by Oliver North
First, Colonel Arnold, Natanis, and his brother Sabatis have all been to Quebec City and Pointe Lévis numerous times—Arnold as a merchant, and the Indians as hunters, trappers, traders and warriors. They all know the British are unlikely to shell the Pointe Lévis ferry landing, gristmill, and trading post from the citadel because it would infuriate the wealthy French and British owners. And the casualties among the civilian and Indian families caused by such a cannonade would make General Guy Carleton, the British Governor, the most hated man in Canada.
Second, the French-speaking inhabitants and nearby Indians at Pointe Lévis are friendly and actively helping us acquire—in exchange for hard cash—essential equipment: birch-bark and dugout canoes, paddles, pikes, cooking pots, utensils, and provisions we will need to attack the fortress across the river. Natanis sent seventeen young Abenaki braves up the Chaudière River and brought down to us tentage and personal equipment recovered from our many wrecked batteaux. Our only regret: The locals have few shoes, boots, or warm clothing to share or sell.
Third, ready access to decent food here in Pointe Lévis has been a lifesaver for many—a fact confirmed by Dr. Senter, our expedition’s physician. The importance of good food was enhanced when a gentleman named John Halsted, a New Jersey-born, pro-Patriot merchant, was expelled from Quebec.
Three days ago, in broad daylight, Mr. Halsted rowed across the river and volunteered to aid our cause. He immediately proved his worth by repairing and putting into operation the local gristmill. It is now running around the clock to convert a large store of good, recently harvested wheat into flour so our troops can have, for the first time in months, fresh bread!
For those who have never nearly starved to death, that passage in the Lord’s Prayer, “Give us this day our daily bread . . .” is unlikely to have as much meaning as it does for those of us who have gone for weeks with nothing to eat but broth of boiled shoe leather.
Fourth, Pointe Lévis offers the narrowest cross-water transit to our objective—about a mile—directly across the Saint Lawrence River from our encampment. This is why, in the summer of 1759, British General James Wolfe launched his victorious siege against the French-held fortress of Quebec from Pointe Lévis.
But most importantly, all of us are acutely aware the enlistments of most of our troops expire at midnight on the last day of 1775. Any delay in bringing about the surrender of the British garrison guarding Quebec City increases the possibility we will not succeed before the expedition simply evaporates as troops go home. After the grueling travail we suffered to get this close, the thought of failure is unconscionable.
Colonel Arnold selected for his headquarters at Pointe Lévis, the snug, two-story cottage, part of the gristmill property, belonging to British Major Henry Caldwell—commander of the British Militia inside Quebec City.
After one of my many walks through the snow to help Major Febiger create a roster of those fit enough to fight when we cross the St. Lawrence, Colonel Arnold said as I entered headquarters, “Ensign Newman, if you must bring with you a blast of icy air each time you enter this place, please be kind enough to carry in a wet log for each of the four fireplaces. I want Major Caldwell, the Redcoat who owns this place, now peering at us through the frosted lens of his spyglass atop Cape Diamond, to see the steam from our chimneys—while he’s freezing his ‘arse’ off.”
At 8:00 a.m., in the midst of heavy snow blown horizontal by a bitter north wind off the river, Major Febiger sent messengers to our battalion and company commanders, summoning them for a 9:00 a.m. Council of War at Expedition Headquarters.
For those of us living and sleeping beneath tents in sub-freezing weather, orders to report for a meeting with our Commanding Officer is deemed to be an invitation to warmth. As usual, Captain Morgan, 1st Lt. Humphrey, and I were the first to arrive. Dr. Senter and Chaplain Spring were but a few minutes behind.
Instead of Major Febiger, the expedition’s Adjutant, it was Eleazer Oswald, Colonel Arnold’s unpaid “aide,” now serving as his “military secretary” who called the roll: “Lieutenant Colonel Greene, Major Meigs (now commanding our 2nd Battalion), Major Bigelow, Captain Ward, Captain Thayer, Captain Morgan, Captain Smith, Captain Hendricks, Captain Dearborn, Captain Topham, Captain Goodrich, Captain Hanchett, Captain Hubbard . . .”
As each field commander’s name was called, “Aye” came the reply until it got to Captain Morgan. He responded, “Liberty or Death!” as did everyone after him.
Colonel Arnold then asked Chaplain Spring to open with a prayer and he did so by reading the 23rd Psalm.2 He did not elaborate, nor did he need to. The psalm was a most appropriate prayer for the occasion.
As we have come to expect, Colonel Arnold got right to the point. “Two days ago I received by courier, a message from Brigadier General Montgomery, written on Sunday, October 29th from the British-held Fort St. John’s. In General Montgomery’s letter, he describes how he is now using heavy artillery delivered from Fort Ticonderoga on September 21st and October 5th to bombard Fort St. Johns—his last obstacle before Montreal.
“General Montgomery has pledged to join us at the gates of Quebec as soon as he subdues Montreal. He will be bringing heavy artillery from Ticonderoga with him. This is exactly the kind of weaponry we need to win this battle and this war—and what I recommended to General Schuyler and General Washington after I captured Ticonderoga last May.”3
When Colonel Arnold said these words, I just happened to be looking at Captain Hanchett, seated across the table from Captains Goodrich and Hubbard. All three officers glanced at one another, and Hanchett shook his head. I resolved to bring this to Captain Morgan’s attention.
Colonel Arnold continued, “. . . Given all we have endured since leaving Fort Western, I am disappointed Brigadier General Montgomery is not closer. But that, like the weather, is not something we can control.
“What we can do is get across the St. Lawrence River as soon as possible, isolate Quebec City from the rest of the countryside, and hold the place under siege until General Montgomery arrives with more troops, warm clothing, and some heavy artillery from Ticonderoga.
“To help us accomplish this mission, seated beside me is Mr. John Halsted, a merchant and a Patriot. Until he was expelled by the cowardly enemy across the river just days ago, he lived in a comfortable home in the Upper Town—not far from the Cape Diamond Bastion—the highest point you can see across the river. He tells us Carleton demanded all in the city unwilling to join the militia in its defense to leave. It is apparent the garrison is understaffed.
“Mr. Halsted has agreed to serve as our guide and pilot to get us safely across the river and identify vulnerable locations inside and outside the walls of Quebec. Since he has spent much more time in Quebec City than any of us, I have accepted his offer. Mr. Halsted, please give us your brief assessment of the enemy situation.”
Halsted rose and, using a sketch map on an easel between him and Colonel Arnold, he spoke clearly, “There are now three armed Royal Navy vessels at anchor off Cape Diamond and two large, unarmed, supply ships, the Elizabeth and Jacob.
“The twenty-eight-gun frigate Lizard is the largest; the sloop Hunter, which will arrive in the next day or so, has ten guns; the schooner Magdalen arrived late last night carrying six guns, and the sloop Charlotte has six guns. All the small, hand-rowed cutters—there appear to be about ten of them serviceable for patrolling—have at least one bow-mounted swivel gun.
“As best I can tell, nearly all the naval artillery from the ships is being moved inside Quebec City’s walls. The largest caliber pieces I have seen so far are the nine-pounders off the frigate. But there were at least five old French twelve-pounders mounted on the parapets of Diamond Bastion. I have seen them used for ceremonial salutes. I do not know if their carriages are fit for firing live rounds.
“As for getting across the river; I have made the one-mile ferry transit back and forth between he
re and Lower Town hundreds of times, but I am recommending to Colonel Arnold we make a night crossing from here to what is now called Wolfe’s Cove, south-west of the city walls, where General Wolfe landed in September 1759. It’s a little bit longer than going straight across to the Lower Town, but much safer.
“If the count I received this morning is correct, we have forty birch-bark canoes and dugouts to move about 175 men at a time from here to Wolfe’s Cove. If we start right after dusk with the wind and tides in our favor, we should be able to get about 550 men across the river before dawn.
“I have observed the enemy’s nighttime patrols in their cutters. There are rarely more than three boats in the water at once. Their schedule seems to be haphazard for those who measure time on a watch. But those of us who have spent our lives on the water also measure time by the changing of the tides.
“It appears to me the sailors rowing the patrol cutters are choosing to head upriver on a rising tide—because it’s easier to row upstream if the tide is behind you. If we want to avoid them, we need to leave here heading upriver before they head in that direction.
“We cannot take canoes and dugouts on the river in this kind of weather. They will founder. But we must move soon because the St. Lawrence will shortly be ice-choked, not frozen over, but impassable for canoes, dugouts, and even small boats like the cutters.
“I recommend as soon as the weather improves, we be ready to cross the river right after sunset on a rising tide. The moon is waning and rising later each night through the end of the month, but we dare not wait that long or we will be here until spring.”
When Mr. Halsted finished, Colonel Arnold asked, “Any questions?”
Without the courtesy of standing to address our commander, Capt. Hanchett immediately said, “I don’t have a question, but an observation. I think it’s suicide to try to get across that river in the middle of any night. Half of our men aren’t fit to fight even if we made it ashore on the other side. We have no idea how many well-armed, fully-trained Regulars and militia-men they have inside the walls . . .”
As Hanchett spoke, I watched Colonel Arnold. He didn’t move except to turn his head toward the insubordinate captain. There was no apparent rise of color in the Colonel’s cheeks. There was no change in his demeanor. But his eyes became like those of an owl watching a squirrel. He didn’t squint. He didn’t blink. He stared like a bird of prey about to swoop down to have dinner.
Hanchett wrapped up with, “I think we ought to put this idea to a vote.”
At this point Colonel Arnold rose and, without taking his gaze from the captain’s face, said very calmly, “We’re not going to vote. If, after all we have endured, you do not wish to accompany us to accomplish our mission, by all means, defect like your cowardly battalion commander.”
Then turning to the rest of us in the room, he asked, “Do any of you who are going with me to do our duty and carry out our orders, have any questions?”
There were none. After a moment of silence, Colonel Arnold concluded, “We will not be crossing the river tonight, but we will do so on the next night we have better weather. As of now we have twenty-seven serviceable bark canoes and ten rugged dugouts. We will continue to search for more of both—and more paddles.
“By this time tomorrow morning, please deliver to Major Febiger rosters of your units indicating those who are fit to fight and those who are not—and why not. Post sentries as usual tonight.
“If all goes as planned, before dark, Mr. Halsted will have baked six hundred loaves of bread. Each of your soldiers will get one loaf. If there are any loaves left, you and your officers may have one apiece. Any remaining will be delivered to Dr. Senter for the patients in his hospital.”
And, as if he had just thought of it, Colonel Arnold ended the meeting, “With thanks to Captain Morgan, tonight’s challenge is ‘Liberty or’ and the password is ‘Death.’”
Pointe Lévis, Canada
Saturday, November 11th, 1775
The bread delivered last night was well received by all our Riflemen. Captain Morgan, Lt. Humphrey, and I each saved half a loaf to enjoy this morning with some orange marmalade preserves Mr. Halsted presented to us last night.
We had just toasted slices of bread on the fire in the middle of our tent and were smearing marmalade on them with our scalping knives when Private Kilgannon arrived outside our tent and shouted above the wind, “Sirs, a British cutter from the sloop Hunter is approaching the cove where our canoes and dugouts are hidden. Corporal Sullivan wants to know if he should engage them.”
We all jumped up as Captain Morgan yelled, “Hell, yes! How many are there?”
“At least a dozen, sir. They all appear to be armed. Even the four oarsmen.”
“How many are with Sully?”
“Just the two of us with rifles and our four Indians, armed with muskets.”
“Go help Sully. Tell him help is on the way!” As he grabbed his rifle and kit, he said to me, “Come with me, Ensign Newman.”
He then turned to Lt. Humphrey and said, “William, alert Captains Hendricks and Smith. Get your ten-man quick reaction team and bring ’em up to that little knoll east of the cove, prepared to back us up.” And on his way out the tent flap into the wind and snow, Capt. Morgan carefully set his piece of marmalade-coated toast on his backpack and said to us both, “That better be here when we get back.”
The cove was about 200 yards from our perimeter and when we were about halfway there we heard a single shot. I couldn’t tell with all the wind what it was, but the captain said, “Rifle. Outgoing.”
A moment or two later there were a half dozen more shots, louder than the first. This time the captain said, “Muskets. Incoming,” and began to sprint.
When we crested the little knoll above the cove, we could see a Royal Navy cutter being furiously rowed away from our shore—and a swimmer desperately trying to catch the long boat.
As we came up behind Cpl. Sullivan, two of his Indians fired at the swimmer and Sully shouted, “No! I said shoot at the boat—like this—” And from a kneeling position he cocked his rifle took aim, pulled the trigger, and the helmsman holding the rudder at the stern of the cutter pitched forward and fell among the rowers.
There followed a brief exchange of musket fire between the sailors in the boat and our Indians which was a waste of powder and shot, given the cutter was by now more than 200 yards away. Both Private Kilgannon and I fired our rifles once at the boat but without any apparent effect other than encouraging the oarsmen to row faster toward the British sloop Hunter.
During the musket melee, Captain Morgan was keeping his eye on the swimmer who somehow made it back to our shore and crept into a thick patch of reeds on the edge of the cove.
As 1st Lt. Humphrey and his ten Riflemen arrived, Captain Morgan and two of the Indians began searching for the swimmer as they walked along the shoreline. Suddenly, one of the Indians saw movement in the underbrush, pulled out his scalping knife and charged into the water.
Realizing we were about to lose a valuable prisoner of war, Captain Morgan tossed me his rifle and kit, jumped into the ice-crusted water, caught the Indian, motioned for him to put away his knife, and immediately thereafter a thoroughly soaked and nearly frozen, uniformed British sailor stood up and raised his hands.
At this, Lt. Humphrey and four Riflemen of his quick reaction team slid down from the crest of the knoll to take control of the prisoner and march him back to our encampment. He left five members of his quick reaction team to replace Corporal Sullivan, Private Kilgannon, and their four Indians as fresh guardians over our canoes and dugouts.
Though the entire Expeditionary Force seemed to be out and about, awaiting our return, we proceeded directly to Colonel Arnold’s Headquarters with our prisoner. Major Febiger met us at the door of “the cottage” and after a mercifully brief parley, invited Captain Morgan, whose clothing was
now frozen solid, 1st Lt. Humphrey, Corporal Sullivan, the nearly frozen British sailor, and me inside to stand by a fireplace while he went upstairs.
Less than five minutes later, time enough for the rear of Captain Morgan’s hunting frock and leggin’s to thaw and begin steaming, Colonel Arnold, Majors Meigs, Febiger, Messer’s Oswald, Halsted, and Dr. Senter entered the room across the hall and sat at the table where we met yesterday.
Just before the prisoner was escorted into the room, Colonel Arnold said, “Captain Morgan, please have a seat at the table with us.”
“Sir, with your permission I will stay right here in front of this fire. I appreciate your invitation, but my backside is more grateful for the warmth it is receiving right here.”
By the end of a half-hour interrogation, we knew our captive was a Royal Navy Midshipman, the sixteen-year-old brother of Captain Thomas Mackenzie, the commanding officer of the sloop Hunter. The youngster admitted the cutter was sent to “determine if ‘the rebels’ are hiding small boats and canoes in the cove and if so, douse them with lantern oil and drop hand grenades on them to ensure destruction.” Otherwise, he refused to answer any other questions.
When it became evident more information would not be forthcoming, Col. Arnold turned to Major Febiger and said, “Take him out and have him guarded across the hall near the fireplace for a few minutes.”
After the door closed behind them, he said to Captain Morgan, “Well done, Daniel. He is potentially a very valuable acquisition.” Then turning to the rest of us he said, “We need a place to hold him where he won’t escape or freeze. When we cross the river, we need to take him with us—and he needs to be healthy. Any ideas?”
“Yes, sir,” Mr. Halsted replied. “Dr. Senter and I are billeted in the cabin next to the mill. There are two bedrooms—one larger than the other. We can both move into the small bedroom and put our prisoner and two guards in the other. There is only one fireplace. It’s on the ground floor but it heats all the cabin very nicely.”
