With his bases on the lie d'Orleans and Point Lévis secured, Wolfe was ready to swing to his right and take a lodgment on the Beauport shore. His plan was to land on the north side of the Montmorency River and take a position on the French left. Between six and seven o'clock on the rainy morning of July 9, Saunders sent in a squadron of frigates and bomb ketches to lay down fire along the shore. The bombardment forced the French to pull back from their positions near the river and redeploy inland on higher ground. Their withdrawal gave Wolfe his opening. The grenadiers went in first, followed by Townshend's brigade. While the main body, including artillery, dug in, rangers and light infantry drove farther inland to secure the perimeter. As they probed through the woods near the river, they encountered Indians attached to Lévis's command. Both sides took heavy casualties and withdrew.
Three days after the landing on the Beauport shore, Monckton's guns on Point Lévis were ready to open fire on the lower town. Mortars arched their rounds high over the river, dropping them with devastating effect. Houses, shops, and even Our Lady of Victories church were crushed under the weight of falling metal. Because of distance and height, British guns could not so easily target the upper town, though it too suffered greatly.
Wolfe had secured three positions: lie d'Orleans, Point Lévis, and Montmorency. Although he held the initiative, he had put his army at risk. In the face of a larger enemy force, Wolfe had divided his troops into three weaker divisions, separated from each other by the river. His plan was to hold the enemy on his left (Point Lévis) and center (lie d'Orleans) and strike on his right (Beauport). His entire tactical plan depended upon Saunders controlling the river. Had Montcalm been a bolder commander, he might have ordered a quick strike across the Montmorency to hit the British before they had a chance to secure their positions. As it was, Montcalm preferred to remain where he was "intrenched up to the chin" to wait out the British, hoping that the harsh Canadian winter eventually would drive the enemy away.39
The siege wore on. Cannon and mortars traded fire across the river, but the British got the better of the exchanges, and each day the piles of rubble in Quebec grew larger. On the night of July 18 the Sutherland and Squirrel passed under the city and moved upstream. Three days later Wolfe went aboard Sutherland to inquire about the difficulty of the passage. It had, reported Sutherland's captain, not been hard.40 On the twenty-seventh the French made another try at the fleet with fireships. After fending them off, Wolfe wrote to Montcalm, "If you presume to send down any more fire-rafts, they shall be made fast to the two transports in which the Canadian prisoners are confined in order that they may perish by your own base invention."41
As the siege wore on, Wolfe showed increasing signs of strain. He was often confined by his painful maladies to his headquarters. Communications with his senior officers became difficult, and they grew uncertain about their commander's intentions.42
Finally, Wolfe decided to launch a frontal assault at the place where the French were strongest: the Beauport shore. In late July he presented his plan to Monckton, Townshend, and Murray. None of them favored the scheme, but Wolfe was fixed on his idea.
About a mile upstream toward Quebec from the Montmorency, Montcalm had constructed a strong point named for Chevalier James Johnstone, a Scot Jacobite serving the French. The Johnstone Redoubt stood between the river and the main French position, which ran along the crest of a rise two hundred yards to its rear. Wolfe later explained his plan to Pitt: "I proposed to make myself Master of a detach'd Redoubt near to the Water's Edge, and whose situation appear'd to be out of Musquet Shot of the Intrenchment upon the Hill: If the Enemy supported this detach'd piece, it would necessarily bring on an Engagement, what we most wish'd for; And if not, I should have it in my Power to examine their Situation, so as to be able to determine where we could best attack them."43 Once he had enticed the French off the high ground and toward the flats, Brigadiers Townshend and Murray would ford the Montmorency and hammer them on their left. Wolfe chose his grenadiers—thirteen companies numbering nearly one thousand men, the cream of his command—to lead the amphibious assault. At high water Saunders deliberately ran two of his armed transports onto the shore in order to get their guns within range of the redoubt. At the same time detachments of light infantry and rangers from Townshend's and Murray's camp marched inland along the Montmorency to feign a crossing and draw French defenders in that direction. Before dawn on the thirty-first, sailors from Saunders's ships beached dozens of flat-bottomed boats along the shore of the lie d'Orleans and Point Lévis. By midmorning the boats were pulling for the Beauport shore. Captain John Knox described the scene.
Eleven o'clock.—Two armed transport-cats, drawing little water, worked over, and grounded a-breast of the Point de Lest, westward of the fall of Montmorency. A smart cannonading ensued.
Twelve o 'clock—Weather extremely hot. The enemy throw shells at the troops who are in their boats half channel over.
Four o 'clock—The Centurion, and the two armed cats, renewed a very brisk fire on the enemy's detached works.
Five o'clock—Very gloomy weather; some of the boats, in attempting to land, struck upon some ledges.
Half past five o'clock—The first division of the troops, consisting of all the grenadiers of the army... landed at Point de Lest.44
For nearly the entire day Lévis had watched calmly. He ordered reinforcements to march parallel to the Montmorency to repel any attempt by the British to ford the stream and come at him from that direction. Additional militia took positions on the rise, looking down on the British drifting offshore.
Once ashore, the grenadiers formed up and advanced on the redoubt. It was empty: the French had flown up the hill and joined their comrades behind the entrenchments. In the meantime the diversionary feint by rangers and light infantry up the Montmorency had been abandoned, and the men were back in camp. Having seen no action for more than a month, and after spending an afternoon steaming in the sun, the grenadiers were tired, angry, and agitated. They were determined to attack the enemy on the rise. When the drummers began to beat "The Grenadiers March," emotion overcame sense, and without forming up properly or waiting for orders one thousand men advanced in a "disorderly" and "strange" manner."45
Many of the French soldiers staring down at the red mass coming at them were veterans of Ticonderoga, where they had seen a similar brave but foolhardy British assault. From their entrenchments the Frenchmen poured withering fire down on the grenadiers, who despite heavy losses continued to charge. They might even have taken the heights had the late afternoon sky not opened up with a thunderstorm. The downpour silenced the muskets and turned the grassy slope into a slippery, treacherous trap. Unable to see the enemy through the driving rain or fire their drenched weapons, the grenadiers slid back down the slope and retreated across the mud flats toward the Montmorency and the covering fire of Townshend's and Murray's brigades. In great disorder and confusion the dispirited men waded across the river and fell exhausted. It was a shocking debacle brought about by a lack of intelligence compounded by poor command and control. Nearly half of the grenadier force was killed or wounded. Vaudreuil proclaimed, "I have no more anxiety about Quebec."46
Wolfe was growing increasingly worried. The dread of defeat consumed him. On August 31, 1759 he wrote to his mother that he feared coming home in failure to be exposed to an ignorant populace. He would, he claimed, resign at the first opportunity.47 In rapid fire he issued orders and then as quickly canceled them. Montcalm, it seemed, had beaten him.
The French would not come out from their walls and entrenchments. If he could not tease them out, Wolfe thought he might starve them into submission. He ordered Saunders to send additional ships upriver to cut Quebec's water communications. On August 4 Wolfe ordered "Brigadier Murray, with a strong detachment... to proceed on board of Admiral Holmes's division to make a diversion above the town, with a view to divide the enemy's attention." 48 Murray sailed past the Chaudiere River and swept up the shoreline
, burning the villages of St. Nicholas, St. Antoine, and St. Croix on the south side. On the eighth he attacked Pointe aux Trembles on the north side but was repulsed. Twelve miles farther upstream he landed at Deschambault, where he destroyed a large stock of supplies. Murray's raid forced Montcalm to detach Bougainville with a flying column upriver to prevent the British from enveloping his position. Having never planned a permanent lodgment, Murray withdrew his forces and returned to the main camp, his mission a success.
In addition to spoils, Murray returned with welcome news. He had intercepted French dispatches, intended for Montcalm, announcing the fall of Niagara to a force under John Prideaux and William Johnson.
In June, coincident with Wolfe's advance up the St. Lawrence, Prideaux and Johnson left Albany with an army of 3,300 men. They followed the usual route west: up the Mohawk and via portages to Oswego. Along the way they dropped off about 1,300 men at various forts and land carries to protect the supply line. From Oswego, the remaining men traveled by small boats along the south coast of Lake Ontario to the Niagara peninsula. They encountered no opposition, and by July 7 they were within sight of the fort.
On the ninth an English drummer approached the walls of the fort and beat the call to parley. Captain François Pouchot, the fort's commander, ordered the main gate opened and the English emissary, Lieutenant Walter Rutherford, entered to present General Prideaux's compliments and a summons to surrender. All the pleasantries were observed. Pouchot replied to the lieutenant that "before he became acquainted with them [the English], he should at least assuredly gain their esteem."49
Montcalm had in fact anticipated the loss of Niagara. In April, when he had sent Pouchot to command the fort, he told him that if the British arrived he should do no more than put up a good defense. "If Niagara is besieged it will be taken. We must look forward to the siege, but it is not necessary to sacrifice too large a garrison."50
True to his word, Pouchot held out for nearly a month. The siege could have been scripted by Vauban himself. Trenches were dug, approaches were made, while cannon and mortars pummeled the walls. On the twenty-first the British suffered a serious loss when a mortar exploded in one of the trenches, killing Prideaux. An even more serious blow fell on the French three days later when an Indian-British force commanded by Johnson ambushed a relief force coming up from the Ohio. With his men exhausted, his fort in shambles, and no relief in sight, Pouchot surrendered on the twenty-sixth. His fierce resistance did indeed gain the "esteem" of his opponents.
Niagara's surrender coincided with Amherst's slow march northward. In his usual cautious manner the general edged toward Ticonderoga. The French made a show of defense, but their real plan was to abandon the fort. Amherst's slow approach left Bourlamaque, Ticonderoga's commander, with ample time to evacuate his troops. While the main force left without notice, a detachment of engineers stayed behind to set demolition charges. Before Amherst's advance party reached the gates, the fort went up in a thunderous roar. Amherst made camp near the rubble.
A few days later Bourlamaque repeated his tactic at Crown Point, reducing it too to a heap of ashes and broken stone. Although there were still several weeks of good campaigning weather left, Amherst decided to consolidate his positions at Ticonderoga and Crown Point and await the spring for a move north. Although the fall of Niagara, Ticonderoga, and Crown Point were important, these victories did little to assist Wolfe. Neither Amherst nor Johnson would march to his aid in 1759.
Montcalm knew that the fall of Niagara and Ticonderoga left Montreal exposed from two directions. On Champlain all that stood between Amherst and the St. Lawrence was a force of less than three thousand men commanded by Bourlamaque at lie aux-Noix. To the west the French position was even more exposed: Only Luc La Corne with a handful of militia and Troupes de la Marine at the mission of La Presentation (Fort Lévis) remained on the St. Lawrence between the British and Montreal. On both fronts the British tide was rising. On August 9 Montcalm sent Lévis to organize Montreal's defense. British pressure had taken his two best generals from him.
(10)
The Fall of Quebec
Wolfe had dug a grave for his army, but Montcalm
marched his own army into it.
The Marquis de Montcalm is at the head of a great
number of bad soldiers and I am at the head of
a small number of good ones.
—Wolfe to Henrietta Wolfe, August 31, 1759
Thus far Montcalm's defense of Quebec had been prudent. The Beauport line held as planned, and Bougainville's flying column had prevented the British from making a secure lodgment upriver. Wisely, the marquis had steadfastly refused to abandon his entrenchments and expose his army to Wolfe. Although he had the advantage of greater numbers, Montcalm feared that his Canadians, Indians, and even the Troupes de la Marine, the majority of his force, would crumble if he sent them to face Wolfe's disciplined regulars.1 Better, thought Montcalm, to hunker down behind the walls and entrenchments, and let the enemy impale themselves on his defenses. The carnage on the muddy slopes near the Montmorency confirmed the soundness of his plan. What Montcalm could not defend against was Saunders. Montcalm's batteries had proven noticeably ineffective in preventing the admiral's ships from enjoying virtually free rein on the river. Aside from the armed transports he deliberately ran aground at Beauport, Saunders had not lost a single ship; nor had he suffered any significant damage from enemy shot. Montcalm's fireships had turned out to be little more than a feckless display of pyrotechnics.2
Despite the impressive performance of Saunders, Wolfe was plagued by frustration, stress, and anxiety. The young general knew that Amherst's advance had ground to a halt at the southern end of Lake Champlain, and that by early October the cold Canadian weather would begin to sweep in and endanger his presence in the St. Lawrence. Adding to his frustration was the fact that his best troops—the grenadiers—had failed him miserably. Their reckless charge at the Montmorency was a worrisome sign of collapsing discipline. The day after the bloody repulse Wolfe issued a stinging rebuke, calling the grenadiers' behavior "impetuous, irregular, and unsoldier like."3 Furthermore, his brigadiers, particularly Townshend, were at officer's mess and in private conversation taking every opportunity to snipe at Wolfe. Townshend's verbal jabs, however, were nothing compared to the caricatures he drew of the general and circulated for amusement in the camp.
Sieges are tiresome and boring, and Quebec was no exception. The army was restless, and the sick list was growing as the usual "fluxes and fevers" meandered through the camp. All the time, Wolfe's artillery and Saunders's broadsides belched iron "warmly on the town." On August 9 a hot shot dropped into the lower town, turning the neighborhood into an inferno. Still, the French endured, and they showed little sign of weakening. Outside the city Indians and Canadians continued to harass Wolfe's pickets, scalping men foolish enough to wander too far from camp. Wolfe and Saunders continued to probe at the French. While the guns of the Royal Navy played on the shore and the city, Wolfe attempted to confuse his foe by marching men along the opposite bank to feign crossings. In another ploy he dispatched landing craft toward the Beauport shore to draw the enemy in that direction.
In August Wolfe turned his attention away from the environs of Quebec and looked downriver, where he reverted to a cruel form of war reminiscent of his campaigns in the Scottish Highlands and along the Gaspe shore. Putting Brigadier Monckton, who four years before had cleared the Acadians out of Nova Scotia, in command of the operation, he hit at the habitants. On August 4 Monckton burned the village of Baie St. Paul. Over the next several days nearly twenty other small parishes were torched and plundered. Household goods, food, cattle, and "a library said to be the property of a priest" were hauled away. At the village of St. Anne a priest and his parishioners "fortified themselves in a house." Light infantry and artillery were sent "to reduce them." The detachment arrived and "laid an ambuscade in the skirts of the wood near to [the] fortified house, and as soon as the field-piece
was brought up, and began to play, [the priest], with his men, sallied out, when falling in to the ambush, thirty of them, with their leader, were surrounded, killed, and scalped."4
The earlier attacks upriver had had a strategic purpose, threatening Montcalm's supply line from Montreal and forcing him to divert forces from the defense of Quebec. The pillaging of settlements downriver had no purpose other than punishment and terror. Although he lamented the sad fate of the locals, Montcalm had no intention of marching to their defense. Indeed, he took encouragement from Wolfe's savagery, viewing it as the work of a desperate commander, who having been bloodied at Montmorency shied away "from any sort of landing unless [he found] absolutely no resistance." As Montcalm watched the summer days grow shorter and the evenings turn cooler, he noted in his journal that his enemy's only remaining hope was "a bold stroke, a thunderbolt."5
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