James Wolfe was born in 1727 and commissioned into the army at the age of fourteen. In 1759 as a major-general he was sent by William Pitt to Canada in command of an expeditionary force whose task was to take Quebec. The ascent of the Heights of Abraham, the defeat of the French on the plain before Quebec, and the death of Wolfe in the hour of victory, are almost as much part of the national consciousness as the Nelsonian legend. Indeed, there are many similarities between the two heroes. Both were small in stature and ill in health. Both were determined, able, and at times unorthodox. Both were fatally wounded in the hour of their greatest success and died after being assured by subordinates that victory was theirs. Both were held in deep affection by their men. This song was apparently - since it survived orally for nearly 150 years - the most popular of at least four broadsides printed to commemorate Wolfe's death.
Brave Wolfe!
One Monday morning as we set sail,
The wind did blow a pleasant gale,
To fight the French it was our intent,
Through smoke and fire,
Through smoke and fire.
It was a dark and a gloomy night. .
The French were landed on mountain’s high,
While we poor souls in the valley did lie,
Cheer up me lads, General Wolfe did say,
Brave lads of honour,
Brave lads of honour,
Old England she will win the day.
The very first broadside we gave to them,
We wounded a hundred and fifty men,
Well done my lads, General Wolfe did say,
Brave lads of honour,
Brave lads of honour,
Old England she will win the day.
The very next broadside they gave to us,
They wounded our general in his right breast,
And from his breast precious blood did flow,
Like any fountain,
Like any fountain,
And all his men were filled with woe.
Here’s a hundred guineas all in bright gold,
Take it, part it, for my lifes quite cold,
And use your men as you did before,
Your soldiers own,
Your soldiers own,
And they will fight for ever more
And when to England you do return,
Tell all my friends that I am dead and gone,
And tell my tender old mother dear,
That I am dead oh,
That I am dead oh,
And never shall see her no more.
