I am very late to this party, but in my defense I’ve been busy.1 On July 4, I read and was struck by an article by the Canadian historian Peter MacLeod at War on the Rocks. It was published on that date because it argues that you can explore many of the origins of the American Revolution by looking closely at the American soldiers and sailors who were involved in the British capture of Quebec in 1759.
(For context: this capture took place in the Seven Years War, which was fought among many European and indigenous powers but France and Britain are the relevant ones here. Britain’s victories at Quebec and then Montreal are why Canada recognizes King Charles III today. Quebec is one of those battles that mattered in world history.)
It’s a good article, and I recommend it. MacLeod is sufficiently measured. He does not argue that Quebec caused the American Revolution, and he looks at both soldiers and sailors, which is not always the case. He relies on some first-hand accounts that I had not previously seen. As I said, I liked it.
But I did not like this paragraph:
Then, on Sept. 9, [the British General James] Wolfe had an epiphany. His army would land at night at the Anse au Foulon, just above Quebec, seize a roadway (now the Côte Gilmour) leading up the cliffs, and deploy before the city, forcing Montcalm to come out and fight. The operation succeeded and on Sept. 13 Wolfe defeated Montcalm on the Plains of Abraham.
I’m not picking on MacLeod here. Lots of historians use similar language and give similar credit to Wolfe when describing how the British came to launch their daring midnight assault up the cliffs to the French defenses. But it is simply not true that Wolfe had an epiphany. Not only does that imply some sort of divine intervention, but it also erases the crucial role that Wolfe’s subordinates and naval partners played in the operation of September 13.
What actually happened
First we have to look at a map:
There’s a very long and involved story about how the British got to Quebec; MacLeod covers most of it. Let’s pick up the story in July. The British controlled most of the south shore; the French controlled the city and the north shore. Wolfe had to get the French to come out and fight.
The first point to make is that it was obvious from the moment the British arrived that they had to land on the north shore, and moreover, that the best place to land would be to the west, upriver of the city, which would threaten to cut off Montcalm’s communications with Montreal.
But just because it was obvious didn’t mean it was easy. The prevailing wind was from the west and southwest, and the French batteries in the city covered the river. So Wolfe spent the month of July looking for alternatives to landing upriver. He put troops ashore at Montmorency (at the top of the map), and then, on July 31, launched a poorly-conceived amphibious assault towards Beauport. The British retreated with 210 men killed and 230 wounded.
The navy managed to get a few ships past the city’s batteries upriver in early August, but then on August 19, Wolfe got really sick. It looked like the expedition was doomed. Wolfe was ashore at Montmorency; his expedition was running out of supplies; the weather was going to get worse in a few weeks. Exasperated and feverish, he finally asked his subordinates what they thought he should do.
His three brigadiers met with the naval commander, the highly-underrated Sir Charles Saunders, and other naval officers on board Saunders’ flagship. They drafted a letter to Wolfe with their recommendations. It said:
We [should] … bring the Troops to the South Shore, and … direct the Operations above the town. When we establish ourselves on the North Shore [above Quebec], the French General must fight us on our own Terms: We shall be betwixt him and his provisions, and betwixt him and their Army opposing General Amherst: If he gives us battle, and we defeat him, Quebec and probably all Canada will be ours.2
In other words: Stop messing around below the city. Understand the strategic situation. Get upriver.
And that’s exactly what they did. Wolfe scouted the spot on the cliffs that the troops scaled (led by Colonel William Howe, later famous for his role in the American Revolution). But it was his subordinates and his naval partners that worked the problem and presented him with the solution. It was not an epiphany—it was a perfect example of what today’s military calls joint military operations. Army expertise and naval expertise combined with a good understanding of the context and each other’s capabilities to generate a recommendation for the logical move.
Why do we care
To be clear here, the stakes are really low. In any case, MacLeod’s article really isn’t about Wolfe or about how he won at Quebec. But to understand why MacLeod gave Wolfe credit for his “epiphany,” we have to start here:
Wolfe’s death at the moment of his great victory meant that he was famous as soon as news of it arrived back in Britain. But Benjamin West’s 1770 painting of his death, above, elevated his fame to another level.3
I gave a presentation about Quebec this summer, at a conference that took place in Canada. Based on the reading that I did in preparation, it seemed pretty clear to me that Wolfe’s reputation had suffered in the centuries since his death. Nothing I’ve said so far in this post is original—it’s mostly based on a book published in 1959 and a survey published more than a decade ago. I moved pretty quickly through my criticisms of his generalship, figuring that most people would think it was old news. I was surprised when the audience pressed me to say more about Wolfe and the mistakes he made before September 13. MacLeod’s article appeared a couple of weeks later, and it reinforced the sense I got from the conference that Wolfe’s reputation is actually fairly strong.
Based on my reading, it shouldn’t be. He took too long to solve the problem of how to cut off the city, and he was lucky that when he arrived on the Plains of Abraham, Montcalm came out to fight him.
Quoted in C.P. Stacey, Quebec, 1759: The Siege and the Battle, ed. and with additions by Donald E. Graves (Toronto: Robin Brass Studio, 2002), p. 192. Originally published in 1959.
The National Gallery of Canada has a short description of the artistic significance of the painting: https://www.gallery.ca/collection/artwork/the-death-of-general-wolfe-0.