Empires at War

by Jr. , William M. Fowler

  On the morning of August 19 Captain Hervey Smith, the general's aide-de-camp, emerged from headquarters to announce that the general "could not rise."6 Wolfe's health had grown worse. From his bed at headquarters he wrote to Saunders that he was "ruined." Morale plummeted, and rumors swept the camp that the general was preparing to retreat.7

  Having recovered somewhat, Wolfe wrote to his brigadiers on August 258, outlining three tactical options—all centering on Beauport. His first plan argued for a night march inland along the Montmorency to a ford eight or nine miles inland. The army would then cross the ford and sweep down behind the French. To succeed, this plan required complete surprise—an impossibility. Troops were massed on both sides of the Mont­morency, and Canadian and Indian scouts were posted everywhere. The stirring of even a single British soldier wmdd sound the alarm. A second plan, only slightly less imaginative, called for a night assault up the same hill from which the grenadiers had been driven with devastating losses nearly a month before. Wolfe's third option was simple: "All the chosen troops . . . attack at Beauport at low water." Inserted in all three plans was the injunction that "the General thinks the country should be ruined and destroyed."8

  Monckton, Townshend, and Murray read Wolfe's plans and replied the next day. Beauport, in their view, was a British graveyard. A month before, the French had repelled a major attack there, and in the interim they had strengthened their entrenchments. Attacking the French at their strongest point made little sense. Instead, the brigadiers recommended abandoning Beauport and bringing "the troops to the south shore [opposite Quebec] and to carry operations above the town." The brigadiers urged Wolfe to cross the St. Lawrence at a place upriver where he could drive a powerful wedge between Montcalm and his supply depots. If, Townshend, Monck­ton, and Murray declared unanimously, "we establish ourselves on the north shore [between Quebec and Montreal] Montcalm must fight us on our own terms . . . . If he gives battle and we defeat him, Quebec, and probably all of Canada, will be our own, which is beyond any advantage we can expect by the Beauport side."9

  Wolfe had little choice but to abandon his Beauport plans, explaining to Saunders, "The generals seem to think alike as to operations; I therefore join with them, and perhaps we may find some opportunity to strike a blow."10 He ordered the troops remaining at Beauport to withdraw. As the men boarded the boats ferrying them back to camps on the lie d'Orleans and Point Lévis, a despondent Wolfe poured out his frustration to his mother.

  No personal evils, worse than defeats and disappointments, have fallen upon me. The enemy puts nothing to risk, and I can't in conscience, put the whole army to risk. My antagonist has wisely shut himself up in inaccessible intrenchments, so that I can't get at him without spilling a torrent of blood, and that perhaps to little purpose. 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, that wish for nothing so much as to fight him; but the wary old fellow avoids an action doubtful of the behaviour of his army.11

  Even at the last minute Wolfe hoped that the sight of his troops marching to the boats might draw Montcalm into the open for a fight, but the "wary old fellow" refused to budge. By September 3 all the troops had been withdrawn. Three months of effort had cost Wolfe nearly nine hundred men killed, wounded, or missing. His remaining force, including marines, numbered approximately 8,500 men. Provisions were running short, sick lists were growing, and the troops, officers included, mumbled about going home.

  * * *

  Life was also stressed within the French lines. Montcalm had suffered only a fraction of the British casualties and his regulars and the Troupes de la Marine stood firm, but they represented less than half of his force. The Canadian militia were edgy and weary from the siege and were anxious to get home for the harvest. The few Native American allies present were also eager to leave.

  Wolfe's greatest advantage remained his naval superiority. Saunders's ships held complete control of the river and passed easily under the guns of Quebec. At the same time Murray's assaults upstream demonstrated that amphibious attacks were possible.12 By the time his last boats pulled away from the mudflats of the Beauport shore, Wolfe had made up his mind. In line with the recommendations of his brigadiers, he laid plans to launch a major attack behind the enemy to cut his supply lines and force him to battle. Since Saunders had taken control of the river, an upstream landing had been possible, but Wolfe had shied away from it. The most accessible landing sites were several miles upriver. Landing so far from Quebec posed serious risks: His troops would be exposed to counterattack from Bougainville, and at the same time they would be at least a full day's march from Quebec, thus allowing Montcalm sufficient time to consolidate his positions. But since Wolfe had failed on every other avenue of attack, he decided that an upriver approach would have to be made. However, to succeed, the landing would have to be close to the city and done in secret.

  Given the lateness of the season, Montcalm assumed that Wolfe would let loose his men to sack the countryside, and then withdraw downriver to winter quarters in Halifax. Under those circumstances he ought to have considered tightening his lines by withdrawing even closer to the city, but he opted instead to maintain his long left flank along the Beauport shore. At the same time he stretched his lines thinner by sending reinforcements to Bougainville.13 As a result, Bougainville's three thousand troops, mostly regulars, were drawn beyond quick supporting distance from Quebec. Wolfe's mobility by water forced Montcalm to cover a twenty-mile front. Wolfe knew that somewhere along this line there had to be a place to land.

  Wolfe's personal knowledge of the terrain surrounding Quebec was fragmentary. He had listened carefully to Mackellar, read the intelligence reports, and scrutinized maps. None of this satisfied him. He decided on a personal reconnaissance. Throwing off his elaborate uniform so that the French would not recognize him, the general rode for several days with his officers along the river, looking for potential landing places on the opposite shore. He also went aboard the sloop of war Hunter and sailed the river to examine the possibilities more closely.14 After Rochefort and Louis­bourg, this was Wolfe's third amphibious challenge. He had no illusions about the huge difficulties awaiting him.

  Wolfe moved his headquarters on board Sutherland, anchored upriver from Quebec. From the ship he issued orders directing regiments to assemble at Gorham's Post near where Sutherland lay. At the general's direction, other troops left camp and went aboard transports, which Wolfe ordered to move along the river to feign landings and confuse the enemy. For the embarked soldiers, it was a miserable business. Crammed below decks in the steamy weather of early September, the men sickened quickly and had to be rotated ashore to recover. Wolfe himself fell ill again, and his officers, kept in the dark, gossiped that he was too sick to command the grand enterprise.

  On September 9 Wolfe made another reconnaissance. Based upon what he saw on this excursion, he decided to land at L'Anse le Foulon, a small cove tucked away under high bluffs about a mile and a half upriver from the city.15 The cove was one of the few places where the tidal shore was firm and wide enough for troops to land safely. Most important, a decent path led up from the river's edge to the Plains of Abraham, and although Mont­calm had posted a guard at the top, Wolfe was confident that his men could move quickly enough to surprise and overwhelm the French sentries. The Plains were the perfect stage for the set-piece battle Wolfe yearned to have with Montcalm. If he could marshal his ranks on the Plains, he believed, Montcalm would come out and fight. Surprise and speed would be his keys to victory.

  On the tenth Wolfe took Monckton, to whom he had given command of the first wave ashore, Holmes, who was commanding the supporting naval squadron, and Captain James Chads, the naval officer in charge of the landing craft, down to Gorham's Post to view the landing place. After pointing out the cove, he told them that he planned to land on the thirteenth at day-break. Chads objected that the tide would not be favorable at that hour, and he asked if they could mo
ve earlier. Wolfe replied that the risks of a night attack outweighed the problems of an unfavorable tide.

  The following day Wolfe issued general orders detailing the embarkation. The men were to go to their boats at nine o'clock the next evening. They were to carry "Arms, Ammunition and two days provisions."16 Towns­hend and Murray, neither of whom Wolfe had thus far taken into his confidence, were angry. They managed to draw Monckton, who did know the plan, into collectively writing a peremptory note to their commander. They complained that they were not "sufficiently informed" of the plans for the "execution of the descent." The "public orders" were vague, and they did not view it as appropriate that they should have to depend upon a naval officer (Chads) to instruct them. To avoid "any mistakes," they requested "distinct orders."17 Wolfe shot back to Monckton, reminding him of what he already knew. So that there could be no mistake, Wolfe told Monckton: "It is my duty to attack the French Army. To the best of my knowledge and abilities I have fixed upon that spot where we can act with the most force and are most likely to succeed. If I am mistaken I am sorry for it and must be answerable to his Majesty and then the public for the consequences."18 Wolfe was less courteous to Townshend. He informed him curtly that he should follow Monckton ashore, where he was to give his "best assistance" "to beat the French Army."19

  About midnight a signalman hoisted a single lantern into Sutherland's maintop. Across the water lookouts watching from the waiting barges quietly passed the word. Silently, oarsmen dipped their sweeps into the river, and soon a flotilla of boats bearing sixteen hundred troops emerged from the lee of the transports and slipped into the stream. The barges took position between Sutherland and the south shore, about eight and a half miles above the proposed landing site. There they held while Wolfe joined them. By 2 a.m. the tide was ebbing sufficiently to carry them quickly downriver.20Sutherland hoisted two lights, and the barges cast off, heading downstream. The weather was fine and the moon in its last quarter. In the lead were eight barges carrying the light infantry under the command of Lieutenant Colonel William Howe, brother of George Howe, the fallen hero of Ticonderoga.21 In the first boat were twenty-four men commanded by Captain William DeLaune, an officer with whom Wolfe had served at Louisbourg. DeLaune's orders were to hit the beach quickly, find the path up the bluff, and strike for the top.

  As Wolfe's flotilla floated down toward L'Anse le Foulon, Montcalm was on the other side of the city inspecting defenses along the St. Charles River. The marquis understood the threat from upriver, but he still held that Beauport was the most likely point of attack. He felt confirmed in his opinion during the night when he heard Saunders's guns playing along the shore, and saw small boats milling about the fleet as if preparing to land soldiers. Saunders's movements were a deliberate deception.

  In midstream Wolfe's boats passed close by the sloop Hunter. Its commander informed the general that a French deserter had told them that provision boats from Montreal were expected at any moment. As the barges edged closer to shore, a sentry heard noise and called, "Qui vive?" A French-speaking officer in the lead boat called back, "La France." "A quel regiment?" The Englishman called back, "De La Reine." As they approached the landing site, another sentry challenged. Captain Donald MacDonald of the Seventy-eighth Regiment called back in French, "Provision boats. Don't make such bloody noise. The English will hear us."22

  The faint glow of daybreak came over the river at 4 a.m. as the first boats grounded. Howe ordered three companies of light infantry up the slope in front of him. The French-speaking Captain MacDonald led the first company up. For a second time that morning he saved the attack: "As soon as he [MacDonald] and his men gained the height, he was challenged by a centry, and with great presence of mind, from his knowledge of the French service, answered him according to their manner."23

  MacDonald's quick thinking bought the British enough time to bring more troops up the slope. The officer in command of the French guard, upon whom rested the fate of Quebec, was Louis Du Pont Duchambon de Vergor, who had surrendered Fort Beausejour to Monckton in 1755. He was, according to one historian, "unfit for military command," and in the view of a contemporary "the most dull witted fellow I have ever met."24 When Vergor's men realized that they had been deceived, they belatedly sought to defend their post. In a sharp exchange of musketry Vergor was hit in the right leg and hand. As he fell, most of his men fled for Quebec. Light infantry quickly mopped up the rest of the scattered French and secured a defensive perimeter. Soon hundreds more redcoats swarmed over the top and formed up in ranks. By 6 a.m. the tide had slacked sufficiently that Wolfe could ferry additional troops across the river.

  The Plains of Abraham

  Downriver Montcalm was in his Beauport headquarters monitoring Saunders's movements on the river. Shortly after dawn a breathless Canadian messenger arrived at headquarters with the news. Within the hour French battalions were double-timing toward the Plains of Abraham, led by a brigade of militia and Troupes de la Marine.

  By 8 a.m. Wolfe had brought his entire force to the top of the bluff. He had also managed to haul up two brass fieldpieces. It was an extraordinary accomplishment. The regiments wheeled onto the Plains of Abraham and formed up on an axis facing the city. The British line stretched for about a half mile. Wolfe's officers and NCOs stood to the front and barked orders at the men to dress ranks and fix bayonets. On the left near the road Canadian militia and Indians managed to come close enough to fire into the British ranks. Townshend, to whom Wolfe had given command of the left, sent skirmishes to clear away the enemy.

  By 9 a.m. the Beauport regiments arrived. Montcalm took personal command and faced an immediate dilemma. The British were entrenching in front of him. If he waited too long, the enemy would have time enough to prepare positions that would make an assault against them a costly and probably futile venture. He had to attack immediately or else withdraw. The latter was impossible as his troops were still moving into position and any rearward movement would confuse them and panic the militia. While he wrestled with his options, Montcalm must have considered the Bougainville factor—a "flying camp" of three thousand men were only a few miles away and were undoubtedly on the march, though how soon they would arrive was unclear. For weeks Montcalm's favorite dinner companion had been marching up and down the river following the tide and the British. Not until 9 a.m., however, more than four hours after the British had come safely ashore, did Bougainville hear the news of their landing. He rallied his troops and set out on the road toward Quebec.

  Wolfe had his dilemmas as well. He needed to bring the French to action soon, for Saunders and Holmes had made it clear that to avoid the perils of winter, they would depart by the end of the month. Now that Wolfe had gambled and reached the Plains, he was caught between two enemy forces: Bougainville and Montcalm. He could only win if he took them on one at a time.

  In the end Montcalm acted first: He ordered an attack.

  After more than two centuries of debate, the marquis's fateful decision to advance remains controversial. We can never know for certain what the general thought as he rode out through the St. Louis gate. Perhaps the old cavalryman was overwhelmed with romantic thoughts of glory and victory, or he may have been reconciled to the inevitability of battle and defeat. Since Montcalm had no faith in the ability of his Canadian or Indian allies to stand and volley against British regulars, he placed all his reliance on his own regular troops.

  By 10 a.m. Montcalm had organized his formation. On the right he positioned the Quebec and Montreal militias standing close to the St. Foy road. To their left stood the Troupes de la Terre in order: La Sarre, Languedoc, Beam, Guyenne, and Royal Roussillon. On the far left the Montreal and Trois-Rivieres militia held ground. Out on the distant flanks an undetermined number of Indians hovered. Montcalm did enjoy the advantage of superior artillery and a slightly larger number of troops. To Wolfe's two field guns, he answered with four.

  Wolfe, concerned that the enemy might try to flank him, drew his force into a three-s
ided formation. Six regiments stood to the front, facing the enemy, while strong detachments deployed to either side, facing out. The Louisbourg grenadiers held the right, and two battalions from the Royal Americans held the left rear flank. Slightly more than five battalions held the center. A third battalion of Royal Americans stayed to guard the path up from the river, and the rough equivalent of two battalions were held in reserve. Wolfe took his post on the right with the grenadiers. Monckton and Murray were to his left, and Townshend commanded the left flank and reserve. Wolfe's two brass guns faced the French on either end of his line, as he waited for Montcalm to make the first move.

  Louis-Antoine de Bougainville

  While Bougainville was hurrying to his commander's side, Montcalm rode to the front of the French line. Years later Joseph Trahan, a Canadian militiaman, remembered the scene. The marquis "was riding . . . a black horse in front of our lines, bearing his sword high in the air." The troops cheered and moved forward, but they were not in good order. Instead of a straight and steady line, some men advanced headlong too quickly, while others faltered and fell behind. When the French artillery began to belch canister, Wolfe ordered his men to fall on the ground. All the time the British held their fire. As the enemy advanced, Wolfe might well have remembered that day fourteen years before when he watched the rebellious Highlanders surge forward at Culloden. What he said about the Scots then applied to the French now: They came "with more fury than prudence."25