taken the field in a very advantageous situation,—I
could not flatter myself that I should be able to
reduce the place. I sought, however, an occasion
to attack their army, knowing well that with these
troops I was able to fight, and hoping that a victory
might disperse them.” Then, after recounting
the events of the campaign with admirable clearness,
he continues: “I found myself so ill, and
am still so weak, that I begged the general officers
to consult together for the general utility. They
are all of opinion that, as more ships and provisions
are now got above the town, they should try, by conveying
up a corps of four or five thousand men (which is
nearly the whole strength of the army after the Points
of Levi and Orleans are left in a proper state of
defence), to draw the enemy from their present situation
and bring them to an action. I have acquiesced
in the proposal, and we are preparing to put it into
execution.” The letter ends thus:
“By the list of disabled officers, many of whom
are of rank, you may perceive that the army is much
weakened. By the nature of the river, the most
formidable part of this armament is deprived of the
power of acting; yet we have almost the whole force
of Canada to oppose. In this situation there
is such a choice of difficulties that I own myself
at a loss how to determine. The affairs of Great
Britain, I know, require the most vigorous measures;
but the courage of a handful of brave troops should
be exerted only when there is some hope of a favorable
event; however, you may be assured that the small part
of the campaign which remains shall be employed, as
far as I am able, for the honor of His Majesty and
the interest of the nation, in which I am sure of
being well seconded by the Admiral and by the generals;
happy if our efforts here can contribute to the success
of His Majesty’s arms in any other parts of
America.”
Some days later, he wrote to the Earl of Holdernesse:
“The Marquis of Montcalm has a numerous body
of armed men (I cannot call it an army), and the strongest
country perhaps in the world. Our fleet blocks
up the river above and below the town, but can give
no manner of aid in an attack upon the Canadian army.
We are now here [off Cap-Rouge] with about
thirty-six hundred men, waiting to attack them when
and wherever they can best be got at. I am so
far recovered as to do business; but my constitution
is entirely ruined, without the consolation of doing
any considerable service to the state, and without
any prospect of it.” He had just learned,
through the letter brought from Amherst by Ensign
Hutchins, that he could expect no help from that quarter.
Perhaps he was as near despair as his undaunted nature
was capable of being. In his present state of
body and mind he was a hero without the light and
cheer of heroism. He flattered himself with no
illusions, but saw the worst and faced it all.
He seems to have been entirely without excitement.
The languor of disease, the desperation of the chances,
and the greatness of the stake may have wrought to
tranquillize him. His energy was doubly tasked:
to bear up his own sinking frame, and to achieve an
almost hopeless feat of arms.