by Oliver North
To this, Major Meigs added, “If you wish, Colonel, I will have Captain Dearborn put a good sergeant from his company in charge of securing the lad and bringing him with us when we cross the river. It won’t be hard to find volunteers for ‘indoor duty’ in this weather.”
At this, Colonel Arnold stood and said, “Thank you, gentlemen, we have a solution. I am most grateful to all of you. Let us pray for better weather tomorrow. Dr. Senter, please examine our prisoner, ensure he is healthy, make the appropriate entries in your medical journal, and hope he stays that way.”
As we prepared to leave, Captain Morgan said to Maj. Febiger, “Hans, if you don’t mind, after you move our prisoner, I will remain in the room across the hall next to the fireplace long enough to dry the front of my clothing so it will be pleased to accompany the rear of my clothing before rejoining my comrades in my tent.”
When our captain returned to our tent an hour later his clothing was dry, his rifle was clean, and his piece of marmalade-covered toast was right where he left it.
Pointe Lévis, Canada
Sunday, November 12th, 1775
Unfortunately, the weather this morning is, if anything, worse than it was yesterday. But, if the wind, snow, and white caps on the river ever abate, our prospects for getting across the St. Lawrence were enhanced this afternoon just after sunset when Natanis and his brother Sabatis delivered two more dugouts, and their braves brought to our cove three large birch-bark canoes and fifteen paddles. We now have forty-five vessels and at least four paddles for each.
The thirty-seven “volunteer” Indians Natanis and Sabatis recruited to serve as paddlers and guides are now encamped inside our perimeter near the trading post.
At 3:00 p.m. Colonel Arnold called for another commander’s meeting. This one was shorter and less dramatic than yesterday’s. The primary focus is on reconciling the rosters of each unit and ensuring we have full accountability for all our troops.
The rosters show we now have 597 of our original Expedition Force here, including Sgt. Grier’s wife, Eliza, and the widow, Jemima Warner, whose husband perished in the wilderness. To this total we have added the Indians, and twenty-three French Canadians who have been distributed among the musket companies.
Doctor Senter has deemed only thirty-one of our number to be unfit for duty for various causes: injury, frostbite, dysentery, fever, vomiting, and “palsy.” And Colonel Arnold has also decided to leave a sixty-man company here as a Rear Guard in case we need to retreat back across the river.
At the conclusion of the meeting, Colonel Arnold said, “Our local friends Natanis and Mr. Halsted tell me this storm will blow itself out by mid-morning. So, Major Febiger, how many will we be taking across the river with us tomorrow night?”
“Five hundred and sixty-six brave souls and one prisoner of war, sir.”
Pointe Lévis, Canada
Monday, November 13th, 1775
Shortly after dawn this morning it was apparent the weather forecast was spot-on. The sky is clearing. The wind has dropped. While it is still below freezing, it is noticeably warmer and there are no whitecaps on the river. Best of all, Mr. Halsted and his local bakers worked all night to produce 600 new loaves of bread.
At 11:00 a.m., Colonel Arnold summoned his commanders to meet at his HQ at noon. When all were seated he entered with Mr. Eleazer Oswald and Major Febiger and opened with: “This is our final Council of War on this side of the St. Lawrence River. Tonight, we are going across to liberate the City of Quebec from their British oppressors.
“Sunset tonight is at 4:03. By 5:30 it will be dark. The tide will be rising by 10:00 and a waning, slightly larger than half-moon, will start rising at about the same time. By 6:00 p.m. you need to have your units aligned in the sequence shown on the chart Major Febiger has prepared.
“Our first wave needs to be underway, heading upriver from the cove no later than 9:00 p.m. to get across before the British patrol boats start upriver from the Lower Town wharf. Major Febiger has a chart showing the sequence and timing for moving each division to the cove.
“I will be in the lead canoe, the large dugout with Captain Morgan, Natanis, Mr. Halsted, Ensign Newman, and Corporal Sullivan. The canoes immediately behind us will bring the rest of the Riflemen, then our Indian friends, and then the musket companies in subsequent waves. If all goes according to plan, we should have Patriots across to Wolfe’s Cove and atop the Heights4 before dawn.”
By now the excitement in the room was palpable. Colonel Arnold, sensing his commanders are anxious to commence final preparations with their troops, raised his voice and said, “Cease fire on the chatter! Four important points to pass on to your men!
“First, everyone, including officers, must have a piece of white cloth on the back of their hat, hood, cape, or collar with the words ‘Liberty or Death’ on it.
“Second, do not load the last canoe in your wave. I want the last canoe in each wave to be available for rescue.
“Third, make sure everyone boarding has his firearm loaded—but not cocked!
“Fourth, remind your men if they are challenged by a British patrol boat, do not fire on them unless they have their swivel gun ready to fire on you or have already engaged your canoe.
“Are there any questions?”
This time Captain Hanchett had the good sense to stand and speak respectfully, “Sir, I do not see my company on Major Febiger’s chart. Which wave are we in?”
Colonel Arnold replied, “For tonight, Captain Hanchett, your company will stay here to serve as our Rear Guard.”
Our first wave—with 203 aboard—was loaded in the first forty-four canoes by 8:30 p.m. At precisely 9:00, on Colonel Arnold’s whispered command, “Let’s go!” the four strong Indians—two in the bow and two in the stern, silently pulled out of the cove and into the river. As predicted, it is near slack tide and there is almost no noticeable current. Behind us, another dugout silently follows in our wake.
We were better than half way across without incident when one of the old birch bark canoes broke in two, dumping Lieutenant Steele and four Riflemen into the icy water. The canoes behind them quickly picked them and their gear up one at a time—somehow without tipping over. But when the indomitable Lieutenant started climbing over the stern of the canoe, there was a loud sound of wood cracking. Instead of risking another breakup, he whispered, “I’ll just hang on—keep going.” And they did.
In little more than an hour from the time we departed Pointe Lévis, our first wave was all ashore and headed, single-file, up the same steep trail General Wolfe scaled with more than 4,000 British troops sixteen years ago—in the summer.
Once on top, Captain Morgan dispatched Lt. Heth, originally of Captain Stephenson’s Virginia Rifle Company, and six Riflemen on a reconnaissance toward the wall, less than five hundred yards away.
Our second wave arrived at midnight without incident but with fewer canoes because Major Bigelow, responsible for loading at Pointe Lévis, began eliminating any vessels deemed to be unsafe. Still, three of the canoes in this wave leaked so badly they nearly foundered, soaking all eighteen men aboard and losing some muskets.
The third wave came in at 3:15 a.m.—but with only thirty-one canoes. As the troops disembarked and began scrambling up the hill, some of those from the second wave who were very wet started a fire in a nearby shed to warm up before the climb.
Lt. Humphrey rushed over and had them put it out but it was too late. Less than two minutes after our last canoe pushed off for the return trip to Pointe Lévis, a British cutter appeared out of the darkness, apparently so intent on investigating the light onshore they took no notice our dugout passing them within fifty yards of their port side.
The moon is now high enough—and they are close enough—there are a half-dozen of us with rifles and muskets in our hands watching. As the boat rows closer to us, a sailor removes a canvas from a sw
ivel gun mounted on the bow of the longboat. He extracts a cork muzzle plug and we can see a glowing punk in the gunner’s left hand. He blows on it before sticking it down the touchhole. But an instant before he can do so, we hear Colonel Arnold’s voice scream, “Fire!”
The effect is as intended, except all four of the muskets fail to fire—likely because the powder in their flash pans is wet. The only weapons that do fire are Lieutenant Humphrey’s and my rifles. The gunner pitches backward into the boat, the swivel gun’s muzzle swings down into the water as the six oarsmen furiously row backward. A dozen or so other rifles and muskets open fire and two more sailors appear to be hit before the boat disappears into the mist.
Lt. Humphrey and I head immediately to the top of the cliff and arrive at Captain Morgan’s position just as Lieutenant Heth’s little patrol returns from exploring the city’s western wall and Lt. Heth commences a hasty debrief. “We didn’t see a single sentry anywhere outside the wall or on it. We were about 100 feet from St. John’s gate when the shooting began.
“Based on what Mr. Halsted told us, we expected to hear church bells ringing and drummers waking the militia to their duty stations. But there was nothing. No watchmen. No sentinels. Then, maybe a minute later, St. John’s gate opened and a single man walked out, took a leak against the wall, walked back inside, and closed the gate like it was his bedroom door.”
“Could you hear if he barred the gate after he went back inside?” asked Captain Morgan.
“No, sir,” Heth replied. “By that time we were just glad fifty dragoons hadn’t ridden out to cut us down with their sabres instead of one guy looking for a place to pee.”
Afterward, there were many who claimed the gate was not locked or blocked. That’s not what any of us knew at the time and none of those who made those assertions were there.
What we did know at the time was we had 512 tough, resilient armed men just outside the west wall of an enemy-held city—and thus far, no indication anyone inside seemed to be aware of our presence.
After listening to Lt. Heth’s report, Captain Morgan went a few yards where Colonel Arnold was telling Lieutenant Colonel Greene and Major Meigs where to position sentries. Nearby were Major Febiger, Messer’s Oswald and Halsted, Chaplain Spring, and Dr. Senter. They all heard my captain say, “Sir, we still have nearly three hours until sunrise.5 My Riflemen have six scaling ladders with us. Let me take them and our Indians over the wall. We will open the gates for the rest of our Patriots to pour in, and the city will be yours before breakfast.”
I was surprised to hear the Colonel’s whispered response: “Let me see or hear what our Comrades in Arms think.” With that, Colonel Arnold asked all around him, “Who is in favor of Captain Morgan’s plan to try and take the city tonight?”
Captain Morgan—the only “Aye” in the group—not even Colonel Arnold voted in favor—shrugged and said, “Very well, sir. Where do you want our Riflemen to go and what do you want them to do?”
We learned the next day, our arrival the night before went undetected and the St. John’s Gate was open all night and manned by the one casual soldier Lt. Heth observed. Though I could tell this enraged Capt. Morgan, he spoke not a word about it.
Colonel Arnold decided to post nearly fifty Musket Company men as pickets where they can observe the walls and gates. He ordered our Riflemen to serve as the vanguard for moving the balance of the 512 rough men who made it across the river from Pointe Lévis to a place Mr. Halsted chose about a mile west of Quebec City.
The site he picked is the palatial estate of Major Henry Caldwell—commander of the British Militia—and owner of the gristmill on the other side of the river. We approached ready for the action we’d been craving only to find a few sleepy guards who meekly surrendered. Colonel Arnold made the Caldwell mansion his headquarters. The Rifle and Musket companies took up lodging in a perimeter of empty homes nearby.
West Wall of Quebec City, Canada
Tuesday, November 14th, 1775
By sunup, the British garrison was alerted to our presence and were prepared to engage an assault.
Awakened while still in Major Caldwell’s feather bed, Colonel Arnold was informed one of our advance sentries was captured by a small band of the enemy and taken into the city.
Our sentry’s capture convinced Col. Arnold the British were ready to engage in full battle Adjutant so we marched on the walls in a show of force we hoped would at least rally support from the civilian occupants. Beyond a few cheers and jeers from some gathered on the walls, nothing of consequence transpired. That is until young “gentleman volunteer” Matthais Ogden and a drummer were sent under a white flag to read the terms of the garrison’s surrender to Lt. Governor Cramahé.
Standing next to Cramahé, the garrison’s commander, Col. Allan Maclean responded with a wave of his hand which loosed a cannonball that landed close enough to Ogden to spray him and his drummer with frozen soil. Maclean was a seasoned and disciplined soldier with extensive experience in training and leading hardened troops. His experience played a significant role in what was to come for our mission. Having arrived back at Quebec after making a failed attempt to reinforce Carleton in Montreal just hours before Arnold’s force crossed the St. Lawrence, he quickly reset the city’s defense both militarily and by bringing the civilians in line.
West Wall of Quebec City, Canada
Wednesday, November 15th, 1775
To compound our troubles, an inventory of our arms and ammunition was bleak, yielding barely five rounds per man and a number of us without a musket and others not in firing condition. Captain Morgan is near the boiling point by now and takes his concerns to Col. Arnold. As is his practice, his main complaint is on our behalf. The bread we received before leaving Pointe Lévis is long gone and Colonel Arnold has again put everyone on restricted rations.
Morgan’s point for his commander was how his Rifle Company was bearing most of the load of intimidating those inside the walls and manning the pickets and patrols. When Arnold aggressively rebuffed Capt. Morgan’s complaint, I thought I would see my captain strike a superior officer for the first time. A thought of his beloved Abigail must have flashed through his mind because he turned on his heel and rushed out. The next day Col. Arnold sent word that the Riflemen’s rations were increased. With that order came his instructions for Morgan, Febiger, a small group of our Riflemen, Natanis, and Halsted to head west to reconnoiter the best and quickest route to Pointe-aux-Trembles.
West Wall of Quebec City, Canada
Saturday, November 18th, 1775
Col. Arnold received word Gen. Montgomery captured Montreal, garrisoned troops there, and was headed to Quebec with about 200 men. Perhaps more importantly, he instructed three armed schooners laden with more troops, artillery, clothing, supplies, and arms to follow him downriver.
With this news came a less encouraging report of Governor Carleton and his detachment escaping Montgomery’s attack and heading to Quebec to fortify the British stand there.
We retreated up the St. Lawrence toward Montreal, to Pointe-aux-Trembles, out of reach from Quebec to await word about the advance of the Second Army. It was a sorrowful march by beleaguered, exhausted, and freezing men now only consisting of 550 functioning soldiers out of a total of the 597 who’d survived the trek from Boston.
When we arrived in the small village of Pointe-aux-Trembles, we noticed a ship on the St. Lawrence heading downstream toward Quebec. We discovered later the ship to be the brig Fell carrying Governor Carleton to Quebec. One of General Montgomery’s men told me the tale of how the governor slipped out of Montreal with a flotilla thinking he’d cleanly escaped. The wily General Montgomery previously posted artillery at Sorel, not far east of Montreal to form a blockade. Carleton donned peasant clothes and took a small boat he paddled with his hands to remain silent. He left the flotilla behind to take their chances and he was later picked up by the boat we saw
moving down the river.
Pointe-aux-Trembles, Canada
Saturday, December 2nd, 1775
The morning after Gen. Montgomery arrives, being in the fittest condition, the Rifle Companies lead the return to Quebec to be followed by the main body the day after. A foot of snow lay on the ground as we approach Quebec, the frosting on the landscape and walls of the city give the vista an almost romantic appeal. That spell was broken before it could fully form.
We came upon the Redcoat pickets, who, not expecting our return so soon, are taken by surprise and captured.
General Montgomery, now in charge of the entire force of nearly a thousand men arrive in Quebec three days later. The supply ships having yet to arrive, we make several attempts to get Carleton to surrender.
Montgomery reorganized the assembled group of partial regiments to assure proper chain of command, accounting for the many losses already experienced, leaving Arnold’s command mostly intact as it had arrived in Canada. One exception was his promotion of Aaron Burr to captain and making him his aide-de-camp. Burr’s fellow volunteers, Eleazer Oswald and Matthias Ogden, remain in Col. Arnold’s service.
Thanks to prisoners captured by our Riflemen, we know the Quebec garrison is in serious need of re-provisioning. We hope the combined British-Canadian force inside the walled city will be forced to lay down their arms. Rather, Carleton has the Quebec garrison fire on our messengers, probably a habit learned from Maclean.
Our resupply arrives several days later, the spoils of Carleton’s narrow escape on the St. Lawrence. Reinforced and brought back to near battle fitness by shoes, winter clothing, and warm blankets, we span the Plains of Abraham west of Quebec. Montgomery arrayed our forces to cut off supplies of food and supplies into the city and prevent exit from the city by anyone other than women and children to further pressure the occupying troops into surrender.