Wolfe Silently Descends; Mind Made Up; Thoughts Hushed Quiet Into One
Great Thought; In The Ripple Of The Perpetual Waters, Under The Grim
Cliffs And The Eternal Stars.
Conversing, with his people, he was
heard to recite some passages of Gray's Elegy, lately come out
to those parts; of which, says an ear-witness, he expressed his
admiration in an enthusiastic degree:
'Ah, these are tones of the
Eternal Melodies, are not they? A man might thank heaven had he such a
gift; almost as we might for succeeding here, gentlemen!'
Next morning (Thursday, 13th September, 1759), Wolfe, with his 5.000,
is found to have scrambled up some woody neck in the height, which was
not quite precipitous; has trailed one cannon with him, the seamen
busy bringing up another; and by ten of the clock, stands ranked (just
somewhat in the Frederick way, though on a small scale); ready at all
points for Montcalm, but refusing to be over-ready. Montcalm on first
hearing of him, had made haste: Oui, je les vois ou ils ne doivent
pas etre; je vais les ecraser (to smash them)!" said he, by way of
keeping his people in heart. And he marches up beautifully skilful,
neglecting none of his advantages. His numerous Canadian
sharpshooters, preliminary Indians in the bushes, with a provoking
fire. 'Steady!' orders Wolfe; 'from you, not one shot till they are
within thirty yards!' And Montcalm, volleying and advancing, can get
no response, more than from Druidic stones; till at thirty yards, the
stones become vocal - and continued so at a dreadful rate; and in a
space of seventeen minutes, have blown Montcalm's regulars, and their
second in command, and their third into ruin and destruction.
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