Then in honour of the great statesman the name of
the fort was changed to Pittsburg. It is still called by that name
and is now one of the world's greatest manufacturing cities; and
where Braddock fought and fell stretches a network of streets.
But although the British had many successes the key of Canada
defied all efforts to take it. Quebec still frowned upon her rock,
invulnerable as in the days of old lion-hearted Frontenac.
Among the men Pitt had chosen to lead the armies in America
was Major-General James Wolfe. He was a long-legged, red-haired
Englishman. There was nothing of the hero about his appearance
except his bright and flashing eyes. It was this man who was sent
to capture Quebec. Many people were astonished at Pitt's choice.
"He is mad," said one stupid old man.
"Mad is he?" said King George. "Then I wish he would bite some
others of my generals."
Led by a daring old sea captain the British war ships passed safely
up the St. Lawrence and anchored off the Isle of Orleans a little
below Quebec.
Once more British guns thundered against the high rock fortress. The
town was laid in ruins, the country round was but a barren waste.
Yet the fortress of Quebec was no nearer being taken than before.
Weeks and months went past, the fleet rocked idly at anchor, the
troops lay almost as idle in their tents.
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