The Comte de Frontenac continued the preparations for defense with unwearied industry. The regular soldiers and militia were alike constantly employed upon the works, till in a short time Quebec was tolerably secure from the chances of a sudden assault. Lines of strong palisades, here and there armed with small batteries, were formed round the crown of the lofty headland, and the gates of the city were barricaded with massive beams of timber and casks filled with earth. A number of cannon were mounted on advantageous positions, and a large wind-mill of solid masonry was fitted up as a cavalier. The lower town was protected by two batteries each of three guns, and the streets leading up the steep, rocky face of the height were embarrassed with several intrenchments and rows of "chevaux de frise." Subsequently during the siege two other batteries were erected a little above the level of the river. The commanding natural position of the stronghold, however, offered far more serious obstacles to the assailants than the hasty and imperfect fortifications.
At daylight on the 5th of October the white sails of the British fleet were seen rounding the headland of Point Levi, and crowding to the northern shore of the river, near the village of Beauport; at about ten o'clock they dropped anchor, lowered their canvas, and swung round with the receding tide. There they remained inactive till the following morning. On the 6th, Sir William Phipps sent a haughty summons to the French chief, demanding an unconditional surrender in the name of King William of England, and concluding with this imperious sentence: "Your answer positive in an hour, returned with your own trumpet, with the return of mine, is required upon the peril that will ensue."
The British officer who bore the summons was led blind-fold through the town, and ushered into the presence of Comte Frontenac in the council-room of the castle of Quebec. The bishop, the intendant, and all the principal officers of the government surrounded the proud old noble. "Read your message," said he. The Englishman read on, and when he had finished, laid his watch upon the table with these words: "It is now ten; I await your answer for one hour." The council started from their seats, surprised out of their dignity by a burst of sudden anger. The comte paused for a time ere he could restrain his rage sufficiently to speak, and then replied, "I do not acknowledge King William, and I well know that the Prince of Orange is a usurper, who has violated the most sacred rights of blood and religion ... who wishes to persuade the nation that he is the saviour of England and the defender of the faith, though he has violated the laws and privileges of the kingdom, and overturned the Church of England: this conduct, the Divine Justice to which Phipps appeals will one day severely punish."
The British officer, unmoved by the storm of indignation which his message had aroused, desired that this fierce reply should be rendered to him in writing for the satisfaction of his chief. "I will answer your master by the mouth of my cannon," replied the angry Frenchman, "that he may learn that a man of my rank is not to be summoned in this manner." Thus ended the laconic conference.
On the return of the messenger, Sir William Phipps called a council of war: it was determined at once to attack the city. At noon, on the 8th, 1300 men were embarked in the boats of the squadron, under the command of Major Walley, and landed without opposition at La Canardière, a little to the east of the River St. Charles. While the main body was being formed on the muddy shore, four companies pushed on toward the town, in skirmishing order, to clear the front; they had scarcely begun the ascent of the sloping banks when a sharp fire was poured upon them by 300 of the Canadian militia, posted among the rocks and bushes on either flank, and in a small hamlet to the right. Some of the British winced under this unexpected volley, fired, and fell back; but the officers, with prompt resolution, gave the order to charge, and themselves gallantly led the way; the soldiers followed at a rapid pace, and speedily cleared the ground. Major Walley then advanced with his whole force to the St. Charles River, still, however, severely harassed by dropping shots from the active light troops of the French: there he bivouacked for the night, while the enemy retreated into the garrison.
Toward evening of the same day the four largest vessels of Phipps's squadron moved boldly up the river, and anchored close against the town. They opened a spirited but ineffectual fire; their shot, directed principally against the lofty eminence of the Upper Town, fell almost harmless, while a vigorous cannonade from the numerous guns of the fortress replied with overwhelming power. When night interrupted the strife, the British ships had suffered severely, their rigging was torn by the hostile shot, and the crews had lost many of their best men. By the first light of morning, however, Phipps renewed the action with pertinacious courage, but with no better success. About noon the contest became evidently hopeless to the stubborn assailants; they weighed anchor, and, with the receding tide, floated their crippled vessels down the stream, beyond the reach of the enemy's fire.[411]
The British troops, under Major Walley, although placed in battle array at daylight, remained inactive, through some unaccountable delay, while the enemy's attention was diverted by the combat with Phipps's squadron. At length, about noon, they moved upon the formidable stronghold along the left bank of the River St. Charles. Some allied savages plunged into the bush in front to clear the advance, a line of skirmishers protected either flank, and six field-pieces accompanied the march of the main body. After having proceeded for some time without molestation, they were suddenly and fiercely assailed by 200 Canadian volunteers under M. de Longueuil; the Indians were at once swept away, the skirmishers overpowered, and the British column itself was forced back by their gallant charge. Walley, however, drew up his reserve in some brushwood a little in the rear, and finally compelled the enemy to retreat. During this smart action, M. de Frontenac, with three battalions, placed himself upon the opposite bank of the river, in support of the volunteers, but showed no disposition to cross the stream. That night, the English troops, harassed, depressed, diminished in numbers, and scantily supplied, again bivouacked upon the marshy banks of the stream: a severe frost, for which they were but ill prepared, chilled the weary limbs of the soldiers and enhanced their sufferings.
On the 10th, Walley once more advanced upon the French positions, in the hope of breaching their palisades by the fire of his field pieces; but this attempt was altogether unsuccessful. His flanking parties fell into ambuscades, and were very severely handled, and his main body was checked and finally repulsed by a heavy fire from a fortified house on a commanding position which he had ventured to attack. Utterly dispirited by this failure, the British fell back in some confusion to the landing-place, yielding up in one hour what they had so hardly won. That night many of the soldiers strove to force their way into the boats, and order was with great difficulty restored; the next day they were harassed by a continual skirmish. Had it not been for the gallant conduct of "Captain March, who had a good company, and made the enemy give back," the confusion would probably have been irretrievable. When darkness put an end to the fire on both sides, the English troops received orders to embark in the boats, half a regiment at a time. But all order was soon lost; four times as many as the boats could sustain crowded down at once to the beach, rushed into the water, and pressed on board. The sailors were even forced to throw some of these panic-stricken men into the river, lest all should sink together. The noise and confusion increased every moment, despite the utmost exertions of the officers, and daylight had nearly revealed the dangerous posture of affairs before the embarkation was completed. The guns were abandoned, with some valuable stores and ammunition. Had the French displayed, in following up their advantages, any portion of the energy and skill which had been so conspicuous in their successful defense, the British detachment must infallibly have been either captured or totally destroyed.
Sir William Phipps, having failed by sea and land, resolved to withdraw from the disastrous conflict. After several ineffectual attempts to recover the guns and stores which Major Walley had been forced to abandon, he weighed anchor and descended the St. Lawrence to a place about nine miles distant from Quebec, whence he sent to the Comte de Frontenac to negotiate for an exchange of prisoners. Humbled and disappointed, damaged in fortune and reputation, the English chief sailed from the scene of his defeat; but misfortune had not yet ceased to follow him, for he left the shattered wrecks of no less than nine of his ships among the dangerous shoals of the St. Lawrence. The government of Massachusetts was dismayed at the disastrous news of which Phipps was himself the bearer. He arrived at Boston on the 19th of November, with the remains of his fleet and army, his ships damaged and weather beaten, and his men almost in a state of mutiny from having received no pay. In these straits the colonial government found it impracticable to raise money, and resorted to "bills of credit," the first paper money which had ever been issued on the American continent.
Great indeed was the joy and triumph of the French when the British fleet disappeared from the beautiful basin of Quebec. With a proud heart the gallant old Comte de Frontenac penned the dispatch which told his royal master of the victory. He failed not to dwell upon the distinguished merit of the colonial militia, by whose loyalty and courage the arms of France had been crowned with success. In grateful memory of this brave defense, the French king caused a medal to be struck, bearing the inscription, "FRANCIA IN NOVO ORBE VICTRIX: KEBECA LIBERATA.—A.D., M.D.C.X.C." In the lower town a church was built by the inhabitants to celebrate their deliverance from the British invaders, and dedicated to "Nôtre Dame de la Victoire."