French and English: A Story of the Struggle in America

Earthworks, batteries, redoubts seemed to bristle every where. Squadrons of men, like brilliant-hued ants, moved to and fro upon the plains below. The tents of the camp stretched out in endless white spots; and the river was dotted with small craft of all sorts conveying provisions to the camp, and doing transport duty of all kinds.

"He will be a bold man who faces the fire from our batteries, I think," said Montcalm, looking with a calm complacency upon the animated scene; and then he turned and pointed backwards behind him to Cape Diamond, fringed with its palisades and capped by parapet and redoubt.

A bold foe indeed to face the perils frowning from every height upon which the eye could rest. Madame Drucour's face slowly brightened as she took in, with eyes that were experienced in such matters, the full strength of the position occupied by the city of Quebec.

"In truth, I scarce see how the enemy could effect a landing anywhere-could even attempt it," she said. "And yet we said the same at Louisbourg-till they landed where none of us thought they could do, and took us in the rear!"

And her eyes sought the steep, precipitous banks of the river after the town had been passed, as though asking whether any landing could be effected there, if some ships should succeed in the daring attempt to pass the guns of the town, and find anchorage in the upper river.

Montcalm followed her glance with his, and seemed to read the thought in her heart.

"All these heights will be watched," he said. "Although I have no fear of any vessel being foolhardy enough to attempt the passage, or clever enough to succeed in passing the guns of the fortifications, I shall leave no point unwatched or unguarded. Quebec shall not fall whilst I have life and breath! If the victor marches into the city, it will be across my dead body!"

Later upon that very day a fresh excitement occurred. Madame Drucour and her niece and nephew were in the pleasant upper room of their house, talking over the things they had seen and heard that day, when the clamour in the street below roused them to the consciousness that something unwonted was afoot; and Colin ran below, eager to know what the matter could be. In a few minutes he returned, his face full of animation and eager interest.

"They have taken three prisoners!" he exclaimed- "English midshipmen all of them. You know our boats are scouting all round the Isle-aux-Coudres, where Durell and his contingent of ships from Louisbourg are lying waiting for the English fleet."

"Yes, yes," cried Corinne eagerly; "we know that! But where are the prisoners?"

"They are below, in the house. They brought them to the Abbe, our uncle. They profess not to speak French, these lads, but I think they understand it fast enough.

"Come down and hear their story, my aunt; and you also, Corinne. They have been left in our care by the order of Monsieur de Montcalm, that we may win from them all that they know, respecting the strength of the English fleet. Let us go and hear what they say."

"How came they to be taken?" asked Madame Drucour, as she rose to accompany Colin.

"They were taken on shore. They had left their ship, perhaps without leave, and were amusing themselves upon the island. The men in our boat watched them, and presently landed cautiously and surrounded them. They made a gallant struggle, but were captured at length. And now they have been brought to us that we may get from them all the information we can. Our uncle is talking to them even now. I want to hear, and I want Corinne also to hear what they say."

"And the poor lads will doubtless be hungry," said Madame Drucour, always thoughtful for the comfort of others; "we will set food before them as they talk. They shall see that we are not harsh captors."

It was three bright-faced, bronzed English lads that they found in the lower room with the good Abbe. He had induced the rest of the people to disperse, and was now alone with the captives. The lads seemed quite disposed to be talkative, and when the lady entered bearing food, their eyes brightened; they stood up and made their bows to all, and fell upon the victuals with a hearty goodwill.

"Strong! I should think it was strong," cried the eldest of the three, in response to a question from the Abbe respecting the English squadron on the way: "why, there are more than thirty ships of the line, and with frigates, sloops-of-war, and transports they must number over fifty. Then we have ten fine ships under Admiral Durell, waiting to join the main fleet when it comes; and there is another squadron under Admiral Holmes, which has gone to New York to take up the troops mustered in New England for the reduction of Quebec. Oh, it will be a grand sight, a grand sight, when it comes sailing up the waters of the St. Lawrence! Quebec, I dare wager, has never seen such a sight before!"

The faces of all the lads were full of animation and pride. They appeared to have no fears for their personal safety. They were enthusiastic in their descriptions of the wonderful feats which the world would soon see, and when once started on the subject were ready to talk on and on.

"They have fifteen or sixteen thousand men-picked troops-with the gallant Wolfe in command," cried another. "You have seen something already of what Wolfe can do when he is set upon a task!"

Madame Drucour made a little sign of assent; she had learned that lesson herself very fully. The lad made her a courtly bow, for he knew her well, having been at the siege of Louisbourg, and having seen her when he had entered the fortress to view it after the surrender.

"Madame Drucour is herself a soldier; she can appreciate the talents of the soldiers," he said. "Well, we have Wolfe coming, and with him three gallant Brigadiers-Moncton and Townshend and Murray. They all say that each one of these is as valiant as the great Wolfe himself, and as full of ardour."

"And then our guns!" chimed in the third. "Why, we have guns enough to batter down these old walls as children batter down their card houses! You know what English guns did at Louisbourg, Madame! Well, we have bigger and heavier ones coming from England-such guns as have never been seen in this country before; and such shells-why, you can hear the scream of them for miles. You will hear them soon singing and screaming over Quebec if you try to hold it against Wolfe!"

Corinne and Colin exchanged glances. It seemed indeed to bring the thought of war very near when this sort of talk went on. The Abbe was thoughtfully stroking his chin, debating within himself whether all this was a bit of gasconade on the part of these middies, or whether it represented the actual facts of the case. Madame Drucour made quiet answer, saying:

"But Quebec has also its guns, my young friends; Quebec can make fitting reply to English guns. And ships are more vulnerable than our thick walls. The game of war is one that both nations can play with skill and success. If you have a Wolfe on your side, we have a Montcalm on ours!"

"Oh yes; we have heard of the Marquis of Montcalm. He is a fine old fellow; I wish we could see him."

"You have your wish, gentlemen!" spoke a new voice from the shadowy corner by the door, where the twilight was gathering.

The company started to their feet and saluted the great man, who advanced smiling, motioning them to be seated. Corinne kindled the lamp, and the General looked about him and sat down at the table opposite to the three youths.

"I hear you are from the English squadron," he said; "I have come to ask you as to its strength. Tell me frankly and candidly what you know, and I will undertake that your captivity shall not be a rigorous one."

He spoke in French, and the Abbe interpreted, although he suspected that the lads understood a good deal more of that language than they professed to do. They were willing enough to repeat what they had said before as to the overwhelming size and equipment of the fleet on its way from England-of the valour of men and officers, of Wolfe's known intrepidity and military genius, and of the excellent, far-carrying guns and their equally excellent gunners.

Montcalm listened with bent brow and thoughtful mien. The lads appeared to speak with confidence and sincerity. They evidently believed that the fall of Quebec was foreordained of Heaven; but it was possible they might be misinformed as to the true strength of the fleet, and had perhaps, consciously or unconsciously, exaggerated that.

At any rate they were not reticent: they told everything they knew and perhaps more. They gloried in the thought of the fighting to come, and seemed to take their own captivity very lightly, evidently thinking it only a matter of a few weeks before they could be exchanged or released-before their countrymen would be marching into Quebec.

"And as soon as General Amherst has got Ticonderoga, he will march here to help us, if we are not masters here first!" was the final shot of the senior midshipman. "Not that Wolfe will need his help in the taking of Quebec, but he will want a share in the glory of it. And all New England, and all those provinces which have been asleep so long, are waking up, eager to take their share now that the moment of final triumph is near. There are so many fine troops waiting to embark that Admiral Holmes will probably have to leave the half behind. But they will follow somehow, you will see. They are thirsting to avenge themselves upon the Indians, and upon those who set the Indians on to harry and destroy their brothers along the borders!"

The Abbe translated this also into French, making a little gesture with his hand the while.

"I knew that retribution must sooner or later follow upon that great sin," he said. "Were it not for my feeling on that score, I should have firmer hopes for Quebec. But God will not suffer iniquity to go long unpunished. We have drawn down retribution upon our own heads!"

Montcalm made a gesture similar to that of the Abbe.

"I have said so myself many a time," he replied. "I hated and abhorred the means we have too often used. It may be that what you say is right and just. And yet I know that I shall not live to see Quebec in the hands of the English. I can die for my country, and I am willing to do so; but I cannot and I will not surrender!"

"So they said at Louisbourg," muttered one of the midshipmen to Colin, showing how easily he understood what was passing; "but they sang to a different tune when they had heard the music of our guns long enough!"

The Marquis was talking aside with the Abbe and Madame Drucour. When the colloquy was over, the Abbe addressed the midshipmen.

"Monsieur de Montcalm is willing to release you on parole, and my sister, Madame Drucour, will permit you to remain in this house during your stay in the city. You must give up your dirks, and pass your word not to try to escape; but after having done this, you will be free to come and go as you will. And if the English should take prisoners of our French subjects, you shall be exchanged upon the first opportunity. These are the terms offered you by Monsieur de Montcalm as the alternative to an imprisonment which would be sorely irksome to youths such as you."

The lads looked at one another. It was a promise rather hard to give, since there would be so many excellent opportunities for escape; but the thought of imprisonment in some gloomy subterranean portion of the fortress, even with the faint chance of effecting an escape from thence, was too sombre and repelling. They accepted the lenient terms offered, passed their word with frank sincerity, and handed over their weapons with a stifled sigh.

"We will show you the city tomorrow," said Colin, when he took their guests up to the lofty where they were to sleep in company. "My sister and I are half English ourselves. I sometimes think that in her heart of hearts Corinne would like to see the English flag floating over the towers of Quebec."

"Hurrah for Mademoiselle Corinne!" cried the lad Peter, throwing his cap into the air. "I thought you two looked little like the dark-skinned Frenchies! We shall be friends then, and when the town falls we will take care that no harm comes to you. But we mean to have Quebec; so you may make up your mind to that!"

Chapter 3: Mariners Of The Deep

"I must go! I must go!" shouted Colin, bursting into the house, mad with excitement and impetuosity.

"My uncle, you will let me go! I must see this great and mighty fleet for myself. They say it is coming up the mighty river's mouth. Some say it will be wrecked ere it reach the Isle of Orleans! Let me go and see it, I pray, and I will return and tell you all."

The whole city was in a ferment. For long weeks had the English fleet been watched and waited for-for so long, indeed, that provisions were already becoming a little scarce within the town, in spite of the convoy which had arrived earlier in the year. So many mouths were there to feed that the question of supply was causing anxiety already. Still with care there was enough to last for a considerable time. Only the delay of the English vessels had upset the calculations of the men in charge of the commissariat department, and the people had to be put upon rations, lest there should be a too quick consumption of the stores.

This had caused a little murmuring and discontent, and the long waiting had tried the citizens more than active work would have done. It had given Montcalm time to fortify his camp very strongly, and make his position all that he desired; but it had been a wearisome time to many, and the Canadian troops were already discontented, and wearying to get away from the life of the camp, back to their own homes and fields and farms.

But now hot midsummer had come, and with it the. English foe. A fast-sailing sloop had brought word that the junction of the squadrons was taking place just off Cape Tourmente, and Colin was wild to take boat and go to see the great ships.

"They are saying that they must all be wrecked in trying to navigate the Traverse," cried the boy; "but Peter and Paul and Arthur laugh to scorn the notion, and say that we do not know what sort of men the English mariners are. Some say that Admiral Durell has already captured the pilots who live there, ready to take the French ships up and down. Let me go and learn what is happening. Let me take a boat, and take Peter and Paul and Arthur with me. They know how to manage one as well as any sailor in the town. Let us go, my uncle, and bring you word again."

The boy was set on it; he could not be withheld. Moreover, the Abbe and Madame Drucour were keenly anxious for news.

"Be careful, my boy, be cautious," he said; "run not into danger. But I think thou art safe upon the river with those lads. You will take care of one another, and bring us word again what is happening."

"Oh, I will come back safe and sound, never fear for me!" answered the boy, in great delight. "We will bring you news, never fear! We will see all that is to be seen. Oh, I am glad the day of waiting is over, and that the day for fighting has come!"

"Would that I were a boy like you, Colin!" cried Corinne, with sparkling eyes. "It is hard to be cooped up in the city when there are such stirring things going on outside. But I will up to the heights and watch for the sight of sails; and you will come back soon, Colin, and tell us all the news."

Nevertheless it was a hard task for the eager girl to remain behind when her brother and their three merry friends went forth in search of news.

By this time the English midshipmen were quite at home in their new home, and the blithest of companions for the brother and sister there. They did much to foster the sympathies of Colin and Corinne for the English cause. The boys told of England and the life there, and were so full of enthusiasm for their country that it was almost impossible not to catch something of the contagion of their mood. Both Colin and his sister had seen much to disgust and displease them amongst the French; whilst round their foes there seemed to be a sort of halo of romance and chivalry which appealed to the imaginative strain in both brother and sister.

Their British blood could not fail to be stirred within them. They saw and heard of corruption, chicanery, and petty jealousy all round them here. It was hardly to be wondered at that they inclined to the other side. England and Scotland were uniting together for the conquest of this Western world. Their mother's countrymen were fighting the battle. They had the right to wish them success.

Corinne rehearsed all this to herself as she stood upon the lofty heights behind the town that afternoon with her uncle and aunt. They were looking with anxiety and grave misgivings at the clustering sails dimly seen in the distance upon the shining water of that vast estuary. Montcalm himself had come up to see, and stood with his telescope at his eye, watchful and grave.

"We have made a mistake," he said to the Abbe in a low voice. "I did speak to the Governor once; but he was against the measure, and we permitted it to drop. But I can see now it was a mistake. We should have planted a battery-a strong one-upon Cape Tourmente, and bombarded the ships as they passed by. We trusted to the dangerous navigation of the Traverse, but we made a mistake: English sailors can go anywhere!"

The Abbe made a sign of assent. He remembered now how the General had made this suggestion to the Governor, and pressed it with some ardour, but had been met with opposition at every point. Vaudreuil had declared that it would weaken the town to bring out such a force to a distant point; that they must concentrate all their strength around the city; that they would give the enemy the chance of cutting their army in two. Montcalm had yielded the point. There was so much friction between him and the Governor that he had to give way where he could. Vaudreuil was always full of grand, swelling words, and boasts of his great deeds and devotion; but men were beginning to note that when face to face with real peril he lost his nerve and self confidence, and had to depend upon others. It was thus that he opposed Montcalm (of whose superior genius and popularity he was bitterly jealous) at every turn when danger was still distant, but turned to him in a fluster of dismay when the hour of immediate peril had come, and had been made more perilous by his own lack of perception and forethought whilst things were less imminent.

"Yet look at our lines of defence!" he exclaimed, after he had finished all the survey he could make of the distant sails crowded about the Isle of Orleans. "Where could any army hope to land along this northern shore? Let them fire as they like from their ships; that will not hurt us. And we can answer back in a fashion that must soon silence them. The heights are ours; the town is safely guarded. The summer is half spent already. Let us but keep them at bay for two months, and the storms of the equinox will do the rest. When September comes, then come the gales-and indeed they may help us at any time in these treacherous waters. You mariners of England, you are full of confidence and skill-I am the last to deny it-but the elements have proved stronger than you before this, and may do so again."

Corinne listened to all this with a beating heart, and asked of her aunt:

"What think you that they will first do-the English, I mean?"

"Probably land and make a camp upon the Isle of Orleans, which has been evacuated. A camp of some sort they must have, and can make it there without damage to us. It will make a sort of basis of operations for them; but I think they will be sorely puzzled what to do next. They cannot get near the city without exposing themselves to a deadly fire which they cannot return-for guns fired low from ships will not even touch our walls or ramparts-and any attempt along the shore by Beauport will be repulsed with heavy loss."

"Yet they will do something, I am sure," spoke the girl, beneath her breath; and she was more sure still of this when upon the morrow Colin returned, all aglow with excitement and admiration, whilst the three midshipmen had much ado to restrain their whoops of joy and triumph.

"I never saw such a thing!" cried Colin, his face full of delight and enthusiasm, as he and the midshipmen got Corinne to themselves, and could talk unrestrainedly together; "I feel as though I could never take sides against the English again! If they are all such men as that old sailing master Killick, methinks the French have little chance against them."

"Hurrah for old Killick! hurrah for England's sailors!" cried the midshipmen, as wildly excited as Colin himself; and Corinne pressed her hands together, and looked from one to the other, crying:

"Oh tell me! what did he do?"

"I'll tell you!" cried Colin. "You have heard them speak of the Traverse, and what a difficult place it is to navigate?"

"Yes: Monsieur de Montcalm was saying that no vessel ever ventured up or down without a pilot; but he said that a rumour had reached him that some pilots had been taken prisoners, and that the English ships would get up with their help."

"With or without!" cried Peter, tossing his cap into the air. "As though English sailors could not move without Frenchmen to help them!"

"Some of them took pilots aboard; indeed they were sent to them, and had no choice. But I must not get confused, and confuse you, Corinne. I'll just tell you what we did ourselves.

"We heard a great talk going on on board one of the transport boats called the Goodwill, which was almost in the van of the fleet, I suppose because the old sailing master, Killick, was so good a seaman; and so they had sent a pilot out to her, and he was jabbering away at a great rate-"

"Just like all the Frenchies!" cut in Paul; "calling out that he would never have acted pilot to an English ship except under compulsion, and declaring that it was a dismal tale the survivors would take to their own country-that Canada should be the grave of the whole army, and the St. Lawrence should bury beneath its waves nine-tenths of the British ships, and that the walls of Quebec should be lined with English scalps!"

"The wretch!" cried Corinne. "I wonder the sailors did not throw him overboard to find his own grave!"

"I verily believe they would have done so, had it not been for strict orders from the Admiral that the pilots were to be well treated," answered Arthur. "Our English Admirals and officers are all like that: they will never have any advantage taken of helpless prisoners."

"I know, I know!" answered Corinne quickly; "that is where they teach the French such a lesson. But go on-tell me more. What about old Killick? and where were you all the while?"

"Holding on to the side of the transport, where we could see and hear everything, and telling the sailors who were near about Quebec and what was going on there. But soon we were too much interested in what was going on aboard to think of anything else.

"Old Killick roared out after a bit, 'Has that confounded French pilot done bragging yet?' And when somebody said he was ready to show them the passage of the Traverse, he bawled out:

"'What! d'ye think I'm going to take orders from a dog of a Frenchman, and aboard my own vessel, too? Get you to the helm, Jim, and mind you take no orders from anybody but me. If that Frenchman tries to speak, just rap him on the head with a rope's end to keep him quiet!'

"And with that he rolled to the forecastle with his trumpet in his hand, and got the ship under way, bawling out his instructions to his mate at the wheel, just as though he had been through the place all his life!"

"Had he ever been there before?" asked Corinne breathlessly.

"No, never. I heard the commanding officer and some of the gentlemen on board asking him, and remonstrating; but it was no use.

"'Been through before! no, never,' he cried; 'but I'm going through now.'

"Then they told him that not even a French vessel with an experienced sailing master ever dared take the passage without a pilot, even though he might know it well. Whereupon old Killick patted the officer upon the back, and said, 'Ay, ay, my dear, that's right enough for them; but hang me if I don't show you all that an Englishman shall go at ease where a Frenchman daren't show his nose! Come along with me, my dear, and I'll show you this dangerous passage.'

"And he led him forward to the best place, giving his orders as cool and unconcerned as though he had been in the Thames itself. The vessel that followed, hearing what was going on, and being afraid of falling into some peril herself, called out to know who the rash sailing master was. 'I am old Killick!" roared back the bold old fellow himself, hearing the question, 'and that should be enough for you!'