Chapter 3: A Daring Design.

  Ticonderoga fallen! The news was like new wine in the veins ofWolfe. Ill as he was, he insisted that Stark should be brought tohis bedside, and he eagerly entreated the bold Ranger to tell himthe whole story.

  "There is not so much to tell as there might be," said Stark, "forthe French made no fight, either at Ticonderoga or at Crown Point.We came with a gallant array against their fortresses, only to findthat the enemy had evacuated them. They tried to blow upTiconderoga before they left; but only one bastion was destroyed.Crown Point was deserted without a blow being struck. I waited forthat, and then made good my word. I said I would be the first totake the news of the fall of Ticonderoga to General Wolfe atQuebec."

  Wolfe's eyes were shining with excitement.

  "Then is General Amherst on his way here with his army?" he askedeagerly.

  Stark shook his head.

  "Alas, no! there is still much work to be done. If the French haveabandoned these two forts, it is only that they may concentrate alltheir strength at Isle-aux-Noix, where the General must now attackthem. And to do this he must build a brigantine and other vessels;and though there is a sawmill at Ticonderoga, the work will stilltake somewhat long to accomplish. I fear that many weeks willelapse before he can advance; and meantime--"

  He paused, for he scarce knew how to conclude the sentence. He hadheard as he passed through the camp towards Wolfe's quarters thatthe outlook was not altogether a bright one, despite the fact thatsuccess had crowned many of the enterprises hitherto undertaken.

  Wolfe took up the unfinished sentence and spoke.

  "Meantime the winter gales will be threatening us, and if the wallsof Quebec still shut us out, we may be forced to sail to Englandwith our task yet uncompleted, or to take up our winter quarters inone of the islands, and wait for better things next spring. Wasthat the thought in your mind, John Stark?"

  "In truth, sir, as I came along and surveyed the position of thenotable city of Quebec, it seemed to me that it would be a hardtask to bring it to surrender; but then we all know that GeneralWolfe can accomplish the impossible if any man can."

  A slight smile crossed Wolfe's worn face.

  "I look like a man to perform the impossible, don't I, good Stark?"he said; and the Ranger's eyes filled with pitiful sympathy as hemade answer:

  "Indeed, sir, I grieve to find you so; and yet men say that Wolfesick is better than half a dozen other generals in full health andstrength. Believe me, we have faith in you, and believe that youwill win the day even single handed, though all the world shouldlook on in scornful amaze, and say that you had set yourself theimpossible."

  Wolfe's eyes flashed. A flush rose for a moment in his pale cheek.Julian saw that such words as these moved him and braced his spiritlike a tonic. He was half afraid lest it should be too muchexcitement, and he signed to Fritz to take Stark away.

  "But I will see him again anon," said Wolfe; "I must hear more ofthese things. Let him be fed and well looked to, and presently Iwill ask him to come to me again."

  And when the two had left him, Wolfe turned to Julian and said:

  "I see now that I have nothing to hope for in a junction withAmherst. He will have his hands full till the close of the season.If Quebec is to be taken, we must take it ourselves, unaided fromwithout. I think I would rather die out here, and leave thiscarcass of mine in a Canadian grave, than return to England withthe news that Quebec still holds out against the English flag!"

  "Nay, say not so," answered Julian earnestly, "for the greatestgeneral may be baffled at some point. And think of yourmother--and--Miss Lowther!"

  A softer look came into Wolfe's eyes. Upon his lips there hovered aslight, strange smile. Instinctively his hand sought for somethingbeneath his pillow. Julian well knew what it was: a case containingminiature portraits of the two beings he loved best in theworld--his mother, and the fair girl who had promised to become hiswife.

  He did not open it, but he held it in his hand, and spoke with adreamy softness of intonation.

  "There be times when I think that men of war should have no mothersor sisters or lovers," he said. "We leave so sad a heritage behindfor them so oft. And we are not worth the sacred tears that theyshed over us when we fall."

  "And yet I think they would scarce be without those sacred memoriesto cherish," answered Julian, thinking of Mrs. Wolfe's idolizationof her son, and of Kate Lowther's bright eyes, overflowing withloving admiration. "But why speak you so, as though you would seethem no more? Your health is slowly mending now, and you have beenthrough perils and dangers before now, and have come safe out ofthem."

  "That is true," answered Wolfe thoughtfully; "and yet a voice in myheart seems to tell me that I shall see those loved faces no more.It may be but the fantasy of a troubled and fevered brain; but indreams I have seen them, tears in their eyes, weeping for oneunworthy of such grief, who lies in a far-off grave beneath thefrowning battlements of yon great city. I wonder ofttimes whetherwe are given to know something of that which is about to befall;for in my heart a voice has spoken, and that voice has said thatQuebec shall be ours, but that these eyes shall never see what lieswithin the ramparts, for they will be sealed in death before thathour shall arrive."

  Julian had no reply ready; he knew not what to say. It did indeedseem little likely that that frail form could survive the perilsand hardships of this great siege, should it be prosecuted to theend, and should some daring assault be successfully made againstthe impregnable city.

  From the day upon which Stark arrived in the camp at Montmorency withthe news from Ticonderoga Wolfe began to mend. It seemed as thoughthe certainty that the English arms were prevailing in the west,though no help could be looked for this season from Amherst, combinedto put a sort of new vigour and resolution into the heart of thedauntless young General. If anything were to be accomplished, hemust now do it by his own unaided efforts; and since August waswell nigh past, if he were to act at all it must be soon, or thewinter storms might come sweeping down, and render his positionuntenable.

  He had had plenty of time whilst lying helpless in bed to think outvarious plans of attack upon the city. Each one seemed desperateand hopeless, whether, as before, the assault were made by means ofboats along the Beauport shore, or by crossing the upper ford aboveMontmorency and fetching a compass behind the French position, orby storming the lower town, now almost in ruins, for it wascommanded by the batteries in the citadel and upper town. In fact,the French position was so strong everywhere that it was difficultto see how any enterprise could possibly prove successful.

  In his hours of comparative ease Wolfe had thought out, and Julianhad written out at his dictation, a sketch of one or twoalternative plans for attack, which he sent in the form of a letterto the Brigadiers commanding the various detachments of the army,asking them to take counsel together over them, and to meet at thefarmhouse as soon as he was well enough to see them, and let themdiscuss the matter together. All Wolfe's projects were for attackfrom the lower river; for lying ill and helpless as he was, he hadhardly realized what had been going steadily on ever since thatfirst successful attempt to get shipping past the town guns andinto the upper reach of the St. Lawrence. Every time there was asuitable night, with a favouring wind, vessels had run the gauntletof the batteries, always covered by a heavy fire from Point Levi;and now quite a fleet of warships, frigates, and transports lay inthe reach above the town, whilst Montcalm had had to weaken hiscamp at Beauport to watch the heights there. For though these weresteep and rugged and inaccessible, it would not do to leave themunguarded.

  When the Brigadiers met in the old farmhouse, Wolfe was up anddressed for almost the first time, looking gaunt and haggard, hisface lined with pain and care, but full of calm and steadfastpurpose, and with a mind as clear as ever. He was touched by thewarm greetings of his officers, and by their tales as to theenthusiastic delight in the ranks at the news that their Generalwas better.

  The army was animated by a spirit of great c
ourage and confidence.The news from Ticonderoga had done good. This had been followed bytidings of the capture of the Niagara fort. Even though Amherstcould not coalesce with them, they were feeling that English armswere everywhere invincible, and that even Quebec would not longstand against them. It would be the greater glory to vanquish itsingle-handed; and had they not Wolfe to lead them?

  Wolfe could not but smile as he heard this, and then the discussionbegan. The Brigadiers had read his alternative proposals; but theyhad another to lay before him which they thought more likely ofsuccess. This was to make the real attack above the town,transporting men and munitions by means of their ships now lying inthe upper reach, and seeking to obtain a footing upon the heights,from whence they might bombard the upper city, or even carry it byan impetuous assault.

  "We can make a feint of attacking at Beauport, to keep the Marquisupon the alert there, and his troops from being detached to thedefence of the heights. But let our real assault be on that side,"advised Moncton, whose position at Point Levi gave him considerableknowledge of affairs upon the upper river. "It is true that theheights are watched and guarded, but the force there is not large.They trust to the nature of the ground, which is inhospitable tothe last degree, to hinder any attempt at landing. And our vesselsin the river below are leading poor Bougainville a fine dance upand down the banks. He has some twenty miles to protect with lessthan two thousand men--so far as we can learn--and Admiral Holmes,who commands the fleet, takes care that he shall have no rest nightor day. The men begin to know the ground; they are full of desirefor the attack. It sounds desperate, we are well aware; but then sodo all the plans. Yet if we are to make one great dash upon Quebecbefore we give up the hope of taking it this season, we mustattempt the apparently impossible!"

  Into Wolfe's eyes had sprung the battle light. Desperate it mightbe to scale almost perpendicular cliffs and plant batteries on thetop whilst exposed to the fire of a sleepless enemy there, whocould send for reinforcements by thousands when once aware of thethreatened peril. And yet now that he knew his strength in theupper river, and the wishes of his officers, he hesitated not oneinstant.

  "It shall be tried," he said, "and it shall be tried quickly. Theissues of life and death, of battle and victory, are in higherhands than ours. It is for us to do our utmost to brave all. We cando no more, but we can do that!"

  The meeting broke up. The Brigadiers went back to their respectivestations to announce the decision and to make preparation. Eagerenthusiasm prevailed throughout the ranks of the army, and thequestion in all mouths was, would the General be fit to lead themin person.

  This was Wolfe's own great anxiety. His physician shook his head,but received this characteristic admonition:

  "I know perfectly well you cannot cure me; but pray make me up sothat I may be free from unbearable pain for a few days, able to domy duty by my brave soldiers, That is all I ask or want."

  As soon as ever he was able, Wolfe visited the Admirals on theirships and discussed his plan with them. They were all becomingrather anxious at the lateness of the season, and were thinking ofmoving away. But they consented to remain till this attempt shouldbe made; Wolfe, on his part, agreeing that if it failed he mustabandon the hope of reducing Quebec this season, and not expose hissoldiers to the needless hardships of a winter in these inclementlatitudes,

  As it was, there was a good deal of sickness amongst the men, andthe number of able-bodied soldiers was considerably reduced. Wolfevisited those in hospital, and spoke kind and cheering words tothem. He knew what it was to be laid aside from active service, andhow hard inactivity was when there was work to be done.

  The camp on the Montmorency was broken up first. Wolfe wanted hissoldiers elsewhere, and he thought it no bad move to take thisstep, as the French would probably think it the first move in theevacuation of the whole position. Montcalm, indeed, would havefallen upon them in the rear and inflicted heavy damage, if Monctonat Point Levi had not seen the danger, and sent a number of men inboats to make a feint of attacking Beauport; upon which the troopswere hastily recalled.

  All was activity and secret industry in the English lines, A wholefleet of baggage boats was laden and smuggled past the town gunsinto the upper river; more craft followed, till quite an armamentlay in that wider reach above; and yet the French were notpermitted to have any exact notion as to what was to be done, northat any serious attack was meditated in that direction.

  Wolfe himself was taken up the river in one of the vessels. He wasstill weak and suffering, but he could no longer give any thoughtto his own condition.

  "I can rest when the battle is fought," he said to Julian, whowould fain have bidden him spare himself more; and it seemed to hisfriend as though there were more in those words than met the ear.

  News was daily brought in of the strength of the French position.Montcalm, very uneasy at the action of the English fleet, sent asmany reinforcements as he could spare to man the heights and gorgesof the upper river. Batteries were planted, and every step taken toguard against the danger of attack. Rain and wind hindered theEnglish from putting their plan into immediate execution, and themen suffered a good deal from close crowding on the transports, andfrom various brushes with the enemy which enlivened the monotony ofthose days of waiting.

  Wolfe's eyes were everywhere. He was in the Admiral's vessel, andalthough sometimes hardly able to drag himself upon deck, he wouldnote with all his old keenness every nook and cranny in theprecipitous shores, every movement of the enemy, every naturaladvantage which could possibly be made use of in his attempt.

  All this time the ships were drifting to and fro with the tide fromthe basin of the upper river, just above Quebec itself, right awayto Cap Rouge, where the French had their headquarters, and werealways ready for an assault. This action on the part of the shipswas a very politic one, for it kept the French troops ceaselesslyupon the march and the watch, wearing them out with fatigue; whilstthe English soldiers on board their vessels were at their ease,save that they were rather uncomfortably crowded.

  The long delay was over at last. The weather had improved; Wolfehad made up his mind as to every detail of the attack; the troopsat Point Levi and on the Isle of Orleans had been instructed as tothe parts they were to play in drawing off the enemy's attentionfrom the real point of attack.

  "I should like to address the men once more," said Wolfe to Julian,upon a still September morning. "I should like them to take onelast charge from my own lips; perhaps it may be the last I shallever give them!"

  For Wolfe seemed to have upon his spirit the presentiment of comingdoom. He looked round upon the eager, expectant faces, and his ownkindled with a loving enthusiasm. He had loved these men, and theyloved him. The sight of his tall, gaunt form and thin, white faceevoked cheer after cheer from soldiers and sailors alike. He had towait till the tumult subsided before he could speak, and then hisvoice rang out clear and trumpet-like as he briefly described tothe listening host the position of affairs and what was expected ofthem.

  "The enemy's force is now divided, great scarcity prevails in theircamp, and universal discontent among the Canadians. Our troopsbelow are in readiness to join us, all the light artillery andtools are embarked at Point Levi, and the troops will land wherethe French seem least to expect it. The first body that gets onshore is to march directly to the enemy and drive them from anylittle post they may occupy; the officers must be careful that thesucceeding bodies do not by any mistake fire on those who go beforethem. The battalions must form on the upper ground with expedition,and be ready to charge whatever presents itself. When the artilleryand troops are landed, a corps will be left to secure the landingplace while the rest march on and endeavour to bring the Canadiansand French to a battle. The officers and men will remember whattheir country expects of them, and what a determined body ofsoldiers, inured to war, is capable of doing against five weakFrench battalions mingled with a disorderly peasantry."

  Cheer after cheer rent the air as these words were heard. Theent
husiasm of the men had suffered no diminution during the days ofwaiting. They loved their General; they respected and admired theirofficers. They were full of eagerness to find themselves at lastface to face with the foe. They knew that upon the issue of thisenterprise hung the whole fate of the long campaign. If they failedin their design, they must return to England with a story offailure so far as Quebec was concerned; and no one would understandthe full difficulties of the situation, or appreciate all the solidwork that had already been accomplished towards the attainment ofthat object.

  Everything that could be done had been done. Admiral Saunders, in theBasin of Quebec, was deceiving Montcalm by preparations whichconvinced that General that the real point of attack was to be alongthe Beauport shore, where he therefore massed his troops in readiness;whilst Admiral Holmes, with his bateaux and flat-bottomed troop boats,was deluding Bougainville with the notion that his camp at Cap Rougewas to be the immediate object of the English assault. But all thewhile Wolfe and a few of his officers--only a few--were in the secretof the real basis of action; though the men knew that all was decidedupon, and that they would be led with consummate skill and address.

  In the grey of the morning, Julian, too excited to sleep, heard thesoft plash of oars alongside the Sutherland, and raising his headto look over the bulwarks, he heard his name pronounced in afamiliar voice.

  "Humphrey, is that you?"

  "Yes," he answered. "I have gleaned some news. I want to impart itto the General."

  Wolfe was lying on deck looking up at the quiet stars overhead,worn out with the long strain, yet free from acute pain, andthankful for the boon. He heard the words, and sat up.

  "Bring him to me," he ordered; "I will hear his report."

  The next minute Humphrey was on deck and beside him. Humphrey wasoften employed to carry messages from ship to ship. He had builthimself a light, strong canoe; and could shoot through the wateralmost like an Indian. He stood beside Wolfe's couch and told histale.

  "I went up to the French camp as close as possible. I heard therethat some boatloads of provisions were to be sent down tonight uponthe ebb to Montcalm's camp. They have done this before, and will doit again. Later on I came upon two Canadians, seeking to escapefrom the French camp. I took them across to our vessels for safety.They confirmed what I had overheard. Boats laden with provisionwill be passing the French sentries along the coast tonight. If ourboats go down in advance of these, they may do so almostunchallenged."

  Wolfe's eyes brightened before he had heard the last word. Heinstantly perceived the advantage which might accrue to them fromthis piece of information luckily hit upon. He grasped Humphrey'shand in a warm clasp, and said:

  "You bring good news, comrade. I think the star of England is aboutto rise upon this land. Go now and rest yourself; but be near to mein the time of struggle. You are a swift and trusty messenger. Itis such as you"--and his eyes sought Julian and Fritz, who wereboth alert and awake--"that I desire to have about me in the hourof final struggle."

  Then, when Humphrey had gone below with Fritz, Wolfe turned toJulian and said, speaking slowly and dreamily:

  "There is something I would say to you, my friend. I have a strangefeeling that the close of my life is at hand--that I shall not liveto see the fruit of my toil; though to die in battle--in the hour,if it may be, of victory--has been ever the summit of my hopes andambition. Something tells me that I shall gain the object of myhope tomorrow, or today perchance. I have one charge to give you,Julian, if that thing should come to pass."

  Julian bit his lip; he could not speak. He was aware of thepresentiment which hung upon Wolfe's spirit, but he had foughtagainst it might and main.

  The, soldier placed his hand within the breast of his coat, anddetached and drew out that miniature case containing the likenessof his mother and his betrothed. He opened it once, looked long inthe dim light at both loved faces, and pressed his lips to each inturn.

  "If I should fall," he said, "give it to Kate; I think she willlike to have it. Tell her I wore it upon my heart till the last. Iwould not have it shattered by shot and shell. Give it her with mydying blessing and love, and tell her that my last prayer will befor her happiness. She must not grieve too much for me, or let herlife be shadowed. I am happy in having known her love. I desirethat happiness shall be her portion in life. Tell her that when yougive her that case."

  He closed it and placed it in Julian's hands, and spoke no more;though throughout that day of preparation and thought a gentlequietude of manner possessed him, and struck all with whom he camein contact.

  Even when at last all was in readiness and the General in one ofthe foremost boats was drifting silently down the dark river, withthe solemn stars overhead, it was not of battles or deeds of daringthat he spoke with those about him. After the silence of deeptension his melodious voice was heard speaking words that fellstrangely on the ears of the officers clustered about him.

  "The curlew tolls the knell of parting day" spoke that voice; andin the deep hush of night the whole of that "Elegy" was softlyrehearsed in a strangely impressive manner, a thrill runningthrough many at the words:

  "The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

  When the recitation was over there was a long, deep silence, brokenat last by Wolfe himself, who said:

  "Gentlemen, I would rather have written that poem than takeQuebec!"