Chapter 2: Days Of Waiting.
"I am sorry that you should have to be disturbed, dear ladies, butit is no longer safe for you to remain where you were. My soldiersrequire the ground. But tomorrow you shall be sent in safety toQuebec, under a flag of truce. You will be safer there than atPointe-aux-Trembles, now that my ships are in the upper river."
Wolfe spoke thus at the conclusion of a supper party, which he hadhastily got up for the benefit of the prisoners brought to PointLevi by his fleet of boats. The soldiers had landed along the upperriver, and in spite of a faint resistance from Indians andCanadians, had effected a landing. Though they had not found muchin the way of stores or cattle, they had taken what they could, andhad brought a number of prisoners to Wolfe's camp. These weremostly French--a great number being women and children and old menwho had left Quebec during the bombardment, and sought refuge inthe outlying village.
The idea of being sent back to town was not exactly palatable, butit was plain that there was now no safety along the upper river;the English troops seemed to be everywhere at once.
"You are such dreadful people, you English!" sighed one lady,looking, not without admiration, towards the youthful General, whowas entertaining them at his own table, and who had given thestrictest orders that the humbler of the prisoners should beequally well treated elsewhere: "you seem to fly from point topoint, to divide your army as you will, and conquer wherever youappear. It is wonderful, but it is terrible, too! And yet with allthis, how are you to get into Quebec? For it seems to me you are nonearer that than you were a month ago."
Wolfe smiled his slight, peculiar smile.
"Madame," he answered, "we have a proverb in En gland which saysthat 'where there's a will there's a way.' I have been sent out bythe government of my country to take Quebec, and here I stay till Ihave carried out that order. How and when it will be accomplished Ido not yet know; what I say is that I am here to do it, and that Imean to do it. When you return to the city, present my respects tothe Marquis of Montcalm, and tell him what I say."
The ladies looked at one another, and lifted eyes and hands. In theaspect of the young General, despite his physical feebleness, therewas an air of such calm, confident power that they were deeplyimpressed; and one of them, looking earnestly at him, cried:
"You make us admire you as much as we fear you, Monsieur Wolfe. Butif you are to have Quebec, pray take it quickly; for this long,cruel war wears us out."
"Madame," he answered, "I would that I could; but Monsieur deMontcalm gives me no chance of fighting. If he were not socautious, I should greatly rejoice. I give him all sorts of chancesto attack me, but he will not avail himself of them. If cautioncould save Quebec, assuredly it would never fall!"
"If he take not care, his caution will be his undoing," said aCanadian dame of sprightly turn. "As for us of the country, we areweary to death of uncertainty. They tell me that the Canadianmilitia will not long remain loyal if kept in such inactivity. WeCanadians do not understand this sort of warfare. Quick raids,sharp fighting, quick return home is what our men are used to. Theycan be brave enough in their native forests; but this sitting downin camps for weeks and months together, whilst their harvests arelying uncut in the fields, or left a prey to Indian marauders--no,that they do not understand or appreciate. They are almost ready towelcome English rule sooner than go on like this. I doubt not youhave heard as much from your prisoners before."
"Something like it," answered Wolfe, with a slight curl of the lip."I confess I have no great opinion of the militia of Monsieur deMontcalm. His regular troops are fine soldiers; but for the rest,they would give us little trouble, I take it. Perhaps the Marquisknows that, and therefore will not fight."
"In the woods one Canadian soldier is worth three regulars,"remarked the lady, with a shrewd glance at Wolfe, and a smile uponher face; "but in the open one regular is worth half a dozenCanadians. We do not understand standing firm under fire. Give us atree to run behind, and we will be as valiant as you wish, andshoot down our foes with unerring aim; but we must have cover. Wehave been used to it, and we do not understand being without it. Iam sure I well understand the feeling. I should make a good enoughCanadian militiaman, but I should never have the nerve to be aregular soldier."
Wolfe smiled and made a little bow to his guests.
"I believe, Mesdames, that ladies have a higher courage than menwhen the hour of peril really comes. I had the honour to becomeacquainted with Madame Drucour at the siege of Louisbourg. I wastold, and can well believe, that it was in great part her heroicexample which inspired the men there to that courage which theyshowed, and which gave us such hard work. Courage is by no meansthe prerogative of the soldier or of man. The women of the worldhave again and again set the loftiest examples of it to those whocome after."
The ladies returned his bow, and drank to his health before theyretired to their tents for the night.
"If we see you within Quebec, Monsieur Wolfe, we shall know howgenerous a victor we have to deal with. Madame Drucour has told usthe same; but now we have seen it with our own eyes."
"Pray give my best compliments to Madame Drucour," said Wolfeearnestly, "and tell her that not the least pleasant element in theanticipation of getting into Quebec is the thought that in so doingI shall have the honour and pleasure of renewing acquaintance withher."
Wolfe was on the strand upon the following morning to see hiscaptives safely off to Quebec, whilst a flag of truce was hoisted,and the batteries ceased to fire.
"Farewell, my dear ladies; I hope soon to meet you all again," saidthe young General, with playful geniality, as he handed them totheir seats. "If Monsieur de Montcalm will but give me the chanceof coming to conclusions with him, I will do my utmost to bringthis uncomfortable state of affairs to a close."
"Ah, Monsieur, you are very complaisant! but the only way that youwant to take is the capture of our poor city."
"Very true, dear ladies; that is the only end I am willing tocontemplate. And yet, believe me, in desiring this I desire nothingthat shall be for your final discomfiture. I know what the rule ofFrance is in these parts, and what that of England is also. Believeme that beneath English government peace and prosperity such as shehas never known before will come to Canada. I believe that the daywill speedily come when you will see this for yourselves."
"I should not wonder," answered the Canadian dame, with a lightlaugh; "I am half disposed to think the same myself. His Majesty ofFrance has not endeared himself to us these many years past. Ishould not be broken hearted to see a change of monarch."
The boats pushed off, and Wolfe stood watching them on their wayacross the river. His face was grave and thoughtful, and he turnedpresently to Fritz with a sigh.
"Poor ladies! I am sorry to send them back to the horrors of thesiege; but it is the only safe place for them.
"And now we must think seriously of our next step. The time isflying, and we must not let the grass grow under our feet. It istrue what they said last night: we are no nearer taking Quebec thanwhen we sailed from England months ago. We have frightened andharassed the foe, but we are not one step nearer the goal."
"And yet we have one ship and several smaller vessels in the upperriver," said Julian; "and where one ship has passed others may doso."
"Yes; I shall try to bring up other vessels. One never knows whatthe chances of war will be. It is well to have the command of theriver both above and below; and if Amherst should form a junctionwith us, we may find the fleet above the town of great use. But weare now at the end of July, and Ticonderoga, though threatened, hasnot yet fallen, so far as we know; and even were it to do soquickly, there will be much for Amherst to do there and at CrownPoint, and a long, long march before he could reach us. We mustface the possibility of having to accomplish this matter with theforces now at command; and we are in the position now that our campis split up into four, and we have no great muster of troops at anyone point. If Montcalm were to make a determined dash at any one ofour camps, he coul
d destroy it before the rest of the army could bemustered for its defence. Why he does not avail himself of thechances given him I do not know. But his policy of inaction has itsdrawbacks too for us, since I would sooner face him in a pitchedbattle than be kept here inactive, waiting upon chances that neveroffer."
The army was certainly getting rather weary of this inaction. Itwas not idle, for Wolfe's manifesto to the Canadians was now beingenforced. Supplies were wanted for the troops, and the inimicalCanadians were forced to supply them. Indeed, great numbers ofthese harassed and undecided inhabitants of the disputed territorywere glad enough to be made prisoners by the English and sent onboard their transports for safety. Their cattle, of course, fell aprey to the invaders; but they were in so much peril of robberyfrom the Indians that this was a small matter. When once withinWolfe's camp their lives were safe, and no ill treatment waspermitted; and to some of the wretched Canadians this had become aboon. It was small wonder they were growing sick and weary of thewar, and would have welcomed either nation as conqueror, so thatthey could only know again the blessings of peace and safety.
Yet something more definite must be attempted; Wolfe was more andmore determined upon that. It was difficult to know how best toattack an enemy so strongly intrenched and so well able to repulseattack; yet his men were burning with ardour, and his own spiritwas hot within him. He sometimes felt as though his feeble bodywould not much longer be able to endure the strain put upon it. Thecracked pitcher may go once too often to the well. To die in theservice of his country was what Wolfe desired and expected forhimself; but he wished that death might come to him in the din andexcitement of the battle, and in the hour of victory; not by thehand of disease, whilst his aim and object was yet unaccomplished.
"We must fight!" he said to Julian, as he took his way back to hiscamp at the Montmorency; "we must seek to bring the enemy to closequarters. We shall fight at terrible disadvantage, I well know; weshall suffer heavy loss. But I would back a hundred of our bravefellows against a battalion of Canadian militia. We must tryconclusions with them somehow, and by a concerted attack, both fromMontmorency and from the strand, seek to effect something, even ifit be only to affright and dishearten them."
The soldiers were ready and eager to be allowed a fling at the foe.They were full of ardour and enthusiasm, for so far every attemptmade had been vigorously and successfully carried out, and theybegan to have an idea that Wolfe could not be frustrated in anyscheme of his.
To attack the city itself was obviously impossible under presentconditions, They could never get a footing near those solid wallsand ramparts. But the camp along the Beauport shore was morevulnerable. If they could effect a landing there, they might rushone or more of the batteries, and bring about a general engagement.It was impossible, as it happened, for Wolfe to estimate the fullstrength of the French position; but he knew that the task would beno light one, even though he could not see that there werebatteries upon the heights above.
It was near to the Montmorency that he designed to make the attack.The shores of the river were, for the most part, very steep here;but at one place there was at low water a strand of muddy groundabout half a mile wide, protected at the edge by a French redoubt.From there the ground rose steep and slippery to the higher landabove. If the men could land and take the redoubt, Wolfe had hopesof bringing men over by the Montmorency ford--the one above thecataract--and effecting a junction there, and by combining theactions of these two detachments, succeed in dislodging a portionof the French army, and effecting a firm foothold upon the northbank of the St. Lawrence.
It was a rather desperate scheme; but it was received withenthusiasm by the soldiers and sailors, both of whom would beneeded for the attempt. The vessels and boats for the transport ofthe men were quickly made ready, whilst others were told off tohover about the basin in order to perplex the French, and keep themignorant of the real point of attack.
Wolfe himself took up his position in the battleship Centurion,which anchored near to the Montmorency, and opened fire upon theredoubts just beyond the strand. Julian was with him, watchingintently, and noting every movement made by enemy or friend. ButFritz and< Humphrey could not be denied their share in the fight.They were upon an armed transport that was standing in shore tofurther harass and batter the redoubt, and to be left stranded bythe ebb tide, as near to her as might be.
It was at low water that the attack must be made. Boats from PointLevi were hovering around the strand all the afternoon, sometimesmaking for one point, sometimes for another, keeping the Frenchalways on the alert, uncertain and wondering. But Montcalm was tooacute a general to be long deceived. He saw where the real attackmust be made, and there he concentrated his chief force. Had Wolfebeen able to see how his batteries could sweep with a crossfire thewhole of the steep ascent from the redoubt to the heights above,where the men from the Montmorency camp might be able to join withthem, he might have withheld his men from the bold attack. And yetEnglish soldiers have won the victory even against such odds asthese!
He stood in a commanding place upon the ship, and his eyesanxiously scanned the scene. The hot sun had gone in now beneathbanks of heavy cloud. A few splashes of rain seemed to herald anapproaching storm; there was a rumble as of thunder away to theright.
The tide was out; the bank of mud lay bare. Wolfe gave a long lookround him and waved his hand.
It was the signal waited for. The moment after, the Centurion'sguns opened their iron mouths, and a storm of shot rattled aroundthe redoubt. The batteries from the Montmorency blazed forth, andso did the more distant ones from Point Levi. The fire of all threewas concentrated upon the redoubts and batteries and forces at thisportion of the Beauport camp; and the French gave answer back fromtheir well-placed batteries.
Under cover of this heavy fire the boats rowed to shore, and themen in waiting upon the stranded transports leaped out and joinedtheir comrades. The grenadiers were the first to land; and thoughMoncton's brigade and Fraser's Highlanders were close behind, theeagerness of the men could not be restrained. They did not wait fortheir companions; they did not even wait to form up in very orderlyfashion themselves. They made a gallant dash upon the redoubt, andso strong was the onrush that the French, after a very briefresistance, fled; and with a shout and cheer of triumph the Englishgained their prize.
Julian, standing beside Wolfe on the vessel, could not refrain froma shout of triumph; but the face of the General was grave andstern.
"They are wrong--they are wrong!" he said; "they are too impetuous.Their rash gallantry will cost them dear. See, they are not evenwaiting now for their companions to join them; they are trying torush the heights alone! Folly--madness! They will lose everythingby such rashness! There! did I not say so?"
At that moment the batteries on the brink of the height openedtheir murderous crossfire. The men were mown down like grass beforethe scythe; but so full were they of fury and desire of victorythat they heeded nothing, and pressed onward and upward, as thoughresolved to carry everything before them.
Had they been able to see the heights above, they would have notedthat across the ford above the Montmorency a compact body of menwas passing in perfect order, to fall upon the French from behind,and effect a junction with them. But at that moment, whilst thefortunes of the day seemed hanging in the balance, the veryfloodgates of heaven seemed to open, and a deluge of raindescended, whilst the blackness of a terrific thunderstorm fellupon the combatants.
The slippery grass no longer gave foothold, and the men rolled downthe steep heights--dead, wounded, and unhurt in one medley. Theammunition grew soaked, and the guns refused their task. The glareof the lightning lit up a scene of utter confusion.
Wolfe saw all, standing with grave face and stern, watchful eyes.At last he spoke.
"Sound the retreat," he said, and then bit his lip; and Julian, bya glance into his face, knew what it had cost him to speak thosewords.
The retreat was made in good order, and was distinguished by a fewacts of pers
onal gallantry; for the Indians swooped down, as theyalways did when they saw their chance, to scalp the wounded and thedead. Soldiers risked their lives to save their fallen comradesfrom this fate, dragging the wounded with them, at risk of theirown lives. The guns of the captured redoubt did some service inbeating off the savages; and the boats were launched once more,though their load was a far lighter one than when they had broughtup their eager crews an hour before. The strand and the heightabove were covered with the dead who had paid for their rashgallantry with their lives. It was a scene upon which Wolfe's eyesdwelt with sadness and pain, as he ordered a boat to be got readyfor him, that he might address the men on their return to quarters.
It was with stern words that Wolfe met his soldiers. He was not aman to condone a lack of discipline because it had been coupledwith personal bravery.
"Do you grenadiers suppose that you can beat the Frenchsingle-handed?" he asked, eying the thinned ranks with sterndispleasure in his eyes. "Such impetuous, irregular, andunsoldierlike proceedings as those witnessed today destroy allorder, and make it impossible for a commander to form anydisposition for an attack, and put it out of the General's power toexecute his plans. The death of those five hundred brave men wholie on the strand yonder is due, in the main, to your rashness andinsubordination."
The men were shamefaced and contrite. They recognized their error,and were the more grieved inasmuch as they saw how the check hadaffected their brave young General. They heard, too, that theFrench were full of triumphant rejoicings; that they declared thisrepulse to be the end of the English attempt upon Quebec. Theylooked upon the game as already in their hands; and although theEnglish were fond of declaring that but for the storm they wouldyet have won the heights, and with the aid of their othercontingent have routed the French gunners and got a footing there,they knew that, as facts were now, they had rather suffered thanbenefited by the action, for it had put fresh hope into the heartsof their foes; and it was possible that the disappointment hadsomething to do with the access of violent illness and sufferingwhich at this juncture prostrated their General.
Wolfe was indeed dangerously ill. He had long been putting thestrongest pressure upon himself, and Julian had been struck uponthe day of the assault with the look of suffering upon his wornface. He kept up during the next few days, but looked so ghastlythat his friends were deeply concerned; and Julian, together withFritz and Humphrey, scoured the neighbourhood in order to find aplace of greater comfort where their commander could lie. Presentlythey came upon a little farmhouse near to the camp at Montmorency,sheltered from the wind, and pleasantly situated. It had beendeserted by its occupants, who had, however, left behind furnitureenough to enable them to get one room at least fit for thehabitation of the sufferer. And none too soon.
That very day Wolfe, after trying to make a survey of the lines,was found in his tent half fainting with pain. He looked up atJulian with heavy eyes, and stretching out his hand to him, hesaid:
"I fear me I shall never live to enter Quebec. I have fought till Ican fight no more. Take me somewhere that I can rest. I can do nomore--yet."
They took him to the little farmhouse, and laid him upon the bedthey had prepared. The doctors came, and looked grave; for thefever was high, the suffering keen, and the wasted frame seemedlittle able to withstand the ravages of disease. Yet never a murmurpassed his lips; and when there came intervals of comparative ease,he would ask of those about him how affairs without wereproceeding, giving orders from time to time with all his old acumenand force, and never forgetting to inquire for the wounded who hadbeen brought off from the ill-starred assault, and had been giventhe best quarters which the camp afforded. He had never any pityfor himself, but always plenty to spare for others.
Great gloom hung over the camp. Not only were the soldiersdepressed by their repulse, and by the apparent impossibility ofgetting into the city, but they were in fear and trembling lestthey should also lose their brave General.
"If Wolfe goes, hope goes," was a common saying in the camp. Theyseemed to know by intuition that with him would expire all hope ofachieving an almost impossible victory.
Fritz and Julian nursed the sick man; and never were nurses moreskilful and tender. Humphrey constituted himself messenger andforager, bringing everything he could get that the invalid waslikely to need, and keeping them informed of everything that wenton at the different camps.
Other vessels had passed the guns of Quebec. Scouts from theinterior reported disaffection toward the French cause all throughCanada. English soldiers were carrying the terror of the Britisharms through large tracts of country. The French were becominganxious and dispirited.
So much they learned during those days of waiting; but they couldrejoice but little whilst Wolfe lay low, racked with pain which nomedicine could alleviate, and in danger of sinking through thewearing exhaustion which followed.
"How will it end? how will it end?" spoke Fritz to himself one daylate in August, as he stepped outside the house to obtain a breathof air. The next moment he gave a great start, and held out hishands in a gesture of amazement,
"What--who--how--is it a ghost I see?"
A hearty laugh was the answer, and his hands were gripped in aclasp that was very certainly one of flesh and blood, to saynothing of bone and muscle.
"Ghost indeed! Nay, Fritz, you know better than that! It is JohnStark himself, come to fulfil his promise, and to bring to GeneralWolfe the news that Ticonderoga has fallen!"
French and English: A Story of the Struggle in America Page 22
