An officer of the 43d regiment, whose carefully-kept journal furnishes much valuable information on the subject of this campaign, states that Montcalm paid the English army the following compliment after the battle: "Since it was my misfortune to be discomfited and mortally wounded, it is a great consolation to me to be vanquished by so great and generous an enemy. If I could survive this wound, I would engage to beat three times the number of such forces as I commanded this morning with a third of their number of British troops."
Townshend, on the day succeeding the battle, busied himself incessantly in pushing on works against the city, and cutting off from the besieged all communication with the country. On the 17th, Admiral Saunders moved the whole of the British fleet into the basin, and prepared to attack the Lower Town; and by that evening no less than sixty-one pieces of heavy, and fifty-seven of light ordnance, were mounted on the British batteries and ready to open fire. The besieged had endeavored to retard these proceedings by constantly plying all their available guns, but did not succeed in inflicting any annoyance of importance. Before nightfall, an officer, bearing a flag of truce, approached the English camp, and was conducted to the general; to him he gave the governor, M. de Ramsay's, proposition to surrender if not relieved by the following morning.
In the mean time, M. de Vaudreuil, who had, with his disorganized followers, joined De Bougainville at Cape Rouge on the evening of the 13th, dispatched a courier to M. de Levi,[191] at Montreal, with tidings of the disaster, and to require his immediate presence to command the army in Montcalm's room. This done, the marquis summoned his principal officers to a council of war, and gave his opinion "that they should take their revenge on the morrow, and endeavor to wipe off the disgrace of that fatal day." But this bold proposition met with no more support in the council than it really possessed in De Vaudreuil's own mind. The officers were unanimously of opinion "that there was an absolute necessity for the army to retire to Jacques Cartier, and that no time should be lost." In consequence of this decision, the French immediately resumed their retreat, leaving every thing behind them, and marched all night to gain Point aux Trembles, which was fixed as the rendezvous of the whole remaining force.
On the receipt of the disastrous news of Montcalm's defeat and death, M. de Levi instantly departed from Montreal to take the command of the shattered army. On the 16th he arrived; after a few hours' conference with the Marquis de Vaudreuil, it was agreed to send the following message to M. de Ramsay: "We exhort you, by all means, to hold out to the last extremity. On the 18th the whole army shall be in motion: a disposition is made to throw in a large supply of provisions, and to relieve the town." The courier reached the besieged early on the 18th, but it was too late; the governor was already in treaty with Townshend, and on that morning, the 18th day of September, 1759, Quebec surrendered.[192] In the evening the keys of the city were delivered up, and the Louisburg Grenadiers marched in, preceded by a detachment of artillery and one gun, with the British flag hoisted on a staff upon the carriage: this flag was then placed upon the highest point of the citadel. Captain Palliser, of the navy, with a body of seamen, at the same time took possession of the Lower Town.
The news of these great events reached England but two days later than Wolfe's discouraging dispatch of the 9th of September;[193] an extraordinary Gazette was immediately published and circulated throughout the country, and a day of thanksgiving was appointed by proclamation through all the dominions of Great Britain.
"Then the sounds of joy and grief from her people wildly rose:"
never, perhaps, have triumph and lamentation been so strangely intermingled. Astonishment and admiration at the splendid victory, with sorrow for the loss of the gallant victor, filled every breast. Throughout all the land were illuminations and public rejoicings, except in the little Kentish village of Westerham, where Wolfe was born, and where his widowed mother[194] now mourned her only child.
Wolfe's body was embalmed, and borne to the river for conveyance to England. The army escorted it in solemn state to the beach: they mourned their young general's death as sincerely as they had followed him in battle bravely. Their attachment to him had softened their toils, their confidence in him had cheered them in disasters, and his loss now turned their triumph into sadness. When his remains arrived at Plymouth they were landed with the highest honors; minute guns were fired; the flags were hoisted half-mast high, and an escort, with arms reversed, received the coffin on the shore. He was then conveyed to Greenwich, and buried beside his father, who had died but a few months before.
The House of Commons, on the motion of Mr. Pitt, unanimously voted that a monument should be erected to Wolfe's memory in Westminster Abbey[195] at the public expense. The monument was accordingly executed, and inscribed with a eulogistic memorial in Latin. Not many years since, a pillar was erected by Lord Dalhousie, on a lofty situation in the city of Quebec, to Wolfe and Montcalm, bearing a remarkably graceful Latin inscription by Dr. Fisher, of Quebec. Lord Aylmer has also placed a small and simple monument on the Plains of Abraham, on which the date and the following words only are engraved:
"HERE WOLFE DIED VICTORIOUS."