condition, their governor absent, the inhabitants disaffected, and but an handful of troops in the garrison. When general Carleton left the neighbourhood of Montreal, he made the utmost dispatch to reach and put the capital of Canada in a proper state of defence; but he found Quebec in the greatest consternation and danger, from a quarter not apprehended, and scarcely conceived possible, from the novelty and hazard of the undertaking.
A detachment of upwards of one thousand men had been marched from the army near Boston. The command of this little band had been given to colonel Arnold, a young soldier of fortune, who held in equal contempt both danger and principle. They took passage at Merrimack, and arrived at the mouth of the Kennebeck on the twenty-second of September. There, finding it probable their provisions [261] might fall short, when there could be no possibility of a fresh supply, Arnold sent back three hundred of his men.* Most of the remainder embarked in batteaux prepared for the purpose: a small division of the troops marched slowly, and kept the banks of the river.
They encamped together every night, though frequently interrupted in their progress, by rocks, falls, rapids, and carrying-places, where they were obliged to carry their boats for several miles together on their shoulders. With incredible perseverance, they traversed woods, mountains, swamps, and precipices, and were obliged alternately to cut their way where no human foot had trodden, to ford shallows, or attempt the navigation of a rapid stream, with a rocky bottom, which seemed not designed as a passage for any human being to attempt. At the same time their provisions were so reduced, that they were obliged to eat their own dogs, and convert their shoe-leather into food.
But with astonishing resolution, they surmounted every obstacle, and near two thirds of the detachment completed a route of several hundred miles, through an hideous wilderness, unexplored before but by the beasts and savages of the forest. It was at the time thought, that if the historian did justice to the heroic firmness [262] of this little party, that it would be as honorable a testimony of the exertions of human intrepidity, as the celebrated march of the renowned Hannibal: but the enterprising spirit of America has since taught her sons to tread over a track of the forlorn desert so much more extensive, that this now appears but an epitome of their hardihood.
Colonel Arnold with his little army almost exhausted by hunger and fatigue, reached the Canadian settlements on the third of November. He was received in a friendly manner, and a liberal supply of provisions was collected for his relief. By the alacrity of the inhabitants, he was in a few days furnished with boats to cross the St. Lawrence, and by favor of the night he effected his passage, in spite of the vigilance of several frigates that lay in the river. When he sat down before Quebec, he found all the batteries manned from the shipping; but having no artillery, he could do little more than parade before the city, and wait the arrival of general Montgomery.
In the mean time, general Carleton was not idle; every preparation that courage or vigilance could dictate, was made for the reception of Montgomery. He ordered by proclamation, all who refused to take arms, immediately to quit the city with their wives and children, on peril of being treated with the utmost severity, [263] as rebels and traitors to their king. Many of them obeyed, and abandoned their residence and property. The Scotch inhabitants and the French noblesse, he could at that time firmly rely on; all others, disgusted with the Quebec act, and alienated by the severity of the governor, were in a temper to renounce their loyalty, and join the Americans. Yet the fear of losing their property in the confusion that might ensue, if the city was obliged to change its masters, operated on some, and caused them to arm, though with great reluctance. The consideration of pecuniary losses will always have a powerful influence on the minds of men: thus, the zeal which had been nurtured for the defence of liberty, soon began to abate; and both English and Canadians, actuated by the principle of immediate self-interest, concealed their former defection to the British government. Many of them were wealthy and opulent, and became daily more disposed to unite in defence of the town, which contained more families in opulent circumstances, than all the province besides.
After placing a garrison in Montreal, new clothing his troops, and stationing some small detachments in the out-posts in the neighbourhood, general Montgomery sent a few troops to different parts of the province, to expedite farther supplies of provisions, clothing, and other necessaries. He then pushed on his march beneath the fall of snows, embarrassed [264] with bad roads, a severe winter, an inhospitable climate, and the murmur of his little army. The term of their enlistment was nearly expired; nothing kept them together but their attachment to their commander, and that zeal in the public cause, which had already prompted them to encounter perils and endure hardships, which the human constitution seems not calculated to surmount, after being softened by the habits of civilized life. But by the address of the commander, and the resolution of the troops, they with incredible expedition arrived at Quebec, notwithstanding the impediments that lay in their way.
The soldiers in garrison, with the marines from the king’s frigates, that had been placed therein, and the armed militia, both French and English, did not amount to more than two thousand men when the army arrived from Montreal; but by the intrepidity of general Carleton, and the activity of his officers, they had prepared for defence with the spirit of veterans. They rejected with disdain a summons from Montgomery to surrender the town, to prevent the fatal consequences of its being taken by storm; fired on the flag that offered to convey letters with proposals for capitulation, obliged it to retire, and all communication was forbidden by the inflexible Carleton.
[265] General Montgomery after this, sent a second letter* by colonel Arnold and Mr. Macpherson, his aid-de-camp, to general Carleton. He upbraided him with personal ill-treatment, with the cruelty exercised towards the prisoners that had fallen into his hands, and with the unparallelled conduct, except among savages, of firing at a flag of truce. He warned him not to destroy either public or private stores, as he had done at Montreal, and kept up a tone of superiority as if sure of success. The messengers reached the walls of Quebec, but were ordered to decamp with speed, and informed that the governor would receive no letters or hold any intercourse with rebels.
Thus circumstanced, general Montgomery judged that immediate and decided action, was the only means of serving his country, and securing to himself that renown, which the lustre of his former conduct had acquired. Thus, depending too much on his own good fortune, and too little acquainted with the arrangement and vigor within the walls, he resolved on the dangerous and desperate measure of an effort to take the city by escalade. He made his dispositions accordingly, and under the cover of a violent snow-storm, his army in four separate divisions, [266] began the arduous work at the same moment, early on the morning of the thirty-first of December.
But the enemy had gained intelligence of his movements, the alarm had been given, and a signal made for a general engagement in the lower town, some time before Montgomery had reached it. He however pushed on through a narrow passage, with a hanging rock on the one side, and a dangerous precipice of the banks of the river on the other, and with a resolution becoming his character, he gained the first barrier. Warmed with the spirit of magnanimity and a thirst for glory, the inseparable companions of exalted minds, he met undaunted the fire of his enemies, and accompanied by some of his bravest officers, he rushed on to attack a well-defended barricade. But to the regret of the army, the grief of his country, and the inexpressible sorrow of his numerous friends, the valiant Montgomery, with the laurels fresh blooming on his brow, fell at the gates by a random shot from the frozen walls of Quebec.
Connected with one of the first families in New York,* happy in the highest enjoyment of domestic felicity, he was led by principle to quit the occupations of rural life; and animated with an ardent zeal for the cause of human nature, the liberties of mankind, and the glory of America, [267] both his active life, and his heroic death, verified his last expression to his amiable lady . . . “You shall never blush for your Montgomery.”†
His philosophic taste, his pleasing manners, his private virtues, and his military abilities, were acknowledged and revered even by his enemies, who cannot but pronounce the Canadian fields are marked with peculiar glory.
