When they had almost reached their landing-place they heard a sudden call from a French sentry, "Qui vive!" "France," replied one of Wolfe's officers, who spoke French. "A quel régiment?" "De la Reine," was the reply, and thinking the boats were under the control of Frenchmen carrying provisions to Montcalm, the sentry let them pass. Later when challenged by another sentry, the same English officer said in French: "Provision-boats. Don't make a noise—the English will hear us."
At length they came to the spot since called Wolfe's Cove, and there landed. The twenty-four volunteers clambered up the path in the darkness and, reaching the top, surprised the small number of Frenchmen stationed there, and quickly overpowered them. It was with much difficulty that Wolfe's army succeeded, by seizing hold of trees and bushes, in getting to the top with muskets, cannons, and supplies.
At daybreak, Wolfe chose as the field of battle the Plains of Abraham, a high stretch of land extending along the river just above the town.
The brave Montcalm, in doubt and perplexity, had spent a sleepless night pacing to and fro. When told of the landing of the English troops he rode up from his camp to see what was going on. Amazed at the "silent wall of red" presented by the English army drawn up in battle array, he said, "This is a serious business."
Wolfe, anxious but calm, rode to and fro, inspiring his soldiers with confidence. "Victory or death" was their watchword, for in case of failure retreat was impossible.
By ten o'clock the French were in line of battle, ready for the onset. With loud shouts, they rushed upon the English. But the latter, waiting quietly until the enemy was only forty paces away, met them with a withering fire that strewed the ground with dead and dying men. While the French were wavering, the English fired another deadly volley, and then with victorious shouts rushed headlong upon the confused ranks.
The fighting was stubborn and furious, and Wolfe was in the thickest of the fray. While he was leading a charge, a bullet tore through his wrist. Quickly wrapping his handkerchief about the wound, he dashed forward until he was for the third time struck by a bullet, this time receiving a mortal wound. Four of his men bore him in their arms to the rear, and wished to send for a surgeon; but Wolfe said, "There's no need; it's all over with me." A little later, hearing someone cry "They run; see how they run!" he asked, "Who runs?" "The enemy, sir. Egad, they give way everywhere!" Then said Wolfe in his last moments, "Now, God be praised. I will die in peace."
Montcalm, too, died like a hero. Shot through the body, he was supported on either side as he passed through the town; but when he heard cries of distress and pity from his friends and followers, he said, "It's nothing, it's nothing; don't be troubled for me, good friends." Being told that he could not live many hours, he exclaimed, "Thank God, I shall not live to see Quebec surrendered." A few days later Quebec came into the hands of the English. Its fall meant the loss to France of all her possessions in North America except two small islands for fishing-stations in the Gulf of St. Lawrence.
The treaty of peace at the end of the war, called the Last French War,[8] was signed at Paris in 1763. By this treaty France ceded to Spain all the territory between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains; also the town of New Orleans, controlling the navigation of the Mississippi. To England she gave Canada and all the territory east of the Mississippi. Thus by a single final blow did Wolfe so weaken the hold of the French upon North America, as to compel them to give up practically all they had there.