“I’m not afraid to do it,” responded Dave quickly, and caught hold of the long rope, and seeing this Barringford did the same.
A nasty, cold rain was falling, and though sixteen men were dragging at the rope of each piece of artillery, it was all they could do to move the cannon through the mud and slush. Sometimes some of the soldiers would drop out and others would take their places, but Dave and Barringford stuck to their posts.
It was not long before St. Foy was reached. The garrison was being hotly pressed by the French when General Murray’s artillery opened a fire on the enemy, driving them back with considerable loss.
“Make ’em run!” was the English cry, and soon the foot soldiers were charging straight past the town. Dave and Barringford were in this charge, and for ten minutes were exposed to a raking fire from two sides. Neither was struck, although Barringford had the sleeve of his coat torn by a bullet.
But Murray knew that the French outnumbered him, and that it would be foolish just then to try to hold St. Foy. His object was to offer protection to the various garrisons falling back on the city, and in this he was successful. Soon St. Foy was abandoned, and the church, containing a large amount of military stores, blown up.
The fight had been a hard one, and when the men got back to Quebec, some of them were half perished with the wet and cold. Dave himself was in a shiver, and when a big bonfire was lit in a public square he got as close to it as possible to dry and warm himself.
Although he had fallen back on Quebec, General Murray did not intend to remain there. He felt that the walls of the city were in no condition to withstand a bombardment at the hands of Lévis, and that to raise earthworks outside would be an almost impossible task, owing to the half-frozen condition of the ground.
“If we remain here we shall have to stand a long siege,” said he to his fellow-officers. “Lévis is exhausted by his forced marches. Let us fall upon him without delay.”
Officers and soldiers were willing to meet the French, and some even left the hospital that they might take part in the coming contest. All was bustle and excitement, and soon Murray had around him his whole force of about three thousand soldiers.
The march forward was as tiresome as the one to St. Foy had been. Five hundred men dragged twenty-four pieces of artillery and the tumbrils containing the ammunition. In spots the cannon and carts sank down hub-deep, and had to be pried out with logs and poles. More than one soldier fell into a hole up to his waist and had to be dragged out to save him from being frozen to death.