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 Canadians and eight British militia men under John Coffin, with nine seamen as cannoneers under Barnsfare, the master of a transport. The general listened, and heard no sound; but lights from lanterns on the Plains of Abraham, as well as the signal rockets, had given the alarm; and in the morning twilight, through the storm, his troops were seen in full march from Wolfe's Cove. At their approach to the barrier where Coffin commanded, the sailors stood at their with lighted linstocks.

guns

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! Quebec 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 with grapeshot, Barnsfare discharged them with deadly aim. Aaron Burr, who showed personal bravery and good conduct, escaped unhurt; Montgomery, his aid Macpherson, the young and gallant Cheesman, and ten others fell dead; Montgomery from three wounds. With him the soul of the expedition fled. Donald Campbell, who assumed the command of the Yorkers, seeing no chance of success, ordered an immediate retreat, which was effected without further loss.

On the north-western side of the lower town Arnold led 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 grapeshot, 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 field-piece on a sled; the field-piece 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 beach and the precipice. Near this spot Arnold was wounded in the leg by a musket-ball, and carried off disabled; but Morgan's men, who formed the van, rushed forward to the port-holes and fired into them, while others, Morgan himself the first, Charles Porterfield the second, mounted by ladders, carried the battery, and took its captain and guard prisoners. But Morgan was attended 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 faces of the men were hoar with frost and icicles, their muskets useless in 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, who all 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 north-east gale, Morgan cheered on his riflemen; but, though Heath and Porterfield and a few others in the front files ascended the scalingladders, 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; the assailants were exposed in the narrow street to a heavy fire from houses on both sides; some of the officers received several balls in their clothes; others fell. The moment for retreat soon went by. Some few escaped over the shoal ice on the St. Charles. Near daylight, about two hundred of the Americans took shelter in houses of stone, from which they could fire. It was then that Hendricks, while aiming his rifle, was shot through the heart.

Carleton could now direct all his force against the party of Arnold. By his orders, Captain Laws, with two hundred men, sallied from Palace gate in their rear; Dearborn's company was found divided into two parties, each of which suc

cessively surrendered, leaving "the flower of the rebel army' "cooped up" within the town. Morgan proposed that they should cut their way through their enemies; but it had become impracticable; and, after maintaining the struggle till the last hope was gone, at ten o'clock they gave themselves up. To the captives Carleton proved a humane and generous enemy. The loss of the British was inconsiderable; that of the Americans, in killed or wounded, was about sixty; in prisoners, between three and four hundred.

He was tall and

When the battle was over, thirteen bodies were found at the place now known as Pres-de-Ville. That of Cheesman, whose career had been brief but gallant, had fallen over the rocks. In the pathway lay Macpherson, the pure-minded, youthful enthusiast for liberty, as spotless as the new-fallen snow which was his winding-sheet; full of promise for war, lovely in temper, dear to the army, honored by the affection and confidence of his chief. 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. 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 sympathetic courage. Never negligent of duty, never avoiding danger, discriminating and energetic, he had the power of conducting free men by their voluntary love and esteem. An experienced soldier, he was well versed in letters and in natural science. In private life, he was a good husband, brother, and son, an amiable and faithful friend. 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 aidede-camp, Macpherson, with the honors of war.

At the news of his death, "the city of Philadelphia was in tears; every person seemed to have lost his nearest friend." Congress proclaimed for him "their grateful remembrance, respect, and high veneration; and, desiring to transmit to future ages a truly worthy example of patriotism, conduct, boldness of enterprise, insuperable perseverance, and contempt of dan

ger and death," they reared a marble monument "to the glory of Richard Montgomery."

Frederic of Prussia gave him praise as a military chief. In the British parliament Barré, his veteran fellow-soldier in the late war, wept profusely as he expatiated on their fast friendship and participation of service in the season of enterprise and glory, when Canada was conquered for Britain, and, holding up the British commanders in review, pronounced a glowing tribute to his superior merits. Edmund Burke contrasted the condition of the eight thousand men, starved, disgraced, and shut up within the single town of Boston, with the movements of the hero who in one campaign had conquered two thirds of Canada. "I,” replied North, "cannot join in lamenting the death of Montgomery as a public loss. Curse on his virtues, they've undone his country. He was brave, he was able, he was humane, he was generous; but still he was only a brave, able, humane, and generous rebel." "The term of rebel," retorted Fox, "is no certain mark of disgrace. The great assertors of liberty, the saviors of their country, the benefactors of mankind in all ages, have been called rebels. We owe the constitution which enables us to sit in this house to a rebellion."

So passed away Montgomery, with the love of all that knew him, the grief of the rising republic, and the eulogies of the world.

CHAPTER XX.

ADVANCING TOWARD INDEPENDENCE.

LAST MONTHS OF 1775-MARCH 1776.

A STEADY current drifted the country toward a closer union and independence. The British government refused to treat with the general congress. The American colonies, if they mean to make their resistance effectual, must confine their intercourse with the British government exclusively to the representatives of the colonies in union. In New Jersey the assembly granted the usual annual support of the royal government, and then considered the draft of a separate address to the king; but, as that mode of action tended to insulate the provinces, Dickinson, Jay, and Wythe were sent by the general congress to Burlington, to dissuade from the measure. Admitted to the assembly on the fifth of December, Dickinson invited them to wait and find an answer in the conduct of the parliament and the administration. "After Americans were

put to death without cause at Lexington," said he, “had the new continental congress drawn the sword and thrown away the scabbard, all lovers of liberty would have applauded. To convince Britain that we will fight, an army has been formed and Canada invaded. Success attends us everywhere; the Canadians fight in our cause; so that we have nothing to fear but from Europe, which is three thousand miles distant. Until this controversy, the strength and importance of our country were not known; united it cannot be conquered. Should Britain be unsuccessful in the next campaign, France will not sit still. Nothing but unity and bravery will bring Britain to terms; separate petitions we should avoid, for they would break our