away. LIV. 1775. Dec. man were the first that entered the undefended bar- CHAP. rier, passing on between the rock and the pickets which the carpenters began to saw and wrench While a message was sent back to hurry up the troops, Montgomery went forward to observe the path before him. It was a very narrow defile, falling away to the river precipitously on the one side, and shut in by the scarped rock and overhanging cliff on the other, so that not more than five or six persons could walk abreast; a house built of logs and extending on the south nearly to the river, with loopholes for musketry and a battery of two three-pounders, intercepted the passage. It was held by a party consisting of thirty Canadian and eight British militiamen under John Coffin, with nine seamen under Barnsfare, the master of a transport, as cannoniers. The general listened, and heard no sound; and it was afterwards thought that the guard was not on the alert; but lights from lanterns on the plains of Abraham, as well as the signal rockets, had given the alarm; and at daybreak, through the storm, the body of troops was seen in full march from Wolfe's Cove. At their approach to the barrier, "a part of the guard was scared with a panic;" but Coffin, who during the siege "had never missed an hour's duty," restored order, and the sailors stood at their guns with lighted linstocks. Montgomery waited till about sixty men had joined him inside of the row of pickets; then exclaiming, "Men of New York, you will not fear to follow where your general leads; push on, brave boys; Que. bec is ours!" he pressed forward at double quick time to carry the battery. As he appeared on a little rising in the ground, at a distance of fifty yards or less from the mouths of the cannon, which were loaded Dec. CHAP. with grapeshot, Barnsfare discharged them with deadLIV. ly aim. Montgomery, his aid Macpherson, the young 1775. and gallant Cheesman, and ten others, instantly fell dead; Montgomery from three wounds. With him the soul of the expedition fled. Mott was eager to go forward; but some of the men complained that their arms were wet; one or more of the officers thought nothing further could be attempted with wearied troops and no arm but the bayonet; fireballs were thrown by the enemy to light up the scene; their musketeers began to fire from the loopholes of the blockhouse; and Donald Campbell, who assumed the command of the Yorkers, encountered the reproach of ordering an immediate retreat, which was effected without further loss. On the northeastern side of the lower town, Arnold led the forlorn hope, which consisted of more than twice as many troops as followed Montgomery. The path along the St. Charles had been narrowed by masses of ice thrown up from the river; and the battery by which it was commanded might have raked every inch of it with grape shot, while their flank was exposed to musketry from the walls. As they reached Palace Gate, the bells of the city were rung, the drums beat a general alarm, and the cannon began to play. The Americans ran along in single file, holding down their heads on account of the storm, and covering their guns with their coats. Lamb and his company of artillery followed with a fieldpiece on a sled; the fieldpiece was soon abandoned, but he and his men took part in the assault. The first barricade was at the Sault au Matelot, a jutting rock which left little space between the river LIV. Dec. beach and the precipice. Near this spot Arnold CHAP. was severely wounded in the leg by a musket ball and carried off disabled; but Morgan's men, who 1775. formed the van, rushed forward to the portholes and fired into them, while others, Charles Porterfield the first, Morgan himself the second, mounted by ladders, carried the battery, and took its captain and guard prisoners. But Morgan was at first followed only by his own company and a few Pennsylvanians. It was still very dark; he had no guide; and he knew nothing of the defences of the town. The cold was extreme; so that the men were hoar with icicles. Their muskets were made useless by the storm. The glow of attack began to subside, and the danger of their position to appear. They were soon joined by Greene, Bigelow, and Meigs, so that there were at least two hundred Americans in the town; and they all fearlessly pressed on in the narrow way to the second barricade, at the eastern extremity of Sault au Matelot street, where the defences extended from the rock to the river. Under the direction of Greene, heroic efforts were made to carry them. With a voice louder than the northeast gale, Morgan cheered on his riflemen; but though Heth and Porterfield and a few others in the front files ascended the scaling ladders, it was only to see on the other side rows of troops prepared to receive them on hedges of bayonets if they had leaped down. Here was the greatest loss of life; some of the American officers fell; others received several balls in their clothes; and the assailants, of whose arms nine out of ten had been rendered useless by the storm, were exposed in the narrow street to a heavy fire from houses on both sides. A retreat was CHAP. thought of; but the moment for it soon went by; LIV. though some few escaped, passing over the shoal ice 1775. on the St. Charles. Near daylight, about two hundred of the Americans withdrew from the streets, Dec. and found shelter in houses of stone, from which they When the battle was over, thirteen bodies were found at the place now known as Pres-de-Ville. The body of Cheesman, whose career had been a brief but gallant one, had fallen over the rocks. In the path LIV. Dec. way lay Macpherson, a youth, as spotless as the new- CHAP. fallen snow which was his winding sheet; full of genius for war, lovely in temper, honored by the affection 1775. and confidence of his chief; dear to the army, leaving not his like behind him. There, too, by his side, lay Richard Montgomery, on the spot where he fell. At his death he was in the first month of his fortieth year. He was tall and slender, well limbed, of a graceful address, and a strong and active frame. He could endure fatigue, and all changes and severities of climate. His judgment was cool, though he kindled in action, imparting confidence and sympathetic courage. Never himself negligent of duty, never avoiding danger, discriminating and energetic, he had the power of conducting freemen by their voluntary love and esteem. An experienced soldier, he was also well versed in letters, particularly in natural science. In private life he was a good husband, brother, and son, an amiable and faithful friend. The rectitude of his heart shone forth in his actions, which were habitually and unaffectedly directed by a nice moral sense. He overcame difficulties which others shunned to encounter. Foes and friends paid tribute to his worth. The governor, lieutenant governor, and council of Quebec, and all the principal officers of the garrison, buried him and his aide-de-camp, Macpherson, with the honors of war. At the news of his death "the whole city of Philadelphia was in tears; every person seemed to have lost his nearest relative or heart friend." Congress proclaimed for him "their grateful remembrance, profound respect, and high veneration; and desiring |