Highlanders followed as soon as possible, and the whole army were at once drawn up in line, and the banners of England for the first time waved on the plains of Abraham.

Montcalm, having learned that the English had gained the heights, which in a manner commanded the town in its most vulnerable part, resolved immediately to give them battle.

Having collected his whole force, he advanced early in the morning to the encounter. His right was composed of half the colonial troops, two battalions of disciplined soldiers, and a body of Canadians and savages; his centre consisted of two other regular battalions, and his left of one battalion and the residue of the colonial troops. He also posted fifteen hundred of his best marksmen in the bushes and corn-fields, to keep up an irregular, galling fire upon the English, with directions to single out their objects.

General Wolf, seeing the enemy cross the river St. Charles, and knowing that an action was unavoidable, began immediately to form his line. It consisted of six battalions and the Louisburg grenadiers. The right was commanded by General Moncton, the left by General Murray, and Colonel Howe's light infantry were posted in the rear.

The French commandant having indicated an intention, as he advanced, to outflank the English on the left, General Townsend, with the regiment of Amherst was sent thither, and formed instantly so as to present a double front to the enemy, The English reserve, consisting of one regi. ment of infantry, was drawn up in eight subdivisions, with large spaces between.

Both armies were nearly destitute of artillery; the French having but two small pieces, and the English but a single gun, which a few seamen, with great difficulty, had drawn up from the landing.

The two opposing armies, on the 13th day of September, 1759, at nine o'clock in the morning, were thus put in battle-array, and a territory, equal in extent to one half of Europe, was dependent on its issue. General Wolf took his position on the right of the British troops, at the head of Bragg's regiment and the Louisburg grenadiers. Lieutenant-General, the Marquis De Montcalm, on the left of the French division. The latter advanced to the charge with great vivacity, and in excellent order; their fire, however, was irregular and ineffectual. The British reserved theirs until the French had approached to within about forty yards of their front. The discharge was then tremendous, and continued with such deliberation and spirit, as to produce at once considerable impression. General Wolf being on the right, where the action was hottest, and standing conspicuous in front of the line, was aimed at by several marksmen, and early in the action, received a wound in his wrist. Wrapping, however, his handkerchief around it, he continued giving his orders as though nothing had happened, and without discovering the slightest emotion. The British fire having at length made a deep impression upon the enemy's line, and the latter beginning to recoil, General Wolf advanced

at the head of the grenadiers, with fixed bayonets, and just as the French were about to give way, received a musket ball in his breast, and fell "in the arms of victory."

Every regiment now exerted itself, as though the honor and safety of England and its own, were dependent on the issue. The right pressed on with their bayonets; General Murray advanced with the troops under his command, and broke the centre; and the Highlanders, drawing their broadswords, drove the French with great slaughter before them, across the river St. Charles, and into the city.

General Wolf, on receiving his mortal wound, (being unable to stand.) withdrew a short distance from the scene, and leaning on the shoulder of a lieutenant who sat down for that purpose, seemed, notwithstanding his injury, absorbed by the battle. A messenger at that moment arriving, he eagerly asked, "How are our troops?" And being told that "the enemy were visibly broken," he wished to be lifted up, that he might once more view the field. His eyes were glazed in death-his vision nearly extinguished. The attendants wishing, however, to obey his last behests, were about to lift him up, when an officer standing by, exclaimed: "They fly!-they fly!" "Who?" said the expiring Wolf. "The French!" answered the lieutenant. Then," said the gallant hero, "I die happy!" and expired.

The ball that pierced his bosom had caused a thrill of pleasure, as the immortal spirit, disembodied from its earthly tenement, rose on the wings of battle to meet its God.

General Wolf being slain, and General Moncton dangerously wounded, the command devolved on General Townsend, who hastened to the centre, and finding the troops disordered in the pursuit, formed them again with all possible expedition. This was scarcely effected, before M. De Bougainville, with two thousand fresh troops, assailed him from the rear. A detachment of two battalions, with two pieces of artillery, being sent against the latter, he retreated to the woods and swamps, and thus eluded pursuit. The victory was now complete; five hundred French had been slain in battle, and a thousand were now prisoners to the English, including a number of officers. The French general, M. De Montcalm, was mortally wounded, and conveyed to Quebec, where he died on the next day, after having written a letter to General Townsend, recommending the French prisoners to his humanity. His second in command was wounded also, and left on the field, from whence he was conveyed to the English fleet, and died on the following day. On the part of the victors, but fifty were killed, including nine officers, and about five hundred wounded. Preparations were at once made for investing the upper and lower towns, by the fleet and army. Before, however, any battery was finished, the town capitulated, and the French power in North America was effectually broken.

One or two attempts were afterward made by the French, to regain possession of the city. They proved, however, abortive; and the Eng

lish banners from that time forward till now, have waved on the castle of St. Louis, superseding those of France, after one hundred and fifty years possession.

After the battle, and defeat at the Falls of Montmorency, General Wolf had dispatched an officer to England with a detail of that disaster, written with great accuracy and elegance, in which he observed: “We have almost the whole force of Canada to oppose. In such a choice of difficulties, I am myself at a loss how to determine. The affairs of Great Britain, I know, require the most vigorous measures; but the courage of a handful of brave men should be exerted only where there is some hope of a favorable event."

Although the public acquiesced in the conduct of General Wolf, they were exceedingly mortified at the result, as he seemed to despair of being able to strike any other stroke of importance for the accomplishment of their hopes, which had aspired to nothing less than the conquest of Canada. Their first transports of chagrin, however, had scarcely subsided, when an account of the victory and surrender of Quebec arrived. The fact was immediately communicated to the public in a gazette extraordinary. The public joy rose in proportion to their former despondence-all was rapture and riot, triumph and exultation.

The all-accomplished hero, who had lost his life in the contest, was exalted to a ridiculous degree of hyperbole. "A day of solemn thanksgiving was appointed by proclamation, throughout all the dominions of Great Britain." The city of London, the universities, and many other corporations, presented congratulatory addresses to the king; and the secretary of state, (Mr. Pitt.) at the opening of Parliament, expatiated on the success of the campaign-the transcendent merit of the deceased general, and the conduct and courage of the admirals, officers, and soldiers, who had assisted in its capture.

The House of Commons unanimously resolved to present an address to the king, desiring the erection of a monument to the memory of General Wolf, in Westminster Abbey. A beautiful monument was accordingly erected.

(See note 3.)

The whole of Canada fell with Quebec, and General Townsend, leaving a garrison of five thousand effective men in the latter, commanded by Brigadier Murray, victualled from the fleet, embarked for England.

In succeeding, however, to the power, it was discovered at an early day, that the English had not succeeded to the influence of the French over the aborigines. There is something in the character of a French. man, which adapts him in a peculiar manner to the habits and feelings of the savage-something, which the English never learned or never practiced. "When the French came hither," said a Chippeway chief once in council," they came and kissed us-they called us children, and we found them fathers: we lived like children in the same lodge." It was never so in regard to the English; when the latter, therefore, obtained possession of the country after the surrender of Quebec, a spirit of dis

satisfaction became visible among the numerous savage tribes that resided in the west. This dissatisfaction led afterward to the formation of a plan, conceived with great boldness and executed with wonderful address, for exterminating the English altogether.

There lived at that time near Detroit, an Ottowa chief by the name of Pontiac; one of those high and heroic men, who stamp their own character upon their country and the age. Major Rogers, who commanded the first British force which arrived and took possession of Detroit, in speaking of Pontiac says: "He puts on an air of majesty and princely grandeur, and is greatly honored and revered by his subjects." "As I approached Detroit at the head of a military force," continues Major Rogers, "I was met by an embassy from him, who came to let me know 'that Pontiac was at a small distance, coming peaceably; and that he desired me to halt, until he could see me with his own eyes.' His embassador had orders also to inform me, that he was Pontiac the king, and lord of the country I was in.' When we afterward met, 'he demanded my business into his country, and how I dared to enter it without his leave.' I informed him, that it was not with any design against the Indians that I came, but to remove the French out of the country, who had prevented a friendly intercourse between the English and the Indians. He thereupon told me, 'that he stood in the path I travelled in till morning; and gave me a string of wampum, as much as to say, 'You need not march further without my leave.' When he departed for the night, he inquired if I wanted anything that his country afforded; and if I did, he would send his warriors to fetch it.' I assured him, that any provisions they brought should be paid for; and the next day we were supplied with parched corn and other necessaries. At our second meeting, we smoked the calumet together, and he assured me he had made peace with me and my detachment, and that I might pass through his country unmolested, and relieve the French garrison; that he would protect me and my party; and as an earnest of his friendship, he sent one hundred warriors to protect and assist us in driving one hundred fat cattle we had brought from Pittsburgh for the use of the army. He sent also to several Indian towns, to inform them that I had his consent to enter the country. He attended me constantly till I arrived at Detroit, and was the means of preserving the detachment from the fury of the Indians, who had assembled at the mouth of the strait to cut us off." Notwithstanding the friendly relations apparently subsisting between Pontiac and Major Rogers, the former, it seems, became afterward dissatisfied. The causes of that dissatisfaction are yet unknown. That he was wholly separated from the British interest, is unfortunately too true; and that he afterward connected the western tribes into a confederacy, to inflict the most signal vengeance on his oppressors, is too apparent to require elucidation.

Pontiac reasoned as well as felt, like Philip of Pokanoket before, and Tecumseh afterward; he apprehended danger to his dominions, and to the Indian interests at large, from the English. Danger from their supe

riority in arms, their ambition, and their eagerness to possess every military post on the Continent. Pontiac saw, or thought he saw, a want of cordiality among the English toward the Indians. The French had lived with them-had sent them necessaries-had invited them to their councils-had made them presents-had talked and traded with them, and manifested an interest in their affairs. On the other hand, the English, to use Pontiac's own phrase, "neglected all those circumstances, which made the neighborhood of the French agreeable, and which might have made their own at least tolerable. The conduct of the French never gave rise to suspicion; the conduct of the English never gave rest to it." Pontiac looked into futurity, far enough to foresee the consequences to his race, which would, in all human probability, accompany the English usurpations; and his affection for the French, which does him honor, predisposed him to believe that the English had done his old friends and companions, the French, great injustice. It is possible that the latter may have convinced him, that the English had done injustice to Pontiac himself. That they "had treated him with neglect," is certain. He resolved, therefore, "to shut up the way;" and began first to make speeches, and afterward to dream dreams. The wild and reckless multitude heard with eagerness the story of their wrongs, as it fell from his lips, and his offers of revenge; and a plan of operations was finally concerted, to secure their coöperation along the whole length of the English frontier, exceeding considerably a thousand miles.

One of Pontiac's speeches, being somewhat remarkable, we insert a portion of it here:

Englishmen. It is to you that I speak—and I demand your attention. Englishmen. You know that the French king is our father. He promised to be such, and we, in return, promised to be his children-this promise we have kept.

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Englishmen. It is you that have made war with this, our father. You are his enemy-how then could you have the boldness to venture among us, his children? You know that his enemies are ours!

"Englishmen. We are informed that our father, the king of France, is old and infirm ; and that, being fatigued with making war upon your nation-he is fallen asleep. During his sleep you have taken advantage of him, and possessed yourselves of Canada. But his nap is almost at an end-I think I hear him already stirring, and inquiring for his children the Indians-and when he does awake, what must become of you? He will destroy you utterly!"

We have already remarked, that Pontiac called to his aid the prevalent superstitions of the savages, and "dreamed dreams." In an interview between the Great Spirit and his chosen minister, the Indians were directed to abstain from "ardent spirits, and to cast from them the manufactures of the white men." "Why," said the Great Spirit, "do you suffer these dogs in red clothing to enter your country, and take the land I give you? Drive them from it! and when you are in distress I will help you."

Like other emperors and kings on the eve of war, Pontiac "began to make money." Major Rogers, (in his journal above referred to, pub