French and English: A Story of the Struggle in America

"If I had my way, we should sail from Louisbourg straight for Quebec," cried Wolfe, with a flash in his eyes. "I would follow up one blow by another. Yet I know not whether our instructions will carry us thus far. Nevertheless, I hope to live to see the day when the English flag shall wave over the ramparts of that city and fortress which has been called the Impregnable."

The news, rumour though it was and unconfirmed, of fresh disaster to the English arms in the interior excited much feeling in the English ranks. Had there been another massacre, such as had disgraced the struggle at Fort William Henry? What would be the next tidings which would reach them of their brethren in arms?

There had been so many tales of horror told out in the wild west that strong men often shuddered at the bare thought of what they might have to bear. So the faces of men and officers were alike stern and dark; and when the white flag fluttered at last from the walls of Louisbourg, and the news ran like wildfire through the camp that the fortress was about to surrender, there was a feeling in all hearts that the terms granted should not be too easy. France owed England a deep and mighty debt, which sooner or later she must pay.

Wolfe was sent for to be with General Amherst when he received the deputation of the French, and he returned to his quarters looking grave and thoughtful.

"We have told them that they must surrender as prisoners of war, and send their reply within an hour. If they refuse, we attack at once both by land and sea. We are all resolved that the siege shall be brought to an end. If we could have been here a month earlier, we might have effected a junction with our friends in the west, and have averted the calamity which has overtaken them there."

"Will they accept?" asked Julian eagerly. "They are in a sore strait, but yet they are brave men. They might, perhaps, have looked to be permitted to march out with the honours of war after their bold defence."

"Yes; and this would have been granted them had it not been for what happened at Fort William Henry. But the memory of that day cannot be wiped out from the memory of our officers, The General was supported by the bulk of his officers. They will have no conditions. They will treat the sick and the wounded and the towns people with every consideration, but they will be absolute masters. The Admiral was there, and he and the General signed the note. They are resolved to abide by its contents."

Excitement reigned everywhere. The firing had ceased, and the stillness of the air was like that which sometimes precedes the bursting of a thunderstorm, What reply would the fort return? and how quickly would it arrive? It was understood that, in the event of delay, a general assault would be made, and some of the soldiers would have eagerly welcomed the order for the advance.

Keen excitement prevailed when it became known that a messenger had come, not bringing the expected reply, but one asking for less rigorous terms.

"The General would not see him," was the cry. "He was sent back to say that nothing would be changed from the last letter addressed to the Governor. The Admiral and General are alike agreed. There will be no wavering from that."

It was plain that there was some variance in the city itself. In the ranks of the besieging force there was intense excitement and stir. Every man was looking to his arms, save when he was asking news and gazing towards the walls of the city. That something decisive must soon be settled was apparent to all.

The white flag again! A messenger was coming out towards the camp with the reply. He appeared in no haste, and paused again and again to look back. Suddenly another man appeared running hastily after him. The first messenger paused, consulted with him, and then turned back towards the city. The second man ran on alone, making vehement signs, as though afraid there might yet be some misunderstanding.

"We accept! we accept!" he shouted out, waving a paper above his head, beside himself with excitement.

Two men followed him; they were taken into the tent of the General, who, with the Admiral, was awaiting the final answer. But the first messenger remained without, panting and exhausted, and Julian instantly recognized him as an officer who had shown him some kindness during his short stay within the fortress.

He came up to him now, and the recognition was mutual.

"So you were a spy all the while, my friend!" said the Frenchman, with something like a grim laugh. "Had we known that, you would have received a different welcome. Ah well, it matters little now. And it is a pity for brave men to die like dogs. We were in a sad pass before. You could not have told much that was not already known."

"The fortress is ready to capitulate?"

"Not the fortress, but the town. Bad as our condition is, we would not have surrendered on those terms. We had indeed dispatched a messenger to say as much. But the Provost and the citizens were too many for us. They ran to the citadel, and made such work that the Governor yielded, and I offered, being fleet of foot, to run after the messenger and stop him if it could be done. Luckily his own heart misgave him, and he had not hurried. And close upon my heels were sent others with more definite instructions. And thus Louisbourg passes into the hands of gallant foes. But I trust they will show every courtesy to our brave Madame."

"Have no fear on that score," answered Julian; "I have told in the English camp of the bravery and gracious kindness of Madame le General. Our commander will see that she is treated with every consideration; as also the sick and wounded, her special charge. It is well not to drive us to assault the weakened town. Now we shall enter as friends rather than foes."

"So said the Provost, remembering that the English have much cause of complaint against us. We cannot deny that ourselves. Ah me! it is the chance of war. We have had our triumphs, and now you have your turn. It is not here but at Quebec that the real trial of strength will be. I think, my friends, you will find that you have a hard nut to crack there."

"So they said of Louisbourg, and yet that has been done," answered Julian, with a smile. "But come in, and refresh yourself in my tent here whilst the messengers are conferring with our General. They will have to draw up terms of capitulation. There will be time to get a good meal whilst that is being done."

At dawn the following morning the drums beat. The English soldiers got into order, and marched through the Dauphin gate into the town. The French soldiers, drawn up in array, threw down their muskets, and with tears of mortification marched away, leaving the victors in possession.

The English flag was run up, amid wild cheering, and floated over the grim and shattered ramparts. The turn of the tide had come at last, and Louisbourg had fallen into the hands of the English.

Chapter 4: The Fruits Of Victory

Wolfe lay upon a couch in a comfortable apartment, such as he had not inhabited since he set sail from England months ago. It was in the citadel itself-in the heart of the King's Bastion, where the Governor had his quarters.

Wolfe had been the life and soul of the siege. To his genius and indomitable resolution the victory of the English arms had been largely due. He had forced himself to take the lead, and had toiled night and day in the crisis of the struggle and the final triumph; and even after the victors had marched in, his eyes seemed to be everywhere, enforcing discipline, preventing any sort of disorder or licence amongst the soldiers, and sternly repressing the smallest attempt on their part to plunder the townsfolk, or take the slightest advantage of their helpless condition.

He had specially seen to the condition of the sick and wounded, insuring them the same care as was given to the English in like case. This had been one of the articles of the capitulation, but it was one which was in like cases too often carelessly carried out, sometimes almost ignored.

Wolfe with his own eyes saw that there was no shirking, no mismanagement here. He seemed to be everywhere at once during those busy days which followed the entrance into the town. But outraged nature would have her revenge at last, and for three days he had lain helpless and suffering in the room assigned to him in the Governor's house, watched over and tended by Julian, who had by this time come to have a very adequate idea as to the treatment most needed by him when those attacks came on.

The cool of the evening had followed upon the heat of a very sultry day, which had greatly tried the sufferer. Wolfe looked up, and saw his friend beside him, and smiled in recognition of his attentions.

"You are always here, Julian; you must surely want rest yourself. You have been here night and day. I know it even though I may not seem to do so. But I shall be on my legs again soon. I can feel that the access of pain is abating. How have things been going in the town since I was laid by the heels?"

"Oh well, several vessels with their load of prisoners have already sailed for England; many of the townsfolk and merchants have started, or are starting, for France; some regiments of our men are to be sent at once to reinforce General Abercromby. I fear by all accounts that they will come too late to be of any real use for the campaign this season. It is quite true that he suffered a crushing defeat at Ticonderoga, due, as many of the officers say, to bad generalship. Still he will doubtless be glad of support in the wilderness, wherever he may be. Humphrey is to start with the first detachment; he expects his orders for departure daily."

Wolfe raised himself upon his elbow and sat up, despite his weakness, fired by excitement and energy.

"But Quebec, Quebec, Quebec!" he exclaimed; "surely we are going forward to Quebec?"

Julian shook his head doubtfully.

"I fear me not at least this present season. I hear it said that General Amherst was ready, but that the Admiral was against it for the present. They say there is still much to do in subduing the adjacent possessions of France in these lands, and so paving the way for the greater enterprise. Various officers are to be sent hither and thither upon expeditions to small settlements, to uproot or destroy them. When this has been done, perhaps the move to Quebec will be made. But I fear me it will not be before next year."

Wolfe made a gesture of irritation and impatience.

"Have we not yet had enough of procrastination?" he questioned bitterly. "Will England never learn the lesson which her reverses should have taught her? What boots the victory we have gained here, if it be not the stepping stone to lead us to Quebec?"

"Who speaks of Quebec?" asked a clear, musical voice at the half-open door; and Julian sprang to his feet, exclaiming as he did so:

"It is Madame Drucour! she has come every day to see and inquire after you."

Hearing the sound of her name, the lady pushed open the door and entered-a graceful, stately figure clothed all in black; her beautiful face worn and pale, and trouble lurking in the depths of her hazel eyes; yet calm and serene and noble of aspect as she moved forward and held out a slim white hand to the patient.

"You are better, Monsieur?" she asked, in her full, rich tones. "I trust that the suffering is less than it was. The fever, I can see, has abated somewhat."

Wolfe carried the hand he held to his lips. In common with all the officers who had made her acquaintance, Wolfe had come to have a very high opinion of Madame Drucour.

"I thank you, gracious lady, for your condescension in asking. I trust soon to be restored to such measure of health and strength as I ever enjoy. At best I am but a cranky creature; but with quarters such as these I should be worse than ungrateful if I did not mend. I trust my presence here has caused you no inconvenience; for truly I believe that I am in your house, and that I owe to you the comforts I enjoy."

She gave a strange little smile as she seated herself beside him.

"In truth, Monsieur, I know not what I may call my own today. This town and fortress are now no longer ours, and we are but here ourselves on sufferance-prisoners of war-"

"Nay, nay, not prisoners-not you, Madame," answered Wolfe hastily. "We war not against women-least of all such noble ladies as yourself!"

She acknowledged this speech by a little motion of the head, and then continued, in a tone at once sorrowful and dignified: "I cannot separate myself from those amongst whom I have lived for so long. I acknowledge with gratitude the courtesy I have received from all. I know that my personal liberty is assured to me. But my heart will always be where there is need of help by my own countrymen. If not a prisoner to the English, I am held in other bonds."

"Ah yes," answered Wolfe, with an answering sparkle in his eye; "that I understand well. We are all bound to our country in bonds that cannot be severed. And yet we are bound to the common cause of humanity, and there we meet on common ground. We need not remember anything else at such a time, Madame. We serve in one army there. Do not our wounded as well as your own bless the sight of your face and the sound of your voice amongst them?"

"And have they not cause to bless the name of that brave officer who, in spite of his own weakness and suffering, would not rest until he had seen in person that all were cared for-foes as well as friends? Yes, truly, Monsieur, in one warfare we can stand upon the same side, and fight the same battle against disease and suffering and death. I would that this were the only kind of warfare that is known in the world!"

"And I too-sometimes," replied Wolfe, lying back again on his pillows and looking dreamily out before him. "There are moments, it is true, when the battle fever works in a man's blood, and war seems to him then a glorious game. But it has its terrible and hateful side, as every soldier knows well. And yet the day seems far away when wars shall be no more."

"Indeed yes," answered Madame Drucour, with a little sigh; "we have a sorrowful prospect before us yet. What was the word which I heard you speak as I entered? Was it not of that projected march upon Quebec?"

"It was," answered Wolfe frankly. "I may not deny, Madame, that the longing of my heart at this moment is to try conclusions with your gallant countrymen beneath the walls of Quebec."

"You are bold, Monsieur," said Madame Drucour, with a little smile.

"You know Quebec, Madame?"

"Very well. It is there that I purpose going with my husband when the exchange is completed which gives him his liberty. I have relatives there, and I go to be with them when duty may call my husband elsewhere. If you come to Quebec, Monsieur, we may perchance meet again."

"It will be something happy to look forward to."

"There is always joy in feeling that the foe we fight is a noble and generous one. I shall tell in Quebec how the English General, though stern in his terms of capitulation, refused to me nothing that I asked when once the town was given up, and how generously he and all his officers showed themselves, and in especial one-Brigadier Wolfe!"

The young man bowed at the compliment.

"And I, on my side, shall know that if Madame Drucour is within the walls of Quebec, no garrison can fail to be gallant and devoted. Such an example before their eyes would put heart and heroism into the most faint hearted."

A very sincere liking grew up between Madame Drucour and her guests before Wolfe was on his legs again, and able to return to his quarters amongst his men. Indeed, his happiest hours were spent in the company of that lady, for there was much to vex and try him when in the camp.

There was to be no move upon Quebec that season and Wolfe chafed rather bitterly at the decision, and wrote to General Amherst in stronger terms than most subordinate officers would have ventured to do. He even spoke of throwing up the service, if nothing were to be done at such a critical time; but the General would not hear of losing so valuable an officer, and indeed, in spite of the irritability sometimes engendered by his ill-health, Wolfe was too much the soldier at heart ever to abandon his calling.

It was, however, rather hard to one of his ardent and chivalrous temperament, eager for the great blow to be struck against Quebec, to be deputed to harry and destroy a number of little fishing settlements along the Gulf of St. Lawrence-which measure he considered a needless severity, and hated accordingly. It was a relief to him to know that Pitt, having heard of his severe bout of illness after the taking of Louisbourg, had summoned him back to England to recruit his health.

"When we have finished our great exploit of robbing fishermen of their nets and burning their huts, we will to England again, Julian; and you will come with me, my trusty comrade and friend. If we are spreading the terror of England's name here, we are not adding to her laurels. Let me remain at home till there be real warfare to accomplish, and then let me come out again. This task is odious and sickening to me. Were it not that another might show more harshness and barbarity over it, I would e'en decline the mission."

Humphrey had already left Louisbourg for Philadelphia and the western frontier; but Julian had elected to remain with Wolfe, who had come to depend upon him in no small measure. There was something in the temperaments of the two men which made them congenial one to the other. Wolfe's restless irritability was soothed by Julian's quiet calmness, and there was in both men a strain of ardent patriotism and self devotion which gave them sympathies in common.

Together they set sail for England when the soldier's work was done, and after a fairly prosperous voyage they landed in that country, and immediately started for Bath, where Wolfe hoped to find relief from his rheumatic troubles, and gain the strength which he had lost during this hard campaign.

"I think my mother will be awaiting me there this time," he said, with a light in his eyes. "You have never seen my mother yet, Julian. Ah, how I long to see her again! she has been such a mother to me! There are times when I think if I have to give up this profession of arms, and take to a quiet life, I could have a very happy life at home with my mother. We suit each other so well, and we are like each other in our foibles and weaknesses. I think I have inherited my cranky health from her, but not her beauty. You will see for yourself how little like her I am in that respect when we get home."

To Julian, who had known nothing of the joys of home since he left his valley in the far south of the Western world, and who had no home to call his own now, there was something touching in the eagerness of Wolfe to reach his home and his mother. His father was not likely to be there. He would almost certainly be either in Kent, or else abroad; for he still held a command in the army, and the war on the Continent was still raging furiously. But the mother would be awaiting her son in the house he had written to ask her to secure for him again. It was within easy reach of the town, and yet it was quiet and secluded, and suited his tastes and habits.

It was almost dark one murky autumn evening when the lumbering coach, which had conveyed the friends the last stages of their journey, drew up at the door of the house. Lights shone in the windows, and from the open door there streamed out a glowing shaft of yellow light, bespeaking the warm welcome awaiting the tired traveller.

Wolfe had been weary to the verge of exhaustion when they had abandoned the attempt to ride the whole distance, and had secured the heavy coach; but now he seemed to revive to new life, and he sprang from it with some of the activity of youth and strength.

"Mother-there is my mother!" he exclaimed; and Julian saw him take the steps two at a time, to meet the advancing greeting from the mother who had come to welcome home her son.

Mrs. Wolfe was a distinctly beautiful woman, whose beauty had been but little dimmed by time. There was a sweet, matronly repose about her, and the brightness of her red-gold hair was dashed with streaks of soft grey beneath the laces with which it was crowned. But her complexion was clear and fair, and there was a look of soft fragility about her which made the son's protecting air of solicitude a natural and appropriate one. She folded him in her arms in a long, rapturous embrace; and Julian stood silently by the while, reverent of that deep love which for the moment could find no expression save in the whispered words:

"Mother! mother! mother!"

"My son-my dear boy! my son come back to me!"

When the lady turned at length to greet the silent figure who stood silently watching this meeting, Julian could see that the tears were standing upon her cheeks and sparkling in her eyes.

"You will pardon me, sir, for this apparent neglect," she said sweetly, putting her thin jewelled fingers into Julian's hand; "but when my boy goes forth to the fight, I never know whether it will be God's will to send him back to me safe and sound. A mother's heart cannot but be full upon a day like this. But second only to my joy in welcoming him back is this of making acquaintance with the trusty friend who has been so much to him during his perils and labours."

"Madam, it has been the joy and honour of my life to be able to serve so great a soldier and so noble a man!"

The warm clasp upon his fingers gave the mother's answer to this; and then they all moved within the lighted hall, where a glowing fire and a number of candles gave bright illumination, and where quite a hubbub of welcome was going on. The servants were pressing forward to see and greet their young master, who had come home crowned with laurels. It was known by this time in England how much of the success at Louisbourg had been due to Wolfe's unfailing energy and intrepidity. He was a hero at home as well as abroad, though he had hardly realized it yet. Moreover, he was vociferously welcomed by his dogs, all of whom had been brought by his mother to meet their master again; and he had much ado to return the manifold greetings bestowed upon him, and to free himself at last from the demonstrative affection of his canine friends.

A plentiful supper was awaiting the wearied travellers; and it was when they had put in order their dress and entered the dining room that they were aware of the presence of another lady, a very handsome, dark-eyed girl, who stood beside the glowing fire regarding their entrance with looks of unaffected interest.

"My dear," said Mrs. Wolfe, "let me present to you my son James, of whom you know much, although you have never met; and his friend and companion, Lieutenant Julian Dautray, whose name is equally known to you.

"This, James, is Miss Kate Lowther, the daughter of an old friend of ours, who has left her in my charge whilst he takes a last voyage to Barbados, where once he was Governor, to be my daughter and companion till he comes back to claim her."

The bright-eyed girl dropped a courtesy to the gentlemen, who bowed low before her; but then holding out her hand frankly to Wolfe, she said in a clear, fresh voice.

"I am so glad to see you, Cousin James. I am going to call you that because I call your mother Aunt, and she has given me leave to do so. I know so much about you from your letters. I have copied every one of them to send to your father, for Aunt will not part with the originals even for him! I know all about Louisbourg, and the batteries, and the ships, and the big guns. Oh, I think if I were a man I could become an officer at once, and command a great campaign like that one! We had such rejoicings here when the news came! it was like new life to us. We had heard of that dreadful defeat at Ticonderoga, and it seemed as though England was never to rise from the dust of humiliation. It was openly said that Louisbourg would never fall; that it was as impregnable as Quebec. Oh, there was such lugubrious talk! And then came the news of the victory, and of Brigadier Wolfe's valiant and doughty deeds. You may guess how your mother's eyes shone at that! And all England echoed to the sound of your name!"

"A name more formidable in sound than in reality," spoke Wolfe, laughing, but cheered and pleased by the sincere and pretty enthusiasm of the winning girl. "When those who have kindly admired me from the distance come to inspect me in person, what a shock they will receive! We shall have to palm Julian here off as the right man; he will play the part with much more dignity and grace."