that Belcour—an officer of La Rochebaucourt’s cavalry—having returned to it with a detachment, two days after our flight, he found everything the same as when we left it. He went into the hornwork with his detachment, and fired the guns (pointed) at the heights of Abraham towards the English camp, which greatly alarmed them.

FINIS.

[The remainder of the manuscript alludes more particularly to the campaign conducted by Chevalier de Levis, which ended, in 1760, by the capitulation of Montreal.]

Extract of the Register of Marriages, Baptisms and Deaths of the French Cathedral at Quebec, for 1759:—“L’an mil sept cens cinquante-neuf, le quatorzième du mois de Septembre, a été inhumé dans l’Eglise des Religieuses Ursulines de Québec, haut et puissant Seigneur Louis Joseph Marquis de Montcalm, Lieutenant Général des armées du Roy, Commandeur de l’ordre Royal et militaire de St. Louis, Commandant en chef des troupes de terre en l’Amérique Septentrionale, décédé le même jour de ses blessures au combat de la veille, muni des sacrements qu’il a reçus avec beaucoup de piété et de Religion. Etoient présents à son inhumation MM. Resche, Cugnet et Collet, chanoines de la Cathédrale, M. de Ramezay, Commandant de la Place, et tout le corps des officiers.(Signé,)“RESCHE, Ptre. Chan.“COLLET, Chne.”

Extract of the Register of Marriages, Baptisms and Deaths of the French Cathedral at Quebec, for 1759:—

“L’an mil sept cens cinquante-neuf, le quatorzième du mois de Septembre, a été inhumé dans l’Eglise des Religieuses Ursulines de Québec, haut et puissant Seigneur Louis Joseph Marquis de Montcalm, Lieutenant Général des armées du Roy, Commandeur de l’ordre Royal et militaire de St. Louis, Commandant en chef des troupes de terre en l’Amérique Septentrionale, décédé le même jour de ses blessures au combat de la veille, muni des sacrements qu’il a reçus avec beaucoup de piété et de Religion. Etoient présents à son inhumation MM. Resche, Cugnet et Collet, chanoines de la Cathédrale, M. de Ramezay, Commandant de la Place, et tout le corps des officiers.

(Signé,)“RESCHE, Ptre. Chan.“COLLET, Chne.”

FOOTNOTESALes Ecossais en France, Vol. II., P. 449.BFormerly, inward bound ships, instead of taking the south channel lower down than Goose Island, struck over from Cape Tourmente, and took the south channel between Madame Island and Pointe Argentenay.CGeneral Abercrombie’s army consisted of 6,000 regular troops and 7,000 provincials, according to the English; but the French gave them out to be 6,300 troops, and 13,000 provincials—in all 19,300 men.DThe French say the English lost between four and five thousand men.EUnfortunately, the plans here alluded to do not accompany the manuscript.FThis contest is generally denominated the Battle of the Monongahela. Capt. Daniel Liénard de Beaujeu commanded the Canadians, and achieved a most brilliant victory over General Braddock and George Washington; the English losing their provisions, baggage, fifteen cannon, many small arms, the military chest, Braddock’s papers. Washington, after the battle, wrote: “We have been beaten, shamefully beaten, by a handful of French.”—(J. M. L.)GDe Vergor’s post apparently stood about a 100 yards to the east of the spot on which Wolfe’s Field-cottage has since been built. The ruins still exist.—(J. M. L.)HDe Vergor’s guard was composed chiefly of Militiamen from Lorette, who on that day had obtained leave to go and work on their farms, provided they also worked on a farm Captain De Vergor owned.—“Mémoires sur les Affaires de la Colonie de 1749–60.” Some historians have intimated that De Vergor—aprotégeof Bigot’s—was a traitor to his King.—(J. M. L.)II incline more to General Wolfe’s opinion than what Voltaire reports in the war of 1781, to have been the King of Prussia’s maxim:—“That we ought always to do what the enemy is afraid of.” Where the enemy is afraid of anything in particular, he has there his largest force, and is there more on his guard than anywhere else.—(Manuscript Note.)JBigot’s coterie.—(J. M. L.)KIt was reported in Canada, that the ball which killed that great, good and honest man, was not fired by an English musket. But I never credited this.LArnoux gave me this account of his last moments.—Manuscript Notes.MThe place where Montcalm died appears yet shrouded in doubt. It is stated, in Knox’s Journal, that, on being wounded, Montcalm was conveyed to the General Hospital, towards which the French squadrons in retreat had to pass to regain, over the bridge of boats, their camp at Beauport. The General Hospital was also the head-quarters of the wounded—both English and French. It has been supposed that Arnoux’s house, where Montcalm was conveyed, stood in St. Louis street. No where does it appear that Montcalm was conveyed to his own residence on the ramparts (on which now stands the residence of R. H. Wurtele, Esquire). As the city surrendered five days after the great battle, it was likely to be bombarded—and, moreover, one-third of the houses in it had been burnt and destroyed—we do not see why the wounded General should have been conveyed from the battle-field to the Château St. Louis—certainly an exposed situation in the event of a new bombardment; and, moreover, the city itself, after and during the battle, was considered so insecure that the French army, instead of retreating to it for shelter, hurried past the General Hospital, over the bridge, to their camp at Beauport. There is a passage in Lieutenant-Colonel Beatson’s Notes on the Plains of Abraham, which we give:—“The valiant Frenchman (Montcalm), regardless of pain, relaxed not his efforts to rally his broken battalions in their hurried retreat towards the city until he was shot through the loins, when within a few hundred yards of St. LouisGate.NAnd so invincible was his fortitude that not even the severity of this mortal stroke could abate his gallant spirit or alter his intrepid bearing. Supported by two grenadiers—one at each side of his horse—he re-entered the city; and in reply to some women who, on seeing blood flow from his wounds as he rode down St. Louis street, on his way to the Château, exclaimed:Oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! le Marquis est tuê!!!he courteously assured them that he was not seriously hurt, and begged of them not to distress themselves on his account.—Ce n’est rien! ce n’est rien! Ne vous affligez pas pour moi, mes bonnes amies.”ONM. Garneau, in hisHistoire du Canada, says:—“The two Brigadier-Generals, M. de Semezergues and the Baron de St. Ours, fell mortally wounded; andMontcalm(who had already received two wounds), while exerting himself to the utmost to rally his troops and preserve order in the retreat, was also mortally wounded in the loins by a musket-ball. He was at that moment betweenLes Buttes-a-Neveuand St. Louis Gate.” From the city, on the one side, and from the battle-field, on the other, the ground rises until the two slopes meet and form a ridge; the summit of which was formerly occupied by a windmill belonging to a man namedNeveuorNepveu. About midway between this ridge and St. Louis Gate, and to the southward of the St. Louis Road, are some slight eminences, still known by the older French residents asLes Buttes-a-NepveuorNeveu’s hillocks, and about three-quarters of a mile distant from the spot where the British line charged.—R. S. Beatson.OFor these particulars I am indebted to my friend Mr. G. B. Faribault—a gentleman well known in Canada for his researches into the history of the Colony; whose information on this subject was derived from his much respected fellow-citizen the Hon. John Malcolm Frazer—grandson of one ofWolfe’sofficers, and now (1854) one of the oldest inhabitants of Quebec; where, in his childhood and youth, he had the facts, as above narrated, often described to him by an elderly woman who, when about eighteen years of age, was an eye-witness of the scene.—R. S. Beatson.PThis bakehouse appears to have been some where at the foot of Abraham’s hill.QThe excavations of these French works are very visible to this day behind Mr. G. H. Parke’s residence, Ringfield, Charlesbourg road. The hornwork appears to have covered about twelve acres of ground, surrounded by a ditch.RIt crossed the St. Charles a little higher up than the Marine Hospital, at the foot of Crown street.—(J. M. L.)SA small bridge supported on masonry has since been built at this spot, exactly across the main road at Brown’s mills.—(J. M. L.)TThe deliberations of the council of war, called at M. Daine’s, Mayor of Quebec, on the 15th September, 1759, published in de Ramsay’s Memoires, in 1861, by the Literary and Historical Society, have done an effective, though a tardy, justice to de Ramsay’s memory.—(J. M. L.)

ALes Ecossais en France, Vol. II., P. 449.

BFormerly, inward bound ships, instead of taking the south channel lower down than Goose Island, struck over from Cape Tourmente, and took the south channel between Madame Island and Pointe Argentenay.

CGeneral Abercrombie’s army consisted of 6,000 regular troops and 7,000 provincials, according to the English; but the French gave them out to be 6,300 troops, and 13,000 provincials—in all 19,300 men.

DThe French say the English lost between four and five thousand men.

EUnfortunately, the plans here alluded to do not accompany the manuscript.

FThis contest is generally denominated the Battle of the Monongahela. Capt. Daniel Liénard de Beaujeu commanded the Canadians, and achieved a most brilliant victory over General Braddock and George Washington; the English losing their provisions, baggage, fifteen cannon, many small arms, the military chest, Braddock’s papers. Washington, after the battle, wrote: “We have been beaten, shamefully beaten, by a handful of French.”—(J. M. L.)

GDe Vergor’s post apparently stood about a 100 yards to the east of the spot on which Wolfe’s Field-cottage has since been built. The ruins still exist.—(J. M. L.)

HDe Vergor’s guard was composed chiefly of Militiamen from Lorette, who on that day had obtained leave to go and work on their farms, provided they also worked on a farm Captain De Vergor owned.—“Mémoires sur les Affaires de la Colonie de 1749–60.” Some historians have intimated that De Vergor—aprotégeof Bigot’s—was a traitor to his King.—(J. M. L.)

II incline more to General Wolfe’s opinion than what Voltaire reports in the war of 1781, to have been the King of Prussia’s maxim:—“That we ought always to do what the enemy is afraid of.” Where the enemy is afraid of anything in particular, he has there his largest force, and is there more on his guard than anywhere else.—(Manuscript Note.)

JBigot’s coterie.—(J. M. L.)

KIt was reported in Canada, that the ball which killed that great, good and honest man, was not fired by an English musket. But I never credited this.

LArnoux gave me this account of his last moments.—Manuscript Notes.

MThe place where Montcalm died appears yet shrouded in doubt. It is stated, in Knox’s Journal, that, on being wounded, Montcalm was conveyed to the General Hospital, towards which the French squadrons in retreat had to pass to regain, over the bridge of boats, their camp at Beauport. The General Hospital was also the head-quarters of the wounded—both English and French. It has been supposed that Arnoux’s house, where Montcalm was conveyed, stood in St. Louis street. No where does it appear that Montcalm was conveyed to his own residence on the ramparts (on which now stands the residence of R. H. Wurtele, Esquire). As the city surrendered five days after the great battle, it was likely to be bombarded—and, moreover, one-third of the houses in it had been burnt and destroyed—we do not see why the wounded General should have been conveyed from the battle-field to the Château St. Louis—certainly an exposed situation in the event of a new bombardment; and, moreover, the city itself, after and during the battle, was considered so insecure that the French army, instead of retreating to it for shelter, hurried past the General Hospital, over the bridge, to their camp at Beauport. There is a passage in Lieutenant-Colonel Beatson’s Notes on the Plains of Abraham, which we give:—“The valiant Frenchman (Montcalm), regardless of pain, relaxed not his efforts to rally his broken battalions in their hurried retreat towards the city until he was shot through the loins, when within a few hundred yards of St. LouisGate.NAnd so invincible was his fortitude that not even the severity of this mortal stroke could abate his gallant spirit or alter his intrepid bearing. Supported by two grenadiers—one at each side of his horse—he re-entered the city; and in reply to some women who, on seeing blood flow from his wounds as he rode down St. Louis street, on his way to the Château, exclaimed:Oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! le Marquis est tuê!!!he courteously assured them that he was not seriously hurt, and begged of them not to distress themselves on his account.—Ce n’est rien! ce n’est rien! Ne vous affligez pas pour moi, mes bonnes amies.”O

NM. Garneau, in hisHistoire du Canada, says:—“The two Brigadier-Generals, M. de Semezergues and the Baron de St. Ours, fell mortally wounded; andMontcalm(who had already received two wounds), while exerting himself to the utmost to rally his troops and preserve order in the retreat, was also mortally wounded in the loins by a musket-ball. He was at that moment betweenLes Buttes-a-Neveuand St. Louis Gate.” From the city, on the one side, and from the battle-field, on the other, the ground rises until the two slopes meet and form a ridge; the summit of which was formerly occupied by a windmill belonging to a man namedNeveuorNepveu. About midway between this ridge and St. Louis Gate, and to the southward of the St. Louis Road, are some slight eminences, still known by the older French residents asLes Buttes-a-NepveuorNeveu’s hillocks, and about three-quarters of a mile distant from the spot where the British line charged.—R. S. Beatson.

OFor these particulars I am indebted to my friend Mr. G. B. Faribault—a gentleman well known in Canada for his researches into the history of the Colony; whose information on this subject was derived from his much respected fellow-citizen the Hon. John Malcolm Frazer—grandson of one ofWolfe’sofficers, and now (1854) one of the oldest inhabitants of Quebec; where, in his childhood and youth, he had the facts, as above narrated, often described to him by an elderly woman who, when about eighteen years of age, was an eye-witness of the scene.—R. S. Beatson.

PThis bakehouse appears to have been some where at the foot of Abraham’s hill.

QThe excavations of these French works are very visible to this day behind Mr. G. H. Parke’s residence, Ringfield, Charlesbourg road. The hornwork appears to have covered about twelve acres of ground, surrounded by a ditch.

RIt crossed the St. Charles a little higher up than the Marine Hospital, at the foot of Crown street.—(J. M. L.)

SA small bridge supported on masonry has since been built at this spot, exactly across the main road at Brown’s mills.—(J. M. L.)

TThe deliberations of the council of war, called at M. Daine’s, Mayor of Quebec, on the 15th September, 1759, published in de Ramsay’s Memoires, in 1861, by the Literary and Historical Society, have done an effective, though a tardy, justice to de Ramsay’s memory.—(J. M. L.)

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