landing on the south side a little above Quebec, and looking across the water with a telescope, he descried a path that ran with a long slope up the face of the woody precipice, and saw at the top a cluster of tents.  They were those of Vergor’s guard at the Anse du Foulon, now called Wolfe’s Cove.  As he could see but ten or twelve of them, he thought that the guard could not be numerous, and might be overpowered.  His hope would have been stronger if he had known that Vergor had once been tried for misconduct and cowardice in the surrender of Beausejour, and saved from merited disgrace by the friendship of Bigot and the protection of Vaudreuil.[765]

[Footnote 763:  Letters in Boston Post Boy, No. 97, and Boston Evening Post, No. 1,258.]

[Footnote 764:  Memoirs of Major Robert Stobo. Curious, but often inexact.]

[Footnote 765:  See supra, p. 186.]

The morning of the seventh was fair and warm, and the vessels of Holmes, their crowded decks gay with scarlet uniforms, sailed up the river to Cap-Rouge.  A lively scene awaited them; for here were the headquarters of Bougainville, and here lay his principal force, while the rest watched the banks above and below.  The cove into which the little river runs was guarded by floating batteries; the surrounding shore was defended by breastworks; and a large body of regulars, militia, and mounted Canadians in blue uniforms moved to and fro, with restless activity, on the hills behind.  When the vessels came to anchor, the horsemen dismounted and formed in line with the infantry; then, with loud shouts, the whole rushed down the heights to man their works at the shore.  That true Briton, Captain Knox, looked on with a critical eye from the gangway of his ship, and wrote that night in his Diary that they had made a ridiculous noise.  “How different!” he exclaims, “how nobly awful and expressive of true valor is the customary silence of the British troops!”

In the afternoon the ships opened fire, while the troops entered the boats and rowed up and down as if looking for a landing-place.  It was but a feint of Wolfe to deceive Bougainville as to his real design.  A heavy easterly rain set in on the next morning, and lasted two days without respite.  All operations were suspended, and the men suffered greatly in the crowded transports.  Half of them were therefore landed on the south shore, where they made their quarters in the village of St. Nicholas, refreshed themselves, and dried their wet clothing, knapsacks, and blankets.

For several successive days the squadron of Holmes was allowed to drift up the river with the flood tide and down with the ebb, thus passing and repassing incessantly between the neighborhood of Quebec on one hand, and a point high above Cap-Rouge on the other; while Bougainville, perplexed, and always expecting an attack, followed the ships to and fro along the shore, by day and by night, till his men were exhausted with ceaseless forced marches.[766]