Pointe Lévis, Canada

Friday, November 10th, 1775

By dawn on Friday, November 10th, 1775, Colonel Arnold has assembled all our ragged, weary, and formerly famished survivors of the expedition in and around Pointe Lévis. The local population consists of about 150 French settlers, farmers, and now out-of-work ferryboat and gristmill workers. Nearly 100 Indian families are in the neighborhood.

Some of our New England officers have expressed concerns about having lost the element of surprise and being bivouacked in full view, within cannon range of the enemy looking down on us from the formidable walls of Quebec City. Captain Morgan isn’t one of the critics.

He, Col. Arnold, Major Febiger, and Natanis, the English-speaking Abenaki Indian sub-chieftain who befriended the American cause, chose this riverside settlement on the south bank of the St. Lawrence as our encampment for five very good reasons.

First, Colonel Arnold, Natanis, and his brother Sabatis have all been to Quebec City and Pointe Lévis numerous times—Arnold as a merchant, and the Indians as hunters, trappers, traders and warriors. They all know the British are unlikely to shell the Pointe Lévis ferry landing, gristmill, and trading post from the citadel because it would infuriate the wealthy French and British owners. And the casualties among the civilian and Indian families caused by such a cannonade would make General Guy Carleton, the British Governor, the most hated man in Canada.

Second, the French-speaking inhabitants and nearby Indians at Pointe Lévis are friendly and actively helping us acquire—in exchange for hard cash—essential equipment: birch-bark and dugout canoes, paddles, pikes, cooking pots, utensils, and provisions we will need to attack the fortress across the river. Natanis sent seventeen young Abenaki braves up the Chaudière River and brought down to us tentage and personal equipment recovered from our many wrecked batteaux. Our only regret: The locals have few shoes, boots, or warm clothing to share or sell.

Third, ready access to decent food here in Pointe Lévis has been a lifesaver for many—a fact confirmed by Dr. Senter, our expedition’s physician. The importance of good food was enhanced when a gentleman named John Halsted, a New Jersey-born, pro-Patriot merchant, was expelled from Quebec.

Three days ago, in broad daylight, Mr. Halsted rowed across the river and volunteered to aid our cause. He immediately proved his worth by repairing and putting into operation the local gristmill. It is now running around the clock to convert a large store of good, recently harvested wheat into flour so our troops can have, for the first time in months, fresh bread!

For those who have never nearly starved to death, that passage in the Lord’s Prayer, “Give us this day our daily bread . . .” is unlikely to have as much meaning as it does for those of us who have gone for weeks with nothing to eat but broth of boiled shoe leather.