Edward obeyed the directions. He reached Cape Diamond without meeting his friends, and he was biting his lips with vexation, that he should have come to this celebrated fortification alone, without any one to explain it to him, and must leave it as ignorant as he had entered; when he was accosted by a good natured looking soldier, who, doffing his military cap and making a slight bow, said, “This is a pleasant place, young gentleman, of a sunny summer's day.”
Edward turned his bright glance on the man, delighted to have found any one who could answer the questions that were rushing to his lips. “Is not that,” he said, pointing to the island opposite, “the island of Orleans?”
“The very same, sir: and the point there, is point Levi, which Wolfe fortified, and destroyed from it all the lower town of Quebec: but brave as he was, I think he never would have come within the rampart, if Montcalme had not been the fool to go out and meet him on the Plains of Abraham—once there, you know, we beat of course; for, other things being equal, one Englishman is as good as two Frenchmen any day—and that's what every English soldier knows.”
“But,” replied Edward, with a smile, “what every French soldier does not admit I suspect.”
“No—no—not exactly—for you know they are a bragging nation.”
“Well,” said Edward, “they seem to have something to brag of about you here in these beautiful villages:” and he pointed towards Beauport and Charlebourg, whose white houses, green fields, and churches, seem to promise every thing that poets have dreamed of village simplicity, peace, and contentment.
“Yes, sir,” said the soldier, “those have a decent genteel appearance from here, but if you were once to go to them, and see the houses like painted pigeon-holes—white without, but within full of all manner of uncleanliness; the bits of gardens with little but onions in them; whole fields overrun with Canada thistles; and then the little bits of dowdy images that they worship; and slivers of wood set in frames, that they call pieces of the true cross, and there are enough of them, as I have heard said, to build a seventy-four. If you were to see all this, my young master, you would agree with me, they were but a set of poor ignorant superstitious deluded creatures, far enough behind us English, or even the Americans.” The soldier then proceeded to point out and name the most attractive objects from this commanding point of view. The deep black ravine, through which the Montmorenci, after taking its graceful and wondrous leap, passes into the St. Lawrence; and the indentation of the shore beyond the Plains of Abraham, called Wolfe's Cove, where he landed his forces on the morning of his victory and death. Edward found it very difficult to tear himself from a spot which has so much natural beauty, and historic interest, but anxious to follow his friends, he offered the soldier a few pieces of change, and asked him if he was willing to show him the fortification, and then guide him to the Plains of Abraham, whither his father had gone.
The soldier civilly, and indeed thankfully assented, and they proceeded together. The man, evidently pleased with the intelligent questions put to him by Edward, which he answered in a way that indicated a knowledge of his profession quite unusual in a common soldier. Edward inquired the design of the Martello towers, of the bastions, scarps and counterscarps, of this fosse, that glacis, &c. &c. at last, stopping suddenly, while his dilating form and beaming face expressed the youthful heroism that glowed in his breast, he said, “It is a strong place, a very strong place indeed; but I do think we could take it.”
“We!” exclaimed the soldier, darting at him a look of eager inquiry; “who are we?”
“Why, we Americans.”