At the Plains of Abraham

It was on the early morning of September 13th, 1759, a time during the Seven Year’s War that two men, General James Wolfe and General Marquis de Montcalm, with a great band of followers trailing behind, began their march to the Plains of Abraham. Wolfe held a strong, vast army of British soldiers, all of whom were in ideal formation while drawing nearer and nearer to the Plains.

Both armies eventually reached upstream, where they at once fell into position. Wolfe’s army, at the ready, formed a straight, vertical line with their backs to the river while spreading themselves across the great width of the field. It was then that the others hurriedly engaged the British left flank, concealing and hiding themselves among the trees and shrubbery. They were out enemy’s eyes, for now.

Montcalm held a total of thirteen hundred men, as well as two hundred cavalry, two hundred artillery, three hundred native warriors and one hundred and forty Acadian volunteers. However, the majority of these who’d been gathered weren’t told of being involved or expected in taking part of what was to come; a violent clash.

The British troops moved swiftly and promptly, positioning themselves in a thin, shallow horseshoe like arrangement with the main firing line, armed and fully set, being kept back one safe kilometer.

One the left wing, regiments under Townshend exchanged and swapped fire with the militia, successfully capturing a small collection of homes. But the defenders acted just as quickly and just as rapidly. They pushed the British from one home but were repelled and fought firmly off but while retreating, burned and brought to the ground a number of homes in crackling flames, so as to keep them out of enemy hands. Black, smoldering trails of smoke filled the air and brought the place into a deep, darkening haze.

Wolfe, observing the sudden chaos with great thought, caught sight of the inferno at once and in response, instructed his men in situating themselves in the midst of the high grass. Seeing the rise of the sweltering flames and its growing intensity, he knew they’d have no chance in the midst of the cloudy smoke which now cast the Plains into a dark, shadowy gloom.

While they kept to the ground, down in Beauport, a large gathering of French troops were drawing ashore and Montcalm, being one of the few mounted men on the field, decided that a swift assault was the one sure way in dislodging and removing the British from their current position.

It was around ten a.m when Montcalm and his army of men were now ready in line and carefully placed. All were armed, equipped and set to go for what their General had proposed. An assault. An onslaught. He sat proudly on his black stallion and waiving his sword high over his head in encouragement to his men, he gave the order on the advance on the awaiting British line, who watched gravely.

It all happened in sheer seconds and in that small matter of time, blood was shed.

Chaos began.

Those of the French held their fire and there was a brief pause till the French finally unloaded two loud, deafening shots.

BOOM…BOOM!

The shouts and hollers of both Generals screamed over the roaring clash, “Fire!” while nonstop, guns were hastily launched onto the field.
However, at the time, Wolfe and his men proved to be of dominance. They strode forward a couple of steps, the French now being in shock, and fired away. Then, without delay, came an immediate volley, overthrowing the attackers and sending them into retreat.

Wolfe then took to action while the never-ending shots, which continuously came, one after the other. Men scattered this way and that while cries and shouts roared noisily over the field. Whichever way they turned, whether it was left, right, forward or behind, many of them were struck and blown to the ground in cold defeat. The enemy, meanwhile, roamed strongly and sturdily, still firing and triggering away at their opponents who now seemed vulnerable.

As for those who’d been struck, the rumbling sounds of shots and blasts seemed to echo in their ears while they lay helplessly on the field, crushed and trounced in defeat. The madness and the ear-splitting sounds of those being blown to bits screamed on.

It was then that General Wolfe, having been struck in the wrist earlier on during the fight, took care of the wound and though in pain, carried on with his band of soldiers following close behind. The war, the bombs and the roars of thunderous guns and shots and firing blasts never stopped. And so the fight raged on.

Wolfe, in spite of brawling his way through the clash, was struck with two dreadful shots, one low in the stomach and one gash in the chest.
One of the soldiers close by, watched the fight warily and yelled, “They run, see how they run.”

Wolfe, now growing weak, went ahead and gave a great many of orders before turning onto his side, murmuring, though knowing of his triumph, “Now, God be praised, I will die in peace.”

Wolfe was gone and with that, the British troops, now seeing their fallen General went into a muddle of chaos, mayhem and uproar of the French troops, who were drawing away. Most important was Wolfe’s bayonet charge, which led to the French retreating and withdrawing into collapsed havoc.

Up till then, Montcalm had been intact and unharmed and was still carrying through the frantic muddle of mess. While trying to rally up the clutter of hectic troops, he was struck suddenly by a firing shot and making it back to the city, his wounds showed to be just as deadly and fatally as thought and on that early morning, the General passed.

With that, the clash upon the Plains of the Abraham came to an abrupt end in less than one brusque hour and following that on September 18th came the fall of Quebec.

Following the events that occurred from both Generals and their men, on September 8th, 1760, the French capitulated and admitted defeat and Montreal was thereby given to Britain. In regards to Britain’s claim on Montreal, three years later, the Treaty of Paris was signed which declared the official end of the war and ultimately in the end, gave possession of New France to Great Britain.