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

For Wolfe seemed to have upon his spirit the presentiment of coming doom.  He looked round upon the eager, expectant faces, and his own kindled with a loving enthusiasm.  He had loved these men, and they loved him.  The sight of his tall, gaunt form and thin, white face evoked cheer after cheer from soldiers and sailors alike.  He had to wait till the tumult subsided before he could speak, and then his voice rang out clear and trumpet-like as he briefly described to the listening host the position of affairs and what was expected of them.

“The enemy’s force is now divided, great scarcity prevails in their camp, and universal discontent among the Canadians.  Our troops below are in readiness to join us, all the light artillery and tools are embarked at Point Levi, and the troops will land where the French seem least to expect it.  The first body that gets on shore is to march directly to the enemy and drive them from any little post they may occupy; the officers must be careful that the succeeding bodies do not by any mistake fire on those who go before them.  The battalions must form on the upper ground with expedition, and be ready to charge whatever presents itself.  When the artillery and troops are landed, a corps will be left to secure the landing place while the rest march on and endeavour to bring the Canadians and French to a battle.  The officers and men will remember what their country expects of them, and what a determined body of soldiers, inured to war, is capable of doing against five weak French battalions mingled with a disorderly peasantry.”

Cheer after cheer rent the air as these words were heard.  The enthusiasm of the men had suffered no diminution during the days of waiting.  They loved their General; they respected and admired their officers.  They were full of eagerness to find themselves at last face to face with the foe.  They knew that upon the issue of this enterprise hung the whole fate of the long campaign.  If they failed in their design, they must return to England with a story of failure so far as Quebec was concerned; and no one would understand the full difficulties of the situation, or appreciate all the solid work that had already been accomplished towards the attainment of that object.

Everything that could be done had been done.  Admiral Saunders, in the Basin of Quebec, was deceiving Montcalm by preparations which convinced that General that the real point of attack was to be along the 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 Rouge was to be the immediate object of the English assault.  But all the while Wolfe and a few of his officers—­only a few—­were in the secret of the real basis of action; though the men knew that all was decided upon, and that they would be led with consummate skill and address.