The Winning of Canada | Page 4

when his father knew them.
They hated their British allies almost as much as they hated their
enemies. The long column of redcoats marched through a scowling
mob of citizens, who meanly grudged a night's lodging to the very men
coming there to fight for them. We may be sure that Wolfe thought
little enough of such mean people as he stepped out with the colours
flying above his head. The army halted at Ghent, an ancient city,
famous for its trade and wealth, and defended by walls which had once
resisted Marlborough.
At first there was a good deal to do and see; and George Warde was
there too, as an officer in a cavalry regiment. But Warde had to march
away; and Wolfe was left without any companion of his own age, to
pass his spare time the best way he could. Like another famous soldier,
Frederick the Great, who first won his fame in this very war, he was
fond of music and took lessons on the flute. He also did his best to
improve his French; and when Warde came back the two friends used
to go to the French theatre. Wolfe put his French to other use as well,
and read all the military books he could find time for. He always kept
his kit ready to pack; so that he could have marched anywhere within
two hours of receiving the order. And, though only a mere boy-officer,
he began to learn the duties of an adjutant, so that he might be fit for
promotion whenever the chance should come.
Months wore on and Wolfe was still at Ghent. He had made friends
during his stay, and he tells his mother in September: 'This place is full
of officers, and we never want company. I go to the play once or twice
a week, and talk a little with the ladies, who are very civil and speak
French.' Before Christmas it had been decided at home--where the
war-worn father now was, after a horrible campaign at Cartagena--that

Edward, the younger son, was also to be allowed to join the Army.
Wolfe was delighted. 'My brother is much to be commended for the
pains he takes to improve himself. I hope to see him soon in Flanders,
when, in all probability, before next year is over, we may know
something of our trade.' And so they did!
The two brothers marched for the Rhine early in 1743, both in the same
regiment. James was now sixteen, Edward fifteen. The march was a
terrible one for such delicate boys. The roads were ankle-deep in mud;
the weather was vile; both food and water were very bad. Even the
dauntless Wolfe had to confess to his mother that he was 'very much
fatigued and out of order. I never come into quarters without aching
hips and knees.' Edward, still more delicate, was sent off on a foraging
party to find something for the regiment to eat. He wrote home to his
father from Bonn on April 7: 'We can get nothing upon our march but
eggs and bacon and sour bread. I have no bedding, nor can get it
anywhere. We had a sad march last Monday in the morning. I was
obliged to walk up to my knees in snow, though my brother and I have
a horse between us. I have often lain upon straw, and should oftener,
had I not known some French, which I find very useful; though I was
obliged the other day to speak Latin for a good dinner. We send for
everything we want to the priest.'
That summer, when the king arrived with his son the Duke of
Cumberland, the British and Hanoverian army was reduced to 37,000
half-fed men. Worse still, the old general, Lord Stair, had led it into a
very bad place. These 37,000 men were cooped up on the narrow side
of the valley of the river Main, while a much larger French army was
on the better side, holding bridges by which to cut them off and attack
them while they were all clumped together. Stair tried to slip away in
the night. But the French, hearing of this attempt, sent 12,000 men
across the river to hold the place the British general was leaving, and
30,000 more, under the Duc de Gramont, to block the road at the place
towards which he was evidently marching. At daylight the British and
Hanoverians found themselves cut off, both front and rear, while a third
French force was waiting to pounce on whichever end showed
weakness first. The King of England, who was also Elector of Hanover,

would be a great prize, and the French were eager to capture him. This
was how the armies faced each other on