"If the French army be attacked and defeated, the general concludes that the town would immediately surrender, because he does not find that they have any provision in that place.
"The general is of opinion that the army should be attacked in preference to the place, because of the difficulties of penetrating from the Lower to the Upper Town; in which attempt neither the guns of the shipping nor of our own batteries could be of much use."
The letter then proceeds to suggest three different modes of attack—all, however, upon the enemy's lines between the city and Montmorency.
The brigadiers assembled in consequence of this communication, and, after having maturely deliberated, agreed in recommending the remarkable plan which Wolfe unreservedly adopted. The merit of this daring and skillful proposition belongs to Colonel George Townshend, although long disputed, or withheld by jealousy or political hostility. This able officer had left every happiness that domestic life could bestow, and every gratification which fortune and position could procure, to face the hardships and seek the honors of his country's service. When the ministry's determination to prepare the expedition against Quebec became known, he successfully exerted his powerful interest to obtain employment, and was appointed to the third post of seniority in Wolfe's army.
The general plan of operations being arranged, preparations were commenced to carry it into execution. The prospect of action revived the drooping spirits of the British troops, and tended considerably to improve their health; fever had been rife among them: a number of men and officers had already died, and the temporary hospitals were still crowded. Supplies had become so scant that horseflesh was frequently served out as rations. The duties were rendered peculiarly harassing by the subtle and dangerous hostility of the savages: although invariably defeated, they seldom failed in the first instance to surprise and massacre some hapless stragglers; and no outpost was ever safe from their attacks. The Canadians were scarcely less dangerous and vindictive; their knowledge of the country, and activity in forest warfare, gave them a great advantage over the British soldiers in irregular encounters; but, whenever they ventured to act in bodies, they were sure to meet with severe chastisement. The invaders, however, were not backward in revenging these injuries; for miles round their camp, and on the banks of the river, they devastated the country without mercy.
Stimulated by the sight of the ruin wrought in neighboring parishes, the unfortunate priest of Château Richer armed some eighty of his flock, and fortified himself in a large stone house, about ten miles eastward of the British camp, at Montmorency; from thence he sent a message, defying to the combat an English detachment posted in his neighborhood. At the same time, however, conveying in a note a polite request for the favor of the commanding officer's company at dinner, with an assurance of a safe-conduct. The strange but simple courtesy was of course rejected. In a short time a detachment of light troops, with a field-piece, was sent against the fortified house; the English took post in an adjoining road, and by a stratagem contrived to draw the little garrison from their defenses, and surrounded thirty of them, who were slain and scalped, including the unhappy priest himself. The excuse pleaded for this atrocious barbarity was, that the victims were disguised as Indians.
On the 29th of August the British troops began to evacuate their positions east of the Montmorency, in pursuance of the new plan of operations. The sick, the women, and the heavy baggage were first embarked in the boats of the fleet, and conveyed past the enemy's batteries, at a respectful distance, to the camp at Point Levi: some of the heavy guns followed on the 31st. On the 2d of the following month Wolfe sent home an admirable dispatch, with an account of his operations and failures. By the 3d of September he was prepared to move the whole of his force from the north shore. Montcalm had anticipated this step from the stir in the British lines, and from the activity of the British light troops in burning houses and laying waste the country. He therefore marched two strong columns into the woods to make for the ford of the Montmorency, and, passing by it, to attack Wolfe while in the act of embarkation. From the distant hills of Point Levi, Brigadier Monckton observed the enemy's movements: he immediately ordered his brigade under arms, hurried two regiments on board of boats supplied by the admiral, supported by some sloops and frigates, rowed toward the Beauport shore, and formed within a safe distance, as if preparing to land. This demonstration was successful; the French columns were recalled from the ford, and the British embarked unmolested.
During the 7th, 8th, and 9th, Admiral Holmes maneuvered his fleet in the upper river, harassing the enemy by constant menaces of their different posts. At the same time, Wolfe, now somewhat recovered, was, with his brigadiers, busily occupied in reconnoitering the northern bank of the St. Lawrence. At length he discovered a narrow path winding up the side of the steep precipice from the water's edge: at this spot, about three miles above the city, the lofty banks were slightly carved inward. At that time the place was known by the name of Le Foullon; it now bears a name that may never be forgotten—Wolf's Cove. At the top of the path the enemy had a small post; however, by the number of tents, which did not exceed a dozen, the British general concluded that its strength could not be more than 100 men. For miles on either side there was no other possible access to the heights than by that narrow path; but that narrow path sufficed to lead Wolfe to victory and to death.
As before stated, Quebec stands on the slope of the eastern extremity of that lofty range which here forms the left bank of the St. Lawrence; a table-land extends westward for about nine miles from the defenses of the city, occasionally wooded and undulating, but from the top of the narrow path to the ramparts open and tolerably level: this portion of the heights is called the Plains of Abraham. Wolfe's plan was to ascend this path secretly with his whole army, and make the plains his battle ground. The extraordinary audacity of the enterprise was its safety: the wise and cautious Montcalm had guarded against all the probable chances of war: he was not prepared against an attempt for which the pages of romance can scarcely furnish a parallel.
It was on the 9th of September that Wolfe addressed to the Secretary of State a letter which bears a deep and melancholy interest. His own view of the prospects of the expedition was most gloomy, and he seemed anxious to prepare the public mind in England for his failure.[179] The letter conveys the impression that he only continued his operations to divert the attention of the enemy from other points: it concludes in the following desponding words: "I am so far recovered as to do business, but my constitution is entirely ruined, without the consolation of having done any considerable service to the state, or without any prospect of it." But while he wrote almost in despair, he acted as if he had never doubted of success.