Canadian Notabilities by John Charles Dent (free ebook reader for iphone TXT) 📕

and much to be left to mere chance. Whenever there seemed to be any, even the slightest, prospect of effecting an opening, that chance was greedily seized and eagerly acted upon. Contemplated in the light of the grand result, we are lost in amazement at the indomitable soul of that frail young invalid who, undismayed by repeated defeat, by conflicting counsels, and by the effect of continued exposure upon his enfeebled frame, steadfastly persevered in his course until the goal was won. For British dominion in Canada was established, not by bravery alone. Montcalm's veteran troops were as brave as those to which they were opposed. Quebec was won by patience, by unceasing vigilance, by military skill, and by an inward conviction in the breast of the English commander that "All things are possible to him who will but do his duty, and who knoweth not when he is beaten." The time was one which called for action and no time was lost in useless deliberation. Wolfe's plan of attack was soon formed, and he at once proceeded to carry it out. The soldiers were directed to hold themselves in readiness either to march or fight at the shortest notice. A little before midnight on the 28th--about thirty hours after the forces had been landed--the sentinel on the western point of the island perceived certain black objects in the river which were slowly moving towards the land where he stood. He had no sooner aroused his companions than a tremendous discharge of artillery took place. The force immediately turned out and prepared for battle, but no enemy being, visible, it was necessary to wait for daylight. It then appeared that the French commander had despatched eight fire-ships and rafts, freighted with explosives, towards the British fleet in the river. These explosives had been launched from the shore in the darkness, but had been lighted prematurely, and failed to accomplish anything beyond a grand display of fireworks. Wolfe proceeded with his plans, and on the 30th he issued a proclamation to the inhabitants, calling upon them to transfer their allegiance, and enjoining upon them that they should at least preserve a strict neutrality. Monckton, one of Wolfe's Brigadier-Generals, then crossed over the arm of the river with a strong detachment, took possession of Peint Levi, threw up entrenchments, and planted batteries along the southern shore. In effecting this manoeuvre a body of 1,200 Canadians were dislodged and repulsed, and the British gained an advantageous position for attacking the citadel. Monckton held the position in spite of all Montcalm's efforts to dislodge him, and on the 13th of July the batteries opened fire from here upon the citadel. The fleet in the river also opened fire upon the French lines on the northern shore between Quebec and the Falls of Montmorenci, and under cover of the fire Wolfe landed on the eastern bank of the Montmorenci River, and intrenched his position there. The shells from the batteries at Point Levi set fire to the Upper Town of Quebec, whereby the great Cathedral and many other buildings were destroyed. Hostilities were renewed day by day, and there was great destruction both of property and of human life; but after weeks of toilsome operation the capture of Quebec seemed as far off as when the British fleet first arrived in the St. Lawrence. On the night of the 28th of July, the French made a second attempt to destroy the English fleet with fire-rafts, but the sailors grappled the rafts before they could reach the fleet and quietly towed them ashore.
Meantime, Wolfe's efforts to decoy Montcalm to emerge from his fastnesses and to enter into a general engagement were unceasing; but the French General was not to be tempted. Several British men-of-war sailed up the St. Lawrence, past the city, and got into the upper river. Wolfe was thus enabled to reconnoitre the country above, the bombardment of the citadel being kept up almost without intermission. On the 31st, Wolfe, from his camp near the month of the Montmorenci, made a formidable attack upon the French on the other side of the (Montmorenci) River, near Beauport. The attack was unsuccessful, and the British were compelled to retire with considerable loss. Attempts to dislodge the French were made at all points along the river; but owing to their advantageous position, all such attempts were fruitless, and as the weeks passed by without securing any decisive advantage to his arms, Wolfe's anxiety became so great as to bring on a slow fever, which for some days confined him to his bed. As soon as he was able to drag himself thence he called his chief officers together and submitted to them several new methods of attack. Most of the officers were of opinion that the attack should be made above the city, rather than below. Wolfe coincided in this view, and on the 3rd of September transferred his own camp to Point Levi. Soon afterwards a narrow path, scarcely wide enough for two men to march abreast, was discovered on the north bank of the St. Lawrence, leading up the cliffs, about two miles above the city. The spot was known as _L'Anse du Foulon_, but has since been known as Wolfe's Cove. Wolfe determined to land his forces here, and under cover of night, to ascend to the heights above. The heights once reached, it was probable that Montcalm might hazard a battle. Should he decline to do so, the British troops would at any rate have gained an advantageous point for a fresh attack upon the citadel.
Having determined upon this line of proceeding, preparations were at once set on foot for carrying it out. An important point was to keep the French in ignorance of the design, and if possible to mislead them as to the spot where it was proposed to make the attack. With this view, soundings were made in the river opposite Beauport, between the mouth of the St. Charles and the Falls of Montmorenci, as though with the intention of effecting a landing there. The ruse was successful, and Montcalm's attention was directed to this spot as the probable point which he would soon have to defend. He hurried down to the entrenchments at Beauport, and made preparations to oppose the British in their anticipated attempt to land.
On the evening of the 12th of September, several of the heaviest vessels of the British fleet anchored near Beauport. Boats were lowered, and were soon filled with men, as though it were intended to effect a landing forthwith. Montcalm's attention having been thus concentrated upon this point, the smaller vessels sailed up the river past Cape Diamond, and joined the squadron under Admiral Holmes, which lay near Cape Rouge. The forces on the south bank of the St. Lawrence simultaneously advanced up the shore from Point Levi, and having arrived opposite the squadron, were quietly taken on board, where they awaited further orders. Wolfe, with the germs of a hectic fever still rankling in his blood, was nevertheless actively engaged in reconnoitring the position both on the river and on land. And now we again meet for a few moments with our old friend, Mr. John Jervis. Eighteen years have passed over his head since we last met him in the playground at Greenwich. He is now commander of the _Porcupine_, one of the sloops of war in the St. Lawrence. A few weeks before this time he had rendered an essential service to his old school-fellow, James Wolfe. One of the General's passages up the river had been made in the _Porcupine_, and in passing the batteries of the Lower Town of Quebec, the wind had died away, and the vessel had been driven by the current towards the northern shore. A cannonade was at once opened upon the vessel from the French batteries, and Wolfe would soon have been in the hands of the enemy. Jervis proved equal to the occasion. His word of command rang out to lower the ship's boats. The command was at once obeyed, and the crew soon towed the _Porcupine_ out of danger. The memory of this event may perhaps have had something to do with Wolfe's conduct towards his old friend on the evening of this 12th of September. The General sent for young Jervis, and had a conversation with him upon various private matters. He expressed his conviction that he would not survive the impending battle, and taking Miss Lowther's picture from his bosom, he delivered it to Jervis. "If I fall," he said, "let it be given to her with my best love." Jervis, of course, promised compliance, and the somewhile pupils of, Mr. Swindon bade each other a last farewell.
The hours intervening between this conference and midnight were chiefly spent by the General in adding a codicil to his will, and in making a final inspection of arrangements for the proposed landing at _L'Anse du Foulon_. The night was calm and beautiful, and as he passed from ship to ship he commented to the officers on the contrast between the quietness which reigned supreme, and the resonant roar of battle which would almost certainly be heard there on the morrow. As he quietly moved about he was heard repeating in a low tone several stanzas of Gray's "Elegy." One of these stanzas he repeated several times:
"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, and all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour;
The paths of glory lead but to the grave."
The occasion was a solemn one, and he doubtless felt that, for him, the last line had a special significance at that time. Who shall say what other thoughts filled his breast on that last evening of his life? Perchance he thought of his mother, of his dead father and brother, and of her who was pledged to share his name and fame. Let us hope that, in that solemn hour, with the forebodings of his coming doom strong upon him, he was able to look back upon his life with a consciousness that he had served his God with at least some measure of the zeal which he had ever been wont to display in the service of his country. He continued to repeat the beautiful lines of the poet, down to the concluding words of the epitaph. Then after a brief pause, turning to his officers:--"Gentlemen," he said, "I would rather be the author of that piece than take Quebec to-morrow." [Footnote: There is a story to the effect that Wolfe, on this night, composed the well-known song which bears his name, commencing: "How stands the glass around?" The story is altogether without foundation, the song having been written and published long before General Wolfe was born. The poetical talent of the family seems to have been confined to the Irish branch, one of the members whereof, the Rev. Charles Wolfe, subsequently won immortality by a single short poem, "The Burial of Sir John Moore."]
But not much time could be given to sentiment. A little after midnight, Wolfe embarked a strong detachment of forces in flat-bottomed boats, and, placing himself at their head, quietly glided down the river to _L'Anse du Foulon_. The spot was soon reached, and the landing was effected in safety. The cliff here rises almost perpendicularly to a height of 350 feet, and one of the soldiers was heard to remark that going up there would be like going up the side of a house. No time was lost, and the ascent of the ravine was at once begun. The enemy had a line of sentinels all along the top of the cliff, and one of the sentries was stationed at the precise spot where the British would emerge on the summit. When those