The Conquest of Canada, Vol. 2

by George Warburton

About the middle of February, 1759, the squadron sailed from England to Louisburg, where the whole of the British force destined for the River St. Lawrence was ordered to assemble. On the 21st of April Saunders and his armament reached the coast of Cape Breton, but the harbors were still blocked up with the ice of the preceding winter, and he could not enter. He then bent his course for Halifax, on the neighboring peninsula of Nova Scotia, and anchored the whole fleet in that magnificent sea port. Twenty-two ships of the line, five frigates, and nineteen smaller vessels of war, with a crowd of transports, were mustered under the orders of the admiral, and a detachment of Artillery and Engineers, and ten battalions of Infantry, with six companies of Rangers, formed Wolfe's command; the right flank companies of the three regiments which still garrisoned Louisburg soon after joined the army, and were formed into a corps called the Louisburg Grenadiers. The total of the land forces embarked were somewhat under 8000. Two thousand Infantry, which had formed part of the expedition to the West Indies, under Hodgson, were to have increased Wolfe's strength, but, owing to unavoidable circumstances, they were subsequently countermanded.

Before leaving England Admiral Saunders had received intelligence that the French would make an effort to run a convoy up the River St. Lawrence for the relief of Quebec, at the first opening of the navigation. He therefore dispatched Admiral Durell with a small squadron to intercept it. From Halifax Saunders proceeded to Louisburg as soon as the breaking up of the ice permitted, and there held counsel with Wolfe upon the plan of the expedition. On the 15th of May he issued a general order to the fleet, that, in case of any temporary separation from adverse weather or other accidents, Gaspé Bay, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, was to be the first place of rendezvous, and the island of Bic, 340 miles up the Great River, the next.

It was not, however, till the 1st of June that the British ships began to weigh anchor in Louisburg Harbor, and the huge armament had not altogether cleared the land for six days afterward. While spreading sail, the admiral received the unwelcome news that three French frigates and a cloud of store vessels had escaped Durell's squadron and reached Quebec in safety. Two prizes were captured, however, which had lagged somewhat behind, and they, besides a quantity of powder and other munition, contained French charts of the River St. Lawrence, the possession of which proved of great importance to the British fleet.

A cheerful and confident spirit pervaded all ranks and services in the expedition. A portion of the troops, among whom were the gallant 43d, had been for a considerable time doomed to unwilling inactivity upon the dreary shores of Nova Scotia and Cape Breton; they especially were filled with hopeful enthusiasm: as each successive transport cleared the harbor and the broad expanse of sea appeared, shouts of joy burst from the soldiers on the crowded decks.

On the 7th the fleet made the coast of Newfoundland, still covered with the winter's snow; on the 9th it passed the Bird Islands in a stiff breeze, and on the 11th made the headland of Gaspé. The desolate and dangerous island of Anticosti was passed during the 13th with "most delightful weather and favorable breezes; the fleet well together." Early in the morning of the 18th they cast anchor within sight of the island of Bic, where they found the Richmond frigate, which had got some distance in advance, perhaps urged forward by the eager spirit of Wolfe, who was on board. The next day they again sailed; on the 20th they were becalmed off the mouth of the deep and gloomy Saguenay, and many of the smaller vessels narrowly escaped being dashed against each other by the powerful currents. In the night a favorable breeze arose, and cleared them from their perilous entanglement, and now, at noon the following day, the first Canadian settlement came in sight. On the 22d a French ship was taken, on board of which were several nuns and some ladies of distinction, a relation of the Marquis de Vaudreuil, governor of Canada, among the number: they were treated with the greatest respect and courtesy, and immediately sent back to Quebec under a flag of truce.

On the 23d the fleet passed the Narrows between Isle au Condre and the shore, and in the evening came to anchor opposite the little settlement of St. Joseph. There the first act of hostility took place: the inhabitants fired upon some sounding boats which had neared the shore; this was answered by a small detachment of the 15th Regiment, sent in a barge for the protection of the sounders; little or no damage, however, was inflicted by either party. In revenge for this attack, the little Canadian village was subsequently burned, and the fields laid waste by a body of British troops from before Quebec.[176] On the 25th the difficult passage of "the Traverse" was made in safety, and on the following day the armament anchored off the fair and fertile island of Orleans, and the troops received orders of readiness to land.

About midnight, Lieutenant Meech and forty Rangers rowed silently toward the shore, and, unobserved by the Canadians, effected a landing. Leaving their boats, they pushed on through the darkness almost to the northern side of the island; suddenly they came upon a numerous body of armed peasants, who were engaged in burying different valuables for safety against the invaders. The few shots which were speedily exchanged showed the Rangers that they were outnumbered, and that a bold front was the only chance of safety. A smart skirmish ensued; the Canadians, surprised by the unexpected attack, and not aware what force might support their assailants, gave way, and retired in confusion. Lieutenant Meech, happy in having escaped the danger, also fell back, and took refuge in a farm-house till the morning. During the night the inhabitants abandoned the island.

The troops landed early on the 27th in a cove under the Church of St. Lawrence, which sacred building they were implored to respect, through the means of a placard directed to "the worthy officers of the British army." The soldiers were charmed with the beauty and richness of the island, and their comparative freedom after the weary voyage; but the mind of their young general was filled with deep and anxious interest by the sight of the stronghold that stood boldly out into the river a few miles above. Accompanied by the chief engineer, Major M'Kellar, and an escort of Light Infantry, Wolfe, as soon as he landed, pushed on to the extremity of the island nearest to Quebec. A magnificent but disheartening scene lay before him. On the summit of the highest eminence, over the strait in the Great River from whence the basin before him opened, the French flag waved. The crest of the rocky height was crowned with formidable works redoubted and flanked. On every favorable spot above, below, or on the rugged ascent, were batteries bristling with guns. This stronghold formed the right flank of a position eight miles in extent; the falls, and the deep and rapid stream of the Montmorency, was the left. The shoals and rocks of the St. Lawrence protected the broad front, and the rich valley of the St. Charles, with the prosperous and beautiful villages of Charlesburg and Beauport, gave shelter and hospitality in the rear. A crested bank of some height over the Great River marked the main line of the defenses from east to west; parapets, flanked at every favorable spot, aided their natural strength. Crowding on this embattled bank, swarming in the irregular village streets, and formed in masses on the hills beyond, were 12,000 French and Canadian troops, led by the gallant Montcalm.

While Wolfe still gazed upon this appalling prospect a storm gathered over his head, and burst in sudden violence. The teeming rain fell like a vail between him and the beautiful but dangerous shore. Lightning hissed through the air, and a hurricane swept over the river with destructive strength. Transports were driven from their moorings and cast ashore; smaller boats were dashed against each other and swamped, and the vessels of war with difficulty held to their anchors. Silently and thoughtfully the young general retraced his steps to the landing-place, his sanguine and sensitive spirit oppressed for a moment with the difficulties of his enterprise, and by the gloomy omen of the heavens. But, before he rejoined the army, the weight was flung aside; the elastic spring of his mind had resumed its play, and he entered the camp with head erect and his usual bright and fearless aspect. He did not forget that he received his high command in the confidence that "no dangers or difficulties should discourage him."

The storm passed away as suddenly as it came; the evening of the 27th fell calm and serene, but very dark; a few stars only were faintly reflected from the surface of the waters. As the British sentinels paced slowly to and fro upon the rocky shore of the island of Orleans facing toward Quebec, the silence of the night was only broken by the echo of their own footsteps and the ripple of the rapidly receding tide. About midnight a soldier on one of the most advanced points called the attention of his comrades on the neighboring posts to some dark objects moving along the river—slowly, as if drifting with the tide in the direction of the fleet, or rather toward some shoals to the northward of the fleet, which had been marked out by buoys during the preceding day. While the sentinels were yet debating about giving the alarm, each of the dark objects sent forth a crashing salvo of artillery; grape-shot rattled among the rocks and trees upon the shore, and plowed up the surrounding waters. Shells and grenades leaped into the air, and exploded with loud reports, now here, now there, on every side of the astounded soldiers. At the same time bright red flames burst from these fire-ships, sprung up among the masts and spars, quivered through the distinctly visible tracery of the rigging, and spread out in broad sheets over the collapsing sails. The river, the hostile camps, the city, and the distant mountains, instantly stood revealed as in noonday by this lurid light. As the blaze spread, explosion after explosion racked the burning vessels; they staggered and spun half round under the shocks; but still the ebb tide swept them rapidly on, near to where the crowded transports lay.