A Historical Geography of the British Colonies Part 33

On September 10, looking through his telescope from the southern sh.o.r.e across the river, Wolfe had noted a path running up the opposite bank from a little cove rather more {306} than a mile and a half higher up the river than the citadel of Quebec. The place was known as the Anse au Foulon, and now bears the name of Wolfe's Cove.

The bank is between 200 and 300 feet high, and at the top were to be seen the tents of a French outpost. Here he determined to attempt a landing. On the night of the twelfth the troops, whom he had on board, were to drop down the river with the ebbing tide, half going on in boats, the rest following in the transports, while another smaller force, left under Colonel Burton at Point Levis, was to move up the southern sh.o.r.e, to be ferried across in support of the attack.

Saunders, meanwhile, as night came on, was to threaten the Beauport lines.

[Sidenote: _Fortune favours Wolfe._]

Fortune had hitherto been unkind to Wolfe; now all went well. The many chances which a night attack involves, when the crisis came, all favoured the English. Their boats, as they came down stream, were taken by the sentries for French provision boats, which had been expected. Bougainville, who, before night fell and before the tide turned, had seen the ships drift up stream instead of down, was completely misled. Montcalm looked for danger from the fleet in front of him, and knew not what the tide was bringing down.

[Sidenote: _The descent of the river._]

[Sidenote: _The landing._]

[Sidenote: _French picket surprised._]

[Sidenote: _The heights gained and line of battle formed._]

It was about two o'clock in the morning of the thirteenth when the boats cast off from the ships, and took their way down stream. Howe led with twenty-four men of the light infantry, who had volunteered for the first ascent. Close behind was Wolfe himself; and it has been told in many books, how, as the stream bore him on in darkness to glory and the grave, he repeated the well-known lines of Gray's Elegy.[16] The leading boat was carried a little below the spot where the path runs down to the sh.o.r.e. About four o'clock in the morning, an hour before daybreak, the men scrambled up the side of the wooded cliff, and surprised the French picket at the top. Its commander, Vergor, who had surrendered {307} Fort Beausejour in Acadia, was wounded when trying to escape, and taken prisoner. The way being clear, the rest of the troops followed. The boats, having discharged their first cargo, brought off the remainder of the force from the transports, and carried over Burton's men from the opposite bank.

About six o'clock, the daylight of a cloudy morning showed the whole army at the top of the cliffs; and, moving forward towards Quebec, Wolfe formed his line of battle within a mile of the city, on the part of the plateau known as the Plains of Abraham.

[Footnote 16: Gray's _Elegy written in a Country Churchyard_ was first published in 1751.]

Between four and five thousand men had been landed; but some were kept in reserve, or left to guard the landing, and less than 4,000 men formed the fighting line. Monckton's brigade on the right ab.u.t.ted on the edge of the cliffs. Murray held the centre with three regiments, the 47th, the 58th, and the 78th Highlanders.[17]

Townshend was posted on the left. The left could be turned, for the force was too small to extend across the plain; and therefore, while the rest of the troops faced Quebec, Townshend's men, drawn up at right angles to their comrades, fronted the high ground known as the Cote St. Genevieve, which overlooks the river St. Charles above the city. Howe's light infantry covered the rear. One gun[18] had been dragged up the cliff; but, when the fight began, the English had no other artillery. The French in this respect were in not much better case, {308} for they hurried to the battlefield with few big guns to back them. The fight was one of infantry alone.

[Footnote 17: The 78th Highlanders, who fought with Wolfe, were not the ancestors of the present regiment of that number. The regiments of the present day who carry Quebec on their colours are the 15th (1st battalion East Yorkshire Regiment), the 28th (1st battalion Gloucestershire Regiment), the 35th (1st battalion Royal Suss.e.x), the 43rd (1st battalion Oxfordshire Light Infantry), the 47th (1st battalion Loyal North Lancashire), the 48th (1st battalion Northamptonshire Regiment), the 58th (2nd battalion Northamptonshire Regiment), and the 60th Rifles (two battalions).]

[Footnote 18: Townshend's dispatch of Sept. 20 says distinctly 'we had been able to bring up but one gun.' Knox, on the other hand, says, 'About eight o'clock we had two pieces of short bra.s.s six-pounders playing on the enemy' (Knox, vol. ii, pp. 70, 128).]

[Sidenote: _Montcalm hurries to give battle._]

Saunders' pretence at landing on the Beauport sh.o.r.e had kept Montcalm's army on the alert all the night. At six in the morning, riding towards Quebec, the French general learnt that the English had landed, and saw in the distance the enemy's lines. He brought his troops from Beauport with what speed he could; crossed the St.

Charles; pa.s.sed by or through the city; and marshalled his force beyond for instant fight. He had with him, it would seem, not more than 5,000 men. The garrison of Quebec remained within the walls, and a large proportion of the army did not leave their encampment, for the further lines by the Montmorency were some miles distant, and the sh.o.r.e had still to be protected. He might have waited to bring up more troops, and to give time to Bougainville to operate in the enemy's rear; but his communications were threatened, his supplies were short, Wolfe, if given breathing s.p.a.ce, could throw up entrenchments, and with his command of the river, make his position absolutely safe. The one hope was to hurl him back over the cliffs, while yet his foothold was insecure; and to strike before the ardour of the Canadians and Indians had time to cool.

[Sidenote: _The battle of Quebec._]

[Sidenote: _Defeat of the French._]

[Sidenote: _Death of Wolfe._]

Between nine and ten o'clock the French were in battle array, and advanced over a little ridge which lay between Wolfe's army and Quebec. Wolfe's soldiers had had two hours' rest, and steadily moved forward, reserving their fire by the General's orders. At forty yards' distance the word of command was given; and two volleys of musketry decided the battle. The fire came from the whole English line, the French fell like corn under the reaper's scythe, a charge with bayonets and claymores followed, 'the Highlanders chased them vigorously towards Charles river, and the 58th to the suburb close to John's Gate.'[19] Montcalm's army {309} became a routed rabble.

Stricken already earlier in the fight, Wolfe on the right, while preparing to lead the final charge, received his death wound. He was carried to the rear; heard, while still conscious, that the enemy were in flight; turned on his side, thanked G.o.d, and died in peace.

[Footnote 19: Knox, vol. ii, p. 71.]

[Sidenote: _Death of Montcalm._]

[Sidenote: _Monckton wounded._]

[Sidenote: _Townshend in command._]

It was all over before noon. The English casualties numbered between six and seven hundred, the French lost double that number, and they too were bereft of their leader. As Montcalm retreated towards Quebec with his flying troops, he was shot through the body. He reached a house in the city, lingered for some hours, and, before the following day broke, like Wolfe he had gone to his rest. 'It was a very singular affair,' was Horace Walpole's cold-blooded comment; 'the generals on both sides slain, the second in command wounded; in short, very near what battles should be, in which only the princ.i.p.als ought to suffer.'[20] The French lost not only Montcalm, but also the officer next in rank on the field. On the English side, Monckton, who would have succeeded Wolfe, was severely wounded, though he was able, on the fifteenth, to sign a short and simple dispatch, reporting the 'very signal victory'; and the command devolved on Townshend.

Threatened by Bougainville, who came up too late from behind with 2,000 men, and retreated again, Townshend recalled his troops and entrenched them; cannon and supplies were brought up from the river, and communication with the ships was made safe.

[Footnote 20: _Letters of Horace Walpole_, vol. iii, p. 258 (Letter of Oct. 19, 1759).]

[Sidenote: _Disorderly retreat of the French._]

Behind the St. Charles the French were all in confusion. Vaudreuil called a council of war, and determined on an immediate retreat, abandoning all the lines which Montcalm had held so long and so well, and leaving the garrison of Quebec to surrender, as soon as provisions failed. The retreat began that same night with no semblance of order; and, circling inland past the English lines, the fugitives made {310} their way towards Montreal, hurrying in panic far beyond Cap Rouge, where Bougainville was still stationed, to Jacques Cartier, thirty miles distant from Quebec.

[Sidenote: _Siege of Quebec._]

[Sidenote: _Levis rallies the French too late._]

[Sidenote: _The city surrenders._]

With Wolfe and Montcalm expired the genius of either army. It was characteristic of Wolfe that, while dying, he sent an order to cut off the French retreat; but in the interval between the battle on the thirteenth and the capitulation of Quebec on the eighteenth, we do not read that any attempt was made to intercept the French, nor did Saunders land men to occupy the deserted Beauport lines. Townshend steadily made his trenches and besieged in form; while the French commandant of Quebec, Ramesay, with a weak garrison, and little or no food, was urged by his own people to capitulate. He had orders from Vaudreuil to surrender in due time, and, though counter messages came, they came too late. Too late Levis at Montreal had heard of the disaster; hurrying back, he turned the beaten troops at Jacques Cartier; he started with them on the eighteenth to save Quebec; but on that very morning Quebec was given up. The afternoon before, an a.s.sault on the town was threatened above, while a landing from the river was threatened below. Distrusting the promises of relief, Ramesay yielded to the pressure put on him by soldiers and civilians alike; at eight o'clock, on the morning of the eighteenth, the terms of surrender were signed; and that same day advanced parties of the English army held the gates of Quebec.

[Sidenote: _Murray left in charge._]

[Sidenote: _Saunders sails for home,_]

The English commanders debated whether or not they could hold the city through the coming winter, and determined at all hazards to do so. Murray was placed in command with a garrison of about 7,000 men; a month pa.s.sed in repairing the fortifications, in landing and storing supplies; and on October 18, Admiral Saunders, with the first portion of the fleet, set sail for England. As he neared home, at the entrance of the Channel, he learnt that Hawke was about to engage a French fleet from Brest. He sailed {311} off to join him 'without landing his glory,'[21] but came too late, for Hawke had already fought his fight and won his victory in Quiberon Bay. Saunders had deserved well of his country, for without his active, untiring support the land forces would never have taken Quebec. He outlived Wolfe for sixteen years, and was privately buried in Westminster Abbey in December, 1775.

[Footnote 21: Letter from Horace Walpole dated 'November 30th, of the great year' (1759), vol. iii, p. 268.]

[Sidenote: _and Townshend._]

Townshend, too, went home, his enemies said, to exaggerate his own merits and belittle Wolfe's memory. An anonymous letter to 'an honourable brigadier-general,' attributed to Junius among others,[22]

appeared in the following year, and attacked him with bitterness, some of which he probably deserved. He pa.s.sed into political life, and as Viceroy of Ireland achieved a doubtful repute.

[Footnote 22: See the _Grenville Papers_, 1852, 3rd ed. Introductory notes relating to Lord Temple and the authorship of Junius at the beginning of vol. iii, pp. lx.x.xviii-xc.]

[Sidenote: _Wolfe's body brought to England._]

Wolfe's body was brought to England, and buried where his father had been laid earlier in the year, in the vaults of Greenwich parish church. A monument to him, voted by Parliament, stands in Westminster Abbey, and his name lives, and will for ever live, in the hearts of men.

[Sidenote: _Cotton's letters to Grenville._]

The news of his victory and death, and of the fall of Quebec, reached England on October 17. It came but two or three days after his latest dispatches, which gave little hope of success. There are two interesting letters among the _Grenville Papers_, written to Grenville by the Rev. Nathaniel Cotton, from on board the _Princess Amelia_ at ile Madame in the St. Lawrence. The first is dated August 27 to September 6; the second bears the date of September 20. The first, repeating former letters, is not hopeful. It points out the insufficiency of Wolfe's force, the necessity of co-operation on the part of Amherst; and it refers to 'unrevealed causes' militating against the enterprise, {312} which may be taken to mean want of harmony between Wolfe and Townshend. The later letter begins with the following words: 'I have the satisfaction to acquaint you that through the smiles of Providence we are in safe and quiet possession of Quebec.'[23]

[Footnote 23: _Grenville Papers_, vol. i, pp. 318-26.]

[Sidenote: _Reception of the news in England._]

Very dramatic was the revulsion of feeling in England, when all was known. No submarine cables then told the story of the war from day to day. Only a few dispatches and letters at long intervals were brought over the Atlantic, recording at first slow progress, then reverse, disappointment, and the General's sickness and despondency. The rock of Quebec seemed still impregnable; and, as the bright summer waned into autumn, public confidence gave place to gloom. Then in mid-October, when to North American lands the Indian summer gives a second brightness, tidings came from over the sea that the victory was won, and that the price paid for it was the life of Wolfe. There followed, as Burke well said, a 'mourning triumph.'[24] Joy was sobered by the sense of loss, and the picture of a desolate home appealed, as it always appeals, to Englishmen's minds. They thought of the mother, lately widowed, now childless, whose sickly son had been her joy and pride; and many, we may not doubt, thought also of the French home, whose master had gone out and came not again.

[Footnote 24: _Annual Register_ for 1759, p. 43.]

[Sidenote: _Was Wolfe's attack a great military feat?_]