Chapter 19
1758

Louisbourg

The stormy coast of Cape Breton is indented by a small land-locked bay, between which and the ocean lies a tongue of land dotted with a few grazing sheep, and intersected by rows of stone that mark more or less distinctly the lines of what once were streets.   Green mounds and embankments of earth enclose the whole space, and beneath the highest of them yawn arches and caverns of ancient masonry.   This grassy solitude was once the "Dunkirk of America;" the vaulted caverns where the sheep find shelter from the ram were casemates where terrified women sought refuge from storms of shot and shell, and the shapeless green mounds were citadel, bastion, rampart, and glacis.   Here stood Louisbourg; and not all the efforts of its conquerors, nor all the havoc of succeeding times, have availed to efface it.   Men in hundreds toiled for months with lever, spade, and gunpowder in the work of destruction, and for more than a century it has served as a stone quarry; but the remains of its vast defences still tell their tale of human valor and human woe.  

Stand on the mounds that were once the King's Bastion.   The glistening sea spreads eastward three thousand miles, and its waves meet their first rebuff against this iron coast.   Lighthouse Point is white with foam; jets of spray spout from the rocks of Goat Island; mist curls in clouds from the seething surf that lashes the crags of Black Point, and the sea boils like a caldron among the reefs by the harbor's mouth; but on the calm water within, the small fishing vessels rest tranquil at their moorings.   Beyond lies a hamlet of fishermen by the edge of the water, and a few scattered dwellings dot the rough hills, bristled with stunted firs, that gird the quiet basin; while close at hand, within the precinct of the vanished fortress, stand two small farmhouses.   All else is a solitude of ocean, rock, marsh, and forest.  

At the beginning of June, 1758, the place wore another aspect.   Since the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle vast sums had been spent in repairing and strengthening it; and Louisbourg was the strongest fortress in French or British America.   Nevertheless it had its weaknesses.   The original plan of the works had not been fully carried out; and owing, it is said, to the bad quality of the mortar, the masonry of the ramparts was in so poor a condition that it had been replaced in some parts with fascines.   The circuit of the fortifications was more than a mile and a half, and the town contained about four thousand inhabitants.   The best buildings in it were the convent, the hospital, the King's storehouses, and the chapel and governor's quarters, which were under the same roof.   Of the private houses, only seven or eight were of stone, the rest being humble wooden structures, suited to a population of fishermen.   The garrison consisted of the battalions of Artois, Bourgogne, Cambis, and Volontaires Étrangers, with two companies of artillery and twenty-four of colony troops from Canada, in all three thousand and eighty regular troops, besides officers; and to these were added a body of armed inhabitants and a band of Indians.   In the harbor were five ships of the line and seven frigates, carrying in all five hundred and forty-four guns and about three thousand men.   Two hundred and nineteen cannon and seventeen mortars were mounted on the walls and outworks.   Of these last the most important were the Grand Battery on the shore of the harbor opposite its mouth, and the Island Battery on the rocky islet at its entrance.  

The strongest front of the works was on the land side, along the base of the peninsular triangle on which the town stood.   This front, about twelve hundred yards in extent, reached from the sea on the left to the harbor on the right, and consisted of four bastions with then-connecting curtains, the Princess's, the Queen's, the King's, and the Dauphin's.   The King's Bastion formed part of the citadel.   The glacis before it sloped down to an extensive marsh, which, with an adjacent pond, completely protected this part of the line.   On the right, however, towards the harbor, the ground was high enough to offer advantages to an enemy, as was also the case, to a less degree, on the left, towards the sea.   The best defence of Louisbourg was the craggy shore, that, for leagues on either hand, was accessible only at a few points, and even there with difficulty.   All these points were vigilantly watched.  

There had been signs of the enemy from the first opening of spring.   In the intervals of fog, rain, and snow-squalls, sails were seen hovering on the distant sea; and during the latter part of May a squadron of nine ships cruised off the mouth of the harbor, appearing and disappearing, sometimes driven away by gales, sometimes lost in fogs, and sometimes approaching to within cannon-shot of the batteries.   Their object was to blockade the port, in which they failed; for French ships had come in at intervals, till, as we have seen, twelve of them lay safe anchored in the harbor, with more than a year's supply of provisions for the garrison.  

At length, on the first of June, the southeastern horizon was white with a cloud of canvas.   The long-expected crisis was come.   Drucour, the governor, sent two thousand regulars, with about a thousand militia and Indians, to guard the various landing-places; and the rest, aided by the sailors, remained to hold the town.  

At the end of May Admiral Boscawen was at Halifax with twenty-three ships of the line, eighteen frigates and fireships, and a fleet of transports, on board of which were eleven thousand and six hundred soldiers, all regulars, except five hundred provincial rangers.   Amherst had not yet arrived, and on the twenty-eighth, Boscawen, in pursuance of his orders and to prevent loss of time, put to sea without him; but scarcely had the fleet sailed out of Halifax, when they met the ship that bore the expected general.   Amherst took command of the troops; and the expedition held its way till the second of June, when they saw the rocky shore-line of Cape Breton, and descried the masts of the French squadron in the harbor of Louisbourg.  

Boscawen sailed into Gabarus Bay.   The sea was rough; but in the afternoon Amherst, Lawrence, and Wolfe, with a number of naval officers, reconnoitred the shore in boats, coasting it for miles, and approaching it as near as the French batteries would permit.   The rocks were white with surf, and every accessible point was strongly guarded.   Boscawen saw little chance of success.   He sent for his captains, and consulted them separately.   They thought, like him, that it would be rash to attempt a landing, and proposed a council of war.   One of them alone, an old sea officer named Ferguson advised his commander to take the responsibility himself, hold no council, and make the attempt at every risk.   Boscawen took his advice, and declared that he would not leave Gabarus Bay till he had fulfilled his instructions and set the troops on shore.  

West of Louisbourg there were three accessible places, Freshwater Cove, four miles from the town, and Flat Point, and White Point, which were nearer, the last being within a mile of the fortifications.   East of the town there was an inlet called Lorambec, also available for landing.   In order to distract the attention of the enemy, it was resolved to threaten all these places, and to form the troops into three divisions, two of which, under Lawrence and Whitmore, were to advance towards Flat Point and White Point, while a detached regiment was to make a feint at Lorambec.   Wolfe, with the third division, was to make the real attack and try to force a landing at Freshwater Cove, which, as it proved, was the most strongly defended of all.   When on shore Wolfe was an habitual invalid, and when at sea every heave of the ship made him wretched; but his ardor was unquenchable.   Before leaving England he wrote to a friend: "Being of the profession of arms, I would seek all occasions to serve; and therefore have thrown myself in the way of the American war, though I know that the very passage threatens my life, and that my constitution must be utterly ruined and undone.  "

On the next day, the third, the surf was so high that nothing could be attempted.   On the fourth there was a thick fog and a gale.   The frigate "Trent" struck on a rock, and some of the transports were near being stranded.   On the fifth there was another fog and a raging surf.   On the sixth there was fog, with rain in the morning and better weather towards noon, whereupon the signal was made and the troops entered the boats; but the sea rose again, and they were ordered back to the ships.   On the seventh more fog and more surf till night, when the sea grew calmer, and orders were given for another attempt.   At two in the morning of the eighth the troops were in the boats again.   At daybreak the frigates of the squadron, anchoring before each point of real or pretended attack, opened a fierce cannonade on the French intrenchments; and, a quarter of an hour after, the three divisions rowed towards the shore.   That of the left, under Wolfe, consisted of four companies of grenadiers, with the light infantry and New England rangers, followed and supported by Fraser's Highlanders and eight more companies of grenadiers.   They pulled for Freshwater Cove.   Here there was a crescent-shaped beach, a quarter of a mile long, with rocks at each end.   On the shore above, about a thousand Frenchmen, under Lieutenant-Colonel de Saint-Julien, lay behind entrenchments covered in front by spruce and fir trees, felled and laid on the ground with the tops outward.   Eight cannon and swivels were planted to sweep every part of the beach and its approaches, and these pieces were masked by young evergreens stuck in the ground before them.  

The English were allowed to come within close range unmolested.   Then the batteries opened, and a deadly storm of grape and musketry was poured upon the boats.   It was clear in an instant that to advance farther would be destruction; and Wolfe waved his hand as a signal to sheer off.   At some distance on the right, and little exposed to the fire, were three boats of light infantry under Lieutenants Hopkins and Brown and Ensign Grant; who, mistaking the signal or wilfully misinterpreting it, made directly for the shore before them.   It was a few roads east of the beach; a craggy coast and a strand strewn with rocks and lashed with breakers, but sheltered from the cannon by a small projecting point.   The three officers leaped ashore, followed by their men.   Wolfe saw the movement, and hastened to support it.   The boat of Major Scott, who commanded the light infantry and rangers, next came up, and was stove in an instant; but Scott gained the shore, climbed the crags, and found himself with ten men in front of some seventy French and Indians.   Half his followers were killed and wounded, and three bullets were shot through his clothes; but with admirable gallantry he held his ground till others came to his aid.   The remaining boats now reached the landing.   Many were stove among the rocks, and others were overset; some of the men were dragged back by the surf and drowned; some lost their muskets, and were drenched to the skin: but the greater part got safe ashore.   Among the foremost was seen the tall, attenuated form of Brigadier Wolfe, armed with nothing but a cane, as he leaped into the surf and climbed the crags with his soldiers.   As they reached the top they formed in compact order, and attacked and carried with the bayonet the nearest French battery, a few rods distant.   The division of Lawrence soon came up; and as the attention of the enemy was now distracted, they made their landing with little opposition at the farther end of the beach whither they were followed by Amherst himself.   The French, attacked on right and left, and fearing, with good reason, that they would be cut off from the town, abandoned all their cannon and fled into the woods.   About seventy of them were captured and fifty killed.   The rest, circling among the hills and around the marshes, made their way to Louisbourg, and those at the intermediate posts joined their flight.   The English followed through a matted growth of firs till they reached the cleared ground; when the cannon, opening on them from the ramparts, stopped the pursuit.   The first move of the great game was played and won.  

Amherst made his camp just beyond range of the French cannon, and Flat Point Cove was chosen as the landing-place of guns and stores.   Clearing the ground, making roads, and pitching tents filled the rest of the day.   At night there was a glare of flames from the direction of the town.   The French had abandoned the Grand Battery after setting fire to the buildings in it and to the houses and fish-stages along the shore of the harbor.   During the following days stores were landed as fast as the surf would permit: but the task was so difficult that from first to last more than a hundred boats were stove in accomplishing it; and such was the violence of the waves that none of the siege-guns could be got ashore till the eighteenth.   The camp extended two miles along a stream that flowed down to the Cove among the low, woody hills that curved around the town and harbor.   Redoubts were made to protect its front, and blockhouses to guard its left and rear from the bands of Acadians known to be hovering in the woods.  

Wolfe, with twelve hundred men, made his way six or seven miles round the harbor, took possession of the battery at Lighthouse Point which the French had abandoned, planted guns and mortars, and opened fire on the Island Battery that guarded the entrance.   Other guns were placed at different points along the shore, and soon opened on the French ships.   The ships and batteries replied.   The artillery fight raged night and day; till on the twenty-fifth the island guns were dismounted and silenced.   Wolfe then strengthened his posts, secured his communications, and returned to the main army in front of the town.  

Amherst had reconnoitred the ground and chosen a hillock at the edge of the marsh, less than half a mile from the ramparts, as the point for opening his trenches.   A road with an epaulement to protect it must first be made to the spot; and as the way was over a tract of deep mud covered with water-weeds and moss, the labor was prodigious.   A thousand men worked at it day and night under the fire of the town and ships.  

When the French looked landward from their ramparts they could see scarcely a sign of the impending storm.   Behind them Wolfe's cannon were playing busily from Lighthouse Point and the heights around the harbor; but, before them, the broad flat marsh and the low hills seemed almost a solitude.   Two miles distant, they could descry some of the English tents; but the greater part were hidden by the inequalities of the ground.   On the right, a prolongation of the harbor reached nearly half a mile beyond the town, ending in a small lagoon formed by a projecting sandbar, and known as the Barachois.   Near this bar lay moored the little frigate "Aréthuse," under a gallant officer named Vauquelin.   Her position was a perilous one; but so long as she could maintain it she could sweep with her fire the ground before the works, and seriously impede the operations of the enemy.   The other naval captains were less venturous; and when the English landed, they wanted to leave the harbor and save their ships.   Drucour insisted that they should stay to aid the defence, and they complied; but soon left their moorings and anchored as close as possible under the guns of the town, in order to escape the fire of Wolfe's batteries.   Hence there was great murmuring among the military officers, who would have had them engage the hostile guns at short range.   The frigate "Écho," under cover of a fog, had been sent to Quebec for aid; but she was chased and captured; and, a day or two after, the French saw her pass the mouth of the harbor with an English flag at her mast-head.  

When Wolfe had silenced the Island Battery, a new and imminent danger threatened Louisbourg.   Boscawen might enter the harbor, overpower the French naval force, and cannonade the town on its weakest side.   Therefore Drucour resolved to sink four large ships at the entrance; and on a dark and foggy night this was successfully accomplished.   Two more vessels were afterwards sunk, and the harbor was then thought safe.  

The English had at last finished their preparations, and were urging on the siege with determined vigor.   The landward view was a solitude no longer.   They could be seen in multitudes piling earth and fascines beyond the hillock at the edge of the marsh.   On the twenty-fifth they occupied the hillock itself, and fortified themselves there under a shower of bombs.   Then they threw up earth on the right, and pushed their approaches towards the Barachois, in spite of a hot fire from the frigate "Aréthuse.  " Next they appeared on the left towards the sea about a third of a mile from the Princess's Bastion.   It was Wolfe, with a strong detachment, throwing up a redoubt and opening an entrenchment.   Late on the night of the ninth of July six hundred French troops sallied to interrupt the work.   The English grenadiers in the trenches fought stubbornly with bayonet and sword, but were forced back to the second line, where a desperate conflict in the dark took place; and after severe loss on both sides the French were driven back.   Some days before, there had been another sortie on the opposite side, near the Barachois, resulting in a repulse of the French and the seizure by Wolfe of a more advanced position.  

Various courtesies were exchanged between the two commanders.   Drucour, on occasion of a flag of truce, wrote to Amherst that there was a surgeon of uncommon skill in Louisbourg, whose services were at the command of any English officer who might need them.   Amherst on his part sent to his enemy letters and messages from wounded Frenchmen in his hands, adding his compliments to Madame Drucour, with an expression of regret for the disquiet to which she was exposed, begging her at the same time to accept a gift of pineapples from the West Indies.   She returned his courtesy by sending him a basket of wine; after which amenities the cannon roared again.   Madame Drucour was a woman of heroic spirit.   Every day she was on the ramparts, where her presence roused the soldiers to enthusiasm; and every day with her own hand she fired three cannon to encourage them.  

The English lines grew closer and closer, and their fire more and more destructive.   Desgouttes, the naval commander, withdrew the "Aréthuse" from her exposed position, where her fire had greatly annoyed the besiegers.   The shot-holes in her sides were plugged up, and in the dark night of the fourteenth of July she was towed through the obstructions in the mouth of the harbor, and sent to France to report the situation of Louisbourg.   More fortunate than her predecessor, she escaped the English in a fog.   Only five vessels now remained afloat in the harbor, and these were feebly manned, as the greater part of their officers and crews had come ashore, to the number of two thousand, lodging under tents in the town, amid the scarcely suppressed murmurs of the army officers.  

On the eighth of July news came that the partisan Boishébert was approaching with four hundred Acadians, Canadians, and Micmacs to attack the English outposts and detachments.   He did little or nothing, however, besides capturing a few stragglers.   On the sixteenth, early in the evening, a party of English, led by Wolfe, dashed forward, drove off a band of French volunteers, seized a rising ground called Hauteur-de-la-Potence, or Gallows Hill, and began to entrench themselves scarcely three hundred yards from the Dauphin's Bastion.   The town opened on them furiously with grapeshot; but in the intervals of the firing the sound of their picks and spades could plainly be heard.   In the morning they were seen throwing up earth like moles as they burrowed their way forward; and on the twenty-first they opened another parallel, within two hundred yards of the rampart.   Still their sappers pushed on.   Every day they had more guns in position, and on right and left their fire grew hotter.   Their pickets made a lodgment along the foot of the glacis, and fired up the slope at the French in the covered way.  

The twenty-first was a memorable day.   In the afternoon a bomb fell on the ship "Célèbre" and set her on fire.   An explosion followed.   The few men on board could not save her, and she drifted from her moorings.   The wind blew the flames into the rigging of the "Entreprenant," and then into that of the "Capricieux.  " At night all three were in full blaze; for when the fire broke out the English batteries turned on them a tempest of shot and shell to prevent it from being extinguished.   The glare of the triple conflagration lighted up the town, the trenches, the harbor, and the surrounding hills, while the burning ships shot off their guns at random as they slowly drifted westward, and grounded at last near the Barachois.   In the morning they were consumed to the water's edge; and of all the squadron the "Prudent" and the "Bienfaisant" alone were left.  

In the citadel, of which the King's Bastion formed the front, there was a large oblong stone building containing the chapel, lodgings for men and officers, and at the southern end the quarters of the Governor.   On the morning after the burning of the ships a shell fell through the roof among a party of soldiers in the chamber below, burst, and set the place on fire.   In half an hour the chapel and all the northern part of the building were in flames; and no sooner did the smoke rise above the bastion than the English threw into it a steady shower of missiles.   Yet soldiers, sailors, and inhabitants hastened to the spot, and labored desperately to check the fire.   They saved the end occupied by Drucour and his wife, but all the rest was destroyed.   Under the adjacent rampart were the casemates, one of which was crowded with wounded officers, and the rest with women and children seeking shelter in these subterranean dens.   Before the entrances there was a long barrier of timber to protect them from exploding shells; and as the wind blew the flames towards it, there was danger that it would take fire and suffocate those within.   They rushed out, crazed with fright, and ran hither and thither with outcries and shrieks amid the storm of iron.  

In the neighboring Queen's Bastion was a large range of barracks built of wood by the New England troops after their capture of the fortress in 1745.   So flimsy and combustible was it that the French writers call it a "house of cards" and "a paper of matches.  " Here were lodged the greater part of the garrison: but such was the danger of fire, that they were now ordered to leave it; and they accordingly lay in the streets or along the foot of the ramparts, under shelters of timber which gave some little protection against bombs.   The order was well timed; for on the night after the fire in the King's Bastion, a shell filled with combustibles set this building also in flames.   A fearful scene ensued.   All the English batteries opened upon it.   The roar of mortars and cannon, the rushing and screaming of round-shot and grape, the hissing of fuses and the explosion of grenades and bombs mingled with a storm of musketry from the covered way and trenches; while, by the glare of the conflagration, the English regiments were seen drawn up in battle array, before the ramparts, as if preparing for an assault.  

Two days after, at one o'clock in the morning, a burst of loud cheers was heard in the distance, followed by confused cries and the noise of musketry, which lasted but a moment.   Six hundred English sailors had silently rowed into the harbor and seized the two remaining ships, the "Prudent" and the "Bienfaisant.  " After the first hubbub all was silent for half an hour.   Then a light glowed through the thick fog that covered the water.   The "Prudent" was burning.   Being aground with the low tide, her captors had set her on fire, allowing the men on board to escape to the town in her boats.   The flames soon wrapped her from stem to stern; and as the broad glare pierced the illumined mists, the English sailors, reckless of shot and shell, towed her companion-ship, with all on board, to a safe anchorage under Wolfe's batteries.  

The position of the besieged was deplorable.   Nearly a fourth of their number were in the hospitals; while the rest, exhausted with incessant toil, could find no place to snatch an hour of sleep; "and yet," says an officer, "they still show ardor.  " "To-day," he again says, on the twenty-fourth, "the fire of the place is so weak that it is more like funeral guns than a defence.  " On the front of the town only four cannon could fire at all.   The rest were either dismounted or silenced by the musketry from the trenches.   The masonry of the ramparts had been shaken by the concussion of their own guns; and now, in the Dauphin's and King's bastions, the English shot brought it down in masses.   The trenches had been pushed so close on the rising grounds at the right that a great part of the covered way was enfiladed, while a battery on a hill across the harbor swept the whole front with a flank fire.   Amherst had ordered the gunners to spare the houses of the town; but, according to French accounts, the order had little effect, for shot and shell fell everywhere.   "There is not a house in the place," says the Diary just quoted, "that has not felt the effects of this formidable artillery.   From yesterday morning till seven o'clock this evening we reckon that a thousand or twelve hundred bombs, great and small, have been thrown into the town, accompanied all the time by the fire of forty pieces of cannon, served with an activity not often seen.   The hospital and the houses around it, which also serve as hospitals, are attacked with cannon and mortar.   The surgeon trembles as he amputates a limb amid cries of Gare la bombe! and leaves his patient in the midst of the operation, lest he should share his fate.   The sick and wounded, stretched on mattresses, utter cries of pain, which do not cease till a shot or the bursting of a shell ends them.  ” On the twenty-sixth the last cannon was silenced in front of the town, and the English batteries had made a breach which seemed practicable for assault.  

On the day before, Drucour, with his chief officers and the engineer, Franquet, had made the tour of the covered way, and examined the state of the defences.   All but Franquet were for offering to capitulate.   Early on the next morning a council of war was held, at which were present Drucour, Franquet, Desgouttes, naval commander, Houllière, commander of the regulars, and the several chiefs of battalions.   Franquet presented a memorial setting forth the state of the fortifications.   As it was he who had reconstructed and repaired them, he was anxious to show the quality of his work in the best light possible; and therefore, in the view of his auditors, he understated the effects of the English fire.   Hence an altercation arose, ending in a unanimous decision to ask for terms.   Accordingly, at ten o'clock, a white flag was displayed over the breach in the Dauphin's Bastion, and an officer named Loppinot was sent out with offers to capitulate.   The answer was prompt and stern: the garrison must surrender as prisoners of war; a definite reply must be given within an hour; in case of refusal the place will be attacked by land and sea.  

Great was the emotion in the council; and one of its members, D'Anthonay, lieutenant-colonel of the battalion of Volontaires Étrangers, was sent to propose less rigorous terms.   Amherst would not speak with him; and jointly with Boscawen despatched this note to the Governor: 

Sir, We have just received the reply which it has pleased your Excellency to make as to the conditions of the capitulation offered you.   We shall not change in the least our views regarding them.   It depends on your Excellency to accept them or not; and you will have the goodness to give your answer, yes or no, within half an hour.   We have the honor to be, etc.  ,

E.   BOSCAWEN.  
J.   AMHERST.  
Drucour answered as follows: 

Gentlemen, To reply to your Excellencies in as few words as possible, I have the honor to repeat that my position also remains the same, and that I persist in my first resolution.  

I have the honor to be, etc.  ,

The Chevalier de Drucour

In other words, he refused the English terms, and declared his purpose to abide the assault.   Loppinot was sent back to the English camp with this note of defiance.   He was no sooner gone than Prévost, the intendant, an officer of functions purely civil, brought the Governor a memorial which, with or without the knowledge of the military authorities, he had drawn up in anticipation of the emergency.   "The violent resolution which the council continues to hold," said this document, "obliges me, for the good of the state, the preservation of the King's subjects, and the averting of horrors shocking to humanity, to lay before your eyes the consequences that may ensue.   What will become of the four thousand souls who compose the families of this town, of the thousand or twelve hundred sick in the hospitals, and the officers and crews of our unfortunate ships? They will be delivered over to carnage and the rage of an unbridled soldiery, eager for plunder, and impelled to deeds of horror by pretended resentment at what has formerly happened in Canada.   Thus they will all be destroyed, and the memory of their fate will live forever in our colonies.   It remains, Monsieur," continues the paper, "to remind you that the councils you have held thus far have been composed of none but military officers.   I am not surprised at their views.   The glory of the King's arm and the honor of their several corps have inspired them.   You and I alone are charged with the administration of the colony and the care of the King's subjects who compose it.   These gentlemen, therefore, have had no regard for them.   They think only of themselves and their soldiers, whose business it is to encounter the utmost extremity of peril.   It is at the prayer of an intimidated people that I lay before you the considerations specified in this memorial.  "

"In view of these considerations," writes Drucour, "joined to the impossibility of resisting an assault, M.   le Chevalier de Courserac undertook in my behalf to run after the bearer of my answer to the English commander and bring it back.  " It is evident that the bearer of the note had been in no hurry to deliver it, for he had scarcely got beyond the fortifications when Courserac overtook and stopped him.   D'Anthonay, with Duvivier, major of the battalion of Artois, and Loppinot, the first messenger, was then sent to the English camp, empowered to accept the terms imposed.   An English spectator thus describes their arrival: "A lieutenant-colonel came running out of the garrison, making signs at a distance, and bawling out as loud as he could, 'We accept! We accept!' He was followed by two others; and they were all conducted to General Amherst's headquarters.  ” At eleven o'clock at night they returned with the articles of capitulation and the following letter: 

Sir, We have the honor to send your Excellency the articles of capitulation signed.  

Lieutenant-Colonel D'Anthonay has not failed to speak in behalf of the inhabitants of the town; and it is nowise our intention to distress them, but to give them all the aid in our power.  

Your Excellency will have the goodness to sign a duplicate of the articles and send it to us.  

It only remains to assure your Excellency that we shall with great pleasure seize every opportunity to convince your Excellency that we are with the most perfect consideration,

Sir, your Excellency's most obedient servants,

E.   BOSCAWEN.   J.   AMHERST.  

The articles stipulated that the garrison should be sent to England, prisoners of war, in British ships; that all artillery, arms, munitions, and stores, both in Louisbourg and elsewhere on the Island of Cape Breton, as well as on Isle St.  -Jean, now Prince Edward's Island, should be given up intact; that the gate of the Dauphin's Bastion should be delivered to the British troops at eight o'clock in the morning; and that the garrison should lay down their arms at noon.   The victors, on their part, promised to give the French sick and wounded the same care as their own, and to protect private property from pillage.  

Drucour signed the paper at midnight, and in the morning a body of grenadiers took possession of the Dauphin's Gate.   The rude soldiery poured in, swarthy with wind and sun, and begrimed with smoke and dust; the garrison, drawn up on the esplanade, flung down their muskets and marched from the ground with tears of rage; the cross of St.   George floated over the shattered rampart; and Louisbourg, with the two great islands that depended on it, passed to the British Crown.   Guards were posted, a stern discipline was enforced, and perfect order maintained.   The conquerors and the conquered exchanged greetings, and the English general was lavish of courtesies to the brave lady who had aided the defence so well.   "Every favor she asked was granted," says a Frenchman present.  

Drucour and his garrison had made a gallant defence.   It had been his aim to prolong the siege till it should be too late for Amherst to co-operate with Abercromby in an attack on Canada; and in this, at least, he succeeded.  

Five thousand six hundred and thirty-seven officers, soldiers, and sailors were prisoners in the hands of the victors.   Eighteen mortars and two hundred and twenty-one cannon were found in the town, along with a great quantity of arms, munitions, and stores.   At the middle of August such of the prisoners as were not disabled by wounds or sickness were embarked for England, and the merchants and inhabitants were sent to France.   Brigadier Whitmore, as governor of Louisbourg, remained with four regiments to hold guard over the desolation they had made.  

The fall of the French stronghold was hailed in England with noisy rapture.   Addresses of congratulation to the King poured in from all the cities of the kingdom, and the captured flags were hung in St.   Paul's amid the roar of cannon and the shouts of the populace.   The provinces shared these rejoicings.   Sermons of thanksgiving resounded from countless New England pulpits.   At Newport there were fireworks and illuminations; and, adds the pious reporter, "We have reason to believe that Christians will make wise and religious improvement of so signal a favor of Divine Providence.  " At Philadelphia a like display was seen, with music and universal ringing of bells.   At Boston "a stately bonfire like a pyramid was kindled on the top of Fort Hill, which made a lofty and prodigious blaze;" though here certain jealous patriots protested against celebrating a victory won by British regulars, and not by New England men.   At New York there was a grand official dinner at the Province Arms in Broadway, where every loyal toast was echoed by the cannon of Fort George; and illuminations and fireworks closed the day.   In the camp of Abercromby at Lake George, Chaplain Cleaveland, of Bagley's Massachusetts regiment, wrote: 'The General put out orders that the breastwork should be lined with troops, and to fire three rounds for joy, and give thanks to God in a religious way.  ” But nowhere did the tidings find a warmer welcome than in the small detached forts scattered through the solitudes of Nova Scotia, where the military exiles, restless from inaction, listened with greedy ears for every word from the great world whence they were banished.   So slow were their communications with it that the fall of Louisbourg was known in England before it had reached them, all.   Captain John Knox, then in garrison at Annapolis, tells how it was greeted there more than five weeks after the event.   It was the sixth of September.   A sloop from Boston was seen coming up the bay.   Soldiers and officers ran down to the wharf to ask for news.   "Every soul," says Knox, "was impatient, yet shy of asking; at length, the vessel being come near enough to be spoken to, I called out, 'What news from Louisbourg?' To which the master simply replied, and with some gravity, 'Nothing strange.  ' This answer, which was so coldly delivered, threw us all into great consternation, and we looked at each other without being able to speak; some of us even turned away with an intent to return to the fort.   At length one of our soldiers, not yet satisfied, called out with some warmth: 'Damn you, Pumpkin, isn't Louisbourg taken yet?' The poor New England man then answered: 'Taken, yes, above a month ago, and I have been there since; but if you have never heard it before, I have got a good parcel of letters for you now.  ' If our apprehensions were great at first, words are insufficient to express our transports at this speech, the latter part of which we hardly waited for; but instantly all hats flew off, and we made the neighboring woods resound with our cheers and huzzas for almost half an hour.   The master of the sloop was amazed beyond expression, and declared he thought we had heard of the success of our arms eastward before, and had sought to banter him.  ” At night there was a grand bonfire and universal festivity in the fort and village.  

Amherst proceeded to complete his conquest by the subjection of all the adjacent possessions of France.   Major Dalling was sent to occupy Port Espagnol, now Sydney.   Colonel Monckton was despatched to the Bay of Fundy and the River St.   John with an order "to destroy the vermin who are settled there.  ” Lord Rollo, with the thirty-fifth regiment and two battalions of the sixtieth, received the submission of Isle St.  -Jean, and tried to remove the inhabitants, with small success; for out of more than four thousand he could catch but seven hundred.  

The ardent and indomitable Wolfe had been the life of the siege.   Wherever there was need of a quick eye, a prompt decision, and a bold dash, there his lank figure was always in the front.   Yet he was only half pleased with what had been done.   The capture of Louisbourg, he thought, should be but the prelude of greater conquests; and he had hoped that the fleet and army would sail up the St.   Lawrence and attack Quebec.   Impetuous and impatient by nature, and irritable with disease, he chafed at the delay that followed the capitulation, and wrote to his father a few days after it: "We are gathering strawberries and other wild fruits of the country, with a seeming indifference about what is doing in other parts of the world.   Our army, however, on the continent wants our help.  " Growing more anxious, he sent Amherst a note to ask his intentions; and the General replied, "What I most wish to do is to go to Quebec.   I have proposed it to the Admiral, and yesterday he seemed to think it impracticable.  " On which Wolfe wrote again: "If the Admiral will not carry us to Quebec, reinforcements should certainly be sent to the continent without losing a moment.   This damned French garrison take up our time and attention, which might be better bestowed.   The transports are ready, and a small convoy would carry a brigade to Boston or New York.   With the rest of the troops we might make an offensive and destructive war in the Bay of Fundy and the Gulf of St.   Lawrence.   I beg pardon for this freedom, but I cannot look coolly upon the bloody inroads of those hell-hounds, the Canadians; and if nothing further is to be done, I must desire leave to quit the army.  "

Amherst answered that though he had meant at first to go to Quebec with the whole army, late events on the continent made it impossible; and that he now thought it best to go with five or six regiments to the aid of Abercromby.   He asked Wolfe to continue to communicate his views to him, and would not hear for a moment of his leaving the army; adding, "I know nothing that can tend more to His Majesty's service than your assisting in it.  " Wolfe again wrote to his commander, with whom he was on terms of friendship: "An offensive, daring kind of war will awe the Indians and ruin the French.   Blockhouses and a trembling defensive encourage the meanest scoundrels to attack us.   If you will attempt to cut up New France by the roots, I will come with pleasure to assist.  "

Amherst, with such speed as his deliberate nature would permit, sailed with six regiments for Boston to reinforce Abercromby at Lake George, while Wolfe set out on an errand but little to his liking.   He had orders to proceed to Gaspé, Miramichi, and other settlements on the Gulf of St.   Lawrence, destroy them, and disperse their inhabitants; a measure of needless and unpardonable rigor, which, while detesting it, he executed with characteristic thoroughness.   "Sir Charles Hardy and I," he wrote to his father, "are preparing to rob the fishermen of their nets and burn their huts.   When that great exploit is at an end, I return to Louisbourg, and thence to England.  " Having finished the work, he wrote to Amherst: "Your orders were carried into execution.   We have done a great deal of mischief, and spread the terror of His Majesty's arms through the Gulf, but have added nothing to the reputation of them.  " The destruction of property was great; yet, as Knox writes, "he would not suffer the least barbarity to be committed upon the persons of the wretched inhabitants,”

He returned to Louisbourg, and sailed for England to recruit his shattered health for greater conflicts.  

NOTE.   Four long and minute French diaries of the siege of Louisbourg are before me.   The first, that of Drucour, covers a hundred and six folio pages, and contains his correspondence with Amherst, Boscawen, and Desgouttes.   The second is that of the naval captain Tourville, commander of the ship "Capricieux," and covers fifty pages.   The third is by an officer of the garrison whose name does not appear.   The fourth, of about a hundred pages, is by another officer of the garrison, and is also anonymous.   It is an excellent record of what passed each day, and of the changing conditions, moral and physical, of the besieged.   These four Journals, though clearly independent of each other, agree in nearly all essential particulars.   I have also numerous letters from the principal officers, military, naval, and civil, engaged in the defence, Drucour, Desgouttes, Houllière, Beaussier, Marolles, Tourville, Courserac, Franquet, Villejouin, Prévost, and Querdisien.   These, with various other documents relating to the siege, were copied from the originals in the Archives de la Marine.   Among printed authorities on the French side may be mentioned Pichon, Lettres et Mémoires pour servir à l'Histoire du Cap-Breton, and the Campaign of Louisbourg, by the Chevalier Johnstone, a Scotch Jacobite serving under Drucour.  

The chief authorities on the English side are the official Journal of Amherst, printed in the London Magazine and in other contemporary periodicals, and also in Mante, History of the Late War; five letters from Amherst to Pitt, written during the siege (Public Record Office); an excellent private Journal called An Authentic Account of the Reduction of Louisbourg, by a Spectator, parts of which have been copied verbatim by Entick without acknowledgement; the admirable Journal of Captain John Knox, which contains numerous letters and orders relating to the siege; and the correspondence of Wolfe contained in his Life by Wright.   Before me is the Diary of a captain or subaltern in the army of Amherst at Louisbourg, found in the garret of an old house at Windsor, Nova Scotia, on an estate belonging in 1760 to Chief Justice Deschamps.   I owe the use of it to the kindness of George Wiggins, Esq.  , of Windsor, N.  S.   Mante gives an excellent plan of the siege operations, and another will be found in Jefferys, Natural and Civil History of French Dominions in North America.