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Page 43
Up to this period, none of the English generals had shown any military
talent. Shirley, the Earl of Loudon, and General Abercrombie, had each
held the chief command, at different times; but not one of them had won
a single important triumph for the British arms. This ill success was
not owing to the want of means; for, in 1758, General Abercrombie had
fifty thousand soldiers under his command. But the French general, the
famous Marquis de Montcalm, possessed a great genius for war, and had
something within him, that taught him how battles were to be won.
At length, in 1759, Sir Jeffrey Amherst was appointed commander-in-chief
of all the British forces in America. He was a man of ability, and a
skilful soldier. A plan was now formed for accomplishing that object,
which had so long been the darling wish of the New Englanders, and which
their fathers had so many times attempted. This was the conquest of
Canada.
Three separate armies were to enter Canada, from different quarters. One
of the three, commanded by General Prideaux, was to embark on Lake
Ontario, and proceed to Montreal. The second, at the head of which was
Sir Jeffrey Amherst himself, was destined to reach the River St.
Lawrence, by the way of Lake Champlain, and then go down the river to
meet the third army. This last, led by General Wolfe, was to enter the
St. Lawrence from the sea, and ascend the river to Quebec. It is to
Wolfe and his army that England owes one of the most splendid triumphs,
ever written in her history.
Grandfather described the siege of Quebec, and told how Wolfe led his
soldiers up a rugged and lofty precipice, that rose from the shore of
the river to the plain on which the city stood. This bold adventure was
achieved in the darkness of night. At day-break, tidings were carried to
the Marquis de Montcalm, that the English army was waiting to give him
battle on the plains of Abraham. This brave French general ordered his
drums to strike up, and immediately marched to encounter Wolfe.
He marched to his own death. The battle was the most fierce and
terrible, that had ever been fought in America. General Wolfe was at the
head of his soldiers, and while encouraging them onward, received a
mortal wound. He reclined against a stone, in the agonies of death; but
it seemed as if his spirit could not pass away, while the fight yet
raged so doubtfully. Suddenly, a shout came pealing across the
battle-field--"They flee! they flee!" and, for a moment, Wolfe lifted
his languid head. "Who flee?" he inquired. "The French," replied an
officer. "Then I die satisfied!" said Wolfe, and expired in the arms of
victory.
"If ever a warrior's death were glorious, Wolfe's was so!" said
Grandfather; and his eye kindled, though he was a man of peaceful
thoughts, and gentle spirit. "His life-blood streamed to baptize the
soil which he had added to the dominion of Britain! His dying breath was
mingled with his army's shout of victory!"
"Oh, it was a good death to die!" cried Charley, with glistening eyes.
"Was it not a good death, Laurence?"
Laurence made no reply; for his heart burned within him, as the picture
of Wolfe, dying on the blood-stained field of victory, arose to his
imagination; and yet, he had a deep inward consciousness, that, after
all, there was a truer glory than could thus be won.
"There were other battles in Canada, after Wolfe's victory," resumed
Grandfather; "but we may consider the Old French War as having
terminated with this great event. The treaty of peace, however, was not
signed until 1763. The terms of the treaty were very disadvantageous to
the French; for all Canada, and all Acadia, and the island of Cape
Breton, in short, all the territories that France and England had been
fighting about, for nearly a hundred years--were surrendered to the
English."
"So, now, at last," said Laurence, "New England had gained her wish.
Canada was taken!"
"And now there was nobody to fight with, but the Indians," said Charley.
Grandfather mentioned two other important events. The first was the
great fire of Boston, in 1700, when the glare from nearly three hundred
buildings, all in flames at once, shone through the windows of the
Province House, and threw a fierce lustre upon the gilded foliage and
lion's head of our old chair. The second event was the proclamation, in
the same year, of George the Third as king of Great Britain. The blast
of the trumpet sounded from the balcony of the Town House, and awoke the
echoes far and wide, as if to challenge all mankind to dispute King
George's title.
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