Grandma kindly complied.
"There was war at that time between England and France," she said, "and, for that reason, war between the English and French colonies of America. The French built a strong fortress on the island of Cape Breton, which is at the mouth of this, the St. Lawrence River; they began also to build forts along the lakes and the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. Fleets and armies came over from Europe, and the English and French colonists, on this side of the ocean, formed armies and engaged Indians to help them fight each other. The English attacked the French fortress of Louisburgh on Cape Breton Island, and took it. Then Wolfe, who was in command, put his troops on board of vessels, and went on up the river as far as the island of Orleans, a few miles below Quebec. There they built batteries for guns, intending to fire upon Quebec, where was the French general, Montcalm, with an army of 13,000 men; some of them regulars, the rest Canadians and Indians.
"But I will not go into all the particulars, as you two little ones could hardly understand them well enough to be much interested."
"Oh, yes, grandma, please go on," exclaimed Elsie.
"The English were unsuccessful at first, if I remember right, mamma?" remarked Rosie inquiringly.
"Yes," replied her mother. "It was nearly night when their divisions joined, and the grenadiers were so impatient that they charged madly upon the works of the French before the other troops had time to form and be ready to sustain them. As a natural consequence they were driven back to the beach with severe loss, where they sought shelter behind a redoubt abandoned by the French.
"A storm was brewing, and the French kept up a galling fire, until it burst upon their foes with great fury. The tide from the ocean came roaring up against the current of the river with unusual strength, and the British were obliged to retreat to their camp across the Montmorency, to avoid being caught in the raging waters and drowned. They had lost 180 killed and 650 wounded.
"Wolfe, who was not a strong, healthy man, was so distressed over the calamity that he became really ill. Of course he was much fatigued, and that, joined to distress of mind, brought on a fever and other illness that nearly cost him his life. It was almost a month before he was able to resume command.
"When sufficiently recovered to write a letter, he sent an almost despairing one to Pitt, but at its close said he would do his best. Then he and Admiral Saunders contrived their plan for scaling the Heights of Abraham, and so getting possession of the elevated plateau at the back of the city, where the fortifications were weakest, the French engineers having trusted for their defence to the precipices and the river below.