Source.—The Letters of Horace Walpole: edited by Peter Cunningham. Edinburgh, 1906.

8 Sept., 1757. We had a torrent of bad news yesterday from America. Lord Loudon has found an army of twenty-one thousand French, gives over the design on Louisbourg, and retires to Halifax. Admiral Holbourn writes that they have nineteen ships to his seventeen, and he cannot attack them. It is time for England to slip her own cables and float away into some unknown ocean.

24 Aug., 1758. Our next and greatest triumph is the taking of Cape Breton, the account of which came on Friday. The French have not improved like their wines by crossing the sea; but lost their spirit at Louisbourg as much as on their own coast. The success, especially in the destruction of their fleet, is very great; the triumphs not at all disproportionate to the conquest, of which you will see all the particulars in the Gazette. Now for the chapter of cypresses. The attempt on Crownpoint has failed; Lord Howe was killed in a skirmish; and two days afterward by blunders, rashness and bad intelligence we received a great blow at Ticonderoga.... My hope is that Cape Breton may buy us Minorca and a peace.

9 Feb., 1759. The expedition, called to Quebec, departs on Tuesday next under Wolfe and George Townshend, who has thrust himself again into the service, and, as far as wrongheadedness will go, very proper for a hero. Wolfe, who was no friend of Mr. Conway last year and for whom I consequently have no affection, has great merit, spirit and alacrity, and shone extremely at Louisbourg. I am not such a Juno but I will forgive him after eleven more labours.

16 Oct., 1759. I love to prepare your countenance for every event that may happen, for an ambassador, who is nothing but an actor, should be that greatest of actors, a philosopher; and, with the leave of wise men (that is, hypocrites), philosophy I hold to be little more than presence of mind; now undoubtedly preparation is a prodigious help to presence of mind. In short, you must not be surprised that we have failed at Quebec, as we certainly shall.[2] You may say, if you please, in the style of modern politics, that your court never supposed it could be taken; the attempt was only made to draw off the Russians from the King of Prussia, and leave him at liberty to attack Daun. Two days ago came letters from Wolfe, despairing, as much as heroes can despair. The town is well victualled, Amherst is not arrived, and fifteen thousand men encamped defend it. We have lost many men by the enemy, and some by our friends—that is, we now call our nine thousand only seven thousand.

19 Oct. I had no occasion to be in such a hurry to prepare your ambassadorial countenance; if I had stayed but one day more, I might have left its muscles to behave as they pleased. The notification of a probable disappointment at Quebec came only to heighten the pleasure of the conquest. You may now give yourself what airs you please, you are master of East and West Indies. An ambassador is the only man in the world whom bullying becomes: I beg your pardon, but you are spies, if you are not bragadochios. All precedents are on your side: Persians, Greeks, Romans, always insulted their neighbours when they conquered Quebec....

It was a very singular affair, the generals on both sides slain, and on both sides the second in command wounded; in short, very near what battles should be, in which only the principals ought to suffer. If their army has not ammunition and spirit enough to fall again upon ours before Amherst comes up, all North America is ours.

21 Oct. Instead of the glorious and ever-memorable year 1759, as the newspapers call it, I call it this ever-warm and victorious year: one would think we had plundered East and West Indies of sunshine. Our bells are worn threadbare with ringing for victories.... Adieu! I don't know a word of news less than the conquest of America.

P.S.—You shall hear from me again if we take Mexico or China before Christmas.

20 June, 1760. Who the deuce was thinking of Quebec? America was like a book one has read and done with; or at least if one looked at the book, one just recollected that there was a supplement promised, to contain a chapter on Montreal, the starving and surrender of it—but here are we on a sudden reading our book backwards. An account came two days ago that the French on the march to besiege Quebec had been attacked by General Murray, who got into a mistake and a morass, attacked two bodies that were joined, when he hoped to come up with one of them before the junction, was enclosed, embogged and defeated. By the list of officers killed and wounded, I believe there has been a rueful slaughter,—the place, too, I suppose will be retaken. The year 1760 is not the year 1759.

28 June, 1760. Well, Quebec is come to life again. Last night I went to see the Holdernesses ... in Sion-lane. As Cibber says of the Revolution, I met the Raising of the Siege; that is, I met my Lady in a triumphal car, drawn by a Manx horse thirteen little fingers high, with Lady Emily ... they were going to see the bonfire at the alehouse at the corner. The whole procession returned with me; and from the countess's dressing-room, we saw a battery fired before the house, the mob crying, "God bless the good news!"

5 Oct., 1760. I am afraid you will turn me off from being your gazetteer. Do you know that I came to town to-day by accident, and was here four hours before I heard that Montreal was taken? The express came early this morning. I am so posthumous in my intelligence that you must not expect any intelligence from me.... All I know is, that the bonfires and squibs are drinking General Amherst's health.