13. Heroes and Villains of French and Indian War: The Battle of Montreal and the End of French Run Canada

Prelude to the Final Campaign

My Name is François de Lévis: French Military Commander of New France

I was born in 1719 in Ajac, France, into a noble family with a long tradition of military service. From childhood, I was surrounded by the culture of honor and duty that came with being a soldier. My path was clear, and I entered the French Army at a young age, determined to prove myself in the service of king and country.

Service in Europe

Before my destiny brought me to North America, I served in Europe during the War of Austrian Succession. Those years hardened me as an officer and taught me the complexities of commanding men in difficult circumstances. I gained a reputation as a capable and courageous leader, one who could be trusted to hold the line even when the odds seemed against us.

Sent to New France

In 1756, I was chosen to sail across the Atlantic to assist Governor Vaudreuil and General Montcalm in defending New France against the rising power of the British. My role was to provide command and experience in the field, as the colonies were threatened from multiple directions. I quickly grew into my place as second in command, working alongside Montcalm and often mediating between him and the governor when disagreements arose.

The French and Indian War

The war tested all of us. I took part in campaigns across the Canadian frontier, supporting victories that momentarily checked the British advance. But our resources were always stretched thin, and each battle cost us dearly. When Montcalm fell at the Battle of the Plains of Abraham in 1759, I became the ranking officer in New France. The responsibility of leading our armies fell squarely upon my shoulders.

The Battle of Sainte-Foy

In the spring of 1760, I led our troops into battle against the British outside Quebec at Sainte-Foy. Against the odds, we triumphed, driving them back into the city. It was a proud moment for our army and for me personally, as I had restored hope after Montcalm’s death. Yet victory was hollow. We lacked the reinforcements and supplies to press our advantage, and the arrival of the British fleet sealed our fate.

The Fall of Montreal

Later that year, I was forced to watch as three British armies closed in on Montreal. With no relief from France and no way to match their strength, our situation became impossible. Governor Vaudreuil chose to surrender to spare the colony further suffering. I disagreed with his decision to offer unconditional capitulation and refused to sign the Articles myself, for I believed they dishonored our soldiers. Still, the war was lost, and New France passed into British hands.

Return to France

After the defeat, I returned to France with what honor I could preserve. I continued to serve my king and was later made a marshal of France, one of the highest military distinctions. Though I never returned to Canada, I carried the memory of that land and the brave men who fought under me until my death in 1787.

Legacy

I am remembered as the last French commander to stand against the British in Canada, a soldier who won battles even when the war was slipping away. My leadership at Sainte-Foy showed that France still had fight left in her, even if she lacked the means to prevail. Though we lost New France, I take pride in knowing that I fought with honor to the very end.

The Aftermath of Quebec (1759) – Told by François de Lévis

When the cannons fell silent on the Plains of Abraham in September of 1759, the fate of New France trembled in the balance. Our commander, General Montcalm, was struck down in the battle, and his death left me to inherit both the sorrow and the responsibility of leadership. Quebec, the heart of our colony, had fallen into British hands. The French army had been defeated, but not destroyed. I swore then that the struggle was not over.

A Winter of Hardship

The months that followed were filled with suffering. The people of New France endured hunger, cold, and uncertainty. Supplies from France could not reach us, for the British navy controlled the sea. Yet within this hardship, I saw resilience. Our soldiers, though weary, did not abandon their cause. The habitants, though stretched to their limits, still believed that France might return to claim victory.

Determination to Retake Quebec

In the spring of 1760, I rallied our forces. I gathered what men and resources remained, determined to strike back at the British and restore French honor. Our plan was bold: to march on Quebec before reinforcements could strengthen its defenses. I believed that if we could seize the city, France might still hold Canada. Our spirits were lifted by this chance to reclaim what had been lost, even though the odds were heavy against us.

The Battle of Sainte-Foy

On April 28, 1760, we met the British outside Quebec at Sainte-Foy. This time, fortune favored us. Our men fought with ferocity, and we drove the enemy back into the city’s walls. It was a moment of triumph, a reminder that French courage had not faded with Montcalm’s death. Yet victory brought no salvation. Without reinforcements from across the ocean, we could not complete the siege. The arrival of the British fleet ended our hopes, for their supplies and numbers far outweighed ours.

A Struggle Not Yet Finished

The aftermath of Quebec’s fall left us wounded but not broken. We still dreamed of regaining what was lost, and our determination carried us through another year of fighting. Even as the shadows lengthened over New France, we held to our duty and our honor. For as long as I commanded, I vowed that the British would know that France did not surrender easily, and that her soldiers fought to the last with pride.

My Name is Pierre de Rigaud, Marquis de Vaudreuil: Governor of New France

I was born in 1698 in Quebec, though my family roots stretched deep into France. My father had served honorably as governor of New France before me, and I was raised with the understanding that duty to crown and colony was the highest calling. My education and early military experiences prepared me to continue that legacy, to serve both France and her people across the Atlantic.

Rising Through the Ranks

In my younger years, I pursued service in the French military, distinguishing myself in campaigns that gave me both experience and reputation. By 1755, I was appointed Governor of New France, entrusted with the enormous responsibility of protecting this vast colony in a time of growing tension with Britain. It was no easy task. The colonies were spread across immense distances, and our resources, though rich in land and fur, were meager in soldiers and supplies.

Governor of New France

When I took command, the French Empire in North America was under constant threat from British ambitions. I worked tirelessly to maintain alliances with our Indigenous partners, for they were critical to our survival. I tried to balance the needs of military defense with the demands of the colonists, who faced constant fear of attack and the hardship of war. I relied heavily on commanders such as Montcalm and later Lévis, though at times we disagreed on strategy.

The Struggle with Britain

The war with Britain brought devastation to New France. After the fall of Quebec in 1759, our situation became dire. Supplies from France had dwindled, and our people endured hunger and despair. Still, I hoped that victories like the one at Sainte-Foy might turn the tide. But with British forces pressing from all sides and the Royal Navy blocking any relief from across the Atlantic, it became clear that our position was slipping away.

The Fall of Montreal

In 1760, the British launched their final campaign. Amherst, Murray, and Haviland advanced from three directions, converging upon Montreal. I had little choice but to preserve what remained of our colony’s dignity. Surrounded, outnumbered, and with no hope of aid, I entered into negotiations. On September 8, I signed the Articles of Capitulation, surrendering New France to the British. I fought to secure terms that would protect our colonists, their faith, their property, and their way of life.

Return to France

After the surrender, I returned to France, but my life did not end in honor. I was accused of corruption and blamed for the loss of Canada, though I had fought with every tool at my disposal. In 1763, I was imprisoned in the Bastille, a heavy price for serving my country. Though eventually acquitted, my reputation never recovered.

Legacy

My years as governor of New France remain marked by both failure and determination. I could not save Canada for France, but I fought to save her people from destruction. History remembers me as the last French governor of this great land, a man who faced impossible odds and bore the weight of an empire’s collapse.

Reorganization of French Defenses (1759–1760) – Told by Pierre de Rigaud, Marquis de Vaudreuil

When Quebec fell to the British in September of 1759, the blow struck deep into the heart of New France. Yet the colony itself was not lost. Montreal still stood, and our armies, though battered, were not destroyed. It fell to me as governor to steady the colony, to assure our people that France had not abandoned them, and to prepare for the struggle that would come with the spring.

The Challenge of Winter

The winter of 1759–1760 was bitter and unforgiving. Our soldiers and habitants alike faced hunger and cold, for supplies from France could no longer reach us. The British navy ruled the sea, and what stores we had were stretched thin. Still, I knew that despair could not be allowed to settle. I urged the people to hold firm, to trust that reinforcements might come, and to believe that we still had the strength to resist.

Strengthening the Army

I worked closely with General Lévis, who had taken command of our forces after Montcalm’s death. Together, we reorganized the remnants of our army. We recalled scattered detachments, rebuilt units, and encouraged militia to continue their service. Every musket, every able man, and every scrap of powder mattered. We placed officers where their leadership would inspire confidence, and I pressed for discipline to keep order in a time of hardship.

Securing the People’s Support

Beyond the army, I sought to rally the habitants and the clergy. The people of New France had always shown resilience, and now I asked them for more. Farmers provided what grain they could spare, priests reminded their flocks of their duty to king and country, and families sheltered soldiers when needed. This unity of civilian and military effort was vital to our survival.

Hope for the Spring

Though our stores were low and our soldiers weary, we looked to the spring of 1760 with determination. Lévis planned to march on Quebec as soon as the thaw came, and I gave him my full support. Our preparations during the winter were not simply about survival—they were about striking back. We knew that with courage, clever strategy, and the will of our people, France might yet regain the ground she had lost.

My Name is Jeffery Amherst: Commander-in-Chief of British Forces in America

I was born in 1717 in Riverhead, Kent, England. From an early age, I pursued the path of a soldier, dedicating myself to discipline, training, and loyalty to the crown. Though I came from modest beginnings compared to many of my peers, my determination and competence allowed me to rise steadily in the ranks of the British Army.

Service in Europe

Before I was sent across the Atlantic, I honed my military skills in Europe. I served during the War of Austrian Succession, where I learned much about siege warfare and logistics. These experiences shaped me into a commander who valued planning, supply lines, and discipline above all else. My reputation grew, and I was chosen to take on one of the most critical assignments of the Seven Years’ War.

Sent to North America

In 1758, I was sent to lead British forces in North America during what the colonists called the French and Indian War. France still controlled Canada, and my mission was clear: to break their hold and secure Britain’s supremacy. I took command at the Siege of Louisbourg, where my careful planning and the strength of the Royal Navy brought victory. This triumph opened the path to Quebec and, eventually, Montreal.

The Capture of Canada

As commander-in-chief, I devised the grand strategy to end French power in Canada. In 1760, I directed three British armies—one under my own command, one under James Murray from Quebec, and one under William Haviland from Lake Champlain—to converge upon Montreal. This careful coordination ensured that the French had no escape. When we arrived, the city was surrounded on all sides. The French governor, Vaudreuil, had little choice but to surrender. On September 8, 1760, I accepted the capitulation of New France, ending French rule in Canada forever.

Governor of Virginia and Beyond

Following the conquest, I was appointed Governor of Virginia in name, though I never visited. Instead, I focused on consolidating British power and maintaining order in the colonies. My career advanced further when I was made a baron in 1776, taking the title Lord Amherst. I remained a trusted advisor and soldier for the crown, serving in both military and political roles.

Controversy and Command

Not all remember me with admiration. My reputation has been clouded by accusations regarding my harsh policies toward Indigenous peoples. During Pontiac’s War, my correspondence revealed a willingness to consider the use of disease as a weapon. Though debated, these words have cast a shadow over my legacy, reminding future generations that even celebrated commanders may carry dark stains on their record.

Legacy

I am remembered as the man who brought Canada under British rule, securing a vast new empire for the crown. My life was marked by discipline, loyalty, and ambition, but also by controversy. History will remember me as both a skilled commander who achieved great victories and as a figure whose choices sparked difficult questions about morality and empire.

British Strategic Planning (1760) – Told by Jeffery Amherst

With Quebec in British hands after the battle of 1759, the strength of France in Canada was broken but not yet destroyed. The French still held Montreal and the lands surrounding it, and as long as their forces remained, there was a chance they might regain what they had lost. It fell to me, as commander-in-chief, to devise a plan that would end French rule in North America once and for all.

The Goal of the Campaign

My objective was simple but absolute: the capture of Montreal. Without Montreal, New France would collapse, and France would be stripped of her last great stronghold in Canada. Yet I knew the French governor, Vaudreuil, and General Lévis would not yield easily. I required a strategy that would allow no escape and no hope of relief.

The Three-Pronged Advance

To achieve this, I planned a grand convergence. From Quebec, General James Murray would march upriver with his force, pressing the French from the east. From Lake Champlain, General William Haviland would advance northward, striking at Montreal from the south. And I, leading the largest force, would march down the St. Lawrence River from Lake Ontario, driving in from the west. With all three armies moving in unison, Montreal would be surrounded on every side.

Logistics and Preparation

The strength of this plan lay in its careful organization. Supplies were gathered, boats were readied, and orders were given with precision. The distances were great and the wilderness unforgiving, but I believed that British discipline, combined with naval supremacy on the rivers and seas, would see us through. The Royal Navy had already cut France off from sending reinforcements across the Atlantic, and this gave me confidence that our campaign could not be undone by foreign aid.

The Coming of the End

In the spring of 1760, the plan was set into motion. Step by step, our forces advanced, each moving steadily toward the heart of New France. I knew that if all went as designed, the French would have no choice but to surrender. Our aim was not only to win a battle but to erase France’s presence from Canada entirely, leaving Britain master of the continent.

My Name is William Johnson: Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the Colonies

I was born in 1715 in County Meath, Ireland. My family was not wealthy, but we had ties to the Anglo-Irish gentry. When the opportunity came for me to cross the Atlantic, I seized it. In 1738, I sailed to New York to manage land for my uncle, Admiral Sir Peter Warren. That decision changed the course of my life, for in the colonies I would find both power and influence far beyond what I might have achieved had I remained in Ireland.

Life on the Frontier

Settling in the Mohawk Valley, I worked as a trader and land manager. I quickly realized the importance of relationships with the Native peoples of the region, especially the Mohawk of the Iroquois Confederacy. I learned their language, adopted many of their customs, and earned their respect. I even took a Mohawk woman, Molly Brant, as my partner, binding me closer to their people. These ties would serve me well as Britain and France fought for control of North America.

Rise to Superintendent of Indian Affairs

My close relationships with the Iroquois brought me to the attention of colonial authorities. By 1756, I was named Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the northern colonies. It was my duty to manage Britain’s alliances with Native nations, ensuring their loyalty and preventing them from siding with the French. It was not an easy role, for promises often outpaced what the crown could deliver, and Native peoples had their own interests to protect. Still, I was trusted as a bridge between two worlds.

The French and Indian War

During the war, I played both a diplomatic and military role. I led Iroquois allies and colonial troops at the Battle of Lake George in 1755, where we halted the French advance. Though wounded in the fighting, I gained honor and was made a baronet for my service. Throughout the conflict, I worked tirelessly to keep the Iroquois Confederacy aligned with Britain, reminding them that the French could not be relied upon. Without their aid, Britain’s victories would have been far more difficult.

The Fall of New France

As the war neared its conclusion, my influence became critical. By 1760, when Amherst advanced on Montreal, I ensured that Native diplomacy remained in Britain’s favor. The French could no longer count on their Indigenous allies, many of whom had grown weary of war. When Vaudreuil surrendered Montreal, it was clear that Native voices had shaped the outcome as much as British armies.

Later Years and Challenges

After the war, I continued to serve as Superintendent of Indian Affairs. Yet peace was uneasy. Many Native peoples felt betrayed by Britain’s new policies and expansion into their lands. I did my best to mediate, but tension grew, leading to conflicts like Pontiac’s War. My health, already strained from years of work and injury, declined in these years of unrest.

Legacy

I died in 1774, just before the American colonies descended into revolution. My life is remembered as one of complex loyalties. I was both a servant of the British crown and a man who lived among the Mohawk. I was a warrior, a diplomat, and a frontier leader who shaped the course of empire in North America. History remembers me as the man who built alliances across cultures, helping Britain secure victory in the struggle for Canada.

Native Alliances Shifting – Told by William Johnson

In the years of war between Britain and France, the Native nations of North America held a power that both empires recognized. The Iroquois Confederacy, in particular, stood as a force whose choices could tip the balance of the struggle. The French sought their loyalty, the British sought their friendship, and each tribe weighed its decisions carefully, not for the sake of Europe, but for the survival of their own people.

The Iroquois Position

The Iroquois had long maintained a strategy of balance, refusing to give themselves fully to either France or Britain. They knew that their lands and their way of life depended on playing one side against the other. By the time Quebec fell in 1759, many within the Confederacy saw that the French were weakening. Some leaders advised that continued loyalty to France would bring only ruin, while others argued that Britain, too, could not be fully trusted.

The Pressure of the War

For many tribes, the war brought devastation. Crops were destroyed, villages uprooted, and hunting grounds disrupted. The French, once strong allies, could no longer provide the supplies and protection they had promised. The British, on the other hand, now had the advantage of numbers and ships. Native leaders looked upon this shift with clear eyes, recognizing that survival meant adjusting alliances to meet the new reality.

Decisions of Loyalty

Among the Iroquois, support leaned increasingly toward Britain. My own relationship with the Mohawk and my years of trust among them played a role in this decision. Other tribes hesitated or remained divided, but as the British armies advanced on Montreal in 1760, it was clear that fewer and fewer would raise their weapons in defense of France. Some chose neutrality, while others quietly shifted to Britain’s side, hoping to secure peace when the war was over.

The Future in Question

Though the alliances shifted in Britain’s favor, I understood that this was not a final victory. The Native nations had not surrendered their independence, nor would they accept domination without resistance. For now, their loyalties leaned toward Britain, but I knew that once the French were gone, the true test of our relationships would begin. Britain’s promises would be measured against the needs and expectations of the people who had lived on these lands long before any European flag was planted.

The 1760 Campaign

The Battle of Sainte-Foy (April 1760) – Told by François de Lévis

When the snows of winter began to melt in 1760, I resolved that New France would not accept defeat quietly. Quebec had fallen to the British the year before, but I believed it could be retaken. Our men, though weary, were still capable, and the habitants stood ready to support us. I gathered the troops that remained, regular soldiers, militia, and Native allies, and marched toward Quebec. Our plan was bold: to defeat the British outside the city and force them back into their fortifications.

The Battle Unfolds

On April 28, we met the British army under General Murray on the fields of Sainte-Foy, just west of Quebec. The fighting was fierce and bloody, with both sides determined to claim the day. The ground was slick with mud, and cannon fire tore through our lines, but we pressed forward with discipline and courage. By the afternoon, our efforts broke the British position, and they were forced to retreat within the walls of Quebec. Victory was ours, and the men rejoiced, for it seemed the honor of France had been restored.

A Hollow Triumph

Yet even as we claimed victory, I knew the truth of our situation. We had no supplies to sustain a long siege, no reinforcements to bring us strength, and no ships to challenge the British navy that controlled the river. Inside Quebec, Murray’s forces suffered, but they still had access to the sea. For us, the walls of Quebec were an obstacle we could not breach without aid from France. Every day that passed brought hunger to our ranks and despair to our people.

Waiting for Relief

We pinned our hopes on the arrival of French ships from across the Atlantic. If they could reach us before the British fleet, Quebec might yet be ours again. My men endured hardship with courage, but each week that passed without sails on the horizon weakened our resolve. When the ships finally appeared in May, it was not France’s flag they bore, but Britain’s. Relief for our enemy had arrived, and with it, the last chance of retaking Quebec slipped away.

The Road Ahead

Our victory at Sainte-Foy proved that France’s soldiers could still defeat the British in open battle. But victory without resources is a fragile thing. Without food, ammunition, or reinforcements, we could not hold what we had gained. I was left to retreat and prepare for the defense of Montreal, knowing that the end was drawing near. The battle was a triumph of courage, but it was also a reminder that courage alone cannot win a war when an empire has abandoned its colony.

British Naval Supremacy – Told by Jeffery Amherst

When Britain went to war with France, it was not only our armies that would determine the outcome, but also our ships. The Royal Navy was the backbone of our empire, the force that carried supplies, soldiers, and power across the seas. In the struggle for Canada, it was the navy that gave us the advantage, for with command of the Atlantic, France could not sustain her colonies.

Cutting Off New France

After the fall of Quebec in 1759, I knew that the French would attempt to reclaim their position in the spring. General Lévis did indeed march on Quebec in 1760 and won a hard-fought victory at Sainte-Foy. Yet I was not alarmed, for I trusted the navy. The French could win battles on land, but without ships bringing men and supplies from across the ocean, their victories would mean little. The Royal Navy had spread its reach along the coasts, sealing off the St. Lawrence River and ensuring that no fleet from France would slip through.

The Arrival of Relief

For the French soldiers besieging Quebec, everything depended on which sails appeared first over the horizon in the spring of 1760. They waited for French reinforcements, but instead, it was the British fleet that entered the river. Our ships carried fresh troops, food, and ammunition, while their allies across the sea remained trapped in port or defeated before they could sail. With that, the siege of Quebec was broken, and the French were forced to withdraw.

Why the Navy Decided the War

The war in North America was fought over vast distances and harsh landscapes, but in the end, it was decided on the water. The Royal Navy kept our armies supplied, cut off the French from Europe, and prevented any chance of rescue. No matter how bravely the French fought, their colony could not survive once the sea was no longer theirs.

The Path to Final Victory

With the navy guarding our supply lines and choking off the enemy’s, the way to Montreal lay open. The French were isolated, their hopes of reinforcement shattered. It was this supremacy on the waves that ensured our triumph on land. The capture of New France was not only the victory of our soldiers but also the triumph of British ships that ruled the seas.

The March from Lake Ontario – Told by Jeffery Amherst

When the time came to strike at Montreal in 1760, my strategy depended on three armies moving in unison. General Murray would march from Quebec, General Haviland would advance from Lake Champlain, and I myself would lead the largest column down the St. Lawrence from Lake Ontario. By moving together, we would close the net around the last French stronghold in Canada.

The Difficult Terrain

The march from Lake Ontario was no easy undertaking. The St. Lawrence River stretched long and wide before us, and the country through which we traveled was rough and unforgiving. Our men hauled supplies, built boats, and endured hardships as we pressed forward. The enemy had abandoned many of the forts along the way, leaving behind only scorched earth and broken defenses. Still, every mile we advanced brought us closer to the heart of New France.

Discipline and Determination

I demanded strict order from my troops. Discipline was the strength of the British army, and it was this discipline that allowed us to maintain our pace despite hunger, fatigue, and resistance from the wilderness itself. We repaired bridges, cut paths, and built roads as needed, for no obstacle would halt our progress. I impressed upon the men that their endurance now would bring about the final victory we had sought for so many years.

The St. Lawrence as Our Highway

The river was both a challenge and a gift. It was a barrier that could slow our movement, yet with the Royal Navy and our transport vessels, it became a highway of conquest. Supplies and artillery could be moved swiftly downstream, while our soldiers marched along the banks. The French, unable to contest us on the water, could do little to stop our steady advance.

Closing in on Montreal

As we drew nearer, news reached me that Murray and Haviland were also advancing. The French governor, Vaudreuil, and General Lévis faced a hopeless choice. With British armies converging from three sides, and the navy ensuring their isolation, Montreal could not withstand the pressure. My march from Lake Ontario was the western arm of the great trap, a movement that left no avenue of escape for France in Canada.

Montreal’s Civilian Strain – Told by Pierre de Rigaud, Marquis de Vaudreuil

After the fall of Quebec in 1759, Montreal became the last great center of French power in Canada. It was here that the civilians of New France placed their hopes, believing that we might hold until reinforcements arrived from across the ocean. Yet even as we prepared for defense, the strain upon our people was growing heavier each day.

Food Shortages

The land could not provide enough to sustain both the army and the civilian population. Farms had been raided, trade routes disrupted, and the British blockade cut off the supplies we once received from France. Families who had once lived in modest comfort now faced hunger. Bread became scarce, meat a rarity, and many relied on what little the militia or their neighbors could spare. I saw the suffering in their faces and heard their pleas for relief, yet I had little to offer.

The Struggle for Morale

Hunger and fear weighed heavily upon the hearts of the people. Each day brought news of British advances—Amherst from the west, Murray from the east, Haviland from the south. Rumors spread quickly, often darker than the truth, and it fell to the priests, officers, and myself to remind the people of their duty and to keep hope alive. But even the most faithful began to ask whether France had abandoned them.

Pressure on the Civilians

Montreal was no longer only a city; it was the refuge of thousands who had fled the countryside. Houses overflowed with families seeking shelter, while disease and desperation grew in crowded streets. The civilians bore the burden of war as surely as the soldiers. Many gave their last stores to feed the army, while others clung to prayers that peace might soon end their suffering. The pressure upon them was immense, for they knew that the fate of their homes, their faith, and their future rested on a war they could not control.

A City at the Edge

By the summer of 1760, Montreal stood as a city under siege even before the first British soldier arrived. The shortages, the fear, and the uncertainty gnawed at its people. As governor, I bore the responsibility of guiding them, but I could not shield them from the hardships of war. When the British finally surrounded the city, it was clear to me that it was not only the army but the civilians themselves who had already paid the highest price.

Native Diplomatic Pressure – Told by William Johnson

As the war dragged into its final years, the Native nations of the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence could see what was coming. Once, they had believed that France would hold its ground, that her soldiers and supplies from across the ocean would continue to flow. But after the fall of Quebec and the slow advance of British armies, it became clear that France was weakening. The tribes who had fought alongside the French began to question whether continued war served their survival.

Urging Peace

In council after council, I heard voices from Native leaders urging a different path. They spoke not only to me but also to the French, telling them that peace was the wiser choice. The Iroquois Confederacy, who had long balanced themselves between the empires, pressed more firmly toward Britain’s side, reminding their people that the French could no longer provide food, weapons, or protection. Others who had once been loyal allies to France began to step back, weary of fighting for a cause that seemed lost.

The Weight on the French

This pressure fell heavily on Governor Vaudreuil and General Lévis. Without the support of Native allies, French forces lost both numbers and knowledge of the land. The French commanders saw that when Native warriors withdrew from their ranks, the possibility of carrying on the struggle diminished greatly. What once had been a partnership of necessity was slipping away, and with it the hope of resisting Britain’s strength.

Britain’s Advantage

For my part, I sought to assure the Native nations that Britain would honor their interests if they moved toward peace. I promised trade, protection, and respect for their lands, though I knew even then that not all these promises could be fully kept. Still, my role was to maintain trust, and in those final days, I emphasized that siding with Britain would preserve their people from further ruin.

The Turning Point

By the summer of 1760, Native voices had grown stronger than the French commands. They pressed for peace, for an end to the fighting that had drained their communities and left their villages vulnerable. Their counsel carried weight, and as British armies closed in on Montreal, their pressure helped push the French toward surrender. In the end, diplomacy spoke louder than muskets, reminding both empires that the people of this land sought survival above all else.

The British Convergence on Montreal – Told by Jeffery Amherst

For years we had fought across the wilderness of North America, but by 1760, the time had come to bring the war to its end. My design was simple and decisive: to strike at Montreal from three directions at once, so that no escape and no relief could reach the French. Each army had its part, and together we would close the trap on New France.

Murray from Quebec

To the east, General James Murray marched his troops from Quebec, advancing upriver along the St. Lawrence. His men, though battered by the winter and by the earlier battle at Sainte-Foy, pushed forward with determination. They pressed steadily toward Montreal, cutting off any hope the French had of reclaiming Quebec and bringing pressure upon them from that direction.

Haviland from the South

From the south, General William Haviland advanced from Lake Champlain. His forces moved northward, sweeping aside what resistance they found and securing the passage to the Richelieu River. This march blocked the French from retreating toward the heart of their Native allies and secured Britain’s hold over the southern approach to Montreal.

My March from the West

I myself led the strongest column from Lake Ontario, moving eastward down the St. Lawrence. It was a slow and grueling advance, through river channels, over rapids, and across broken terrain, but the discipline of our army held. Each step brought us closer to the city, and with every mile the French were pressed tighter within their last refuge.

The Encirclement of Montreal

By September, our three armies had joined together. Murray from the east, Haviland from the south, and I from the west—we stood united around Montreal. The French governor, Vaudreuil, and General Lévis could see that their position was hopeless. Surrounded, cut off from the sea, and abandoned by reinforcements from France, they had no path forward. The convergence was complete, and with it, the fate of New France was sealed.

The Surrender

Montreal Encircled (September 1760) – Told by François de Lévis

By the late summer of 1760, it was clear to me that the final struggle for New France had arrived. The British armies moved with relentless precision, and no matter how bravely our soldiers stood, we could not hope to match their numbers or their resources. We had fought hard at Sainte-Foy, but the loss of naval support had doomed any chance of reclaiming Quebec. Now, all eyes turned to Montreal, the last stronghold of France in Canada.

The Enemy on All Sides

From the east, Murray advanced with his army from Quebec. From the south, Haviland pressed up the Richelieu. And from the west, Amherst marched down the St. Lawrence with the largest force of all. Montreal was surrounded on every side. Each report I received confirmed that the noose was tightening, and our troops, though loyal and determined, could do little to stop the tide.

The Weakness Within

Inside the city, we faced not only the threat of British armies but also the despair of our people. Supplies were nearly gone, our soldiers were hungry, and the civilians suffered under the weight of war. Many of our Native allies had already withdrawn, seeing no reason to continue fighting for a cause that could not be won. The strength of France in Canada had withered, leaving us to fight with courage but without hope of relief.

No Aid from Across the Sea

We waited for ships, for some sign that France had not abandoned her colony, but none came. The Royal Navy held the seas, and no reinforcements could break through. Each day I looked to the horizon with fading hope, knowing that our fate rested entirely in what we could do here, with what little remained. But I also knew that bravery could not replace food, powder, and men.

The Final Realization

As the British armies joined hands around Montreal in early September, I understood that our struggle had reached its end. We were trapped, our forces exhausted, and the city hemmed in without any chance of relief. To continue fighting would mean only the destruction of our soldiers and the ruin of our people. The fall of New France was upon us, and though I had sworn to defend it to the last, I could see that the last had now come.

Negotiations for Surrender – Told by Pierre de Rigaud, Marquis de Vaudreuil

When the British armies converged upon Montreal in September of 1760, I knew that the weight of decision rested upon my shoulders. As governor, it was my duty not only to the soldiers under arms but also to the thousands of civilians who depended on me. We had no hope of relief, no supplies to endure a siege, and no allies left to strengthen our cause. Yet surrender was not a matter to be taken lightly. I resolved that if I must yield, it would be on terms that preserved the dignity and welfare of our people.

The First Demands

The British, led by Amherst, were determined to end French power in Canada entirely. Their initial position was firm, for they saw themselves as conquerors. Still, I pressed to remind them that we were not merely soldiers but a nation of families, priests, and settlers who had built lives in this land. My task was to secure assurances that they would not be uprooted or punished for their loyalty to France.

Protecting the Civilians

Foremost in my heart was the fate of the civilians. I demanded that the inhabitants of New France be allowed to retain their property, their religion, and their way of life. The Catholic Church was central to our colony, and I insisted that its priests and institutions be protected under British rule. I sought to calm the fears of families who dreaded that surrender might mean exile or persecution.

The Soldiers’ Dignity

I also thought of the soldiers who had fought bravely under Montcalm, Lévis, and myself. Many of them were weary and broken, but they deserved to return home with honor. I argued that the regular troops should be transported back to France rather than forced into British service or abandoned in a conquered land. Their sacrifice could not be forgotten, and I would not allow them to be treated as spoils of war.

The Articles of Capitulation

After long discussions, the Articles of Capitulation were drafted and signed on September 8, 1760. The British granted protection to civilians, allowing them to keep their property and practice their religion. They agreed to send the French soldiers back to France, though conditions were strict and left little pride for our officers. It was not all that I wished, but it was enough to spare our people from ruin.

A Heavy Heart

Though I succeeded in preserving much for the civilians of New France, I signed the surrender with sorrow. To be the last governor of Canada under France was not the legacy I desired, but it was the fate history placed upon me. In the negotiations, I did all that I could for those who depended on me, and if I failed to preserve the colony, I at least secured mercy for its people.

The Articles of Capitulation (September 8, 1760) – Told by Jeffery Amherst

By early September of 1760, the city of Montreal lay surrounded. Murray had come from Quebec, Haviland had pressed from the south, and I had marched from the west. The French were hemmed in on every side, their supplies exhausted, their allies withdrawing, and their hope of relief cut off by the Royal Navy. It was clear to all that the time for fighting had ended. The French governor, Vaudreuil, approached me to negotiate the terms of surrender.

The French Demands

Vaudreuil came with requests meant to safeguard the people under his charge. He asked that the French civilians be allowed to keep their property, their laws, and their religion. He sought honorable passage for his soldiers back to France, and protection for the Native allies who had fought alongside them. I listened, but I was determined that Britain’s victory would not be diluted. This was not a negotiation of equals; it was the acceptance of defeat.

The British Terms

The Articles of Capitulation were drawn to reflect Britain’s triumph. The French soldiers were to lay down their arms, though I agreed they would be returned to France rather than kept as prisoners. Civilians were assured the free exercise of their Catholic faith, a concession I judged wise to maintain peace in the colony. Their property was protected, though British authority would now rule over the land. As for their Native allies, I refused to extend special protections, for I viewed them as having acted with cruelty during the war.

The Signing of the Articles

On September 8, 1760, the Articles of Capitulation were signed. With that act, New France ceased to exist. The fleur-de-lis was lowered, and the Union Jack rose in its place. It was a moment that ended more than a century of French dominion in Canada and secured Britain’s mastery over North America.

The Weight of Victory

Though I had granted certain protections, the terms were firm and left no doubt of British authority. For me, the Articles were not only the close of a campaign but the fulfillment of a larger imperial vision. The French would depart, the colony would remain, and Britain would now command a vast new territory. The war was not yet finished on a global scale, but here in Canada, the outcome had been decided.

The Role of Native Diplomacy in Capitulation – Told by William Johnson

Throughout the long struggle between Britain and France, the Native nations of North America were not silent observers. They were warriors, allies, and diplomats whose choices shaped the course of the conflict. When the time came for Montreal to surrender in 1760, their voices carried into the negotiations, reminding both sides that the future of this land could not be decided by Europeans alone.

French Allies Seeking Protection

Many of the tribes who had long supported France feared what British victory would mean. They had fought alongside Montcalm and Lévis, losing men and villages in the battles that swept across the colony. With the French now on the verge of defeat, these allies pressed Vaudreuil to secure terms that would guarantee their safety. They demanded that they not be punished, dispossessed, or abandoned in the new order that Britain would impose.

British Reservations

When Vaudreuil brought these concerns into the Articles of Capitulation, I knew how delicate the matter was. The Iroquois Confederacy, with whom I worked closely, leaned toward Britain, but many of the western tribes had stood firmly with France. Amherst and I both recognized the need for caution. Britain would not promise special protections to those who had opposed us, but at the same time, outright hostility would only spark further war.

Diplomacy in the Balance

In councils and in quiet talks, I worked to reassure Native leaders that their voices were heard. I emphasized that Britain wished for peace and that trade would continue under our rule. The French could no longer offer support, and the Native nations understood this reality. While the Articles did not contain the guarantees they had sought, the negotiations were tempered by the presence of their demands.

The Influence on the Outcome

Though not written in full upon the surrender document, Indigenous diplomacy shaped the capitulation. Their pressure forced the French to argue more vigorously for humane terms, and it compelled the British to consider how to maintain stability in a land still filled with powerful Native nations. The surrender of Montreal was not merely the fall of a city; it was also a turning point in the relationship between Britain and the peoples who had lived on this land long before we arrived.

The French Soldiers’ Departure – Told by François de Lévis

When the Articles of Capitulation were signed in Montreal on September 8, 1760, the long fight for New France was finished. For the soldiers who had served under Montcalm and under me, it was the end of a bitter campaign fought with courage but little hope of lasting success. They had stood their ground in distant forts, marched through wilderness and snow, and bled on the fields of Quebec and Sainte-Foy. Now their fate was no longer in their own hands.

The Terms of Return

One of the conditions granted in the surrender was that the French regular soldiers would be transported back to France. It was a small mercy, for they were spared imprisonment, yet it was also a quiet humiliation. They were to leave behind the colony they had fought to defend, the comrades they had buried, and the people they had sworn to protect. The ships that carried them away bore not the pride of victory but the weight of defeat.

The Journey Home

The voyage across the Atlantic was long and somber. Many soldiers were weakened by wounds, hunger, and sickness after years of hardship. They sailed back to a homeland that had promised them support but had failed to send the reinforcements that might have saved New France. I knew that as they disembarked on French soil, they would be received not with triumph but with the shadow of blame.

The Burden They Carried

For these men, the scars of war were not only on their bodies but also on their honor. They had fought bravely and won battles, yet they returned as soldiers of a lost colony. Some would be reassigned to new campaigns in Europe, others would fade into obscurity, but all would remember the wilderness battles and the sense that France had abandoned them.

My Reflection on Their Service

As their commander, I could not help but feel the weight of their departure. They had given all that could be asked of them, and more. If France lost Canada, it was not the fault of her soldiers, but the failure of her empire to sustain them. They returned across the sea as defeated men, but in my eyes, they remained soldiers of honor who had stood their ground until there was nothing left to hold.

Aftermath and Legacy

Life for French Colonists under British Rule – Told by de Vaudreuil

When I signed the Articles of Capitulation in September of 1760, my mind was filled not only with the fate of the soldiers but with the lives of the thousands of civilians who would remain in New France. They were farmers, merchants, priests, and families who had built their homes on this land. For them, defeat did not mean departure but the challenge of living under a new flag. I knew it was my duty to secure terms that would protect them from ruin.

Religious Freedoms

One of the most important promises I pressed upon the British was the preservation of the Catholic faith. The Church was the heart of our community, guiding the people through war and hardship, and I would not abandon it in the surrender. To my relief, the British agreed that the habitants could continue to practice their religion freely, that priests could remain, and that churches would not be closed. Though they were Protestant rulers, they understood that forcing conversion would only sow unrest.

Protection of Property

I also demanded that the colonists be allowed to keep their homes, farms, and lands. Many feared that with the British victory, their property would be confiscated or redistributed. Yet the Articles gave assurance that what they owned would remain theirs. It was not a guarantee of equality, for British rule would bring new laws and pressures, but at least it offered security that their livelihoods would not be torn from them.

The Weight of Uncertainty

Even with these promises, life under British rule was uncertain. The habitants did not know if the British would truly honor the terms, or if restrictions would come later. They feared for their language, their traditions, and their place in a land now governed by strangers. I reminded them to hold fast to their identity, for though the flag above them had changed, their faith, their families, and their communities endured.

My Reflection

As the last French governor of Canada, I could not deliver victory, but I could at least leave my people with dignity. The promises of religious freedom and property rights were my final act of service to them. Whether the British would uphold these promises was a question only time could answer, but I knew that without them, our people would face despair. With them, they carried at least a measure of hope into the uncertain years ahead.

British Control and Military Rule – Told by Jeffery Amherst

With the signing of the Articles of Capitulation, New France passed into British hands. It was my responsibility, as commander-in-chief, to ensure that order was maintained and that the transition of power was swift and decisive. The first step was to establish military rule, for only under firm control could stability be guaranteed in a conquered land.

Establishing Authority

I placed British garrisons in key cities—Montreal, Quebec, and Trois-Rivières—to secure our hold on the colony. The French troops were disarmed and prepared for transport back to their homeland, while the habitants were instructed to continue their daily lives under British watch. Every act of governance now flowed from the army, and it was my duty to enforce the King’s authority with discipline and resolve.

Law and Justice

Civil authority had collapsed with the surrender, so the military assumed the role of law. British officers acted as administrators, judges, and overseers, ensuring that disputes were settled and order was preserved. I permitted the French population to keep their property and religion, as the terms of surrender required, but there would be no mistaking that British law now reigned above all else.

The Role of the Church

I understood that the Catholic Church carried influence over the people, and though I held little respect for it, I allowed it to remain untouched. The priests were permitted to continue their duties so long as they did not interfere with British command. This was a calculated decision, for to suppress religion would have stirred rebellion, but to tolerate it ensured cooperation.

The Weight of Governance

The conquest of Canada was not only a military triumph but the beginning of governance over a vast new territory. My task was to hold the colony in the King’s name until a civil government could be established. Military rule was never meant to last forever, but in those first years it was essential. With discipline, authority, and the presence of our troops, Britain’s control over Canada was made certain.

Native Peoples after French Withdrawal – Told by William Johnson

When the French surrendered Montreal in 1760, the Native nations of the Great Lakes and Ohio Country found themselves in a new and uncertain world. For generations they had balanced between two European powers, drawing strength and trade from both while guarding their independence. With France gone, that balance was broken. Britain now stood alone, and many tribes looked upon this new order with suspicion.

Disappointment with British Policy

The French, though often demanding, had treated their Native allies as partners, relying on diplomacy, gifts, and ceremonies to maintain friendship. The British, however, saw themselves as conquerors rather than allies. Amherst in particular viewed the distribution of gifts as bribery and sought to end such practices. To the Native nations, this was not only an insult but also a threat, for these exchanges were a vital part of diplomacy and respect.

Growing Unease

As British forts spread through the interior and trade became restricted, the unease deepened. Tribes who had once fought for France questioned whether Britain intended to honor their lands or drive them away. Rumors spread that the British planned to take more territory, to limit gunpowder and goods, and to rule with little regard for Native customs. The people saw that their voice in the balance of power had been diminished.

Seeds of Rebellion

I worked tirelessly to ease these tensions, reminding Native leaders that Britain desired peace, but I could not silence the anger rising across the frontier. Without the French to balance British ambition, distrust grew. Chiefs and warriors began to speak of resistance, of standing together to drive the British out before they tightened their grip further. These murmurings were the first signs of the great unrest that would soon sweep the interior.

The Shadow of Pontiac

Not long after the fall of New France, a new leader, Pontiac of the Ottawa, would emerge to unite many tribes in defiance of British rule. The rebellion he led was born from this period of unease, from the sense that Britain did not see Native nations as allies but as obstacles. The withdrawal of France had not brought peace to the land; it had sown the seeds of a greater conflict yet to come.

France’s Loss in Global Context – Told by François de Lévis

The surrender of Montreal in 1760 was not an isolated event, but part of a far greater struggle—the Seven Years’ War. This conflict raged not only in North America but across Europe, the Caribbean, Africa, and Asia. It was the first truly global war, and the fate of empires was decided on battlefields and seas far from Canada’s forests and rivers.

Montreal’s Fall in the Chain of Defeat

By the time Montreal fell, France was already suffering setbacks around the world. Our navy had been struck down at Quiberon Bay in 1759, leaving us unable to send reinforcements to our colonies. In India, British forces under Clive had seized French posts, weakening our influence in Asia. In the Caribbean, islands vital to our sugar trade were under siege. The fall of Montreal was thus another link in a chain of defeats that marked the decline of French global power.

The British Ascendancy

Britain’s strength lay in its navy, which allowed it to project power across oceans. With this advantage, Britain captured not only Canada but also islands in the West Indies and territories in Africa and India. Montreal’s surrender confirmed that Britain now stood as the dominant power in North America, a position that would shape the future of the continent for generations to come.

France’s Strategy Shattered

France had hoped to use Canada and her other colonies as bargaining chips in negotiations, but with Montreal lost, our presence in North America was broken. No longer could we threaten Britain’s colonies along the Atlantic coast. The grand vision of a French empire stretching from the St. Lawrence to Louisiana was gone, replaced by scattered posts with little chance of survival.

The Global Consequence

The fall of Montreal tied the fate of Canada to the outcome of the Seven Years’ War. When the war ended in 1763 with the Treaty of Paris, France was forced to cede nearly all of its territories in North America. Montreal’s loss was the moment when this future became inevitable, a symbol of how the global tide had turned against us. In truth, the city’s fall was not only the end of New France but also a sign that France’s reach across the world was being curtailed, while Britain’s star was rising.

The Treaty of Paris (1763) – Told by Jeffery Amherst

By 1760, with the surrender of Montreal, the fighting in Canada had ended. Yet the Seven Years’ War still raged across the globe, and peace would not come swiftly. For nearly three more years, Britain and France struggled in Europe, the Caribbean, Africa, and India. Only when both nations had grown weary of the burden did the diplomats finally gather to put the war to rest.

The Terms of Settlement

In February of 1763, the Treaty of Paris was signed. It was the document that reshaped the world. For Britain, it marked the formal possession of Canada. France ceded all its territories east of the Mississippi River, save for the small islands of Saint Pierre and Miquelon, which were retained for the sake of fishing rights. Louisiana was secretly given to Spain, and with this, France surrendered her grand design of empire in North America.

The End of New France

The treaty confirmed what had already been decided on the battlefield: New France was no more. The fleur-de-lis would fly no longer over Quebec, Montreal, or the St. Lawrence Valley. The settlers of Canada, who had once lived as subjects of the French crown, now became subjects of the British king. It was the formal end of more than a century of French dominion on the continent.

Britain’s New Empire

For Britain, the treaty brought vast new lands but also new responsibilities. We now held Canada, Florida, islands in the Caribbean, and trading posts in India and Africa. The empire had expanded beyond anything imagined a generation earlier, yet with it came the challenge of governing diverse peoples and defending far-flung territories. The conquest of Canada, which I had overseen, was only one part of a much larger inheritance.

My Reflection

The Treaty of Paris crowned our efforts with success, securing the prize of Canada for Britain and removing France as a rival in North America. Yet I knew that peace carried its own burdens. The colonists in America would soon grow restless under the weight of imperial rule, and the Native nations, dissatisfied with Britain’s policies, would resist. Still, the treaty marked the triumph of our arms and the ascendancy of Britain as the foremost power of the age.