"Well, madame, it seems it is to be war! But instead of money, they have sent us some scanty provisions; and instead of a regiment, some raw recruits to drag out this weary farce, already too long."
"I am sorry you do not look at it more hopefully, monsieur."
"How can I? Think what has happened since last spring. Louisbourg, Frontenac, Duquesne, all lost; famine in our towns; misery in the country; an insane jealousy on the part of the officials which thwarts every move we suggest; corruption to an extent that is almost beyond belief, and on every side of us an active, strong, and enthusiastic enemy. That is the only quarter where we look for fair play!" he ended, with the laugh of a boy who sees his sport before him.
It was impossible that I should plan for return before we saw what move the English might make by sea, so I abandoned all thought of it, and settled down to await the outcome.
At the beginning of June volunteers gathered from the upper parishes, and with the militia and troops from Montreal, crossed over the St. Charles to take their places in the camp where M. de Levis had already projected his works. Day after day we watched the men toiling, and presently our lines of defence began to creep slowly out along the sh.o.r.es of Beauport.
That Hugh was there I knew, but I kept myself from thinking by my daily attendance on Lucy, whose unfailing hope saw its fulfilment almost within touch when I told her of the certain coming of the English. Gay parties of chattering women were made up to go out to the camp and encourage the workers, but my heart ached too wearily even at my own distance to wish for any nearer approach.
I stood with Angelique one evening in the garden of the Hotel-Dieu, and even here the engineers had erected a battery overhanging the steep cliff. Looking up towards the left, we could see the bridge of boats, at the far end of which a hive of busy workers toiled at a fortification, called a hornwork, while immediately below us others were building a boom to be floated across the wide mouth of the St. Charles to protect the bridge, and from this point on, down the banks of the St. Lawrence, lay our main defences.
There the white coats of the regulars mingled with the blue and grey of the Canadians and volunteers. Indians stalked or squatted about, taking no part in a labour they could not understand; officers moved to and fro, directing and encouraging the men, and from the manor of Beauport floated the General"s flag, marking his headquarters.
Before this restless, toiling ma.s.s swept the great empty river, changing its colour with every change of sky which floated over it, while behind stretched the beautiful valley of the St. Charles, its gentle upward sweep of woods broken only by the green fields and white walls of Charlesbourg until it met the range of blue and purple hills which guards it to the north. At a point opposite where we were standing the nearer mountains opened out and shewed a succession of golden hills which seemed, in the tender evening light, as the gates of some heavenly country where all was peace, and the rumour of war could never enter.
At length all preparations were complete, and we waited impatiently for the drama to begin.
Towards the end of June the first English ships were reported, and on the evening of the twenty-second an excited group of ladies gathered on the Battery of the Hotel-Dieu, and through a storm which swept down over the hills, amid the flashing of lightning and to the roar of thunder, we watched their fleet silently file into view in the South Channel, and come to anchor under shelter of the Isle of Orleans. In the chapel the nuns were singing:
"Soutenez, grande Reine, Notre pauvre pays: Il est votre domaine.
Faites fleurir nos lis.
"L"Anglois sur nos frontieres Porte ses etendards.
Exaucez nos prieres, Protegez nos remparts."
And as if in answer, one by one, our watch-fires were kindled, until they twinkled in a long unbroken line from the St. Charles to Montmorenci.
The long siege had begun. Such an array of ships was never before seen from the walls of Quebec. There were the flag-ships of Admirals Saunders, Holmes, and Durell; twenty-three ships of the line, besides frigates, transports, and a flock of smaller craft nestled under shelter of the Island; all these crowded with ten or twelve thousand troops under General Wolfe and his brigadiers, Monckton, Townshend, and Murray, fresh from triumph, and determined on a desperate effort for new conquest.
Face to face with them stretched our long line of defenders, as resolute and as confident--regulars, militia, Indians, and volunteers, and in the ranks of the latter the grandfather stood by the grandson; had the wives and daughters been permitted, many of them, I doubt not, would have held a musket beside those dearest to them.
On land and on water, there was constant change and movement; the stately vessels moved slowly up and down, small boats plied backward and forward, troops were landed where unopposed; on our side of the river every eye was vigilant, guessing what each new move might portend. No one could look upon it without a swifter-beating heart.
Before us swept all "the pomp and circ.u.mstance of war" without any of its horror--as yet--and the panorama in which it was displayed added to its dignity and importance.
We became accustomed to the distant boom of heavy guns, and watched the constant movement of the combatants with much excited comment and foolish security.
It was Gabriel who first brought us face to face with the reality.
We were surprised by his appearance at the house about the middle of July; he looked twenty years older; all his former jauntiness of manner had disappeared, and so dejected was his bearing I could scarce believe it was the same man I had known.
"Mesdames," he said, "my respects to you all, though I come as a bearer of bad tidings."
"No one expects compliments in time of war, Gabriel. Tell me it is not my son, and you may speak freely," said the brave old lady, with a blanched face.
"Thank G.o.d, it is not! He came into camp only yesterday, with a hundred good men behind him, so worn out that they are fitter for the hospital than the field, but good food and rest will set them right again in a week. Ah, madame," he cried, with a sparkle of his old air, "but he has tickled them rarely! Bedame! his name will not smell sweet in their nostrils for many a long day!"
"Then tell us your news, Gabriel; anything else is easily borne."
""Un fou fait toujours commencement," madame, and I know not how to begin. But the English began with M. de Sarennes, and they found him so little to their taste that they have ended by burning the manor at Beaulieu level with the ground, and not a barn nor out-building is left on the domaine."
"If their sons could give such cause for reprisal, there is not a woman in Canada who would not be proud to suffer a like revenge,"
responded the old lady, with unfaltering voice.
"Do not fear, madame, our day will come; and when it comes we will all have our scores to wipe out. I know that I have mine!"
"Surely they have not stooped to burn your cottage?"
"No; it is safe; and so is my Amelia. My quarrel is on my own account. They tricked me on board their fleet by flying our colours, and carried me here."
"Do not dare to stand here and tell me that you piloted them!"
cried the old lady, with the utmost scorn.
"No, madame, I did not."
"Then you may go on," she said, sternly.
"I did not; but it makes little difference, madame."
"It makes every difference whether we are traitors or not! Go on."
"Well, madame, when I found I was trapped I made all the stir I could. I bl.u.s.tered and swore, and, Heaven forgive me! I lied to them as I had never lied before. I boasted like a Bostonnais, and when they commanded me to take charge in the Traverse, I said no, though I had a pistol behind my head and my Amelia before my eyes all the time. But they did not blow my brains out--they only laughed at me. Madame, it is dreadful to be ready to die, and find they only laugh," and the tears streamed down his rugged cheeks as he spake.
"My good Gabriel, we are proud of you! Go on!"
"It was of no use; they had their boats out with flags to mark the channel, and an old devil they called Killick swept me aside as one might a dirty rag, and took command, calling out his directions to the boats and edging the ship along without a mistake, though I prayed with all my soul he might ground her. He was a sorcerer, madame, for he took the ship up as if he had done nothing else all his life. When they were through, they jeered at me in their d.a.m.nable English, and treated me with a kindness that was harder than blows; and then, to add to my shame, they sent me on sh.o.r.e with the women last week, as if they feared me just as little, which was worst of all."
"Never mind, Gabriel. You did all that a brave man could--and the siege is not over yet!"
"That is true, madame," he cried, brightening under her kindly words, "and, saving your honour, "le mulet garde longuement un coup de pied a son maitre," as we say. That is my comfort."
"Will you join M. de Sarennes, Gabriel?" asked Mme. de Sarennes.
"I would like to think he had so good a man beside him."
"No, madame; I have orders to go on board the vessels at Sillery.
I will be of more use there than on sh.o.r.e."
"Good. You will remember Beaulieu when your turn comes with the English!"
"I will, madame, and if le bon Dieu ever allows me that kick, rest a.s.sured it shall be a good one!" and he left us laughing, much comforted in his trouble.
Though never out of the sight and sound of war, we had so far suffered but little in the city itself. We watched with curiosity the English intrenching themselves on the opposite heights of the Pointe de Levy, and there was much speculation among us as to their object. That the city would be bombarded was scouted as ridiculous; but one midnight towards the end of June we were awakened by the heavy booming of artillery, and rushed to our windows to see the heights of the Levy sh.o.r.e flashing with the explosions from the cannon, and the hill beneath us filled with a panting, terror-stricken crowd, laden with every conceivable description of household goods, clambering up past us to gain some corner of safety, while the flames from a shattered warehouse in the Ba.s.se Ville threw an ominous glare over the blackness of the river. War in its most terrifying guise was at our very doors, and had it not been for the heroic calmness of Mme. de Sarennes, we should probably have joined the distracted crowd in the streets. While affrighted women and children, and even men, rushed past in the wildness of their terror, filling the night with the clamour of despair, and exposing themselves to still greater dangers in their efforts to escape, she gathered her little household about her and set fear at defiance.
Dressed with her usual care, she sate in the drawing-room with all the candles lighted, the shutters closed, and the curtains tightly drawn. There was not a trace more colour than usual in her fine, high-bred face, nor a quiver to her slender hands, nor a tremor in her voice as she repeated some familiar psalm, or led us in the prayers we offered unceasingly throughout the long night. Her calmness, superior to the alarm without, dominated over the more ignorant--she put away danger from before them--as her unshaken confidence in a high protection inspired the more courageous.
But, for faint and stout hearted alike, it was a fearful night.
For hours the great guns played without ceasing; at the nearer explosions the very rock on which the house was founded seemed loosened, and the effort to control ourselves and not leap to our feet with the terrified servants became such a strain on Angelique and myself that we dared not let our eyes meet, for fear of an outburst of tears.