At ten o'clock the brigadier moved upon the heights of Point Levi, preceded by a cloud of skirmishers. The way lay over a pleasant road, with a highly cultivated country on either side, and was not disputed till the British troops began to ascend the hill. They soon forced the height, and hurried on to the village facing Quebec. Here, however, they received a check. A strong body of Canadians threw themselves into the church and the adjoining houses, and another detachment held stoutly to a rocky eminence further to the rear. The English rallied and gained possession of the buildings, but were speedily dislodged again; the position was not finally won till the 78th Highlanders forced the flank in overwhelming numbers, and Monckton himself, with four companies of Grenadiers, broke through the front. The Canadians and Indians, who had fought so stoutly, although not altogether more than 1000 strong, crossed over to Quebec when evening fell. The British brigade housed themselves luxuriously in the neat village of Point Levi: no guns fell into their hands, nor were any works in progress on that side of the river.
Montcalm felt that the assailants had gained a dangerous advantage in the possession of Point Levi. Although at a distance of three quarters of a mile from the city, heavy ordnance played from thence with ruinous effect. In a council of war he had urged that 4000 men should be strongly intrenched upon this position, with orders to hold it to the last extremity; but his opinion was overruled by the governor, M. de Vaudreuil, and from that time a fatal alienation arose between the two French authorities. However, in the morning of the 1st of July, Montcalm made a feeble effort to dislodge the British, by attacking their position from three floating batteries. For an hour and a half the French continued an annoying but almost harmless fire. Then Saunders dispatched the Trent frigate to check the insult; favorable winds carried her up to the scene of action, and a broadside concluded the business.
From that time Wolfe exerted himself to put Point Levi beyond the reach of further insult; batteries were thrown up, and guns mounted in commanding situations. In the afternoon skirmishes took place, both in the woods near this new position and on the island of Orleans; some lives were lost without any result, and both parties behaved with savage cruelty. On the following morning this useless mischief was continued: the same evening Wolfe made a reconnoissance in some force up the right bank of the river, and marked out the ground for batteries to bombard the town. Some of the Rangers under Major Scott penetrated as far as the Chaudière River in this advance, but performed nothing worthy of notice.
The 48th Regiment, the Grenadiers and Light Infantry of the division, and the Rangers, with working parties from other corps, broke ground upon the high lands to the west of Point Levi on the 5th of July. They labored with zeal, and the batteries which were to play from thence upon Quebec soon began to assume a formidable appearance. The Rangers took post during the day in small parties upon the adjoining hills, which commanded the several approaches to the works, and erected small breast-works for their defense, while they guarded against the sudden approach of an enemy. In the mean time a portion of Townsend's brigade, under Colonel Carleton, was engaged in throwing up strong intrenchments on the westernmost point of Orleans. When these two positions were occupied, the safety of the fleet in the basin was assured; nevertheless, by some unaccountable temerity or carelessness, the Leostoff cutter allowed herself to be surprised and taken by the enemy while sounding. This little incident brought on a brisk cannonade, which continued for nearly two hours, without, however, causing damage to either party.
When the works on Point Levi and on the western extremity of the island of Orleans were in a respectably defensible condition, Wolfe turned his attention to the north shore of the St. Lawrence, where a favorable position offered for threatening the French left. On the morning of the 9th the lighter vessels of the British fleet hauled in to the shore as close as the depth of water would permit, and opened a fire upon the enemy's lines between Quebec and the Falls of Montmorency. The range was distant; nevertheless, the seamen plied their guns with such effect that Montcalm found it necessary to strike the encampments near the shore, and retire upon the high crest which extended along his whole front: there he was beyond reach of annoyance. At the first dawn, Monckton's brigade, with the exception of the working parties, was formed on the slopes of the hills opposite Quebec, and ostentatiously marched up the left bank of the St. Lawrence westward from Point Levi. The object of the bombardment by the ships, and this movement of the troops, was to divert the attention of the enemy from Wolfe's real object, which was to establish himself upon the north shore by the Falls of Montmorency.
The movement of Monckton's corps was marked by an incident pre-eminently lamentable, even among daily scenes of death and misery. A lieutenant of Rangers, with twenty men, was sent to scour the woods to the southward of the line of march, and, if possible, to gain information of the enemy's movements. They pressed forward with somewhat rash zeal into the woody solitudes, and, being overtaken by the night, lay on their arms and returned the next morning. While retracing their steps, they were attracted by smoke rising from a neighboring clearing. They approached having spread themselves in a circle, to prevent the escape of those they might discover. The smoke proceeded from a log hut, where they found and captured a man and his three sons, the eldest a youth of fifteen years. The Rangers then hurried homeward with their prize. They had not got far on their road when the horrible war-whoop of the Indians rose behind them, and a glance showed that their assailants were in overpowering numbers. There was, however, still hope of escape, for the Rangers were hardy and active men, skilled in forest craft, and, happily, well acquainted with the rugged and intricate paths. They plunged into the woods at a running pace, and in a few minutes emerged into another road unknown to their fierce pursuers. But here an unfortunate difficulty arose: the elder prisoners were hurried along, unwillingly enough, but in terrified silence; not so the two younger, who were mere children: they filled the air with lamentations and cries of alarm that neither entreaties nor threats could check. The British lieutenant then begged of them to leave him and return home; but the poor innocents only clung the more closely to him, and wailed the louder. The sole chance of escape lay in reaching, unobserved, a pass which led to the new position of Monckton's brigade, and by which the Indians might not expect them to retreat. The hapless children, however, by their screams, guided the savages in their pursuit through the tangled woods, and again the war-whoop sounded close behind the fugitives. An awful moment of irresolution was succeeded by an awful resolve; the British officer, with a mournful heart, gave the order that his young prisoners should be silenced forever. The Rangers reached the brigade in safety before evening.
While the attention of the enemy was distracted by Monckton and the fleet, Wolfe passed over from Orleans to the eastward of Montmorency, with a large force, at about one o'clock in the day, and encamped, unopposed, on the left bank of the stream close to the falls. He immediately placed some Light Artillery in position, and commenced intrenching himself. The works were vigorously continued the following morning, and Captain Dank's company of Rangers were pushed forward into the woods to cover some parties who were engaged in making fascines for the intrenchments. The Rangers had scarcely entered the bush when they were suddenly and fiercely assailed by a considerable body of ambushed Indians, and driven back with considerable loss. When they got into the open ground, however, they rallied; the savages, elated with their first success, pressed boldly on and renewed the combat, forcing the British troops back over the fields toward the camp, and scalping and massacring the wounded in the sight of their comrades. But the state of affairs was soon changed; some advanced companies of Townshend's brigade, with two field-pieces hurried out on hearing the firing: they fell on the flank of the Indians, and slaughtered them without mercy.
The plan of Wolfe's operations was now fairly developed. The mass of his army was formed in threatening array upon the extreme left of the French position, and from a considerable height looked down almost into the rear of their intrenchments. The British general had hoped that from hence he might find a ford across the rapid stream of the Montmorency, and force on an action in the open country behind the enemy's lines; there he doubted not that the courage and discipline of his troops would give him an easy victory over the numerous Canadian levies. But he had altogether mistaken the difficulties of the undertaking. The only ford was three miles up the stream; the bush was so dense and the country so rugged that a few Indians sufficed to baffle his repeated attempts to reconnoiter, and killed or wounded no less than forty of his men. He could no longer endure the slaughter of his magnificent Light Infantry by the hands of unseen savages, and altogether abandoned the idea of crossing the river above the falls.
Montcalm quickly perceived the dangerous error of the English in dividing their small army. As soon as Monckton's brigade commenced to plant their guns on Point Levi, 1500 Canadians and savages were pushed across the St. Lawrence from Quebec, and posted in the woods on the right bank: they reconnoitered the English position, and, having obtained a re-enforcement of 300 colony troops, prepared for an attack on the night of the 13th. M. de Charrier, seigneur of Point Levi, a skillful and a resolute man, commanded the assailants; meanwhile, Wolfe, on hearing of the enemy's movements, had taken the command, in person, at the south side of the river. The night came on still and cloudless, but very dark; the weather was intensely hot, and the British troops, wearied with the labors of the day, lay in profound repose, not dreaming that the French would venture a night attack. The sentries, indeed, paced their rounds, but, unconscious of the danger that lay under the dark shadows of the neighboring forest, they still shouted "All's well" as each hour passed away.
The French advanced in two columns, silently, and at first with great steadiness; as they proceeded, the difficulty of the road and the extreme darkness of the night threw them into some confusion; despite the skill of their leader and his perfect knowledge of the ground, the disorder increased. The most perfect discipline and self-confidence are rarely proof against the hazards of a night attack; among raw levies, such as were the bulk of De Charrier's followers, disorder, once commenced, becomes inextricable. While he yet strove to re-form the broken ranks, an unexplained noise in a coppice by the road side struck the Canadians with sudden panic, and they rapidly retraced their steps. The rear column, hearing the approach of numerous footsteps from the front, supposed that the English were upon them, and poured a close volley among the fugitives, who again, under a like mistake, returned the fire. The bloodshed was only stayed by both parties flying in different directions. Not less than seventy of the French were killed and wounded in this untoward enterprise. The attempt was not renewed.