The joy on those successes, however, was damped by a desponding letter received from General Wolfe before Quebec, on the 14th of October. He had found the enterprise infinitely more difficult than he had conceived, the country strong from every circumstance of situation: the French had a superior Army, had called in every Canadian capable of bearing arms: twenty-two ship-loads of provisions had escaped Admiral Durell, and got into the town; Amherst was not come up: and, above all, Montcalm, the French General, had shown that he understood the natural strength of the country, had posted himself in the most advantageous situation, and was not to be drawn from it by any stratagem which Wolfe, assisted by the steady co-operation of our Fleet, could put in practice. Wolfe, himself, was languishing with the stone, and a complication of disorders, which fatigue and disappointment had brought upon him. Townshend[70] and other officers had crossed him in his plans, but he had not yielded. Himself had been one of the warmest censurers of the miscarried expedition to Rochfort; and he had received this high command upon the assurance that no dangers or difficulties should discourage him. His Army wasted before his eyes by sickness; the season advanced fast which must put an end to his attempts: he had no choice remaining but in variety of difficulties. In the most artful terms that could be framed he left the nation uncertain whether he meaned to prepare an excuse for desisting, or to claim the melancholy merit of having sacrificed himself without a prospect of success. Three days after, an express arrived that Quebec was taken--a conquest heightened by the preceding gloom and despair. The rapidity with which our arms had prevailed in every quarter of the globe made us presume that Canada could not fail of being added to our acquisitions; and however arduously won, it would have sunk in value, if the transient cloud that overcast the dawn of this glory had not made it burst forth with redoubled lustre. The incidents of dramatic fiction could not be conducted with more address to lead an audience from despondency to sudden exultation, than accident prepared to excite the passions of a whole people. They despaired--they triumphed--and they wept--for Wolfe had fallen in the hour of victory! Joy, grief, curiosity, astonishment, were painted in every countenance: the more they inquired, the higher their admiration rose. Not an incident but was heroic and affecting!