Battles of English History

by H. B. George

Almost simultaneously with Minden, occurred the brilliant capture of Quebec by Wolfe, which meant the conquest of Canada. Pitt, who knew how to select and to appreciate a capable man, chose Wolfe, who was only a colonel, to conduct the most difficult part of a complicated scheme for invading Canada. One force was to strike at Niagara, another was to move by way of Lake Champlain, the third was to go in ships up the St. Lawrence and assail the capital. Separated as these forces were by long distances, and opposed by the French in adequate numbers, they could not possibly act in close concert. It may suffice to say of the two expeditions which started by land from the territory of the colonies, that they were conducted in a steady methodical way, and achieved a fair amount of success. Their real importance lay in their distracting the councils of the French, and preventing Wolfe from being overwhelmed. Even as it was, Wolfe was enormously overmatched so far as mere numbers were concerned; but his troops if few were of excellent quality, whereas opposed to him were still fewer French regulars, the Canadian militia, for which he had a well-grounded contempt, forming the bulk of the army that held Quebec. There was some little delay, after Wolfe had reached Louisburg, before the expedition could set sail up the St. Lawrence. The French knew of his coming, and had made all possible preparations; but as time went on, they persuaded themselves that their enemy would not venture to attempt the dangerous navigation of the river. The English admiral, however, managed to secure pilots: some of his captains even scoffed at the difficulty, and piloted themselves. Without any accident, the whole English fleet passed up the tortuous channel, and landed Wolfe's army opposite Quebec. As the governor of the province wrote home to the French minister, "the enemy passed sixty ships of war where we hardly dared risk a vessel of a hundred tons."

Quebec stands facing eastwards down the St. Lawrence at the end of a long strip of high ground, which above Quebec is about a mile wide, with extremely steep descent both southwards to the river bank, and northwards to the plain through which the river St. Charles winds, to fall into the St. Lawrence beside Quebec. Seven or eight miles below the mouth of the St. Charles, on the north bank, is a narrow and deep ravine, into which the river Montmorenci tumbles in the celebrated falls. Between the two the ground is fairly flat, but high above the level of the river, which is edged by slopes too steep to be climbed except at a few spots. Along this shore the French general Montcalm, with the concurrence of the governor Vaudreuil, thought fit to encamp his army, and to line the whole bank with fortifications. He doubtless thought to crush the English fleet if it attempted to pass up: but as the river is there two or three miles wide, the ships passed to and fro as they pleased, and whenever it suited Wolfe's purpose gave the shore batteries and camp a very unpleasant time. Immediately under Quebec the St. Lawrence is but a mile wide, and the south bank forms a great curve known as Point Levi, immediately below which, separated from it by a deep inlet, and opposite the mouth of the Montmorenci, is a long stretch of low ground called the Isle of Orleans. Wolfe arrived before Quebec on June 26, without having encountered any opposition, and landed his forces on the Isle of Orleans. Montcalm had decided on the prudent course: he believed that he had made Quebec unassailable, and he calculated that by avoiding battle and simply standing on the defensive, he would compel the English, after expending their resources, to retreat baffled. He only omitted one element from his calculation, the perfect mobility given to Wolfe by the British ships. There were French vessels in the St. Lawrence, but very inferior in force to the English: and they had been sent, with disastrous caution, far up the river for safety, and their crews withdrawn to aid in the defence of Quebec. Wolfe consequently could move his troops exactly as he pleased, to or from any part of either bank not actually occupied by the French, and they were powerless even to impede his movements. The only possible device open to the French was to attempt to destroy the fleet with fire-ships: this was tried more than once, but the English sailors on each occasion grappled the flaming masses, towed them ashore, and left them to burn themselves out innocuous.

Wolfe's first move was to occupy Point Levi, and erect batteries there, from which he could bombard the city. His next was to occupy the ground just east of the mouth of the Montmorenci, in the hope of being able to cross that stream higher up and attack the main French camp in rear. There was no real risk in dividing his army, assuming that the force on the north bank of the St. Lawrence was sufficiently large, for the detachments on the south bank were inaccessible to the French. On July 18, some ships ran past the batteries of Quebec, a feat which the French commanders had deemed impossible. Boats were dragged overland behind Point Levi, and launched on the river above. It became necessary to detach troops to guard the long line of cliffs extending for many miles above Quebec. Still Montcalm could not be brought to risk anything by a counter stroke: a direct attack on his camp seemed hopelessly rash, but there was apparently no alternative. On July 31 an attempt was made to scale the heights a little west of the Montmorenci, which failed: the over-eagerness of the detachment ordered to lead the attack spoiled what little chance there may have been, but success was hardly possible. Then Wolfe fell ill, and for weeks nothing was done. When he recovered, if it can be called recovery for an acute attack of a mortal disease to pass away, he turned his attention in earnest to the river above Quebec. Ship after ship ran the gauntlet of the batteries, and troops were pushed up the southern bank. A large French force under Bougainville had to be employed to guard, as best they could, the long line of cliffs on the opposite shore. Several attempts at landing were made, without achieving much except wearing out the French troops with incessant marching to and fro, while the English, conveyed rapidly in boats, could threaten any point they pleased. Obviously however, it was one thing to land a party for a mere raid; it was far more difficult, under the conditions, to land the whole army, small as it was, and establish it on the high ground west of Quebec. Before he had seen the place, Wolfe had hoped to attack the city in this way: now, after proving that no other course was feasible, he reverted to this desperate venture.

When Wolfe evacuated his camp by the Montmorenci, taking the soldiers on ship-board, the natural hope of the French was that this step was preparatory to retreat. They knew, or thought they knew, that the English admiral was anxious to be gone, before the season was too far advanced. Nor could they understand the meaning of his taking the ships up the river: they believed the north bank, guarded as it was, to be unassailable. Wolfe however had fully resolved on making the attempt; his great anxiety was to be fit to lead in person, since he would not devolve on any one else the responsibility of probable failure. "I know perfectly well you cannot cure me," he said to his physician: "but pray make me up so that I may be without pain for a few days, and able to do my duty." After reconnoitring the whole shore carefully, he decided on trying to ascend at the spot now known as Wolfe's Cove, about a mile and a half above Quebec. By so doing he would compel Montcalm, who had of course ready access to the city across the mouth of the St. Charles, to choose between fighting a battle to save Quebec and being shut up in the city, already beginning to starve. It is true that he would have in his rear the considerable force under Bougainville, but he knew that his own troops were far superior in quality to most part of the French, and relied on being able to keep Bougainville at bay. After all, if the risk was great, the prize was great also, and the only alternative was to submit to total failure.

For several days the ships were allowed to drift up and down with the tide, while boats seemed to be looking for points of landing, and Bougainville's men were kept incessantly on the move. Every man that could be spared, without evacuating the necessary stations at Point Levi and the Isle of Orleans, was brought on board the vessels: even then, the total did not reach 5000. At two a.m. on Sept. 13, the tide served, and the boats conveying the infantry who were to land dropped down the river, the other vessels following gradually. As they neared the chosen spot, they were challenged from a French post on the heights: an officer promptly replied in French, and the enemy, who were expecting some provision boats to steal down in the night, were satisfied. Fortune was favourable at the landing-place: the officer commanding the post above was negligent, and a regiment which ought to have been encamped on the plateau near at hand had been by mistake placed at some distance. The ascent was made without opposition, and before daylight Wolfe's little army, all infantry from the nature of the case, was safe on the plateau. A regiment was left to hold the landing-place, and another was pushed out to the rear to guard against the chance of attack from Bougainville. Thus the total force available for the actual battle was but 3600 men. As soon as there was light enough, Wolfe formed his line facing Quebec, about a mile from the city. English ships had been cannonading Montcalm's lines until after nightfall, and seeming to threaten a landing. When at daybreak Montcalm heard firing from above Quebec, he rode in that direction, caught sight of the red-coats on the plateau, and hastily ordered up all the troops that were within reach. By about ten o'clock the French also were in order of battle, and advanced to the attack. Two field-guns had by this time been dragged up from the landing-place; Montcalm had also obtained three from the citadel: but substantially it was a battle of infantry only, with everything to favour the English. Montcalm had not waited to bring up all possible force, and engaged with numbers little greater than Wolfe's, of by no means uniformly good quality. The English line had been long formed, and the men quietly halted in perfect order; the French advanced hastily, not in the best order. Wolfe waited till the enemy were within forty yards: then a volley along the whole line broke the attacking column to pieces. The English charged, and all was over. "As Wolfe led on his men he was struck first by one bullet, then by another, but still held on his way. A third pierced his breast and he fell. He was carried to the rear, and asked if he would have a surgeon. 'There's no need,' he answered, 'it's all over with me.' A moment after one of them cried out, 'They run: see how they run.' 'Who run?' Wolfe demanded, like a man roused from sleep. 'The enemy, sir: egad, they give way everywhere.' 'Go, one of you, to Colonel Burton,' returned the dying man; 'tell him to march Webb's regiment down to Charles river, to cut off their retreat from the bridge.' Then, turning on his side, he murmured, 'Now God be praised, I will die in peace:' and in a few moments his gallant soul had fled."[63]

Montcalm was mortally wounded in the retreat, and there was no one to replace him. Total as the French defeat had been on the field, they had still at least double the English force, and Quebec was untaken. But despondent counsels prevailed, the city capitulated, and when peace came, France had to purchase it by surrendering her one great colony; England was left mistress of North America. Well may Parkman say, "Measured by the numbers engaged, the battle of Quebec was but a heavy skirmish: measured by results, it was one of the great battles of the world."

The operations before Quebec furnish an admirable illustration, on a small scale, of what sea power can do to render assistance to land warfare. The French were forced not only to watch, but to occupy, many miles of shore; the English could post themselves where they pleased on the opposite bank in perfect security, and could move hither and thither when they desired it. They could cannonade from the water any portion of the French shore, and their enemies could never feel safe at any point against attack at any moment. The ships practically multiplied two or threefold the little force at Wolfe's disposal. Wolfe might grow sick at heart at seeing no opening for decisive action, his men might grow weary of delay, but they had no hardships to suffer. The French position was extraordinarily strong, and Montcalm steadily patient in giving his opponent no opportunity. Wolfe was obviously right in exhausting all other possibilities before trying a venture which if unsuccessful would have been fatal; but when he did try it, his naval strength enabled him to do so with every chance in his favour which the situation allowed.

Of the war of American independence it does not enter into my plan to write. A detailed narrative would only ring the changes on two or three simple themes. Disciplined troops might be expected, unless grossly ill-commanded, to have the advantage over the colonists. The vast extent of the country made it impossible for the small British armies effectually to occupy more than isolated bits. The generals sent out from England were some of them incompetent, some neglectful, all face to face with a task beyond their strength. Washington, who held the chief control of the colonial forces, did his work with great skill and most admirable patience, and he was on the whole fortunate in his subordinates. Had not France intervened, the war might very probably have been much longer protracted. But when France and Spain and Holland had all joined in the war, the British navy was no longer dominant in the Atlantic; supplies, reinforcements, communications generally, ceased to reach America with ease and certainty, and the case became hopeless. British credit was restored, to say the least, by the great naval victory of Rodney in the West Indies, and by the total failure of the French and Spaniards to make any impression on Gibraltar; but the American colonies had none the less achieved their independence.