FOOTNOTES:

The deepening shades of evening prevented the English from seeing the catastrophe of the enemy's squadron, and rendered it difficult or impossible for them to pursue into the rocky shallows; they therefore prepared as they best could to brave out the stormy night, and cast anchor at the entrance of the bay. When daylight came they saw the abandoned vessels; the French schooner, however, had escaped. Captain Loring left Lieutenant Grant with the sloop to endeavor to save the stranded vessel, with her guns, stores, and rigging; he himself again put out into the lake in pursuit of the only hostile sail now left upon the waters.

The storm continued to the 15th of October; on the 16th there was frost; on the 17th a contrary wind again rose. During all this time General Amherst was forced to remain inactive. Every hour was precious; the fate of the campaign, his fame and England's interests might have hung upon his movements, and he did not stir. By flags of truce and letters of ceremony from the hostile chief, he had received information, vaguely, that a British fleet lay before Quebec; that combats had been fought, and blood had freely flowed; and while the balance of victory trembled under the walls of the great stronghold, he, with his overwhelming power, lay helpless, as in a nightmare, on the banks of the stormy lake.[170]

On the 18th the waters became somewhat calmer, and a south wind blew gently up Lake Champlain. Amherst made one other effort; the troops were once more hurried into the bateaux, and the expedition pushed on to the north. They reached in a few hours the bay where the French vessels had been driven ashore a few days previously; there again, however, the uncertain winds veered round; the clouds darkened in the north, and a chill blast swept down the lake, plowing the angry waters. The British general was now finally baffled; winter had almost commenced; he had no hope of grappling with the enemy before the season closed; the fate of Quebec must, ere then, have been decided; there was much to risk and little to gain by another effort upon the lakes. Nothing was left but to prepare for the inglorious step of disposing his army in winter quarters. Amherst therefore fell back upon Crown Point on the 21st, directed the completion of the defenses, made roads and bridges, and nursed the Provincials, who had become uncommonly sickly. Thus ended his campaign.

FOOTNOTES:[166]This is the Fort George marked in modern maps, nearly on the same spot where Fort William Henry formerly stood.[167]"Four hundred of these young troops (Provincials) are to be stationed here.... The privates are a poor, mean, ragged set of men, of all sizes and ages; their officers are sober, modest men, and such of them as have been upon service express themselves very distinctly and sensibly; but their ideas, like those who have not been out of their own country, or conversed much with Europeans, are naturally confined; they make a decent appearance, being clothed in blue, faced with scarlet, gilt buttons, laced waistcoats and hats; but their ordinary soldiers have no uniforms, nor do they affect any kind of regularity."—Knox'sHistorical Journal, vol. i., p. 237.[168]"The Rangers have got a new uniform clothing: the ground is black ratteen or frieze, lapelled and cuffed with blue. Here follows a description of their dress: a waistcoat with sleeves, a short jacket without sleeves; only arm-holes, and wings to the shoulders (in like manner as the Grenadiers and drummers of the army); white metal buttons, linen or canvas drawers, with a blue skirt, or short petticoat of stuff, made with a waistband and one button: this is open before, and does not extend quite to their knees: a pair of leggins of the same color with their coat, which reach up to the middle of their thigh (without flaps), and from the calf of the leg downward they button like spatterdashes. With this active dress they wear blue bonnets, and, I think, in a great measure resemble our Highlanders."—Knox'sHistorical Journal, vol. i., p. 238.[169]"Dear Sir—Let no persuasion or plausible reason determine you to leave the plan of operations by the River St. Lawrence. To go by the lakes, through wild and almost inaccessible forests, has already proved dangerous, tedious, and expensive; will prolong the war, and, at the same time, enrich your commanders and contractors. What is more, we have seen that our regulars do not fight well in woods: the Indian yell is horrid to their ears, and soon throws them into confusion. If France had the superiority at sea we now enjoy, they would not leave us a single province or colony in all North or South America."—Mr. Beckford'sLetter to Mr. Pitt. Fonthill, Dec., 1758;Chatham Correspondence, vol. i., p. 378.[170]"Ils durent évacuer encore la position de Fort Frédéric (Crown Point). Toutefois leur commandant, Burlamaque, se fortifia à l'Ile aux Noix, à l'extrémité du Lac Champlain; et comme il avoit encore sous ses ordres trois mille cinq cents hommes, il réussit à fermer le chemin de Quebec au Général Amherst, et à l'empêcher de seconder l'attaque du Général Wolfe contre cette ville."—Sismondi,Histoire des Français, vol. xxix., ch. liv.

[166]This is the Fort George marked in modern maps, nearly on the same spot where Fort William Henry formerly stood.

[167]"Four hundred of these young troops (Provincials) are to be stationed here.... The privates are a poor, mean, ragged set of men, of all sizes and ages; their officers are sober, modest men, and such of them as have been upon service express themselves very distinctly and sensibly; but their ideas, like those who have not been out of their own country, or conversed much with Europeans, are naturally confined; they make a decent appearance, being clothed in blue, faced with scarlet, gilt buttons, laced waistcoats and hats; but their ordinary soldiers have no uniforms, nor do they affect any kind of regularity."—Knox'sHistorical Journal, vol. i., p. 237.

[168]"The Rangers have got a new uniform clothing: the ground is black ratteen or frieze, lapelled and cuffed with blue. Here follows a description of their dress: a waistcoat with sleeves, a short jacket without sleeves; only arm-holes, and wings to the shoulders (in like manner as the Grenadiers and drummers of the army); white metal buttons, linen or canvas drawers, with a blue skirt, or short petticoat of stuff, made with a waistband and one button: this is open before, and does not extend quite to their knees: a pair of leggins of the same color with their coat, which reach up to the middle of their thigh (without flaps), and from the calf of the leg downward they button like spatterdashes. With this active dress they wear blue bonnets, and, I think, in a great measure resemble our Highlanders."—Knox'sHistorical Journal, vol. i., p. 238.

[169]"Dear Sir—Let no persuasion or plausible reason determine you to leave the plan of operations by the River St. Lawrence. To go by the lakes, through wild and almost inaccessible forests, has already proved dangerous, tedious, and expensive; will prolong the war, and, at the same time, enrich your commanders and contractors. What is more, we have seen that our regulars do not fight well in woods: the Indian yell is horrid to their ears, and soon throws them into confusion. If France had the superiority at sea we now enjoy, they would not leave us a single province or colony in all North or South America."—Mr. Beckford'sLetter to Mr. Pitt. Fonthill, Dec., 1758;Chatham Correspondence, vol. i., p. 378.

[170]"Ils durent évacuer encore la position de Fort Frédéric (Crown Point). Toutefois leur commandant, Burlamaque, se fortifia à l'Ile aux Noix, à l'extrémité du Lac Champlain; et comme il avoit encore sous ses ordres trois mille cinq cents hommes, il réussit à fermer le chemin de Quebec au Général Amherst, et à l'empêcher de seconder l'attaque du Général Wolfe contre cette ville."—Sismondi,Histoire des Français, vol. xxix., ch. liv.

The expedition against Niagara consisted of a detachment of the Royal Artillery, the 44th and 46th British regiments, the 4th battalion of the Royal Americans, two battalions of New York Provincials, and a large body of Indians under Sir William Johnson: Brigadier Prideaux commanded in chief. On the 20th of May the troops commenced their advance from Schenectady, where they had assembled, and moved upon Oswego; they embarked on Lake Ontario from that port on the 1st of July, after a march of great difficulty, but without interruption from the enemy. A detachment under Colonel Haldimand was left for the protection of Oswego.

The British force landed, unopposed, on the 7th of July, about six miles to the eastward of Fort Niagara, and at once set to work in opening a communication between the landing place and the Niagara River. The fort was situated on a narrow peninsula, the lake on one side, the broad, deep stream on the other; it was thus a matter of little difficulty to invest the position effectually on the land side, while the numerous bateaux cut off from the besieged all communication by water. Prideaux planned and advanced his approaches with skill and vigor. Batteries were speedily erected, from which he fired upon the defenses, and kept under the artillery of the French. Still, as the superiority of the besiegers' guns told more and more upon the crumbling ramparts, the works were pushed closer and closer, and fresh spirit was thrown into the attack.

On the first arrival of the English army before the fort, the general had sent a peremptory summons to M. Pouchot,[171]the commandant, to surrender at discretion; this was promptly refused by the stout Frenchman, who answered that "his post was strong, his garrison faithful, and that, the longer he held out, the more he should win the esteem of his enemy." Early intelligence of the approaching danger had reached Pouchot; he had not lost a moment in dispatching couriers eastward to Frontenac, to inform the Canadian government, and southward to Detroit, Presque Isle, Venango, and Le Bœuf, with orders for all the French detachments to assemble with their Indian allies at the Niagara Rapids, and to hasten to his relief.

On the 10th of July, M. Chaboust arrived, with a small party of French and some savages, and succeeded in getting into the fort. On the 11th the besieged attempted a sally upon the British trenches, but were instantly overpowered, and pursued till they found shelter under the fire of their guns. By the 14th the besiegers' parallels were finished to the banks of the lake, and the fire became so heavy that the defenders could only find safety in the covered way and behind the ramparts. On the 19th the French schooner Iroquoise arrived from Frontenac, and lay to abreast of the fort, but could not venture in under the English guns, which still, night and day, kept up their harassing fire.

General Prideaux being well informed of the enemy's formidable muster for the relief of the fort, made every preparation that zeal and prudence could suggest to meet their designs; but at this critical moment a melancholy accident deprived the army of his useful services, and gave to another the enjoyment of the honors which he had worthily won. On the evening of the 19th, while issuing some orders in the trenches, unperceived by the gunners in a battery close at hand, a cohorn mortar was unhappily fired, the shell of which burst prematurely, and a splinter struck the gallant general with a deadly wound. The command devolved to the hands of Sir William Johnson.

Meanwhile the besieged, though hardly pressed, were still buoyed up with the hope of relief from their advancing countrymen. On the 23d four savages made their way into the fort with a letter to M. Bouchet, informing him that MM. d'Aubry and De Lignières were at hand with 1200 Frenchmen and a still larger force of Indians, and that they were about to attack the British lines. On the result of this attack hung the fate of Niagara and of all the Western country which still owned the sway of France: preparations were made to second it with all the efforts of the garrison. The cause of the French was, however, already all but desperate; the feeble defenses of the fort shook and crumbled under the heavy and increasing fire of their enemies. An overpowering artillery forbade the approach of their vessel from the lake. The beleaguering trenches intruded within 100 yards of their parapets, and gave shelter to swarms of British and Indian marksmen. The little garrison was worn by toil and wasted by death; the barracks and dwellings were ruined by shot and shell; and, worst of all, the apparently favorable chance in the death of the besieging general had only transferred the conduct of the attack to hands even more able and skillful than those of the deceased. It was true that the French detachment, then about to risk all for their relief, were brave and veteran troops; but their numbers were hopelessly inadequate, and little dependence could be placed in the politic and faithless savages who marched with them, more to witness than to contribute to their success or defeat.

On the other hand, Sir William Johnson had received ample notice of De Aubry's approach, and, confident in his own strength and ability, made steady preparation for the combat. His great superiority of force enabled him to leave the trenches crowded with troops, chiefly Provincials, while he marched out to overwhelm the advancing enemy. About sunset on the evening of the 23d, he pushed forward strong pickets, and the light companies of the regular regiments, into the woods on either side of the rude track leading from Niagara Falls to the Fort, and scattered small parties of Indians on the flanks of the Europeans. Having posted their sentries, and no enemy being yet visible, Johnson's advance lay down to rest upon their arms. Never, perhaps, has a stranger scene been witnessed than the banks of the Niagara River presented on that September night: the dark ramparts of the fort, every now and then illumined by the flash of the defenders' guns, or suddenly revealed by the red light of a salvo from the hostile trenches; in the open plain beyond, the white tents and the huts of the besieging army; and further on, the watch-fires of the advanced guard throwing their flickering glare upon the lofty arches of the forest, and upon the scattered groups of the British soldiery and Indian warriors. Away, still further to the west, unseen in the gloomy woods, the weak but gallant troops of France slept the sleep which most of them were to know no more. High over all, the soft, misty spray from the neighboring cataract stood like a huge pillar of lightest summer clouds up against the sky, while the dull, deep roar of falling waters filled the air with a solemn and unceasing voice.

At daylight on the 24th Sir William Johnson advanced his Grenadier companies and part of the 46th regiment, under Lieutenant-colonel Massey, to strengthen his front, while the 44th regiment, under Lieutenant-colonel Farquhar, kept up the communication with Major Beckwith, who commanded the troops in the trenches, and remained in readiness to throw their force wherever aid might be required. These judicious dispositions being made, the British awaited the approach of the enemy.

At about eight o'clock the leading files of the French were first perceived advancing through the woods, flanked by large bodies of Indians; as they came on, the English outposts fell back on the reserves steadily, and without firing. In the mean time, the Iroquois, serving under Johnson, endeavored to parley with the Canadian savages, with a view of inducing them to make peace; these overtures were, however, unsuccessful, and the warriors of the Five Nations fell back on the flanks of the British. By nine o'clock D'Aubry's force was formed, and the order immediately given for the attack. With furious gestures and terrible impetuosity, the Indians burst through the woods and fell upon the English lines as they rushed to the charge, shouting the appalling war-cry which had once struck terror into their foes; but it fell upon accustomed ears: they were received with a calm front and steady fire. The Grenadiers of the 44th, who had received a dreadful lesson in savage warfare under the unfortunate Braddock, now bore the shock unmoved, and, stoutly supported by the 46th, with a few rolling volleys they swept away the fierce assailants. So complete was the discomfiture of the red warriors that they rallied no more, and so sudden their disappearance from the scene of strife that the French could only attribute it to treachery which had prearranged defeat.

Undismayed by the dispersion of his allies, the gallant D'Aubry led on his men against the besiegers' position, now strengthened by a force of Provincials from the trenches. The attack was vigorously and bravely pushed, but failed to shake the steady courage of the British troops; meanwhile Johnson's Indians made their way through the woods, and fell upon the flanks of the French. Attacked on all sides, deserted by allies, outnumbered by foes, the assailants hesitated, gave way, and in little more than half an hour broke into utter rout. D'Aubry and all his surviving officers were taken, with a great part of his troops; the remainder were pursued with deadly zeal, and slain or driven into the wilderness.

It was not until two o'clock in the day that Pouchot and his garrison were informed that the firing heard in the morning had ended in the ruin of their hopes of succor. With great difficulty and danger, an Indian had passed the besiegers' lines and borne them the unwelcome intelligence of D'Aubry's defeat and capture. From the earliest dawn, deep excitement had reigned in the beleaguered fort; while the shades of night still lingered under the tall forest trees, flashes of scattered musketry had occasionally burst forth. As the morning advanced, the dropping shots quickened into the sharp rattle of a skirmish, the sounds still approaching the besieged, and stimulating hopes of aid. A little before nine o'clock the skirmish had breezed up into a battle; for half an hour the line of fire waved to and fro, now bent toward the fort, again receded up the banks of the Great River, then held pertinaciously to a woody hollow, and at length fell back into the forest, became broken, interrupted, indistinct, and disappeared. With it vanished the last chance of succor for the garrison of Niagara.

When the first ardor of the pursuit had abated, and Sir William Johnson had got his forces somewhat in hand again, he sent Major Harvey with a flag of truce to inform the French chief of the morning's events, and to exhort him to surrender without further bloodshed, conveying also a terrible hint that in a little time he might not be able to restrain the fierce vengeance of his Indian allies. Pouchot yet doubted, or affected to doubt, the truth of the woeful disaster which had befallen his countrymen, and, still endeavoring to gain time, requested that one of his officers might be allowed to see the prisoners, and hear the tale of defeat from their own lips. The request was granted, the facts were ascertained, and, no further excuse for procrastination suggesting itself, the stubborn Frenchman then surrendered with his fort and garrison.[172]

The terms of capitulation were liberal, and worthy of both conquerors and conquered. It was agreed that the French troops should march out with the honors of war from the ramparts they had so well defended, and lay down their arms on the banks of the lake. There they were to embark immediately in vessels provided by Sir William Johnson, and to be carried to New York by the shortest and easiest route. The French ladies, and all females and children, were offered safe conveyance, subsistence, and escort to the nearest port of France: and the sick and wounded men were to be carefully tended till able to travel, when they were to rejoin their comrades. The victors undertook to protect their prisoners from every insult or injury, in person and in property. All stores, provisions, and arms, with every thing belonging to his most Christian majesty, were to be delivered up in strict faith by M. Pouchot. At seven o'clock in the morning of the 26th of July, a British guard was to take possession of the fort gates.

Accordingly, a little before mid-day on the 26th, the French garrison, 607 strong, marched out from the lost stronghold. Drums were beating, colors flying, and bayonets fixed; but the downcast and sullen looks of the bronzed veterans showed that these "honors of war" were but a mockery to their dejected hearts. Many a glance of angry sorrow and embittered regret was cast back upon the magnificent scene they were to revisit no more; never again was the "spotless flag" to flaunt its ample folds upon the breezes of the Western lakes; never again were the martial strains of France to sound through the majestic roar of nature's grandest wonder. A sufficient British guard attended under arms to keep the fierce and vindictive Indians at a distance. But the humane and extraordinary influence which Sir William Johnson exercised over the minds of his savage followers proved more effectual in restraining their ferocious passions than any mere show of force. The fear of alienating the allegiance of his Indians weighed not a feather weight in his loyal heart when the cause of mercy and his plighted word were at stake. For the successful exercise of his well-earned power over the red warriors, he must, upon this occasion, ever stand in most favorable contrast with Montcalm, his more brilliant rival.

Every article of the capitulation of Niagara was strictly observed in spirit and in letter: no insulting triumph dimmed the honor of British victory, but a demeanor of respectful sympathy with the vanquished characterized the gallant conquerors throughout the embarkation and all subsequent proceedings.

The English loss in this siege and in the action was very slight, with the exception of that of their worthy general, Prideaux, and of Colonel Johnson, a provincial officer of courage and capacity. Sir William Johnson enhanced the merit of his success by his modest and honorable dispatch to General Amherst. "I have only to regret," he writes, "the loss of General Prideaux and Colonel Johnson. I endeavored to pursue the late general's vigorous measures, the good effects of which he deserved to enjoy."

Historians have dwelt with admiration upon the striking military merit displayed at this time by two untaught generals, Clive in the East, and Johnson in the West, "who, by a series of shining actions have demonstrated that uninstructed genius can, by its own internal light and efficacy, rival, if not eclipse, the acquired art of discipline and experience." Thus writes Smollett: the learned doctor's remark is capable of far more general application than to the cases here mentioned. Our military system always has trusted, and still trusts, to this "uninstructed genius" in our chiefs, and by its own provisions furnished no teaching to a Marlborough and a Wellington beyond the knowledge of drill in a field day, and of the forms of discipline in a barrack yard. While we rest with pride and pleasure on the undoubted predominance of success over all foes which has attended our arms, we may not deny that to the never failing chivalry of the officers and to the stubborn courage of the soldiery are these successes due. Many and sad are the records of combats where torrents of British blood have flowed to redeem the errors, or to make amends for the want of military science in a British chief. Our great captains, great in genius and skill as well as in success, have indeed been "lone stars," presenting, in comparison, to those not so gifted, very much the proportion which "uninstructed genius" usually displays among men in other pursuits of life.

It may be urged that the officers of our instructed corps, the artillery and engineers, have never supplied the general service with a chief of conspicuous ability; but it is a remarkable fact that, except in the brief Syrian campaign of 1840, no member of those corps has ever led an English army, or even a brigade. Through the unvarying rule of promotion by seniority, no officer of artillery or engineers arrives at a sufficient rank to command, until a time of life when the experience of the veteran can hardly be aided by the energy of the man. Rare indeed must be the instances of those who have passed nearly half a century of service, in which the hope of reward was too faint to stimulate industry, the dread of censure too slight to alarm indolence, and who still retain sufficient zeal and vigor for their country's need. They are probably equally rare with the instances of successful "genius" among their uninstructed brethren of the rest of the British army.

Many worthy and earnest, though mistaken men there are, who dread the instruction of the toiling millions of our countrymen; who believe in all sincerity that the penetrating light of awakened intellect would flash upon the squalid purlieus of Manchester and Liverpool only to render degradation more degraded, and misery more miserable, by a keener appreciation. There can hardly, however be found any one, beyond those grown gray under the existing system, who fears that professional education could perniciously influence the qualifications of our officers for their station in life, or damp their undoubted chivalry and spirit. To cast aside political or personal considerations, and select for command the man most conspicuous by merit and genius, has not been an unvarying rule with those in high authority. But a system requiring the qualifications of at least a careful education[173]from all to whom the lofty trust of England's military honor is confided, might to a great extent supply the deficiencies of chiefs unendowed with the gift of genius, and undistinguished by pre-eminent merit.

By the capture of Niagara, the French posts to the westward, on the lakes and rivers, were cut off from all aid; and by the destruction of D'Aubry's army, composed principally of their garrisons, they were rendered incapable of any effectual resistance. Colonel Bouquet, therefore, who, with a small force, had been detached by Brigadier-general Stanwix against the principal of these, Presque Isle, Venango, and Le Bœuf, had only to summon them to surrender and then to take possession, with no greater difficulties than those presented by the long and rugged route.

We must now, for a moment, return to Colonel Haldimand, who was, as before related, left in command at Oswego by General Prideaux. In the forenoon of the 5th of July, while superintending the works at the fort, he was startled by the well-known sound of the Indian war-whoop close at hand, but no enemy then appeared. The English colonel immediately sent out scouts upon the lake, who brought word that an armament of 100 boats was lying in a neighboring cove. About mid-day some Indians and Canadians appeared in the borders of the forest near the fort, and made a show of attacking two detached redoubts, but were speedily driven back among the trees; from thence, however, they kept up a dropping fire, which was only silenced by the approach of night. A deserter who had passed over under cover of the darkness, gave information that the attacking party consisted of 300 colony troops, 1300 Canadian militia, and 150 Indians, and that M. de la Corne was in command. The French had hoped to carry the fort by surprise: their zeal was stimulated by the vindictive fury of a Canadian priest, named Piquet, who marched at their head till the fire commenced, urged them on with the hope of plunder, and denounced all who might give quarter to the heretic enemy.

The night passed without any alarm. At first dawn, however, the dusky forms of the Indians were seen cautiously approaching the western angle of the intrenchments, and mustering for an attack. But two guns loaded with grape, and a sharp volley of musketry from the fort, at once drove them back yelling into the woods. After a time they gathered sufficient determination to make an attempt at burning the English boats in the harbor, which they again and again repeated, but always without success. M. de la Corne did not bring his French troops into action. Finding Colonel Haldimand well prepared for his reception, he abandoned the enterprise, having buried his dead, and carried off his wounded to the boats. The French chief acquired little honor by this impotent demonstration; not a prisoner rewarded his efforts, nor did he obtain a single scalp, although the deserters affirmed that he had offered 1000 livres for one such horrible trophy. The fierce priest, Piquet, gained a reputation for cruelty and ferocity which was not forgotten when Canada had passed from the sway of France.

Thus every where in the far West success attended the British arms. One small fort, indeed, at the remote extremity of Lake Erie, on the banks of the Detroit River, still remained in the possession of France, but distance and comparative insignificance were its sole protection: shut out from supplies or re-enforcements, and feebly garrisoned, it only awaited the summons to surrender. The English force on Lake Ontario rested upon their arms after their somewhat easy victory; Amherst's strength, as we have seen, lay paralyzed by the opposing winds on Lake Champlain; the plan of the campaign as yet had failed. Opposition had been overpowered, forts taken, guns, trophies, and stores captured, but still, at the vital point, at the great Canadian stronghold, from the lofty headland of Quebec, the wise and gallant Montcalm, with an outnumbering host, looked down in unshaken confidence upon the invader's force. There the real battle was to be fought; there alone the die was to be cast which should decide the fate of France's noblest colony. Time rolled on, spring had warmed into summer; summer now deepened into autumn; the broad sycamore leaf drooped upon the stem; the rich foliage of the maple betrayed in its chameleon tints the approaching fall; the mysterious northern lights reappeared in the chilly darkness, and illumined the unclouded sky. Still, while these symptoms of the coming winter crowded upon the eyes of the British generals on Champlain and Ontario, they gained no tidings of their colleague's fate, save such vague rumors as a wandering Indian or a false deserter might convey; and yet, with wonder be it said, they sat them down to rest, and inactively awaited the event of that all-important struggle.

FOOTNOTES:[171]He was a captain in the regiment of Berri.[172]"Le Général Prideaux avoit été charge de l'attaque de Niagara; ce fort situé près de la fameuse cataracte pouvoit être considéré comme le point militaire le plus important du Canada; il commande, en effet, le passage qui sert de communication entre le Lac Erie et le Lac Ontarío, en sorte qu'il sert de clef à la navigation de ce vastes mers intérieures; il commande en même temps la seule communication par terre entre les régions situées au nord et midi du fleuve et des Grands Lacs. Les Français connoissoient toute la valeur de cette position admirable; mais abandonnés comme ils étoient par la mère-patrie, ayant consumé pendant cinq ans leurs soldats, leurs armes, leurs munitions, à se défendre par leurs seules ressources, ils n'avoient pu mettre que six cents hommes dans Niagara, et ils n'en purent pas rassembler plus de dix-sept cents parmi les milices Canadiennes et leurs sauvages alliés, pour marcher à la délivrance de cette fortresse. Le Général Prideaux en avoit commencé l'attaque depuis peu de jours, lorque le 20 Juillet il fut tué à la tranchée; Sir W. Johnson qui le remplaça, continua l'attaque avec le même vigueur. Le 25 Juillet il livra bataille à la petite armée qui s'avançoit au secours de la place assiégée, il la défit avec un grand carnage, et le même jour le fort capitula, et la garnison de six cents hommes qu'il centenoit se livra prisonnière de guerre."[174]Sismondi gives the following reason for his exclusive use of English authorities throughout his narration of the last French war in Canada: "Car les Français se sont refusés à donner aucun détail sur des combats dont les résultats étoient si funestes, encore que leurs compatriotes y eussent deployé souvent autant d'héroisme que dans les victoires."[173]An order has at length been issued that all candidates for commissions shall pass a certain examination in general acquirements.[174]Annual Register, 1759, vol. ii., chap. vi., p. 29; Smollett, vol. vii., b. iv., chap. xi., § xiii., p. 56.

[171]He was a captain in the regiment of Berri.

[172]"Le Général Prideaux avoit été charge de l'attaque de Niagara; ce fort situé près de la fameuse cataracte pouvoit être considéré comme le point militaire le plus important du Canada; il commande, en effet, le passage qui sert de communication entre le Lac Erie et le Lac Ontarío, en sorte qu'il sert de clef à la navigation de ce vastes mers intérieures; il commande en même temps la seule communication par terre entre les régions situées au nord et midi du fleuve et des Grands Lacs. Les Français connoissoient toute la valeur de cette position admirable; mais abandonnés comme ils étoient par la mère-patrie, ayant consumé pendant cinq ans leurs soldats, leurs armes, leurs munitions, à se défendre par leurs seules ressources, ils n'avoient pu mettre que six cents hommes dans Niagara, et ils n'en purent pas rassembler plus de dix-sept cents parmi les milices Canadiennes et leurs sauvages alliés, pour marcher à la délivrance de cette fortresse. Le Général Prideaux en avoit commencé l'attaque depuis peu de jours, lorque le 20 Juillet il fut tué à la tranchée; Sir W. Johnson qui le remplaça, continua l'attaque avec le même vigueur. Le 25 Juillet il livra bataille à la petite armée qui s'avançoit au secours de la place assiégée, il la défit avec un grand carnage, et le même jour le fort capitula, et la garnison de six cents hommes qu'il centenoit se livra prisonnière de guerre."[174]Sismondi gives the following reason for his exclusive use of English authorities throughout his narration of the last French war in Canada: "Car les Français se sont refusés à donner aucun détail sur des combats dont les résultats étoient si funestes, encore que leurs compatriotes y eussent deployé souvent autant d'héroisme que dans les victoires."

Sismondi gives the following reason for his exclusive use of English authorities throughout his narration of the last French war in Canada: "Car les Français se sont refusés à donner aucun détail sur des combats dont les résultats étoient si funestes, encore que leurs compatriotes y eussent deployé souvent autant d'héroisme que dans les victoires."

[173]An order has at length been issued that all candidates for commissions shall pass a certain examination in general acquirements.

[174]Annual Register, 1759, vol. ii., chap. vi., p. 29; Smollett, vol. vii., b. iv., chap. xi., § xiii., p. 56.

From the indifferent progress of Amherst and the untoward inactivity of Gage, we may now return to the more stirring events of the expedition against Quebec. Early in February a considerable squadron was equipped in the English ports for North America, under the command of Admiral Saunders.[175]A land force was to proceed under convoy of the fleet for the same destination. Pitt justly estimated the importance and difficulty of the enterprise. He looked around in vain among the senior officers of the army for a chief worthy of the occasion. Judging that, among them, the advantages of experience were more than counterbalanced by the infirmities of age, he determined to trust the military honor of England to the elastic vigor and sanguine confidence of youth.

While yet a boy,James Wolfehad received the thanks of his general, the Duke of Cumberland, on the field of La Feldt; rapid promotion had followed this distinction. As lieutenant-colonel of a regiment, the young officer had justified the notice of his superiors. He was appointed to the staff in the inglorious expedition against Rochefort, and gathered laurels where all was barren to his associates. At the siege of Louisburg his transcendent merit shone in the strong light of opportunity and success, and when still in early manhood he had gained a fair maturity of fame. In him ambition was exalted by patriotism and purified by religion. Modest in manners and conversation, he nevertheless possessed in action self-reliance almost to presumption. With the prize of honorable distinction in view, his daring courage foiled every danger and difficulty, and "obstacles were but the stepping stones to his success." He commanded the confidence and respect of the rude soldiers, in spite of an almost feminine sensibility. When reverses for a moment damped his hope, they at the same time served to brace his energy. Ardent and laborious, daring and provident, practical and studious, pertinacious yet reasonable, he was dignified in command and docile in obedience. Gifted, gentle, and generous, earnest in life and devoted in death, history may grace her page with the name of no greater hero when she records the deeds of many a greater general.

Wolfe returned to England from Louisburg in the end of the year 1758. He suffered severely from an illness, for which repose offered the only chance of relief, and an early prospect of the realization of a long and dearly-cherished hope drew him to home. But his aspiring spirit would not yield either to the weakness of his frame or to the strength of his affection, and almost immediately after landing from America, he addressed Mr. Pitt in a modest and manly letter, and offered his services for the next American campaign.

Wolfe's name stood high in the esteem of all who were qualified to judge, but, at the same time, it stood low in the column of colonels in the Army List. The great minister thought that the former counterbalanced the latter. With instinctive genius, he discerned that the young soldier possessed the peculiar qualifications suited for his purpose, and, throwing aside the obstacles presented by official routine, he recommended the gallant brigadier of Louisburg to the especial notice of the king. One of the last gazettes in the year 1758 announced the promotion of Colonel James Wolfe to the rank of major-general, and his appointment to the chief command of the expedition against Quebec.

About the middle of February, 1759, the squadron sailed from England to Louisburg, where the whole of the British force destined for the River St. Lawrence was ordered to assemble. On the 21st of April Saunders and his armament reached the coast of Cape Breton, but the harbors were still blocked up with the ice of the preceding winter, and he could not enter. He then bent his course for Halifax, on the neighboring peninsula of Nova Scotia, and anchored the whole fleet in that magnificent sea port. Twenty-two ships of the line, five frigates, and nineteen smaller vessels of war, with a crowd of transports, were mustered under the orders of the admiral, and a detachment of Artillery and Engineers, and ten battalions of Infantry, with six companies of Rangers, formed Wolfe's command; the right flank companies of the three regiments which still garrisoned Louisburg soon after joined the army, and were formed into a corps called the Louisburg Grenadiers. The total of the land forces embarked were somewhat under 8000. Two thousand Infantry, which had formed part of the expedition to the West Indies, under Hodgson, were to have increased Wolfe's strength, but, owing to unavoidable circumstances, they were subsequently countermanded.

Before leaving England Admiral Saunders had received intelligence that the French would make an effort to run a convoy up the River St. Lawrence for the relief of Quebec, at the first opening of the navigation. He therefore dispatched Admiral Durell with a small squadron to intercept it. From Halifax Saunders proceeded to Louisburg as soon as the breaking up of the ice permitted, and there held counsel with Wolfe upon the plan of the expedition. On the 15th of May he issued a general order to the fleet, that, in case of any temporary separation from adverse weather or other accidents, Gaspé Bay, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, was to be the first place of rendezvous, and the island of Bic, 340 miles up the Great River, the next.

It was not, however, till the 1st of June that the British ships began to weigh anchor in Louisburg Harbor, and the huge armament had not altogether cleared the land for six days afterward. While spreading sail, the admiral received the unwelcome news that three French frigates and a cloud of store vessels had escaped Durell's squadron and reached Quebec in safety. Two prizes were captured, however, which had lagged somewhat behind, and they, besides a quantity of powder and other munition, contained French charts of the River St. Lawrence, the possession of which proved of great importance to the British fleet.

A cheerful and confident spirit pervaded all ranks and services in the expedition. A portion of the troops, among whom were the gallant 43d, had been for a considerable time doomed to unwilling inactivity upon the dreary shores of Nova Scotia and Cape Breton; they especially were filled with hopeful enthusiasm: as each successive transport cleared the harbor and the broad expanse of sea appeared, shouts of joy burst from the soldiers on the crowded decks.

On the 7th the fleet made the coast of Newfoundland, still covered with the winter's snow; on the 9th it passed the Bird Islands in a stiff breeze, and on the 11th made the headland of Gaspé. The desolate and dangerous island of Anticosti was passed during the 13th with "most delightful weather and favorable breezes; the fleet well together." Early in the morning of the 18th they cast anchor within sight of the island of Bic, where they found the Richmond frigate, which had got some distance in advance, perhaps urged forward by the eager spirit of Wolfe, who was on board. The next day they again sailed; on the 20th they were becalmed off the mouth of the deep and gloomy Saguenay, and many of the smaller vessels narrowly escaped being dashed against each other by the powerful currents. In the night a favorable breeze arose, and cleared them from their perilous entanglement, and now, at noon the following day, the first Canadian settlement came in sight. On the 22d a French ship was taken, on board of which were several nuns and some ladies of distinction, a relation of the Marquis de Vaudreuil, governor of Canada, among the number: they were treated with the greatest respect and courtesy, and immediately sent back to Quebec under a flag of truce.

On the 23d the fleet passed the Narrows between Isle au Condre and the shore, and in the evening came to anchor opposite the little settlement of St. Joseph. There the first act of hostility took place: the inhabitants fired upon some sounding boats which had neared the shore; this was answered by a small detachment of the 15th Regiment, sent in a barge for the protection of the sounders; little or no damage, however, was inflicted by either party. In revenge for this attack, the little Canadian village was subsequently burned, and the fields laid waste by a body of British troops from before Quebec.[176]On the 25th the difficult passage of "the Traverse" was made in safety, and on the following day the armament anchored off the fair and fertile island of Orleans, and the troops received orders of readiness to land.

About midnight, Lieutenant Meech and forty Rangers rowed silently toward the shore, and, unobserved by the Canadians, effected a landing. Leaving their boats, they pushed on through the darkness almost to the northern side of the island; suddenly they came upon a numerous body of armed peasants, who were engaged in burying different valuables for safety against the invaders. The few shots which were speedily exchanged showed the Rangers that they were outnumbered, and that a bold front was the only chance of safety. A smart skirmish ensued; the Canadians, surprised by the unexpected attack, and not aware what force might support their assailants, gave way, and retired in confusion. Lieutenant Meech, happy in having escaped the danger, also fell back, and took refuge in a farm-house till the morning. During the night the inhabitants abandoned the island.

The troops landed early on the 27th in a cove under the Church of St. Lawrence, which sacred building they were implored to respect, through the means of a placard directed to "the worthy officers of the British army." The soldiers were charmed with the beauty and richness of the island, and their comparative freedom after the weary voyage; but the mind of their young general was filled with deep and anxious interest by the sight of the stronghold that stood boldly out into the river a few miles above. Accompanied by the chief engineer, Major M'Kellar, and an escort of Light Infantry, Wolfe, as soon as he landed, pushed on to the extremity of the island nearest to Quebec. A magnificent but disheartening scene lay before him. On the summit of the highest eminence, over the strait in the Great River from whence the basin before him opened, the French flag waved. The crest of the rocky height was crowned with formidable works redoubted and flanked. On every favorable spot above, below, or on the rugged ascent, were batteries bristling with guns. This stronghold formed the right flank of a position eight miles in extent; the falls, and the deep and rapid stream of the Montmorency, was the left. The shoals and rocks of the St. Lawrence protected the broad front, and the rich valley of the St. Charles, with the prosperous and beautiful villages of Charlesburg and Beauport, gave shelter and hospitality in the rear. A crested bank of some height over the Great River marked the main line of the defenses from east to west; parapets, flanked at every favorable spot, aided their natural strength. Crowding on this embattled bank, swarming in the irregular village streets, and formed in masses on the hills beyond, were 12,000 French and Canadian troops, led by the gallant Montcalm.

While Wolfe still gazed upon this appalling prospect a storm gathered over his head, and burst in sudden violence. The teeming rain fell like a vail between him and the beautiful but dangerous shore. Lightning hissed through the air, and a hurricane swept over the river with destructive strength. Transports were driven from their moorings and cast ashore; smaller boats were dashed against each other and swamped, and the vessels of war with difficulty held to their anchors. Silently and thoughtfully the young general retraced his steps to the landing-place, his sanguine and sensitive spirit oppressed for a moment with the difficulties of his enterprise, and by the gloomy omen of the heavens. But, before he rejoined the army, the weight was flung aside; the elastic spring of his mind had resumed its play, and he entered the camp with head erect and his usual bright and fearless aspect. He did not forget that he received his high command in the confidence that "no dangers or difficulties should discourage him."

The storm passed away as suddenly as it came; the evening of the 27th fell calm and serene, but very dark; a few stars only were faintly reflected from the surface of the waters. As the British sentinels paced slowly to and fro upon the rocky shore of the island of Orleans facing toward Quebec, the silence of the night was only broken by the echo of their own footsteps and the ripple of the rapidly receding tide. About midnight a soldier on one of the most advanced points called the attention of his comrades on the neighboring posts to some dark objects moving along the river—slowly, as if drifting with the tide in the direction of the fleet, or rather toward some shoals to the northward of the fleet, which had been marked out by buoys during the preceding day. While the sentinels were yet debating about giving the alarm, each of the dark objects sent forth a crashing salvo of artillery; grape-shot rattled among the rocks and trees upon the shore, and plowed up the surrounding waters. Shells and grenades leaped into the air, and exploded with loud reports, now here, now there, on every side of the astounded soldiers. At the same time bright red flames burst from these fire-ships, sprung up among the masts and spars, quivered through the distinctly visible tracery of the rigging, and spread out in broad sheets over the collapsing sails. The river, the hostile camps, the city, and the distant mountains, instantly stood revealed as in noonday by this lurid light. As the blaze spread, explosion after explosion racked the burning vessels; they staggered and spun half round under the shocks; but still the ebb tide swept them rapidly on, near to where the crowded transports lay.

This strange and terrible sight struck the sentries with uncontrollable panic; they fled from their posts, carried their terrors to their pickets, and all retired hastily toward the English camp. Falling in upon each other in the woods, they became utterly confused. The alarm spread; the whole line turned out, loaded their muskets, and prepared somewhat unsteadily for action. Order and confidence were not fully restored till daylight showed that there was no enemy at hand.

In the mean time, upon the river, where real danger threatened, it was happily met with cool and courageous skill. As soon as the premature ignition of the fire-ships gave the alarm to the fleet, a number of well-manned boats put off and pulled toward them. The sailors waited until the guns were discharged and the powder exploded; then fixed grappling irons upon the burning vessels, and towed them leisurely ashore, where those least injured were anchored; the rest drifted with the tide upon the rocks, and soon broke into harmless ruin. Then, to the sharp report of cannon and grenade, succeeded the cheerful and sonorous "All's well" of the British seamen.

On the following morning, the 28th of June, Wolfe published a manifesto to the Canadian people to the following effect: "We have a powerful armament. We are sent by the English king to conquer this province, but not to make war upon women and children, the ministers of religion, or industrious peasants. We lament the sufferings which our invasion may inflict upon you, but, if you remain neuter, we proffer you safety in person and property, and freedom in religion. We are masters of the river; no succor can reach you from France. General Amherst, with a large army, assails your southern frontier. Your cause is hopeless, your valor useless. Your nation have been guilty of great cruelties to our unprotected settlers; but we seek not revenge: we offer you the sweets of peace amid the horrors of war. England, in her strength, will befriend you; France, in her weakness, leaves you to your fate."

This judicious proclamation was, however, at first, of little or no avail. The Canadian clergy used their utmost endeavors to excite their flocks against the heretical invaders, and implored them not to trust to British promises. Hereditary hatred of the haughty islanders still existed in the hearts of even the transatlantic French. The counter-proclamations and threats of Montcalm also bewildered the unhappy peasantry. He threatened them with death if they refused to serve, and with the fury of the savages if they aided the English. In consequence, the "habitans" generally used their best exertions to embarrass the invaders and to assist the defense. They followed the French banners pretty freely, and furnished such supplies to the army as their means allowed. Not content with this, they gave the rein to the fierce passions which intercourse with the Indians had strengthened. They scalped without mercy all the English that fell into their hands, massacred the wounded, and mutilated the dead. Wolfe appealed to his gallant enemy to put a stop to these atrocities; but Montcalm's authority was insufficient to restrain the savages, and their almost as savage allies; and it must be admitted, to our shame, that the British general was, in consequence, induced to connive at a vindictive retaliation. Ultimately Wolfe issued the following strange and somewhat conditional order: "The general strictly forbids the inhuman practice of scalping,exceptwhen the enemy are Indians, or Canadians dressed like Indians." At the same time, however, he threatened with the punishment of death all who might offer cruelty to women, and decreed the severest penalties against plundering. The last order was ineffectual, for the soldiers plundered in all directions.

While the British fleet had been slowly ascending the river, Montcalm and his followers were busily preparing to receive it. They labored unceasingly to add to the great natural strength of the country about Quebec. Parapets were thrown up upon every vulnerable point, guns mounted, and, above all, no efforts were spared to organize the numerous but somewhat doubtful forces of the Canadian peasantry. Five veteran French battalions, filled up by picked men from the colonial levies, and two battalions of the "marine," or "colony troops," also trained soldiers, formed the main strength of his army. The armed peasantry or militia were chiefly posted for the defense of the long line of works between Quebec and Montmorency, and several tribes of friendly Indians hovered about among the neighboring woods.

The Canadians trusted much to the supposed difficulty of the river navigation, and were inexpressibly disappointed when a preconcerted signal announced that the vast British armament had passed the Narrows in safety. When the crowding sails were seen rounding the isle of Orleans, the people, in despair, flew to the churches to offer up their prayers for the preservation of their country. At first the van of Admiral Durell's squadron hoisted French colors, and the joyful rumor spread along the shore that a fleet had arrived to their aid from France. Pilots hastened on board to offer assistance to their supposed friends; but when they were detained, and the British flag was hoisted instead of the French, the pleasing illusion was dispelled. A Canadian priest stood gazing delightedly upon the ships through a telescope: he was so overwhelmed with consternation when he perceived the mistake that he fell down and died.

The storm had taught the British admiral that the channel between the island of Orleans and the south shore was neither a safe nor a convenient anchorage; he therefore determined to pass up into the basin with his whole fleet. Information had, however, been received that the French occupied, in some force of infantry and artillery, a headland called Point Levi, which is opposite to the headland of Quebec, and which, with the latter, forms the strait at the entrance of the basin. From this commanding position the enemy's guns might seriously annoy the English ships. Saunders therefore requested General Wolfe to drive the French away from this point, and to occupy it himself.

On the evening of the 29th of June, Brigadier-general Monckton, with his brigade of four battalions and some Light Infantry and Rangers, were formed on the southwestern extremity of the island of Orleans, in readiness to pass over against Point Levi. Through some unforeseen delay, they did not embark till dusk, and the light troops, with one regiment only, were enabled to cross the river before the ebb of tide rendered further movement impossible for the present. The remaining three regiments lay for the night on their arms by the shore. The troops which had embarked landed without opposition, and contented themselves with taking possession of Beaumont Church on the south shore; there they barricaded themselves, lighted watch-fires, and awaited the morning.

At earliest daylight Monckton embarked the rest of his brigade and pushed across to the advance. The sound of musketry from the southern shore soon stimulated the exertions of the rowers, and, as the scattered shots breezed up into a skirmish, they used their utmost efforts to increase their speed. The troops scarcely waited to form after landing, but hastened on to the church where their comrades had passed the night. There, however, they only met with a couple of wounded men; the Light Infantry had speedily overpowered a detachment of colony troops, and were still pressing hard upon their retreating footsteps through the wood. The English brigadier found the banks of the river steep, the country rugged and difficult: a few resolute men might have embarrassed or baffled his expedition.

In the mean time the British light troops had arrested the pursuit at a large farm-house at the foot of the hill which rises into the headland of Point Levi; they deemed it prudent to secrete themselves there, lest the enemy should return with re-enforcements before the succors arrived from Orleans, and also because there was plenty of provisions, some plunder, and a good fire. While the English soldiers were availing themselves of these advantages, they were alarmed by hearing voices close at hand: they seized their arms, searched the house and the surrounding thickets without discovering any one. They at length determined to fire the building and fall back upon the church. In a few moments the farm-house was in a blaze. Then, to their horror, loud shrieks of women and children burst from the burning ruins; they hastened back, and used their best endeavors to save the sufferers, but in vain; while they yet strove, the roof fell in with a crash, and all was silent. The miserable victims had hidden themselves in a cellar at the approach of the British troops. After this horrible incident the Light Infantry fell back to Beaumont Church, where they found the whole of Monckton's brigade assembled.

At ten o'clock the brigadier moved upon the heights of Point Levi, preceded by a cloud of skirmishers. The way lay over a pleasant road, with a highly cultivated country on either side, and was not disputed till the British troops began to ascend the hill. They soon forced the height, and hurried on to the village facing Quebec. Here, however, they received a check. A strong body of Canadians threw themselves into the church and the adjoining houses, and another detachment held stoutly to a rocky eminence further to the rear. The English rallied and gained possession of the buildings, but were speedily dislodged again; the position was not finally won till the 78th Highlanders forced the flank in overwhelming numbers, and Monckton himself, with four companies of Grenadiers, broke through the front. The Canadians and Indians, who had fought so stoutly, although not altogether more than 1000 strong, crossed over to Quebec when evening fell. The British brigade housed themselves luxuriously in the neat village of Point Levi: no guns fell into their hands, nor were any works in progress on that side of the river.

Montcalm felt that the assailants had gained a dangerous advantage in the possession of Point Levi. Although at a distance of three quarters of a mile from the city, heavy ordnance played from thence with ruinous effect. In a council of war he had urged that 4000 men should be strongly intrenched upon this position, with orders to hold it to the last extremity; but his opinion was overruled by the governor, M. de Vaudreuil, and from that time a fatal alienation arose between the two French authorities. However, in the morning of the 1st of July, Montcalm made a feeble effort to dislodge the British, by attacking their position from three floating batteries. For an hour and a half the French continued an annoying but almost harmless fire. Then Saunders dispatched the Trent frigate to check the insult; favorable winds carried her up to the scene of action, and a broadside concluded the business.

From that time Wolfe exerted himself to put Point Levi beyond the reach of further insult; batteries were thrown up, and guns mounted in commanding situations. In the afternoon skirmishes took place, both in the woods near this new position and on the island of Orleans; some lives were lost without any result, and both parties behaved with savage cruelty. On the following morning this useless mischief was continued: the same evening Wolfe made a reconnoissance in some force up the right bank of the river, and marked out the ground for batteries to bombard the town. Some of the Rangers under Major Scott penetrated as far as the Chaudière River in this advance, but performed nothing worthy of notice.

The 48th Regiment, the Grenadiers and Light Infantry of the division, and the Rangers, with working parties from other corps, broke ground upon the high lands to the west of Point Levi on the 5th of July. They labored with zeal, and the batteries which were to play from thence upon Quebec soon began to assume a formidable appearance. The Rangers took post during the day in small parties upon the adjoining hills, which commanded the several approaches to the works, and erected small breast-works for their defense, while they guarded against the sudden approach of an enemy. In the mean time a portion of Townsend's brigade, under Colonel Carleton, was engaged in throwing up strong intrenchments on the westernmost point of Orleans. When these two positions were occupied, the safety of the fleet in the basin was assured; nevertheless, by some unaccountable temerity or carelessness, the Leostoff cutter allowed herself to be surprised and taken by the enemy while sounding. This little incident brought on a brisk cannonade, which continued for nearly two hours, without, however, causing damage to either party.

When the works on Point Levi and on the western extremity of the island of Orleans were in a respectably defensible condition, Wolfe turned his attention to the north shore of the St. Lawrence, where a favorable position offered for threatening the French left. On the morning of the 9th the lighter vessels of the British fleet hauled in to the shore as close as the depth of water would permit, and opened a fire upon the enemy's lines between Quebec and the Falls of Montmorency. The range was distant; nevertheless, the seamen plied their guns with such effect that Montcalm found it necessary to strike the encampments near the shore, and retire upon the high crest which extended along his whole front: there he was beyond reach of annoyance. At the first dawn, Monckton's brigade, with the exception of the working parties, was formed on the slopes of the hills opposite Quebec, and ostentatiously marched up the left bank of the St. Lawrence westward from Point Levi. The object of the bombardment by the ships, and this movement of the troops, was to divert the attention of the enemy from Wolfe's real object, which was to establish himself upon the north shore by the Falls of Montmorency.

The movement of Monckton's corps was marked by an incident pre-eminently lamentable, even among daily scenes of death and misery. A lieutenant of Rangers, with twenty men, was sent to scour the woods to the southward of the line of march, and, if possible, to gain information of the enemy's movements. They pressed forward with somewhat rash zeal into the woody solitudes, and, being overtaken by the night, lay on their arms and returned the next morning. While retracing their steps, they were attracted by smoke rising from a neighboring clearing. They approached having spread themselves in a circle, to prevent the escape of those they might discover. The smoke proceeded from a log hut, where they found and captured a man and his three sons, the eldest a youth of fifteen years. The Rangers then hurried homeward with their prize. They had not got far on their road when the horrible war-whoop of the Indians rose behind them, and a glance showed that their assailants were in overpowering numbers. There was, however, still hope of escape, for the Rangers were hardy and active men, skilled in forest craft, and, happily, well acquainted with the rugged and intricate paths. They plunged into the woods at a running pace, and in a few minutes emerged into another road unknown to their fierce pursuers. But here an unfortunate difficulty arose: the elder prisoners were hurried along, unwillingly enough, but in terrified silence; not so the two younger, who were mere children: they filled the air with lamentations and cries of alarm that neither entreaties nor threats could check. The British lieutenant then begged of them to leave him and return home; but the poor innocents only clung the more closely to him, and wailed the louder. The sole chance of escape lay in reaching, unobserved, a pass which led to the new position of Monckton's brigade, and by which the Indians might not expect them to retreat. The hapless children, however, by their screams, guided the savages in their pursuit through the tangled woods, and again the war-whoop sounded close behind the fugitives. An awful moment of irresolution was succeeded by an awful resolve; the British officer, with a mournful heart, gave the order that his young prisoners should be silenced forever. The Rangers reached the brigade in safety before evening.

While the attention of the enemy was distracted by Monckton and the fleet, Wolfe passed over from Orleans to the eastward of Montmorency, with a large force, at about one o'clock in the day, and encamped, unopposed, on the left bank of the stream close to the falls. He immediately placed some Light Artillery in position, and commenced intrenching himself. The works were vigorously continued the following morning, and Captain Dank's company of Rangers were pushed forward into the woods to cover some parties who were engaged in making fascines for the intrenchments. The Rangers had scarcely entered the bush when they were suddenly and fiercely assailed by a considerable body of ambushed Indians, and driven back with considerable loss. When they got into the open ground, however, they rallied; the savages, elated with their first success, pressed boldly on and renewed the combat, forcing the British troops back over the fields toward the camp, and scalping and massacring the wounded in the sight of their comrades. But the state of affairs was soon changed; some advanced companies of Townshend's brigade, with two field-pieces hurried out on hearing the firing: they fell on the flank of the Indians, and slaughtered them without mercy.

The plan of Wolfe's operations was now fairly developed. The mass of his army was formed in threatening array upon the extreme left of the French position, and from a considerable height looked down almost into the rear of their intrenchments. The British general had hoped that from hence he might find a ford across the rapid stream of the Montmorency, and force on an action in the open country behind the enemy's lines; there he doubted not that the courage and discipline of his troops would give him an easy victory over the numerous Canadian levies. But he had altogether mistaken the difficulties of the undertaking. The only ford was three miles up the stream; the bush was so dense and the country so rugged that a few Indians sufficed to baffle his repeated attempts to reconnoiter, and killed or wounded no less than forty of his men. He could no longer endure the slaughter of his magnificent Light Infantry by the hands of unseen savages, and altogether abandoned the idea of crossing the river above the falls.

Montcalm quickly perceived the dangerous error of the English in dividing their small army. As soon as Monckton's brigade commenced to plant their guns on Point Levi, 1500 Canadians and savages were pushed across the St. Lawrence from Quebec, and posted in the woods on the right bank: they reconnoitered the English position, and, having obtained a re-enforcement of 300 colony troops, prepared for an attack on the night of the 13th. M. de Charrier, seigneur of Point Levi, a skillful and a resolute man, commanded the assailants; meanwhile, Wolfe, on hearing of the enemy's movements, had taken the command, in person, at the south side of the river. The night came on still and cloudless, but very dark; the weather was intensely hot, and the British troops, wearied with the labors of the day, lay in profound repose, not dreaming that the French would venture a night attack. The sentries, indeed, paced their rounds, but, unconscious of the danger that lay under the dark shadows of the neighboring forest, they still shouted "All's well" as each hour passed away.

The French advanced in two columns, silently, and at first with great steadiness; as they proceeded, the difficulty of the road and the extreme darkness of the night threw them into some confusion; despite the skill of their leader and his perfect knowledge of the ground, the disorder increased. The most perfect discipline and self-confidence are rarely proof against the hazards of a night attack; among raw levies, such as were the bulk of De Charrier's followers, disorder, once commenced, becomes inextricable. While he yet strove to re-form the broken ranks, an unexplained noise in a coppice by the road side struck the Canadians with sudden panic, and they rapidly retraced their steps. The rear column, hearing the approach of numerous footsteps from the front, supposed that the English were upon them, and poured a close volley among the fugitives, who again, under a like mistake, returned the fire. The bloodshed was only stayed by both parties flying in different directions. Not less than seventy of the French were killed and wounded in this untoward enterprise. The attempt was not renewed.

The British batteries being completed at Point Levi and at Montmorency, a fire of guns and mortars was poured night and day upon the city of Quebec, and upon the French lines to the westward. The enemy replied with spirit, but with little effect. The Lower Town was much damaged by the constant bombardment from the opposite side of the river, and at eleven o'clock on the forenoon of the 16th, a fire broke out in the Upper Town, where a shell had fallen. The flames spread with rapidity, fanned by a strong northwest wind; many buildings were destroyed before the conflagration was arrested; among others the great Cathedral, with all its paintings, images, and ornaments. The defenses remained untouched throughout this lamentable destruction; the assailants only diminished the value of the prize for which they strove, without approaching a whit nearer to its attainment.

Wolfe returned to the north camp on the 16th, and pushed the works above the Falls of Montmorency with vigor. He frequently, during the day, sent out detachments of troops to scour the neighboring woods, and to keep the marauding Indians in check. The savages hovered constantly round the British position, and from their ambush sprang like tigers upon those who ventured unprotected within their reach. On the night of the 16th they surprised and scalped four sentries of the Louisburg Grenadiers. While Wolfe busied himself in strengthening his position, and cannonading the French lines at a distance, M. de Levi, a distinguished French officer, solicited Montcalm to drive him away. "Dislodge him thence, and he will give us more trouble," replied Montcalm, "while there he can not hurt us; let him amuse himself."

The British general determined to reconnoiter the banks of the river above the town, while he still continued his preparations below. With this view, a small squadron under Captain Rous sailed with fair wind and tide a little before midnight on the 18th, and passed up unharmed in the face of the enemy's batteries. One frigate, however, the Diana, ran aground near Point Levi, and could not be got off till the following day. This bold passage was a complete surprise to the besieged: the English ships were not observed by the sentries till it was too late to bring their guns to bear. Two of these unhappy soldiers paid the penalty of death for their carelessness: they were hung on a gibbet the following morning, in sight of both armies.

Montcalm lost no time in sending some guns up the left bank of the river to annoy the British squadron; he erected a battery in a suitable position at a place called Sillery, and compelled Rous to weigh anchor and move up the stream. The French artillerymen had not been long inactive after this achievement when they were again called to their guns; a barge was discovered skirting the southern shore, and steering toward the nearest English ship. They gave her a salvo as she went by, and one shot carried away her mast; before they could reload she was out of reach. General Wolfe was in this barge on his way to reconnoiter the upper river.

Wolfe found the aspect of affairs as unpromising above the town as it was below; the banks were every where high and precipitous; at each assailable point intrenchments more or less formidable had been thrown up, and each movement was jealously watched from the shore. However, to divide and harass the enemy, and in the hope of procuring intelligence, he sent Colonel Carleton, who commanded the troops embarked in Rous's squadron, to make a descent upon the small town of Point aux Trembles, to which many of the inhabitants of Quebec had retired with their stores, papers, and valuables.

Carleton landed on the 22d at the head of three companies of Grenadiers and a battalion of the Royal Americans; a few Indians offered some resistance at first, and wounded several of the leading files, but were soon overpowered and driven into the woods. A number of useless prisoners, some plunder, and several packets of letters, fell into the hands of the English. The latter were of importance. "De Vaudreuil, the governor, and Montcalm have disagreed, and endeavor to embarrass each other," quotes one writer. "But for respect for our priests, and fear of the savages, we would submit," writes the next. "We are without hope, and without food," says a third. "Since the English have passed the town, our communication with Montreal is cut off—God has forsaken us," laments another. The misery of the besieged was great, therefore great also was the hope of the besiegers.

To increase the distress of the enemy, an order was issued from the English head-quarters on the 24th of July. "Our out-parties are to burn and lay waste the country for the future, sparing only churches, or houses dedicated to divine worship." However, it was again repeated, "that women and children are not to be molested, on any account whatsoever." We may suppose men received scant mercy. "We played so warmly on the town last night, that a fire broke out in two different parts of it at eleven o'clock, which burned with great rapidity until near three this morning. We are erecting a new six-gun battery to the right of the others, to keep the town in ruins, which appears to be almost destroyed." So writes an officer of the 43d, in his journal, dated Point Levi, 25th of July, 1759. Such is war, even when Wolfe, the pious, the domestic, and the tender-hearted, was the general!

On the 26th the indefatigable British general proceeded up the left bank of the Montmorency River to reconnoiter some works which the enemy were erecting on the opposite side. His escort was attacked by a swarm of Indians, and for a time hardly pressed; many of the English soldiers were struck down before they could get sight of their subtle enemy; and when the savages were finally silenced, it was with the loss of nearly fifty of Wolfe's men killed and wounded. The next morning the 78th Highlanders surprised a French detachment, and slew nine of them; their own colonel and a captain were, however, wounded in the struggle.

In consequence of some threatening movements in the British fleet, the French sent down a fire-raft on the night of the 28th. A number of small schooners, shallops, and rafts were chained together, to the breadth of 200 yards, and laden with shells, grenades, old guns, pistols, and tar barrels: this mischievous contrivance floated rapidly down with the ebb tide. The English seamen, however, were, as before, alert, and towed the fire-raft ashore, without its having caused the slightest damage. The following morning Wolfe sent a flag of truce to the garrison of Quebec, with the following message: "If the enemy presume to send down any more fire-rafts, they are to be made fast to two particular transports, in which are all the Canadian and other prisoners, in order that they may perish by their own base inventions." The French constructed no more fire-rafts.

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