While some of the British battalions were disordered in the rapid advance, a body of about 800 French and Canadians collected in a coppice near the St. Charles, and assumed a somewhat threatening appearance on the left flank of the pursuers. Perceiving this, Townshend ordered Colonel Hunt Walsh, with the 28th and 43d, to crush the new resistance. These two battalions were well in hand; Walsh wheeled them promptly to the left, and, after a sharp struggle, cleared the coppice.
The battle was now over, but the general of the victorious army had still to guard against another antagonist, as yet untouched and unbroken. It has been related, that, before the commencement of the action, the extreme left of the British position had been threatened by some light cavalry—the advance guard of De Bougainville's formidable corps. The main body and their chief had now arrived upon the scene; but, so rapid and complete had been the ruin of Montcalm's army, that his lieutenant found not a single unbroken company remaining in the field with which to co-operate. He himself, however, was still strong; besides 350 cavalry—an arm in which the invaders were altogether deficient—he had with him nearly 1500 men, a large proportion of whom were Grenadiers and Light Infantry.
Townshend hastened to recall his disordered battalions, but he determined not to imperil the victory by seeking another engagement with fresh troops. His arrangements were strictly defensive; while re-forming a line of battle, he dispatched the 35th and the 48th with two field-pieces to meet De Bougainville, and, if possible, check his advance. The demonstration sufficed; the French soldiers, demoralized by the defeat of their general-in-chief, were in no condition to meet a victorious enemy; they recoiled before the resolute front of the British force, and retreated with precipitation up the left bank of the St. Lawrence. There Townshend did not deem it prudent to follow; the ground was swampy, and, for the most part, still covered with the primeval forest, affording every advantage to a retreating enemy.
As soon as the action was over, Townshend began to intrench his camp, and to widen the road up the cliff for the convenience of the artillery and stores. De Bougainville did not halt till he reached Cape Rouge, and M. de Vaudreuil,[188] with his 1500 Canadians, deserted the lines west of the Montmorency, left all his artillery, ammunition, tents, and stores behind him, and made a hurried retreat toward Jacques Cartier.
The loss of the English in this memorable battle amounted to 55 killed and 607 wounded of all ranks; that of the French has never been clearly ascertained, but it was not probably less than 1500 in killed and wounded and prisoners. Moreover, a very large proportion of the Canadian militia dispersed and never rejoined their colors. On the British side, the Louisburg Grenadiers upon the right, and the 58th and 78th upon the left, suffered the most severely. The five regular French battalions were almost destroyed, and one of the two pieces of artillery which they had brought into action was captured by the victors.[189]
While the British troops were carrying all before them, their young general's life was ebbing fast away. When struck for the third time, he sank down; he then supported himself for a few minutes in a sitting posture, with the assistance of Lieutenant Brown, Mr. Henderson, a volunteer, and a private soldier, all of the Grenadier company of the 22d; Colonel Williamson, of the Royal Artillery, afterward went to his aid. From time to time, Wolfe tried, with his faint hand, to clear away the death-mist that gathered on his sight; but the effort seemed vain; for presently he lay back, and gave no signs of life beyond a heavy breathing and an occasional groan. Meantime the French had given way, and were flying in all directions. The grenadier officers, seeing this, called out to those around him, "See, they run." The words caught the ear of the dying man; he raised himself, like one aroused from sleep, and asked eagerly, "Who runs?" "The enemy, sir," answered the officer: "they give way every where." "Go one of you to Colonel Burton," said Wolfe: "tell him to march Webbe's (the 48th) regiment with all speed down to the St. Charles River, to cut off the retreat." His voice grew faint as he spoke, and he turned as if seeking an easier position on his side; when he had given this last order, he seemed to feel that he had done his duty, and added feebly, but distinctly, "Now, God be praised, I die happy." His eyes then closed, and, after a few convulsive movements, he became still.[190] Despite the anguish of his wounds, he died happy; for through the mortal shades that fell upon his soul, there rose, over the unknown world's horizon, the dawn of an eternal morning.
"GENERAL ORDERS.
"14th of September, 1759. Plains of Abraham.
"Parole—Wolfe. Countersign—England.
"The remaining general officers fit to act take the earliest opportunity to express the praise which is due to the conduct and bravery of the troops; and the victory, which attended it, sufficiently proves the superiority which this army has over any number of such troops as they engaged yesterday. They wish that the person who lately commanded them had survived so glorious a day, and had this day been able to give the troops their just encomiums. The fatigues which the troops will be obliged to undergo, to reap the advantage of this victory, will be supported with a true spirit, as this seems to be the period which will determine, in all probability, our American labors."
Deep and sincere was the sorrow of the English army for the loss of their chief; they almost grieved over their dearly-purchased victory.
Late on the evening of the 14th of September Montcalm also died. When his wound was first examined, he asked the surgeon if it was mortal; and being answered that it was, he said, "I am glad of it: how long can I survive?" "Perhaps a day, perhaps less," replied the surgeon. "So much the better," rejoined Montcalm; "I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec." When his wound was dressed, M. de Ramsay, the governor of the city, visited him, and desired to receive his commands for the defense; but he refused to occupy himself any longer with worldly affairs: "My time is very short," continued he, "so pray leave me. I wish you all comfort, and to be happily extricated from your present perplexities." He then called for his chaplain, who, with the bishop of the colony, administered the last offices of religion, and remained with him till he expired.