University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Montmorenci, the French Camp. Montcalm and Levi.
Montcalm.
I've just receiv'd intelligence, that all
The English army is imbark'd in boats,
And one division is already swiftly
Row'd beyond Quebec; the rest by all their
Motions, seem inclin'd to follow them.

Levi.
Then doubtless they'll attempt to land so near
As possible;
Should we not, Sir, endeavour to oppose
And repel them, or give them a baneful
Welcome?

Montcalm.
Of that I've taken care.—
I've order'd Monsieur de Bougainville
To draw out two thousand from the camp, and
Watch their motions: He marches this way,
And will soon be here for order.
[French drums beat a march.
He comes with hasty steps and pleasure in his looks.
Enter Bougainville addressing himself to Montcalm.
Sir, your orders are obey'd:
I've march'd two thousand from the camp, men well
Resolv'd and eager to perform the duty you impose.

Montcalm.
'Tis well Sir;—
May they answer our best expectations.
Proceed you now, and lead these men to the
Banks of the river, and wait in ambush
For the landing of the British troops, and
Choose your posts as time and circumstances
Will permit, to the best advantage.
As they row up the river, be sure you
Upward march likewise; whene'er they stop, then
Halt; if they fall down the stream, retreat with
Them, that in ev'ry shape (like their evil
Genius) you may keep pace with them; and on
Their debarkation, be ready boldly
To receive them, in a show'r of leaden
Vengeance, wing'd with flame.

Bougainville.
Be not afraid Sir, but we'll receive them
As we ought; for tho' they land, cloth'd in all
The terrors their boasted dreadful triple
Union can assume, I doubt not but we
Shall bring back with us, a good account of
These few audacious Britons.

[Going.
Montcalm.
But mark me well, Sir, should they downward bend
Their course, and row as if they meant to reach
Quebec, or Levi's Point again, then
Dispatch me word immediately, and with
Your main corps follow the messenger to
The camp, with all the speed you can.

[Exit Bougainville bowing. French troops beat a march.
Levi.
Think you, Sir, Monsieur de Bougainville
Has troops enough with him, to repel all
The British forces, should they attempt to land?

Montcalm.
All things together weigh'd, I think he has:
He and his corps have often trod the ground,
And in the darkest night can measure out
Its distance well: No thought of ambush can
Alarm them, they tread on friendly ground, and
Are you know sustain'd by savages, train'd
Up to night adventures, and to lurking fights:
These Britons ne'er saw the ground, but at a
Distant view; and when they land, will tread at
Each uncertain step a hostile shore, and
Must come on in dread of pitfalls, breast-works,
Entrenchments, batteries, and ambuscades;
And when they shall receive the fire from our
Two thousand, their own fears, and the horrors
Of the night (full of black uncertainty)
Will multiply them to ten thousand strong.

Levi.
From which I may presume you wou'd infer,
They'll soon retreat back to their boats, or fall
A daring sacrifice, by a brisk fire,
Kept up by our troops and friendly Indians.

Montcalm.
I do infer no less:—
Yet policy suggests I shou'd not march
Our main body thither, lest they evade
Us, and in the night returning, make good
Their landing at Montmorenci, and seize
Upon our camp untenable by few.
You've not forgot the fierce attack they made
On all our troops, in their first bold attempt.
And this I have t'observe, shou'd Bougainville
Be put to rout by rage unparallel'd,
And their rough impetuous charge, they know
Each avenue and path, and safely can
Retreat, whilst we to sustain them march out
With all our force, oppose rage to rage, check
The furious ardor of their souls, and from
Their weary troops, ravish with ease th' infant
Victory.

Levi.
I'm satisfy'd, and cannot doubt success.

Montcalm.
Let us to the camp repair, and put all
In order for an attack upon us,
Or an evacuation: These Britons
Are not to be despis'd; they surely are,
I fear, meditating some grand design.
The gath'ring storm must e'er long fall somewhere;
And on that dubious hour the Gallic
Honour, Canadia's weal, our own bright fame,
Britannia's enterprize, and Wolfe's rising
Glory hangs.
Whene'r it falls, I'll face the low'ring storm,
Let death put on th' most tremendous form;
With Wolfe I'll grapple for the laurel crown,
Tho' mighty fate against my purpose frown:
Yet if I fall, in death, 'tis some relief,
Britons were foes I fought, and wond'rous Wolfe their Chief?
[A woody scene, as if on the top of a hill, or precipice; and as near to the front as possible, to make room for the more ample scene of the Height of Abraham soon after.]
[Colonel behind the scenes.]
Advance briskly on them, my brave fellows!
Climb that precipice, and close with the enemy!

[A discharge of small arms and a shout.
Enter several French soldiers, retreating before an English Colonel, at the head of some light infantry: As they run across the stage, scene draws, and discovers a larger View of the Height of Abraham.