At
Quebec the British now prepared for a long and stern
winter. They were full of joy and thanksgiving for
their great success. 'Let us now Sing unto the Lord
a new Song,' wrote Quartermaster-Sergeant Johnson, '
for he has done marvellous things for us this day :
his Right hand, and his holy arm hath gotten us the
victory. . . . Let us look through the Annals of
Antiquity :様et us Search the records of former
Ages, and see whether we can find so great a
Conquest in so short a time, by so small a number of
Men.' On the 23rd the field of battle was the scene
of a thanksgiving service. On the 27th the Ursuline
Chapel, the only one left intact in Quebec, was used
for a similar purpose. A naval chaplain, the Rev.
Elie Dawson, preached a sermon which shows how the
glory of Wolfe was already regarded. ' Ye Mountains
of Abraham, decorated with his trophies, tell how
plainly ye opposed him when he mounted your lofty
Heights with the Strength and Swiftness of an eagle
: Stand fixed upon your rocky Base, and speak his
Name and Glory to all future generations ! ' Again,
a week later, when the town had been regularly
occupied, the victors offered in the same chapel
renewed thanksgivings. With fine impartiality some
of the French inhabitants attended this service. The
good nuns of the Ursuline Convent must have been
shocked at the desecration by heretics of their
house of prayer ; but, during the winter, Protestant
and Roman Catholic services continued to be held in
the same structure. In England a special form of
prayer and thanksgiving was issued for use in the
churches with the petition that the ' haughty
adversaries' might ' confess and amend the injurious
behaviour of which they have been guilty '. ' The
Lord God of Israel fought for Israel,' said a
preacher, Mr. Townley, at St. Paul's. To him the
enemies of England were assuredly the enemies of the
Lord.
Delighted as were the victors with their conquest,
they still had doubts whether it would not be wise
to destroy Quebec. To defend, without the aid of a
fleet, a ruined fortress, in a hostile country, and
in face of the rigours of a Canadian winter, was
assuredly no light task. The generals and the
admirals debated the matter in a council of war and
reached the conclusion to defend to the last what
Wolfe had so laboriously won. There was a great
extent of wall to be protected and for such a task
it would be necessary to leave at Quebec every
available soldier. On September 24 the British
muster roll showed an army of 8,504 men, all told,
but of these only 5,707 were, at the moment, fit for
duty. In the end only a few grenadiers; rangers, and
artillery men were sent away, and Quebec was left
with 7,313 defenders of all ranks to face the winter
and the enemy. [The regiments left at Quebec were
the 15th, 28th, 35th, 43rd, 47th, 48th, 58th, 60th,
and 78th. In addition there were the men of the
Royal Artillery. The 60th Regiment contained two
battalions of colonial troops (Royal Americans) ;
there were besides 100 Colonial Rangers.]
The
town once occupied, not a moment was lost in getting
ready for the winter. The British evacuated the
posts at the Point of Levy and the Island of
Orleans, which Wolfe had used as his bases. On the
night of the i8th, not without difficulty, they put
a force across the St. Charles and occupied the
redoubt where a few days before the Chevalier
Johnstone had found such confusion in the French
counsels. It was taken with the exchange of only a
few shots. The victors lost no time in sending home
the French troops who had surrendered. They were
embarked promptly in four ships and, a few days
after the fall of Quebec, they set sail for France,
no doubt much to their joy. To some of them, because
of their sin of failure, the mother country gave a
stern welcome. Ramezay, in particular, had to meet
bitter attacks and to endure shame and poverty for
the loss of Quebec. Vaudreuil, who had instructed
him to surrender the fortress, sent home an official
letter blaming him for carrying out these
instructions.
Since
there seemed to be no anchorage in the river where,
during the winter, large ships would be safe from
destruction by ice, Admiral Saunders made ready to
sail away with his whole fleet. Before departing the
transports unloaded vast quantities of stores. In
the Lower Town the Intendant's Palace, a stately
building which greatly impressed the victors, became
the chief depot for supplies, while in the Upper
Town the large Jesuits' College was used in part for
a similar purpose. The Jesuits remaining in the
place were few in number. At first the British took
three-fourths of the building and a little later
they took it all. The task of unloading the stores
involved heavy labour. There were almost no horses
in Quebec, and to reach the Upper Town the men had
to drag the casks and bags up a very steep hill. In
addition, since the cannon found at Quebec were worn
out and almost useless, the victors had to disembark
artillery and place it in proper position. Some of
the streets were so nearly impassable from the
debris of fallen houses that it was a heavy
preliminary labour to clear them for traffic. There
was 'not a man', writes General Murray, 'but was
constantly employed.'
Until
the preliminary work was done the army remained on
the Plains of Abraham. On September 29, however, the
troops marched into Quebec. The officers drew lots
for quarters in the ruined houses and the
accommodation was
QUEBEC IN 1760
primitive enough. Captain Knox tells us that to him
fell a shed used as a cart-house and stable ; for
ceiling he had only a few loose boards and above him
was a hay-loft; but a little carpentry wrought
wonders, and with a good stove he was able, as
winter advanced, to fight the cold successfully. He
thought, however, that he would have been more
comfortable in a tent. Captain John Montresor
secured a roofless house and at first had not a
single board for the needed repairs. But he could
look after himself ; he took what timber he needed
from a house too far gone to be lived in, and a
couple of carpenters soon gave him a roof over his
head. If officers were lodged so ill the lot of the
private soldier was hard indeed. His quarters were
bad ; so also was his bedding ; and for food he soon
had little but salted provisions. Moreover, since
the Government had failed to send out money with
which to pay the army, the private soldier had no
means to purchase small additions to his comfort.
For him, as chill winter drew on, the outlook was
grim and the result was to prove tragic.
Monckton, disabled by his wound, was ordered to a
milder climate; Townshend went home; and the command
at Quebec devolved on Brigadier-General Murray, with
Colonel Burton as his second in command. In the
early days of October the preparations for the
sailing of the fleet were completed. When, on the
10th, a portion of it was ready, the departing ships
saluted the garrison with twenty-one guns, return
courtesies boomed out from the batteries on the
shore, and the squadron proceeded on its homeward
way. The other ships soon followed. A part of the
fleet was to remain at Halifax under Lord Colville
for the winter. Two sloops of war, the Racehorse and
the Porcupine, and three small armed vessels
remained at Quebec, puny evidence of Britain's might
upon the sea. For the time the naval strength of
France on the St. Lawrence was greater than that of
Britain. The few French frigates, which had reached
Canada in the spring early enough to avoid the
British fleet, had gone up the river beyond Quebec.
Saunders, to his great regret, had been unable to
reach them and they remained a source of
considerable anxiety to the British. It was no doubt
with many misgivings that Murray saw the British
ships disappear behind the Island of Orleans.
Colville was to come back at the first possible
moment in the spring, but for six months Murray
would be cut off from succour by the sea. Between
him and any chance of aid by land from England's
American colonies lay many miles of well nigh virgin
forest, the water pathways of which would soon be
held in the iron grasp of winter.
James
Murray, the officer now left to defend Quebec, was
the fifth and youngest son of a Scottish peer, the
fourth Lord Elibank. The first bearer of the title
had held to Charles I during the Civil War and the
Scottish peerage of Elibank was his reward. A few
years later this ancestor had been one of the
Scottish peers who opposed the surrender of Charles
by the Scots to the English Parliament. The loyalty
of the Murrays to the Stuarts in the seventeenth
century was continued in the eighteenth. Long after
the defeat of the second Pretender the family was
supposed to be tainted with Jacobitism, and Horace
Walpole declared that if a Stuart could have
displaced George III in England the then Lord
Elibank would have won prompt recognition for
services in a second Restoration. Perhaps the
knowledge of this suspicion helped to make James
Murray especially zealous. The date of his birth is
uncertain, but he was now about forty years old. His
father had wished him to be an advocate, but he had
run away from home and had enlisted in the
Scots-Dutch brigade in Holland. For the time his
family lost sight of him. It happened, however, a
few years later, that a friend of the family, who
saw the changing of the guard at Bergen-op-Zoom, was
astonished when he recognized in a smart-looking
young non commissioned officer the missing member of
the house of Murray. He soon returned to England and
entered the army, this time as an officer. When,
long after, he reached the rank of General, he was
able to say that he had served in every degree in
the army but that of drummer. In spite of his own
complaints to the contrary, he had made a fairly
rapid advance. Wolfe, under whom he had served as a
Brigadier, was, however, his junior in years. Murray
was keen葉oo keen as the event proved葉o win by
daring service fame like that which made Wolfe's
name for ever glorious.
In
Murray's family there was both wit and resolution.
The resolution was mingled sometimes with the
bravado that gained for them the nick-name of 'The
Windy Murrays'. James Murray's brother Patrick, Lord
Elibank, transformed, by a fortunate marriage, from
a poor into a rich Scottish peer, was among those
who welcomed Dr. Johnson on his famous Scottish
journey. To Johnson's insolent note in his
dictionary that oats is 'a grain, which in England
is generally given to horses, but in Scotland
supports the people', Elibank made the well-known
retort: 'And where will you find such men and such
horses?' Elibank moved in the literary society of
the time at Edinburgh; he was the patron of the
historian Robertson and of the poet Home, and was
regarded as a choice spirit by men like David Hume,
Adam Smith, and Adam Fergusson. Johnson once said,
'I never was in Lord Elibank's company without
learning something'. At the 'Select Society' in
Edinburgh he met in debate on equal terms the
brilliant Charles Townshend, brother of Townshend,
the General who commanded at Quebec after Wolfe's
fall. Alexander Murray, another brother, took up the
role of a political agitator and, having attacked
the Government in the spirit that, a little later,
made John Wilkes famous, was ordered in 1751, by the
House of Commons, to kneel at the bar to receive
censure for inciting to riot in London. He answered
defiantly, 'I beg to be excused; I never kneel but
to God.' When the Speaker pressed him, he answered
firmly, 'Sir, I am sorry I cannot comply with your
request. I would do anything else.' For his
inflexible pride in defying the House he was
committed to Newgate, and, though his physician
declared that the confinement imperilled his life,
he refused to accept the partial release of going
out in the custody of the sergeant-at-arms; his
brother, who had petitioned for his freedom, he
declared to be a mean and paltry puppy. Alexander
Murray's tough nature survived the poisonous air of
Newgate, and when, on the adjournment of the House,
the Sheriffs of London released him, he was escorted
by a great concourse of people through the streets
under a banner inscribed, 'Murray and Liberty'. The
House pursued him still and he spent many years in
exile. Amid the heated passions of the time such an
obstreperous and defiant brother can have done no
good to the military prospects of the commander at
Quebec.
James
Murray was, however, well able to take care of
himself. In 1759 he was a tried soldier, who had
seen service in Europe, in the West Indies, and,
with distinction, in the previous year at Louisbourg.
He was ardent, high-spirited, and fearless; he had a
thorough knowledge of the art of war and the ability
and good sense to use his knowledge well. He
possessed a fine courtesy of manner. The French
officers, his foes, thought him an agreeable
companion; 'although he is our enemy, I am unable to
speak too well of him,' wrote Malartic, a French
officer, to his leader Levis. Murray was always
paying gracious compliments to the courage of his
opponents. For the hardships of his own troops he
showed a manly sympathy, and the Canadians found the
stern resolution of the soldier in harrying their
villages tempered by the humane regret of the man
who felt for their sufferings. His 'military
talents, added to intrepid rage and resolution, made
him both feared and admired', wrote Johnson, one of
his non-commissioned officers. Murray was impatient
of opposition and quick tempered, but quick also to
regret the hasty action or words of a moment of
anger. While an impulsive generosity was one of his
most striking characteristics, the thirst to emulate
the glory of Wolfe was one of his chief failings.
There were no chances that he would not take to win
fame. He possessed, says Lieutenant Malcolm Fraser,
one of his officers, all the military virtues except
prudence.
Murray tried to draw the French into making a truce
for the winter, but against this they were firm. To
consent to such an agreement, with the British in
possession of the strongest position in the country,
would have enabled this enemy to draw support from
the inhabitants, and would have been regarded by the
world at large as only preliminary to final
surrender. The defeated army hoped, not without
reason, that isolation in a hostile country, the
rigour of the coming winter, disease, and the
absence of a fleet would so weaken the British as to
make their destruction possible before
reinforcements should come in the spring. The French
counted upon their Indian allies- to help make life
a burden to the British. Some French officers still
had high hopes of success. Letters sent to Quebec on
the chance that they might in some way be forwarded
to France were intercepted by Murray, and one
evening at dinner, much to the chagrin of a French
officer who was present, he read aloud one of these
epistles. 'Quebec has indeed fallen,' it said, 'but
we have excellent means for retaking it this
winter葉he cold, the Canadians, and the Indians.'
It
seemed probable that if the French campaign should
resolve itself into a siege of Quebec the fortress
would fall. It was in no condition to withstand a
vigorous attack.
Wolfe
had indeed, found to his cost that Quebec was strong
on the side of the river. To try to scale the
heights, in face of a defending force, was, as Major
Mackellar, the chief of the engineer corps, had
proved to Wolfe, to invite destruction, for the
ascent of the cliff could easily be so guarded that
probably not a single assailant would escape. None
the less, Quebec was really weak; but the danger
came from the landward side. Long after, when Murray
had had the experience of three years in defending
Quebec, he declared that it was badly placed, that
the situation never could be strong, and that the
attempt to make it so would cost an immense sum.
A
high ridge on the adjacent Plains of Abraham swept
the whole line of defence. A thin wall, built for
protection against attack by Indians, stretched
inward from Cape Diamond, the cliff overlooking the
St. Lawrence, to the suburb of St. Roch. This wall,
as we have seen, was too weak to withstand a
vigorous cannonade. Already there were many breaches
in the feeble defences. Montcalm had preferred to
fight in front of rather than behind the walls.
Murray now repaired the breaches, opened embrasures,
and mounted some guns. His men were soon busy
erecting a row of block-houses at the distance of a
musket-shot outside the walls, both to keep an enemy
from occupying the high ground which commanded them
and to prevent surprise. But Murray had no
confidence in these defences except as against light
field artillery and musketry. Major Mackellar indeed
advised him to throw up entrenchments on the Plains
of Abraham and to trust to them rather than to the
walls until reinforcements should arrive in the
spring. It was Murray's fixed resolve, if a French
force should attack Quebec, to carry out this
policy, and not to stay behind the walls. Nothing
could indicate more clearly his conviction that
Quebec was really weak.
When
the British were once securely in Quebec the
Canadians accepted the inevitable with cheerfulness.
On September 21, in obedience to a military order,
the farmers and other inhabitants within a radius of
nine miles of the fortress flocked to the town to
take an oath to be faithful to King George, and not
to arm against him or to be a party to anything that
might injure him. On the next day, September 22,
Murray issued a manifesto telling the inhabitants
that the British had come not to ruin them but to
give them mild and just government. They should be
secure, he promised, in their property and in the
exercise of their religion. As far as possible he
disarmed the inhabitants of the parishes. So docile
were they that they seemed to him pleased with the
change of rulers. Levis wrote in his journal with a
touch of bitterness: 'The inhabitants of the
Government of Quebec appear to accommodate
themselves to the English.' Murray reported on
January 30, 1760, that six thousand Canadians had
taken the oath of fidelity and brought in their
arms. As there were only about sixty or seventy
thousand Canadians of all ages and of both sexes in
the country, these six thousand must have included
nearly the whole adult male population in the
district of Quebec. Murray employed some of them
with their horses and sleighs to bring in wood;
others he employed as artificers. All were paid for
their work.
Though some of the Canadians near Quebec were in a
half-starving condition, they still had. fresh
vegetables; the English, on the other hand, had an
abundance of biscuit and of salt meat; and exchanges
were effected with mutual advantage. The British
soldiers were soon on friendly terms with the
habitants, and shared their provisions and even
their slender allowance of rum with their new
friends. It was the season of the harvest, and
Captain Knox writes that on one day he saw more than
twenty soldiers assisting the French in the labours
of the harvest near Quebec. The work was done with
no thought of reward; when asked what pay was
expected, one of the soldiers said: 'It would be
rank murder to take anything from the poor devils,
for they have lost enough already.' This pitying
attitude softened the asperities of war. As a
military measure the British had ruthlessly
destroyed houses and villages in the territory which
they held; and, not without reason, the Canadians
had been taught to look upon them as barbarians. Now
they found generous traits in the new-comers who
were to remain the masters of Canada.
All
the British soldiers, it is true, were not
conspicuous for humanity and generosity. On the day
of the surrender of Quebec reports of outrages on
the Canadians reached Townshend. He promptly offered
a reward of five guineas for the discovery of the
offenders. A few days later, when some women at the
Point of Levy complained of robbery and outrage by
soldiers encamped there, the several detachments
were paraded that the women might identify the
offenders. They declared that it was not those
wearing the ordinary military dress, but les gens
sans culottes who were guilty. This pointed to the
Highlanders, and the offenders were promptly
detected and punished. The incident was unusual;
during the operations in Canada the Highlanders had
been remarkable for humanity and steadiness. Their
strange appearance and dress, however, frightened
the French, who nicknamed them les sauvages d'Ecosse葉he
Scotch savages.
Murray soon found that to make an effective defence
he must do more than hold Quebec. To ensure the
health of his troops he required access to the
supplies of fresh provisions in the neighbouring
villages. Moreover, a large quantity of fire-wood
would be necessary during the winter and, in
consequence, the British must control some areas of
forest. Above all, the Canadians and also the
Indians must be kept as far from Quebec as possible,
for they were dangerous neighbours. When the British
first occupied the town the French sent in hostile
scouting parties, which made the roads unsafe. Bands
of savages, disguised sometimes as wild animals,
came up almost to the walls, and committed numerous
outrages. To ensure safety the British found it
necessary to occupy all the approaches to Quebec.
Murray planned, indeed to extend his outposts so as
to keep the French army beyond the River Jacques
Cartier. He was forced, however, to adopt a course
less ambitious, and to place his farthest outpost at
Lorette, not on the plateau but in the valley, some
eight miles to the west. There he fortified the
church, and by holding this place he cut off the
enemy from the most important road to Quebec, the
one which led through Charlesbourg. The church at
Ste Foy, on the plateau some five miles from Quebec,
and commanding a more southerly road from the west,
he also fortified. At both Lorette and Ste Foy he
stationed field-pieces, and he surrounded the
positions with entrenchments and stout picket-work.
He held himself ready also to place a force at Cap
Rouge. These posts meant the control of the parishes
in the immediate neighbourhood of Quebec, and he
provided for the administration of justice in these
parishes by appointing a Canadian magistrate.
It
was desirable also to control the south side of the
St. Lawrence. For some time Murray was unable to
throw a force across the river; on November 30,
however, he sent one Captain Leslie, with a
detachment of two hundred men to disarm the
inhabitants. Not until three weeks later, on
Christmas Day, did Captain Leslie return. Then he
reported that every officer and soldier in his party
had been frostbitten. Though he had achieved less
than he had hoped, he had disarmed the inhabitants
in a considerable area and had taken from them an
oath of fidelity. Murray, in summing up his work in
the last days of 1759, could say that the sway of
George II was recognized everywhere eastward of Cap
Rouge on the northern bank of the St. Lawrence and
eastward of the River Chaudiere on the southern
bank.
The
British complained bitterly that the French did not
play the game of war as it was played in Europe. The
savage allies of the French insisted on fighting in
their own way. Should a soldier be missing it was as
likely as not that his body would be found outside
the walls, scalped and mutilated. The Indians,
indeed, scalped not only the dead but the wounded.
Similar outrages there had been in the course of the
war on the British side. Malcolm Fraser, a Highland
officer, describes his horror at the brutal savagery
of the Colonial Rangers. But these methods were
firmly checked by the leaders when present. Generals
like Amherst restrained sternly their Indian allies,
always restlessly eager for massacre and scalps.
Without doubt the French leaders, though they
disliked the methods of the Indians, had shown, in
this respect, less strength than the British. They
had, it is true, urged moderation on the savages,
and to save prisoners from torture they had
sometimes paid ransoms to their Indian captors. They
did not, however用erhaps they dared not with their
weaker forces用unish, as Amherst punished, those who
were guilty of outrage.
Now
the outrages were nearly all on the French side, and
the belief sank deeply into the hearts of the
British forces that it was a regular French practice
to permit Indians to scalp and murder the wounded
left on the battle-field. It was stated and believed
that even Montcalm, after entertaining a British
officer at his table, had then permitted the savages
to torture him. The Canadians, it was said, were now
told to make no prisoners, but to bring in scalps as
trophies of their prowess and to receive a handsome
reward. Levis was not chiefly blamed for this
conduct. He was looked upon as an honourable
soldier. It was against Vaudreuil that the rage of
the British turned. He told the Canadians that the
British did not keep faith and that, in turn, no
promises made to them were binding; thus, he said,
the inhabitants might ignore the solemn oath of
neutrality which they had given to the British
victor. 'It is impossible to describe the impression
which the English have of M. de Vaudreuil or of the
council which controls him,' Bernier, the French
commissary, sent to Quebec after the surrender,
reported to Levis; 'prudence and modesty forbid my
repeating what they say. They consider him as
blood-thirsty, deceitful, a wanton liar, who wishes
the ruin of the country.' Many horrors attributed to
Vaudreuil were described in England預 country, says
Bernier, 'where everything is printed' (dans un pays
on tout s'im-prime)預nd made a great impression.
Horace Walpole echoes the general sentiment: 'Had he
fallen into our hands our men were determined to
scalp him, he having been the chief and blackest
author of the cruelties exercised on our
countrymen.' Though happily this stern vengeance
found no place, the time was to come when, on
account of such practices, a deep humiliation should
be exacted from the defeated French army.
Since
the French had a few frigates and other ships in the
river above Quebec, the British were always on the
watch lest these should pass down and get away to
France. It was, indeed, vital to the French that
they should escape, for only by them could Vaudreuil
send home a statement of his needs and a request for
prompt help in the early spring. On November 22 the
French fleet dropped down the river and anchored
above Quebec off Sillery. Voices of those on board
reached the shore and the British were convinced
from the continual chattering that the ships were
crowded with families returning to France. The
intention of the French was to pass Quebec that
night when it was dark. The wind, however, failed
them, and then the British opened fire the French
ships retired out of range. A day or two later they
had better luck. On a very dark night and with a
fresh and favourable wind they repeated the attempt
to get away. The British gunners fired a vast
quantity of shot and shell at the passing ships,
silent and dim in the gloom. The fire was not
entirely effective. Some of the ships sailed past
and continued their voyage. It was found, however,
when morning broke, that, owing less to the British
fire than to bad seamanship, five of the ships had
run aground. Four were set on fire by their crews;
one lay stranded and abandoned on the south shore.
A
tragedy followed. Without Murray's knowledge Captain
Miller of the sloop Racehorse, left at Quebec for
the winter, went in a schooner to survey the wrecks.
Accompanied by a lieutenant and thirty or forty men
he boarded the stranded ship lying near the mouth of
the River Etchemin. The French, whether by accident
or design, had left powder lying about loose.
Unhappily some one lighted a fire and there was a
terrible explosion. Most of the British were killed
outright; those not killed were left so deplorably
injured that no one of them could help the others.
The schooner in which they had crossed the river was
soon boarded by crews which had escaped from the
French ships and it was taken after a sharp fight.
The victors hurried away; but, a little later, a
Canadian ventured to board the stranded ship in
search of plunder. To his horror he found many dead
bodies; he also found Captain Miller, the
lieutenant, and two seamen still alive but
dreadfully burned and in great agony. He cared for
them as best he could and in the end they were taken
for treatment to the Ursuline Convent at Quebec. To
the great grief of the garrison, Miller and the
lieutenant died within a few days and Murray had to
deplore the useless loss of brave men. The
ship-carpenters taken prisoners in the schooner by
the French could be ill-spared. Murray was building
flat-bottomed boats for the river campaign of the
coming summer and was sorely in need of men skilled
to do this work.
When
it was evident that Quebec must be prepared to stand
a siege, Murray gave permission to the French
inhabitants to withdraw if they wished to do so. The
cost of living in a besieged city would be great, he
pointed out, and he asked those to go away who had
hot adequate means. Many families, even the Bishop
of Quebec himself, removed to Montreal. Some of the
inhabitants went only as far as Three Rivers or to
neighbouring villages, while still others departed
to live in the woods in Indian style. Those,
however, who wished to do so had the right under the
capitulation to remain in their own houses, and this
a good many of the obscurer sort did. The English
found that these humble people did not hesitate to
call down maledictions upon Vaudreuil for their
misfortunes. The women were specially vehement;
their bitter invectives involved the wish 'that he
may be brought to as miserable and barbarous an exit
as ever a European suffered under savages'. When
Captain Knox heard these imprecations he slyly
suggested that they should ask for an exit as
barbarous as ever an Englishman suffered under
savages by his orders. The revilers of Vaudreuil
assented to this, though in calmer moments they
would deny that any of the French leaders had
approved of such outrages. This was not true. At
this very time Vaudreuil was inciting the savages to
commit outrages on the Canadians who accepted
British rule. At last, in November, Murray issued a
proclamation denouncing the Governor's conduct and
in turn menacing the Canadians with all the rigours
that the rules of war would allow, if they should
prove unfaithful to their new oath of allegiance.
Over
the French who remained in Quebec Murray established
a 'stern but just' rule. They were guaranteed, for
the time being, the full rights of their religion.
During the winter, multitudes thronged to the
Ursuline Chapel, and Captain Knox describes how he
was 'agreeably entertained' at this chapel by high
mass celebrated with great pomp of vestments. But
his Protestant soul was vexed by another ceremony
and one that it is not now easy to identify. 'I
cannot omit', he writes in December, 'taking notice
of an incident that happened here yesterday. Passing
in the evening through one of the streets, before it
was dark, I met a crowd of French people, of both
sexes, with staves and lanthorns, and seemingly in
great haste; upon inquiry I found that it was one of
the Popish ceremonies. These deluded creatures were
going in quest of Barrabbas, the robber, who was
released at the crucifixion of the Saviour of the
world; and, having, after a long search, discovered
a man who was to personate him, being concealed for
that purpose, they bound him like a thief, and
whipped him before them, with shouts and menaces,
until they arrived at one of their churches, where
it was pretended he was to suffer as Christ did, in
commemoration of His passion.'
In
spite of Protestant critics like Knox, Murray
ordered that 'the compliment of the hat' should be
paid by the officers to religious processions as
they passed through the streets; any one whose
conscience would be compromised by such recognition
was asked to go out of his way to avoid meeting
processions. Some of the corner houses in Quebec had
niches in the walls, with statues, as large as life,
of St. Joseph, Ste Ursule, and other saints. From
the first days of the occupation any injury to such
property was strictly forbidden and plundering was
to meet with the penalty of death. Though religious
gatherings were permitted, all other meetings were
forbidden. Lights in the houses must be put out at
ten. The inhabitants must give up their arms. They
must report promptly to the authorities any persons
newly arrived whom they sheltered. If they went out
after dark they must carry lanterns to show that
their errand was legitimate and that they were not
trying to conceal it. British soldiers might not
intermarry with the French or work for them. On
penalty of death the Canadians might not, unknown to
Murray, enter into correspondence with people of the
adjoining country. It is necessary to add that, in
spite of such precautions, the French leaders at
Montreal were kept well informed as to what was
happening at Quebec.
Murray enforced his regulations with considerable
rigour. For being out after dark without a lantern
two citizens of Quebec were flogged. When a former
inhabitant of the city arrived from Montreal and did
not at once report his coming to the Governor, both
he and the friend in whose house he was concealed
were thrown into prison. A prominent citizen,
accused of corresponding with the enemy, was
arrested, confronted with two intercepted letters
directed to him, and threatened that if he did not
confess he should receive a hundred lashes and be
drummed out of the town with a halter round his
neck. The man protested his innocence so earnestly
that punishment was postponed. Then it was found
that he was the victim of a malicious trick. It had
become known that he had taken the oath of fidelity
to the sovereign of Great Britain and, in resentment
at this desertion of the French cause, a former
business partner had sent the letters from Montreal,
knowing that they would fall into the hands of the
British. In November a similar outburst of
resentment overtook a Canadian who was bringing
provisions from the Point of Levy to Quebec. Some
French light horse seized and plundered him, beat
him inhumanly, wounded him with their sabres, and
then sent him over to Quebec with the message : 'Now
go and tell your fine English Governor how we have
treated you, and we hope soon to serve him, and his
valiant troops, in the same manner.'
It
was of the priests and especially of the Jesuits
that the British were the most suspicious. We know,
indeed, that the French army counted upon these
allies for help against Quebec.Murray learned that
some priests, taking advantage of the hardships
endured by his soldiers, had incited them to
discontent and desertion. He banished a priest whom
he found in the act of giving what may well have
been innocent instruction to some of his men laid up
in hospital. A soldier who had been condemned to
death for desertion Murray pardoned, when it became
known that the man had been incited by a priest to
commit the offence. At first Murray had left to the
Jesuits, now few in number, a part of their fine
building, taking the rest as a depot for provisions.
Everywhere at that time Jesuits were under a cloud
of suspicion, a state of opinion that led a few
years later to the abolition of the order by the
Pope. Rumours of intrigue by the Jesuits reached
Murray. He welcomed this excuse, since he wished to
use the remainder of their building, and on October
26 he gave them notice that they must leave Quebec
as soon as possible. Shortly after this a barrel of
gunpowder and a cask of 15,000 cartridges were found
to have been 'artfully concealed' by a Jesuit's
valet. He and his master were arrested and confined
separately. When the valet admitted his guilt, the
Jesuit pleaded that his servant was an idiot whose
testimony should not be heeded. To this the retort
was that it would have been an act of folly if the
powder had been concealed a little earlier when the
weather was so damp as to destroy it, but that the
offender had waited until there had been a hard
frost; and, in short, ' if the fellow is an idiot
his abettors and accomplices are no fools.' Murray
turned the Jesuits out of their building, in spite
of murmurs from some of the inhabitants, who claimed
that to dispossess the Jesuits of their property was
to violate the conditions of surrender.
A few
of the priests and Jesuits most suspected Murray
kept in confinement. Naturally some of the
suspicions proved unjust. Captain Knox was sent to
arrest a suspected priest. He writes: 'I found him
in his house, and arrested him in the name of his
Britannic Majesty; the poor old man was greatly
terrified, and entreated me earnestly to tell him
his crime: but I made no other delay than to post a
centinel, whom I had taken with me, in the apartment
with this ancient father.' It turned out that the
priest had been quite guiltless of what was
suspected.
Among
his own people Murray had difficult problems of
government. The British private soldier of the time
was, in any case, too often ignorant, degraded, and
drunken. The recent desolation of the surrounding
country had involved a kind of plundering warfare
which had debauched the soldiers and, at first,
great rigour was necessary to restore good habits.
There was much theft, robbery, and desertion, the
last offence being caused, no doubt, by the desire
to escape from possible punishment for the other
crimes. To check this the sentence of death was
often passed. On October 28 a soldier was shot on
the Grand Parade for desertion. A fortnight later a
soldier of the 48th regiment was executed for
robbing a Quebec citizen. At the same time an
inhabitant, formerly a drummer in the French
service, who was caught in the act of enticing some
soldiers of the Royal American regiment to desert,
was hanged. When, at another time, a court martial
condemned two men to death for robbery, Murray
decided that the death of one would suffice to teach
the needed lesson and ordered lots to be cast as to
which should die. We can picture the torrent of
emotions linked with such a cast, but the man who
made the fortunate throw showed outwardly no
satisfaction, while, says Captain Knox, 'the other
poor fellow was instantly executed, and behaved
quite undaunted, though with great decency.' With
similar vigour Murray checked the vice of drunkeness.
He ordered that no liquor should be sold, so that
the men might have only the allowance served out
regularly. Then, any soldier found drunk was to
receive twenty lashes a day until he should tell
where he had secured the liquor and his allowance of
rum was to be stopped for six weeks. Others than
soldiers met with similar severity. More than once
women were whipped through the streets for the
offence of selling rum.
In
the Orders of the day we get an excellent picture of
the military discipline of the time, and it commands
admiration for its efficiency. As so often in the
subsequent history of the army, some of the younger
officers were prone to a contented ignorance in
regard to their duty. Men of this type Murray took
sharply to task. He ruled with something like iron
rigour. The sentences of a single court martial show
how stern was the discipline enforced. 'One soldier
was sentenced to receive a thousand lashes, for
absenting his duty [sic], and using expressions
tending to excite mutiny and desertion. A second,
for being disguised, with an intention to desert,
and being out of his quarters at an undue time of
night,葉o receive three hundred. A third, for an
intention to desert,熔ne thousand. And a fourth, for
desertion, and endeavouring to inveigle others to
desert, 葉o suffer death.'
In
spite of occasional blackguardism the spirit of the
men was excellent. For the most part they were
cheerful and ready for hard service. They were
always quick to volunteer for any difficult duty and
in this respect were better than their officers; in
November, when officers and men were invited to
volunteer for a special scouting service, no officer
came forward though the men were ready. Officers and
men, alike, however, were prepared for any service
to which they were ordered. The tasks before the
defenders of Quebec were heavy. They had to repair a
great number of houses within the walls, to build
the line of block-houses as outer defences of the
walls, to strengthen the walls themselves, to open
embrasures, to drag cannon into position, to store
away an inconceivable quantity of ammunition, to cut
and put into magazines thousands of fascines, and to
perform a hundred other exhausting labours. In their
tasks the men took the cheery humorous view of life
that has helped to carry the British arms through so
many crises. 'Their daily allowance of rum', writes
Captain Knox, 'contributes not a little to
exhilarate them under their present harrowing
circumstances.' For the hardships of even the lower
animals they showed sympathy. The Canadians used
dogs as beasts of burden to haul wood and water, and
these beasts sometimes dragged great loads on the
light sleighs to which they were harnessed. One day
a band of soldiers, straining in the street at their
own load of wood, met a peasant and two dogs
dragging a similar burden. The men instantly hailed
the dogs as fellow-workers, called them comrade and
yoke-mate, and invited both the man and his animals
to share their scanty meal. When Murray heard the
story 'he expressed himself like a tender parent
towards his brave soldiers for their immense yet
unavoidable hardships ' and laughed at the humour
with which they bore the stern exigencies of war.
The
effect of this spirit was that every soldier tried
to outdo his fellows in zeal. Murray had no money
with which to pay them, for the Hunter sloop of war,
sent from Halifax with 」20,000 on board, had set out
too late in the season to reach Quebec and had
turned back. The result was that the pay of the
troops remained in arrears from October 24, 1759.
Murray declined to issue a paper currency and he
forbade the circulation of the discredited French
paper money with which the Canadians, to their
sorrow, were so familiar. The officers of the fleet,
before going away, had collected 」4,000, which they
lent to the army. When this supply was exhausted,
Murray issued his own and Colonel Burton's notes at
six months for 」8,000 and asked the garrison to
volunteer advances of cash on the security thus
offered. The sum was promptly made up, the sober and
frugal men of Fraser's Highlanders contributing no
less than 」2,000. Murray complains of the 'villainy'
of the English traders who, unlike the soldiers,
hoarded all the specie paid in to them.
In
Quebec were three communities of women, the Ursuline
Nuns, devoted chiefly to education, the Nuns of the
General Hospital, whose special task was the care of
the old and the indigent, and the Nuns of the Hotel
Dieu, whose work was to nurse the sick. For these
nuns, helpless women as they were, the conquerors
showed every consideration. It was necessary to use
their extensive houses as hospitals, and, in
consequence, they themselves were huddled into
rather narrow quarters. The Ursuline Nuns were
obliged to give up two of the three floors of their
fine building to wounded officers and soldiers. In
the wing of the Holy Family, Murray held meetings of
his council; even the chapel, as we have seen, was
used twice a week for Protestant services. The nuns
lived in the top flat and were carefully protected.
The British repaired their building, which had
suffered during the siege. A sentry stood night and
day before the door of the convent; the nuns drew
daily supplies from the commissariat department
established in the neighbouring Jesuits' College;
and convalescent soldiers cut wood, carried water,
and cleared the paths of snow for them.
In
return for this special protection the ladies were
unsparing of courtesies to the British. They
furnished delicacies for the wounded. Even in those
troubled days they found leisure for fine
needlework, and on St. Andrew's Day, in compliment
to Murray's Scottish nationality, they presented to
him and some other officers a set of crosses of St.
Andrew curiously worked: 'In a corner of the field
of each cross was wrought an emblematical heart
expressive of that attachment and affection which
every good man naturally bears to his native
country.' For Scots of humbler rank the kind-hearted
nuns were not less solicitous. The bare legs of the
men in kilts aroused their special compassion in the
severe weather, and they worked long woollen hose
'to cover the limbs of the poor strangers'. Murray
marked the doors in the Ursuline Convent beyond
which no soldier might pass. From their quarters in
the top flat the nuns descended at regular intervals
for prayers in the chapel, where, as a cloistered
community, they were strictly guarded from
intrusion. But one evening a sister descending to
ring the angelus bell saw a soldier in the chapel.
She cried out, the sentry came running in to seek
the cause of the noise, and the man was seized. He
protested that he had wished only to see the
procession of nuns file past to their prayers, but
he was haled before a court martial which pronounced
a heavy sentence. Then the venerable
mother-superior, now seventy-five years old, wrote a
touching letter to Murray, asking pardon for the
offender, and the general could not refuse the
humane request.
Since
Wolfe's victory the General Hospital at Quebec,
lying outside the walls across the meadows near the
bank of the St. Charles River, had been a centre of
great interest for the victors. At its head was
Madame Sainte-Claude, the sister of Ramezay, the
last French defender of Quebec. Before the surrender
of the fortress the convents in the town had found
their position dangerous from the incessant
bombardment and, in the end, their inmates had
decided to take refuge in the General Hospital,
which lay beyond the range of the British fire. Here
they proved of great service in helping to nurse the
sick. It was the mother-superior of the Hotel Dieu
and her nuns who had first wended their way to this
refuge. The next day the nuns of the Ursuline
Convent, flying from the bombs and bullets which
were piercing the walls of their house, had found
safety across the meadows in the same haven. A good
many refugees from the suburbs of Quebec sought
there, too, a temporary abiding place, and the
ladies of the Hospital had their hands full. On the
memorable 13th of September the trembling nuns had
looked out from the windows on dire slaughter; and
soon the wounded were being brought to them until
between twelve and fifteen hundred had been laid on
the beds and floors of the large building. Late that
night, when as many members of the three communities
as could be spared were prostrate before the altar
to implore the mercy of God amid these troubled
scenes, their fears had been aroused anew by
repeated and violent knocking at the outer doors. A
British officer, said, probably incorrectly, to have
been General Townshend himself, with a guard of two
hundred men, had come to take possession. The
officer reassured the nuns and they received every
courtesy from the British. After the British
occupation most of the Ursulines and the nuns of the
Hotel Dieu returned to their convents in Quebec,
where they showed great devotion in nursing the
sick. The British had urged that the French army
should furnish support to their own wounded in the
Hospital, but this Vaudreuil protested the French
were unable to do. When the limited resources of the
nuns of the General Hospital became exhausted,
Murray ordered the inhabitants of the surrounding
villages to bring them supplies.
During the hard winter in Quebec the pity of the
nuns of the General Hospital knew no distinctions of
race. In going about their duties among officers and
men they were, says Captain Knox, 'exceedingly
humane and tender. . . . When our poor fellows were
ill, and ordered to be removed from their own odious
regimental hospitals to this general receptacle,
they were indeed rendered inexpressibly happy; each
patient had his bed with curtains allotted to him
and
THE GENERAL HOSPITAL,
QUEBEC
a
nurse to attend him; sometimes she will take three,
or more, under her care, according to the number of
sick or wounded in the house. . . . Every Officer
has an apartment to himself, and is attended by one
of those religious sisters, who, in general, are
young, handsome, and fair; courteous, rigidly
reserved, and very respectful. . . . Their office of
nursing the sick furnishes them with opportunities
of taking great latitudes, if they are so disposed;
but I never heard any of them charged with the least
levity.' Thirty years earlier, in 1733, some
Canadian nuns had been less demure and a French
Minister of State, M. de Maurepas, had sent out a
letter to rebuke them for their worldly conduct in
going out into society and attending dinners and
suppers. The Minister intended that the standard for
Canada, if not for France, should be austere.
At
the General Hospital were gathered a considerable
number of French officers, most of them
convalescent. Under the terms of the Cartel agreed
to by the belligerents, they were not prisoners and
they had their own table as in the days before the
capitulation. The French commissary in Quebec, M.
Bernier, did not think highly of these gentlemen.
'Their pretensions', he says, 'are so extravagant in
all things that it is impossible to satisfy them.'
Because he had been placed in charge of the
arrangements affecting them they looked upon him as
a valet at their beck and call. But he makes
allowances; they are ill and idle and, he says
sententiously, 'Idleness is a great vice and illness
makes us fretful.' Captain Knox saw much of these
officers. He spent a week in command of the small
garrison which held the Hospital and, compared with
the stable which constituted his quarters in Quebec,
he found it an oasis in the desert. The General
Hospital still exists, little changed from what it
was when Knox thought it a 'very stately building',
having 'two great wings, one fronting the north, and
the other the south with a 'superb church' in the
south wing and 'a very neat chapel ' in the other.
'I have lived here he says, 'at the French King's
table, with an agreeable polite society. . . . Some
of the gentlemen were married, and their ladies
honoured us with their company; they were generally
chearful, except when we discoursed upon the late
revolution, and the affairs of the campaign; then
they seemingly gave way to grief uttered by profound
sighs, and followed by an "O, mon Dieu"' The men
seemed less depressed. In fine weather Knox
sometimes walked with them in the garden; at other
times he played picquet. When the French officers
discovered that he understood French better than he
could speak it, they would, in defiance of manners,
converse among themselves in Latin. We may believe
that its range was limited and Knox knew that
language better than his French companions. Their
phrases usually wound up with a rapturous and
theatrically spoken declamation from Virgil in
regard to their own hardships:
Per
mare, per terras, per tot discrimina rerum
and
Nos
patriam fugimus, nos dulcia linquimus arva.
Knox
racked his brains for an appropriate rebuke and at
length hit upon a neat citation, also from Virgil,
which summed up the British point of view :
0
Meliboee, Dens nobis haec otia fecit?
After
this there was no more spouting of tragic phrases.
'We
dined, every day,' he says, 'between eleven and
twelve, and afterwards were respectively served with
a cup of laced coffee [coffee with spirits added];
our dinners were generally indifferent but our
suppers (what they called their grand repas, were
plentiful and elegant. I was at a loss, the first
day, as every person was obliged to use his own
knife and wine, there being only a spoon and a
four-pronged fork laid with each napkin and plate. .
. . Each person here produces an ordinary clasped
knife from his pocket, which serves him for every
use; and, when they have dined or supped, they wipe
and return it: the one I had, before I was provided
with my own, was lent me by the Frenchman who stood
at my chair, and it gave my meat a strong flavour of
tobacco, which, though it might have supplied the
want of garlic to the owner, or his countrymen, was
so exceedingly disgustful to me, that I was obliged
to change my plate, and it was with difficulty I
could eat any more.'
Dining so early Knox did not trouble about
breakfast, but, after he had been at the Hospital
two or three days, a nun brought him a polite note
from Madame Sainte-Claude inviting him to an English
breakfast. He found her surrounded by nuns engaged
in needlework. On a table in the middle of the room
was a plentiful supply of tea, milk, and slices of
bread an inch thick ' covered with a profusion of
butter '. A beverage black as ink was offered to
Knox, the hostess assuring him that, to suit the
supposed English taste, half a pint of tea had been
put in the pot and then well boiled with the water.
To the good lady's obvious distress, Knox declared
that he preferred milk; 'she had heard the English
always preferred tea for breakfast.' Conversation
did not flag and Knox says that he 'passed near two
hours most agreeably, in the society of this ancient
Lady and her virginal sisters '.
The
ancient lady, who was of great stature, proved less
innocent than she seemed. As the winter wore on
Murray found that rumours of British defeats and of
the conclusion of a peace favourable to France were
emanating from the General Hospital. They were
circulated in the hope of discouraging the British
soldiers. Murray, though usually friendly to the
nuns, is said by Knox to have sent an officer to
reproach Madame Sainte-Claude for conduct unfitting
one who had turned from the world, and to say that
'if she is tired of living out of the world, and
will change her habit for that of a man, she being
of a proper stature, his Excellency will inrol her
as a grenadier and upon her good behaviour, will
duly promote, and grant her every farther indulgence
in his power.
Murray found that another community of nuns, those
of the Hotel Dieu, also sent to the French army news
of what was taking place in Quebec. At the
intercession of the Duchess d'Aiguillon Pitt had
written to ask for special care of these nuns.
Murray, however, had at length to warn them that if
they did not mend their ways their house would be
converted into a barracks for troops and they
themselves would be banished from Quebec. The nuns
showed so strenuous a zeal for the conversion of the
heretics to whom they ministered that the Bishop of
Quebec, Mgr. Pontbriand, a saintly man, quietly told
them that their own piety and modesty rather than
their words were likely to touch the hearts of their
patients. He told them, too, that they had a duty to
the conqueror, since ' according to the teaching of
St. Paul they owed obedience to the King of England,
for the time the ruler of Quebec.
Until
the late autumn, the serene atmosphere and the
bright sky at Quebec were very agreeable, but 'hoary
winter' soon appeared, as Knox says, 'with hasty
strides.' The cold was to prove the great enemy. The
rigours of a Canadian winter are not really
difficult to combat, but the British in Quebec were
wholly without experience in fighting them. This
winter of 1759-60 appears to have been unusually
severe; by February, even spirits stored in cellars
were found frozen. Adequate clothing had not been
provided for the soldiers, and the Highlanders in
particular, with their bare legs, suffered severely
until, with the assistance of the good nuns and by
other strenuous efforts, most, if not all, of them
had been furnished with trousers or with long knit
hose. Sentries at their posts were often severely
frost-bitten. In the Orders the men were warned when
this happened to avoid going near a fire and to rub
the frost-bitten part with snow. Sentries on duty in
the open air were sometimes quickly deprived by the
cold of the power of speech. The guard was changed
in severe weather every half-hour or even oftener.
Men who underwent the prolonged exposure of winter
expeditions suffered terribly; much farther south
than Quebec, at Crown Point, during this winter a
British surgeon amputated in a single day no less
than one hundred toes, frozen in a march from
Ticonderoga.
For
protection from the cold the men at Quebec cut up
blankets to make socks and gloves. In order to
replenish the supply, Murray seized blankets from
the Canadians, with the promise to pay for them on
the arrival of the ships in the spring. The soldiers
wore anything they could get which promised warmth,
even the French uniforms found in the stores at
Quebec. Mocassins proved warmer than boots and were
less likely to cause slipping. Accordingly the
soldiers appeared on parade in mocassins. 'Our
guards, on the Grande Parade,' says Knox, 'made a
most grotesque appearance in their different
dresses; and our inventions to guard us against the
extreme rigour of this climate are various beyond
imagination: the uniformity, as well as the nicety,
of the clean methodical soldier, is buried in the
rough fur-wrought garb of the frozen Laplander; and
we rather resemble a masquerade than a body of
regular troops; insomuch that I have frequently been
accosted by my acquaintances, who, though familiar
their voices were to me, I could not discover or
conceive who they were; besides, every man seems to
be in a continual hurry; for, instead of walking
soberly through the streets, we are obliged to
observe a running or trotting pace.' When the
weather was cold no one stirred out unless
absolutely obliged to do so. Persons going out
covered everything but the eyes. The appreciation of
the attractions of a Canadian winter, now so
general, is apparently the result of education.
Sometimes the snow was so deep that it blocked the
streets. It lodged in such a mass under the walls of
Quebec that assailants could almost have walked into
the town over the snow banks. To avert this danger,
after each snowfall the British soldiers dug the
snow away from the wall and piled it so as to form a
second outer defence. A line of barrels filled with
snow frozen into solid ice helped to make a glacis
of this outer defence and a kind of ditch separated
it from the stone wall. Even when snow did not block
the streets of Quebec there was another difficulty,
for ice often made them extremely slippery. Mountain
Street, the descent of the steep cliff separating
the Upper from the Lower Town, became a sheet of
ice, and soldiers found it safer to sit down and
slide to the bottom than to try to walk. ' Creepers
' to make the footing secure were in great demand,
as also, when snow had fallen, were snow-shoes.
Taught by some of the Rangers from New England, the
light infantry practised walking on snow-shoes and,
though the practice was at first fatiguing, it was
not difficult to learn. So useful did the snow-shoes
prove that Murray required the people of the
surrounding country and of Quebec to hand over the
snow-shoes which they possessed. In mid-winter,
soldiers mounting guard were ordered always to bring
snow-shoes with them in order that, if necessary,
they might be able to pursue the enemy over the
snow.
The
St. Lawrence, when first frozen over, was, for a
time, without a covering of snow and furnished a
great expanse of smooth ice. OiJPday a Stench
prisoner saw his opportunity. Going with a soldier
to bring a bucket of water from the river, he
slipped off his shoes and ran away in his stockings
on the ice. The soldier, armed with a bayonet only,
and wearing boots without ' creepers cut a
ridiculous figure as he slipped on the ice in his
vain efforts to pursue the fugitive. The British,
always athletic, could not resist the temptation to
skate on this sea of glass which lay before Quebec,
and a French officer, writing in February, notes
grimly that this practice gave the hostile Indians
great pleasure and that they had already captured
six of the defenders of Quebec.
The
visitors had been in Quebec only a few days when
they saw that one of their chief problems would be
to secure fire-wood. The supply from ruined houses
and old fences was soon exhausted. Not less than
twenty thousand cords of wood were needed and only
about a thousand cords were on hand. At first, on
chill nights, the soldiers upon guard had been
permitted to have fires in the open air, but this
was soon forbidden, in order to save wood. A few
days after the surrender two frigates were sent
about four miles up the river to procure some wood
which the Canadians had piled on the heights. A body
of Rangers kept off assailants while the wood was
thrown over the precipice and secured by the
sailors. By order of Levis the French burned all the
firewood which they could find on the south bank of
the river as far as the Point of Levy, so that it
might not fall into Murray's hands. The British were
soon repenting bitterly that, in the course of their
siege of Quebec, they had destroyed quantities of
wood. Murray ordered the Canadians to bring in wood,
and offered them five shillings for each cord. But
they supplied it only slowly and reluctantly. As the
winter advanced, he was obliged to seize what
sleighs he could and to require the service from his
own men, paying them, however, the price he had
offered to the Canadians.
This
cutting of wood proved the most severe task of the
army. For a time fuel was brought by water from Isle
Madame and the Island of Orleans, but, on account
both of the distance and of the difficulty in winter
of navigating the river, filled with floes of ice,
Murray was obliged to look for his chief supply to
the forests at Ste Foy, five miles away. From two
hundred and fifty to three hundred men were kept
busy at this work. It was especially trying because
of the inexperience of the men in handling the axe.
They also suffered terribly from frost-bites. Since
almost no horses were available in Quebec the
soldiers had to do the work of horses. In teams of
eight, yoked in couples like beasts of burden, and
with a ninth man to guide the sleigh, they dragged
wood four or five miles to the town, through snow so
deep, at times, that it was necessary to mark the
road by beacons. The service was dangerous as well
as difficult; Indians were lurking in the
neighbourhood to cut off stragglers, and to be
captured meant death by scalping and also barbarous
mutilation. The sleighing parties were obliged to
carry arms and ammunition, and by practice the men
were able so to carry their weapons that they could
get at them easily even while drawing the sleighs.
It was this service more than anything else which
wore down the strength of the troops in the course
of the winter.
Unsalted food was always a pressing need. There was
an abundance of fish in the river, and the soldiers
learned from the Canadians how to take fish through
holes in the ice. The garrison was ready either to
buy outright from the Canadians fresh meat and
vegetables or to give in exchange for them wine,
biscuits, and salted provisions, while these things
lasted. Extravagant prices were sometimes asked by
the Canadians. At length, on the request of the
British and French traders in Quebec, a maximum
price for| bread and meat was fixed by Colonel
Young, whom Murray had appointed to act as a
magistrate in civil affairs, with the aid of some of
the principal inhabitants. All butchers must have
licences and they were not to charge more than 6d. a
pound for mutton and 5d. for beef. When the men
grumbled about the food, Murray ordered that any one
complaining of his allowance should be brought to
trial for sedition. Though the exchange of
provisions with the Canadians had been brisk for a
time, the supplies, on both sides, were soon
exhausted and there remained little to exchange.
Murray levied a contribution of three hundred cattle
on the inhabitants of the subdued country, but this
resource was not adequate. Even salted provisions
became in time scarce. It had been supposed that
supplies for a year had been left at Quebec by the
fleet, but, towards the spring, the garrison found
itself face to face with famine. The unfortunate
Canadians remaining in Quebec were then, of course,
even worse off than the soldiers. Murray at last
ordered that in each week the provisions for one day
allotted to the officers and men should be handed
over to the inhabitants. The soldiers accepted this
plan without a murmur, though they themselves were
being reduced to mere skeletons from lack of food.
Disease aided famine in Quebec. Almost from the
first the health of the troops suffered. Since there
was a suspicion that this might be due to the
poisoning of the wells with dead dogs and cats, the
men were ordered to drink only the water from the
river. But the real tragedy was caused by a deadly
outbreak of scurvy, which was believed to follow
upon an exclusive diet of salted meat and upon the
absence of vegetables.' Our brave soldiers are
growing sickly,' wrote Knox as early as November ; '
their disorders are chiefly scorbutic, with fevers
and dysenteries.' Every available remedy was tried.
In the barrack-rooms regulations were posted for the
preserving of health against scurvy. The men were
ordered to boil their pork in fresh water, and in no
case to eat uncooked meat. Murray had found a good
supply of wine in the French stores, and, since it
was deemed a cure for scurvy, he encouraged the men
to buy it out of their scanty resources. Ginger and
vinegar, tar-water, and other remedies were tried.
Perhaps the best one was a liquor made from the
spruce tree, and Murray gave orders that every day
the men should drink some of this mixed with their
allowance of rum.
Yet
hundreds died. Daily, as the winter wore on, there
were not less than two or three funerals, and
sometimes there were half a dozen. 'The men grow
more unhealthy as the winter advances, and scarce a
day passes without two or three funerals,' wrote
Knox in January. In February he repeats: 'Our
soldiers grow more sickly, and many of them are
daily carried off by the inveteracy of their
disorders'; and in March: 'our forces are now
reduced to three thousand fit for duty; our sick,
lame, and convalescents amount to nineteen hundred.'
In April the troops were stricken with the disease
at the rate of two hundred a week, and most of the
men had become little more than skeletons, hobbling
about with the aid of crutches. Before the end of
April two thousand men were unfit for any service
and about a thousand had died. The ground was so
hard frozen that final burial was impossible, and
the bodies of many hundreds of British soldiers were
laid away in the snow, to be preserved by the
intense cold until spring should permit their
committal to mother earth. There were in Quebec five
hundred and sixty-seven women camp-followers, the
invariable and usually disreputable accompaniment of
the armies of the time. While disease was carrying
off its sadly numerous victims, these women remained
perfectly healthy, and they rendered useful service
in nursing the sick soldiers and in washing and
mending. The Canadian inhabitants were not as
fortunate as the women; though they suffered less
than the soldiers, about a hundred and twenty died
during the winter. No doubt the Canadians were the
more liable to disease because they were underfed.
What money they had was the paper money issued in
Canada by the French, and this the English traders
in Quebec would not accept.
Behind everything was the great military problem of
defending the fortress. Gossip was always busy as to
the designs and the successes of the enemy. Towards
the end of November it was rumoured in Quebec that a
ship from France had passed up unobserved, in the
night, and had brought news that the French had
destroyed Halifax, had retaken Louisbourg, and had
put two-thirds of the garrisons to the sword. It was
added that a fleet carrying troops would arrive in
the early spring from France to perform similar
feats at Quebec. Later came a rumour that the French
had destroyed the greatest fleet which had ever
sailed from the shores of England; that they had
conquered Ireland, and had massacred troops and
natives alike when found in arms ; and that they
would soon make a triumphant peace and re-occupy
Quebec. Usually, the day of vengeance was not
postponed so indefinitely. At first rumour said that
Levis was resolved to spend Christmas in Quebec ; he
would set its roofs on fire by a shower of hot
arrows and, in the confusion, carry the place by
storm. It was this threatened assault before
Christmas which led Murray, always nervous about the
strength of his walls, to build the block-houses on
the side towards the Plains of Abraham and to drill
his men in the use of snow-shoes, apparently with
the intention of fighting on the snow outside the
walls. Christmas passed, and then it was in February
that dire things were to happen. At one time the
French general, in sporting humour, wrote to propose
a wager with Murray that help from France would
arrive before the British could receive aid from
England. Murray's answer was spirited and prophetic;
'I have not the least inclination to win your money,
for, I am very certain, I shall have the honour to
embark your Excellency and the remains of your
half-starved army, for Europe, in British bottoms,
before the expiration of the ensuing summer.' The
fulfilment of this prophecy was to become a grim
reality for the French.
Other
rumours pointed to a British success. With some
truth the French army was reported by deserters to
be half starved. It was said that the Canadians had
grown anxious for final surrender to the British.
The Indian allies of the French were also reported
to be discontented and arrogant; to have threatened
to stone Vaudreuil to death for his incompetence;
and to have refused to fight unless given permission
to scalp the dead and wounded on the field. There
was a report of a great British success near
Chambly, and of the cutting to pieces at that point
of the French Regiment de la Reine. Some one had
seen great fires near Montreal and had taken it as
evidence of a British camp in that neighbourhood. On
one occasion a French deserter who had spread such
rumours was brought before Murray. A French officer,
a prisoner on parole, was present. The deserter
declared that the French army was in such distress
and disorganization that it had become a mere
rabble. Murray handed the man a silver dollar. In
Canada, discredited paper money had long been almost
the only currency. The man looked at the dollar:
'This is no French money!' he said, and then added :
'A few of these properly applied would induce even
the Officers, as well as soldiers, of the miserable
French army to follow my example.' At this the
French officer flew into a rage so violent that
Murray threatened him with imprisonment.
When
Murray's soldiers were discouraged by rumours of
reverses in the outside world he resorted to a
stratagem to counteract these reports. On April 3,
after long waiting for news, he sent a sergeant and
four rangers across the river with instructions to
come in on the British outpost at the Point of Levy
as if they were an express from General Amherst. Of
course, only good news could come by such means,
and, without saying anything definite, Murray was
able greatly to encourage the garrison. He adds that
the device visibly affected the French inhabitants
who, however, were well able to keep their own
counsel. Captain Knox says that they showed no
concern or discomposure at unacceptable news, but
only the more sedulously whispered reports of French
victories. |