om the
_Lowestoffe_, and now in the early days of August three British
armies were moving slowly upon Montreal, where Levis and Governor
Vaudreuil had drawn the main French forces together for a last
resistance.
Murray came up the river from Quebec with twenty-four hundred men, in
thirty-two vessels and a fleet of boats in company; followed by Lord
Rollo with thirteen hundred men drawn off from dismantled
Louisbourg. As the ships tacked up the river, with their floating
batteries ranged in line to protect the advance, bodies of French
troops followed them along the shore--regiments of white-coated
infantry and horsemen in blue jackets faced with scarlet.
Bourlamaque watched from the southern shore, Dumas from the northern.
But neither dared to attack; and day after day through the lovely
weather, past fields and settlements and woodlands, between banks
which narrowed until from deck one could listen to the song of birds
on either hand and catch the wafted scent of wild flowers, the
British wound their way to Isle Sainte-Therese below Montreal,
encamped, and waited for their comrades.
From the south came Haviland. He brought thirty-four hundred
regulars, provincials, and Indians from Crown Point on Lake
Champlain, and moved down the Richelieu, driving Bougainville before
him.
Last, descending from the west by the gate of the Great Lakes, came
the Commander in Chief, the cautious Amherst, with eighteen hundred
soldiers and Indians and over eight hundred bateaux and whale-boats.
He had gathered them at Oswego in July, and now in the second week of
August had crossed the lake to its outlet, threaded the channels of
the Thousand Islands, and was bearing down on the broad river towards
Fort Amitie.
And how did it stand with Fort Amitie?
Well, to begin with, the Commandant was thoroughly perplexed.
The British must be near; by latest reports they had reached the
Thousand Islands; even hours were becoming precious, and yet most
unaccountably the reinforcements had not arrived!
What could M. de Vaudreuil be dreaming of? Already the great Indian
leader, Saint-Luc de la Come, had reached Coteau du Lac with a strong
force of militia. Dominique Guyon had been sent down with an urgent
message of inquiry. But what had been La Corne's answer? "I know
not what M. de Vaudreuil intends. My business is to stay here and
watch the rapids."
"Now what can be the meaning of that?" the Commandant demanded of his
brother
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