Chapter XXIV: The Glorious Victory

The weeks went by and still Montcalm held Quebec, and the English invaders made little progress toward wresting it from him. Flags of truce often passed between the hostile camps.

"You will demolish the town, no doubt," said the bearer of one of them, "but you shall never get inside of it."

To which Wolfe replied:

"I will have Quebec if I stay here till the end of November."

Along the river from Montmorenci Falls to Point Levi there were frequent artillery fights between the English warships and the French batteries, while bands of Indians infested the outskirts of the English camps, killing and scalping the sentries at every opportunity.

The special duty of the Rangers was to attend to these red devils, and they did it nobly.

Seth was never idle. Had he needed any incitement to diligence and daring in meeting the assaults of the Indians, his admiration for General Wolfe and desire to merit his approval would have supplied it, and it was one of the proudest moments of his life when, on his return from a dash into the forest which had resulted in the despatching of a dozen Indians, and the taking of half as many prisoners, the General called him before him, and in the presence of his whole staff, said:

"I want to express to you, Lieutenant Allen, my appreciation of the very valuable service you and your Rangers are rendering. My own men know nothing about this forest fighting in which yours are so expert, and I would be well pleased if we had a much larger company of you than we have. When this business is over I will see to it that your excellent work receives due acknowledgment."

Seth heard this praise with heightened colour and throbbing pulses. No sweeter words had ever fallen upon his ears, and he was so moved that he found difficulty in making a brief response expressing his thanks for the commendation, and assuring the general that he would continue to serve him to the utmost of his ability.

Still the days grew into weeks, until autumn drew near without the defence of the city showing signs of weakening. A part of the English fleet had run the gauntlet of the French batteries and reached the upper river, so that the city was now exposed to attack from above and below as well as in front, but the unique strength of its situation enabled it even then to defy the invaders, who began to despair of accomplishing their object.

At last Wolfe determined upon attempting the desperate expedient of landing a force on the beach above Quebec, scaling the precipitous bluff to the Plains of Abraham, and thence advancing upon the city.

No sooner did this daring design come to Seth's knowledge than he resolved to have a part in the enterprise if he could, and he made haste to secure an interview with the general that he might prefer his request.

He found the great man engrossed in business, and had to wait long before he could obtain his ear, but when he did make known his desire, the kindly smile that lit up the commander's countenance augured well as to the nature of his reply.

"And so you are not content with having thus far escaped the scalping knives of your Indian friends, but hanker for further perils," he said in a bantering tone. "Do you realize what tremendous risks we are taking, and that there is a very good chance of our being cut to pieces, or taken prisoners?"

"That does not trouble me in the least," responded Seth brightly. "I only know that you intend to lead the attacking party yourself, and wherever you go I'm ready to go too."

Rising from his seat General Wolfe stepped up to Seth and laid his hand upon his shoulder, while he said, in a voice that shook with emotion, for he had been greatly depressed of late, and the New England youth's expression of loyal devotion had touched and cheered his heart:

"You're a brave, true lad. I appreciate and honor your noble feelings. You shall go with us."

Seth murmured his thanks and withdrew in a state of high elation. He would not then have changed places with any officer in the whole English army.

When Wolfe had gathered his men, whose total number fell short of five thousand, and the necessary boats and bateaux to transport them from the ships to the shore, he appointed the night for the venture.

On a call being made for volunteers to lead the soldiers up the heights Seth was among the first to respond, and only twenty-four being wanted he was glad to be accepted for the dangerous task.

It was a still dark night when the procession of boats carrying the vanguard of the English, followed by the ships with the remainder, borne on the current, steered silently down the St. Lawrence, and Seth in the foremost boat, sobered by a sense of the tremendous risk, speculated as to the chances of being alive twenty-four hours hence.

"We're bound to lose a good many of our men," he said to himself, "and maybe it will be my turn to fall. I've had a lot of narrow escapes and I suppose I can't count on always being so lucky. Well, there's no telling, and I'm not going to worry about it. I'll just do the best I can, and leave the rest to Providence."

As the boats neared their destination the tide bore them in toward the shore, and suddenly the silence was broken by the sharp "_qui vive_" of a French sentry invisible in the darkness.

Now Seth had put to good use the long months of his captivity at Montreal by acquiring a knowledge of the French language, having noticed what an advantage Major Rogers found his command of it to be, and so with quick wit he responded:

"_France._"

"_A quel regiment?_" the sentry demanded, being not altogether satisfied.

"_De la Reine_," answered Seth, because he knew that this corps was with Bougainville up the river, and the sentry, who was expecting a convoy of provisions from that direction, asked no more awkward questions.

But the danger from this source was not yet over. A little further on another vigilant sentry challenged, and ran down to the water's edge to get a better look at them. Seth, however, was equal to the occasion.

"Be quiet," he said, in a tone of reproof, "or the English will hear us. We have provisions for the army."

As an English war vessel lay at anchor not very far off the warning seemed well-founded, and the suspicions of the sentry being allayed, he, too, forebore to question further.

A few minutes later the boats rounded the headland above the Anse du Foulon, and were beached on the narrow strand at the foot of the heights.

Seth and his fellow-volunteers at once sprang ashore, and set about climbing the steep, tree-clothed ascent, being closely followed by a number of regulars.

It was a no less difficult than perilous task, and had the French above been on the alert they might easily have foiled the daring attempt, for the climbers could not have defended themselves, seeing that it required all their energies to work their way up.

Seth could not help thinking how easily a stalwart guardsman might drive them back single-handed, and it was with a very decided feeling of relief that at last, breathless and wellnigh spent, he reached the top unchallenged, and saw in the dim light a cluster of tents not far away.

As soon as the others had joined him, and they had caught their breath, they charged upon the tents, which, strange to say, were without a sentry, and the sleeping inmates, suddenly aroused, made little resistance, the most of them fleeing panic-stricken, while a few were taken prisoners.

Having thus become masters of the position the little band now hurrahed heartily, and the glad sound falling upon the ears of General Wolfe, anxiously waiting below, he at once gave the command for the remainder of the troops to follow, and up they went, some here and some there, clutching at trees and bushes, their muskets strung at their backs.

The general himself was one of the foremost to reach the top, although before starting he said to one of the officers:

"You can try it, but I don't think you'll get up."

By daybreak his battalions were drawn up in good order along the crest of the heights, and not being opposed they advanced thence to the Plains of Abraham, and formed their line of battle within a mile of the city.

So utterly unexpected was their appearance that the French were thrown into confusion for a time, and there were orders and counter-orders, misunderstanding, perplexity, and delay until at last Montcalm assumed the responsibility of proceeding to the attack.

Nearly two thousand Canadians and Indians acting as sharp-shooters fusilladed the English in front and flank, and many of their bullets caused gaps in the red lines until the soldiers were ordered to lie down on the grass so as to avoid the deadly fire.

Seth was thoroughly at home in this kind of fighting, and working his way to an advantageous position, he made every shot tell.

It was toward ten o'clock before the main body of the French advanced to the attack. They had formed themselves into three bodies, and they came on rapidly, uttering loud shouts, and firing as soon as they were within range.

Instead of returning the fire the English advanced a few rods, then halted, and stood still and silent until their antagonists were within forty paces of them, when the word of command rang out, and a crash of musketry answered all along the line.

The volley was delivered with remarkable precision, and when the smoke cleared away, its terrible effect was immediately manifest, for the ground was strewn with dead and wounded, while the advancing force had stopped short, and was turned into a frantic mob of shouting, cursing, gesticulating men.

The English commander was quick to see his opportunity and gave the order to charge. Then over the field rose the British cheer mingled with the fierce yell of the Highland slogan. Some of the corps pushed forward with the bayonet. Others continued to use their muskets, but the Highlanders drew their broadswords and charged furiously, making deadly play with their long, keen, weapons.

Seth, who had kept well to the front through it all, and had done his full share of the fighting, now found himself in close proximity to the general, who was leading the Louisbourg Grenadiers in the charge.

"He is too brave. He should not take such risks. He ought to let his officers do that for him," was the Ranger's comment, as he saw how recklessly Wolfe was exposing himself, for although the courage of it filled him with admiration, his shrewd common-sense told him that the commander-in-chief ought not to be exposed to the same dangers as his subordinates.

But Wolfe had no thought for himself. Victory at any cost, even that of his own life, was his one supreme object, and he pressed onward as though the routing of the enemy depended upon his personal efforts.

Presently a bullet struck him in the wrist, badly shattering it, but he simply wrapped his handkerchief about the wound, and kept on.

Again he was struck, yet still undaunted he continued to advance until a third shot lodged in his breast, and he staggered and sat down.

At once several officers, of whom Seth was one, hastened to his help, and bore him tenderly to the rear, where he begged them to lay him down.

They did so, and Seth asked if he should go in search of a surgeon.

"There's no need," answered Wolfe, in a tone of complete conviction, "it's all over with me."

A moment later Seth having turned to glance at the battlefield, called out, exultantly:

"They run, see how they run!"

"Who run?" Wolfe demanded like a man roused from sleep.

"The enemy, sir," responded Seth. "They're giving way everywhere."

"Go one of you to Colonel Burton," returned the great commander, not forgetting his duty even though his life-blood was fast ebbing, "tell him to march Webb's regiment down to the Charles River to cut off their retreat."

Then turning on his side, while the ghastly pallor of death overspread his features, he murmured:

"Now God be praised, I will die in peace," and passed away.

Profoundly moved Seth stayed by the body of the departed hero, saying to himself:

"What a pity! Why didn't he live to enjoy the glory of his victory! He shouldn't have led the charge. But it's too late now."

Meanwhile the exultant English swept on, driving their panic-stricken opponents before them almost up to the gates of the city through which the fugitives poured pell-mell, with their gallant commander Montcalm, mortally wounded, in their midst and supported in his saddle by a soldier on either side.

Wolfe's work was done, and he had paid for it with his own life. With the taking of Quebec the mastery of the continent passed into the hands of the English, and the dominion of the French ceased for all time.

When the joy over the victory and the sorrow over the death of Wolfe had in a measure moderated, a piece of news reached Seth that gave him keen satisfaction, and made him wish that it had been possible for him to be in two places at once.

This was that a strong force under the command of Lord Amherst had succeeded in wresting both Ticonderoga and Crown Point from the enemy, and that the whole region about the beautiful lakes was in possession of the English.

"And can you tell me how are Major Rogers and the Rangers?" Seth eagerly inquired of his informant.

"They're all right, so far as I know," was the satisfactory answer. "They did splendid work all through the campaign."

There being nothing for him to do in Canada Seth lost no time in rejoining his own leader, whom he found at Albany, enjoying a well-earned rest after his arduous services.

The meeting between the two friends was very cordial, and it took many hours of talk for them to tell each other of their experiences during their long separation.

The conclusion of the war rendering unnecessary the maintenance of the Rangers their commander returned to his more profitable occupation of trading, but Seth had grown too fond of a soldier's life to give it up, and accordingly he sought and obtained a commission in the regular army, where he ultimately rose to high rank by the exercise of those same qualities of self-control, steadfastness, and sagacity which had distinguished him when he was one of Rogers' Rangers.

END

End of Project Gutenberg's With Rogers on the Frontier, by J. Macdonald Oxley