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"I should not wonder," answered the Canadian dame, with a light laugh; "I am half disposed to think the same myself. His Majesty of France has not endeared himself to us these many years past. I should not be broken hearted to see a change of monarch." The boats pushed off, and Wolfe stood watching them on their way across the river.
The present head of the family, who represented it at the celebration of the tercentenary of the founding of Quebec, fought in Egypt for Queen Victoria; and the member of it who represented Wolfe on that occasion, in the pageant of the Quebec campaign, is an officer in the Canadian army under George V. The Wolfes are of an old and honourable line.
James Thomson, of the Royal Engineer Department, one of the followers of General Wolfe, who forty-two years previously to the application for the body had buried the General with his two Aides-de-Camp, Cheeseman and McPherson, beside him, where the military prison, near St. Lewis Gate, now stands. Sir John Sherbrooke was, at his own request, recalled. His health had been indifferent for some time.
The proposal carried conviction everywhere, and Lord Granville, who generally followed any strong lead, sent for the General. Charles George Gordon, born at Woolwich in 1833, was the scion of a staunch race of Scottish fighters. His great-grandfather served under Cope at Prestonpans; his grandfather fought in Boscawen's expedition at Louisburg and under Wolfe at Quebec.
Julian and Humphrey were with Wolfe, and had been his companions and best friends upon the voyage out. They had both obtained commissions, partly through the influence of the Brigadier; and were eager to see warfare. Julian had been Wolfe's nurse and attendant during the voyage, and the bond which now united them was a strong and tender one.
Montcalm knew what daring could accomplish, but even he had not dreamed of daring such as this. Wolfe, with a great soul kindled into flame by the resolve to achieve a feat almost beyond mortal limitations, dared it, and prevailed. Till the hour of action, he kept his troops far up the stream. By the 13th, all preparations were made.
Those of the grenadiers and Royal Americans who were left alive rowed for the Point of Orleans; the fifteenth regiment rowed for Point Levi; and the Highlanders, led by Wolfe himself, joined the column from beyond the Montmorenci, placing themselves in its rear as it slowly retired along the flats and across the ford, the Indians yelling and the French shouting from the heights, while the British waved their hats, daring them to come down and fight.
Wolfe knew what was meant; with the sagacity of a long-trained hunter, he made a desperate effort to gain the advantage by a circuitous route. Twice the stag turned irresolute, as if to face his foe, and Wolfe, taking the time, swam ahead, and then the race began.
On the south, it was bounded by the steep fall down to the Saint Lawrence; on the north, it sloped gradually down to the Saint Charles. Wolfe led his troops to this spot and formed them in line, across the plateau and facing the city. The right wing rested on the edge of the height, along the Saint Lawrence, but the left did not extend far enough to reach the slopes down to the Saint Charles.
I found my way onboard the Tigress, where every one was greatly excited, and in high feather regarding our victory, the biggest thing since Donelson. I also obtained some food and small comforts for a few rebel officers, including young Johnston, Wolfe, and the Colonel Deshler already mentioned.
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