It was quite clear to Wolfe and Saunders that Amherst was not to give them any assistance in the difficult work before them. It was on the night of the 12th of September that Wolfe carried out the project which had been for some time forming in his mind. He had managed to concentrate a force of four thousand men above the fortress without awakening the suspicions of the French, who were confident that Bougainville was fully able to prevent any force from attempting so impossible and foolhardy an exploit as the ascent of the high cliffs. The visitor to the historic places around Quebec will be deeply interested in a cove, just above Sillery, now known as Wolfe's Cove, but in old times as the Anse-au-Foulon. A zig-zag and difficult path led from this cove to the top of the height, and Wolfe conceived the hope that it was possible to gain access in this way to the table-land where he could best give battle to Montcalm. He saw that the cliff at this point was defended by only a small guard, under the command, as it afterwards appeared, of Vergor, who had been tried and acquitted for his questionable surrender of Beauséjour. When the English boats dropped down the river with the tide at midnight, on the 12th of September, there was no moon, and the stars alone gave a faint light. Montcalm had no conception of the importance of the movement of troops which, it had been reported to him, was going on for some days above Quebec, and his attention was diverted by the constant bombardment on the town from Lévis, and a fierce cannonading that was kept up against Beauport by Saunders. Wolfe's thoughts on that memorable night as his boat passed under the shadow of the dark cliff, we can imagine from an incident that is related by one who was present. Hardly a dip of an oar was heard from the flotilla as it was borne down the river, but from Beauport and Lévis came the constant roar of cannon. Every moment was carrying him to fame and death, and perhaps it was some foreboding of his fate that led him to repeat the words of Gray's Elegy, which from that hour has become more famous in English literature:
"The boast of heraldy, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour;
The paths of glory lead but to the grave."
As the boats came close to a point on the bank a sentinel challenged, "Qui vive?" "La France!" replied an officer of Fraser's Highlanders who spoke French well. "À quel regiment?" again challenged the suspicious soldier. "De la Reine," answered the same officer, who happily remembered that some companies of this regiment were with Bougainville. Fate that eventful night was on the side of the bold Englishman. The French were expecting a convoy of provisions, and the sentinel called out, "Passe!" Another sentry, more suspicious, ran down to the water's edge, and asked, "Pourquoi est-ce que vous ne parlez plus haut?" The captain replied with wonderful coolness, "Tais-toi, nous serons entendus!"—an answer which satisfied the guard. In this way the English boats were able to steal into the cove without being stopped. A few minutes later the heights were gained, the guard was overpowered, and the British regiments were climbing to the level land without hindrance. By six o'clock Wolfe was able to form his army of nearly four thousand men in line of battle on the Plains of Abraham.[1] "This is a serious business," exclaimed Montcalm, as he saw the red line of the English regiments on the table-land behind Quebec. He appears to have almost immediately come to the conclusion that it was necessary to fight the English before they received any accessions of strength, and not to wait for Bougainville, who would probably come up in time with his force of two thousand men. By ten o'clock the two armies—that of Montcalm outnumbering the English probably by fifteen hundred—were advancing on each other. The French as they drew near poured a volley into the ranks of the British regiments, but the latter reserved their fire until they were within forty yards of their enemy, when they discharged their guns with most deadly effect. The French fell in heaps, and as the bullets crashed amongst their faltering ranks, they broke and retreated. The battle was literally won in a few minutes. Wolfe, who had been wounded in the wrist at the beginning of the fight, was leading a charge of the grenadiers, who had shown such fateful precipitancy at Montmorency, when he was fatally wounded. He was removed to a redoubt in the rear and laid on the ground, where he remained for a few minutes in a swoon or stupour. "They run! See how they run!" exclaimed one of the men watching their wounded chief. "Who run?" he called, as he attempted to rise for an instant. "The enemy, sir; 'egad, they give place everywhere!" "Go, one of you, my lads," ordered the dying General, whose brain was still clear and active, "with all speed to Colonel Burton, and tell him to march Webb's regiment down to the St. Charles River, and cut off the fugitives to the bridge." He turned on his side and said: "God be praised, I now die in peace." Then, in a moment later, he passed into the great silent land. Montcalm also received his death blow while he was endeavouring to give some order to his beaten army. He was borne along by the crowd of retreating soldiers through the St. Louis gate into the town. A few hours later, on the 14th September, he breathed his last. His last words were in commendation of Chevalier de Lévis—a soldier in no way inferior to himself in military genius.
Monckton, who was next to Wolfe in rank, had been also severely wounded in the battle, and consequently by a strange irony of fate, Townshend, who had been unfriendly to Wolfe, and had doubted his military capacity, was called upon to take command. Lévis was absent at Montreal, unfortunately for French interests at this very critical juncture, and Vaudreuil's opinion prevailed for a retreat to Jacques Cartier. When Lévis arrived and Vaudreuil consented to march to the support of Quebec it was too late. Ramesay had decided to capitulate, in view of the ruined condition of the city and walls, the scarcity of rations, and the unwillingness of the Canadian troops and citizens to continue the defence, when they found that the English were about to resume the attack. When the French army was moving towards Quebec, the English were in possession, and the fleur-de-lis had given place to the red cross of England on the old fort of St. Louis. By the terms of capitulation the troops were to be allowed to march out with the honours of war, and to be landed in France; the inhabitants were not to be disturbed; the free exercise of the Roman Catholic religion was allowed, and safeguards granted to houses of clergy and communities. All conditions were provisional until a treaty was arranged between the Powers.
The body of Montcalm was buried beneath the floor of the Ursuline Convent, in a grave which had been already partly hollowed out by a bursting shell. Many years later an English governor-general, Lord Aylmer, placed in the chapel of the convent a plain marble slab, with the following graceful tribute to the memory of a great soldier of whom English and French Canadians are equally proud.
HONNEUR
À
MONTCALM
LE DESTIN EN LUI DÉROBANT
LA VICTOIRE
L'A RÉCOMPENSÉ PAR
UNE MORT GLORIEUSE!
Wolfe's remains were taken to England, where they were received with every demonstration of respect that a grateful nation could give. In Europe and America the news of this victory had made the people wild with joy. "With a handful of men," said Pitt, in the House of Commons, "he has added an empire to English rule." A monument in that Walhalla of great Englishmen, Westminster Abbey, records that he "was slain in a moment of victory." On the heights of Quebec, in the rear of its noble terrace, still stands the stately obelisk which was erected in 1828 under the inspiration of the Earl of Dalhousie in honour of Montcalm and Wolfe, and above all others attracts the interest of the historical student since it pays a just tribute to the virtue and valour of the two great commanders in the following simple but well conceived language: