In front of the American commander rolled the St. Lawrence River, and across the waterway lay his objective–Québec. Behind the commander struggled the remnants of a small, ragtag army that had followed him through the early winter cold of northern Maine. It was November 3, 1775, and their 350-mile hike from the mouth of the Kennebec River had ended, but their ordeal was far from over.

Colonel Benedict Arnold was both exhilarated and apprehensive. Now one question was on his mind: How would he capture the Canadian city on the opposite shore? The question would occupy his thoughts for the next seven weeks.

The events that brought Arnold to the St. Lawrence had begun to unfold some 200 miles southwest of Québec at Fort Ticonderoga in late August 1775. By that time, the rebelling American colonists had surrounded Boston–a situation unchanged by the successful but costly British assault on Breed’s Hill on June 17–and the Continental Congress was looking for the knockout blow that would make their revolt against the British crown a brief one. The only major British forces around North America were in Florida and the Caribbean islands, as well as 700 more troops in Canada. Most American leaders, political and military, believed the Canadians, who had only been under British rule since 1760, would readily flock to the cause of independence. They were sadly mistaken. Most Canadians could not see much correlation between their situation and that of the 13 colonies to the south. The Americans would learn this the bloody, hard way.

Full of optimism for a Canadian venture, the Continental Congress sent a message to the commander of Fort Ticonderoga, Maj. Gen. Philip Schuyler, on June 27, authorizing him to marshal an invasion force and advance into those areas of Canada that he judged ‘practicable’ to seize. Schuyler was suffering from rheumatic gout at the time, and the troops he needed for the operation were just beginning to trickle into the fort. As more soldiers arrived, Schuyler passed Congress’ message on to his second-in-command, the energetic Brig. Gen. Richard Montgomery, on August 7. In addition, Montgomery had received word that the British were building a fleet in the area of St. Johns, Quebec, about 20 miles southeast of Montréal on the Richelieu River. At the end of August, two months after the message had arrived from Congress, the 38-year-old Montgomery tired of his ailing commander’s recalcitrance. He scrabbled together 1,200 men, a hodgepodge collection of ships, canoes and rowboats, and on August 27 he headed upriver to fight an army from which he, born an Irishman, had resigned only three years before.

Schuyler, who had somewhat regained his mobility, was conferring with Iroquois chiefs at Albany when he learned of Montgomery’s march on St. Johns. Traveling up Lake Champlain in a speedy whaleboat, he caught up with the invasion force on September 4 and reassumed command. On the following day, the Americans established a base of operations on Ile aux Noix, 10 miles south of St. Johns. Schuyler had received false reports that indicated the strength of British fort and garrison was greater than it actually was (in fact, the garrison numbered only 700 men, though most were British Army Regulars).On that same day, September 5, he launched an attack, but the Americans were repulsed by a screening party of Indian skirmishers who had deployed outside St. Johns’ fort by the British garrison commander, Major Charles Preston. Schuyler retreated several miles back down the Sorel River but sent 500 New York militiamen to stage another assault on September 10, only to learn that they had broken into a panicked run upon making contact with another advance force of fellow Americans. Schuyler’s poor health caught up with him once more, and on the 16th he returned to Ticonderoga, leaving Montgomery in charge again. The brigadier brought his small army back to St. Johns.

Although the British position was not nearly as strong as Schuyler had believed, it was enough to stop Montgomery. The latter settled down to a siege he believed would take five days. It ended up lasting 55.

Eventually, Schuyler was able to send reinforcements and some cannons to Montgomery, who put them all to good use. Major Preston was down to three days’ rations inside St. Johns and received word that no relief force was on the way. On November 2, he surrendered. Fort Chambly, just a short distance north, fell quickly to an advance party of Americans. One of those taken prisoner there by the colonists was Lieutenant John André, who, after later being paroled, would gain notoriety in September 1780, when he was caught by rebel militia while carrying documents in which then Maj. Gen. Benedict Arnold offered to hand over his command, West Point, to the British. With his lines of supply and communication secure, Montgomery raced on toward Montréal, which fell to him with astonishing ease on November 13.

While Montgomery had been floundering around St. Johns, General George Washington was impatiently looking for a way to help him. Earlier in the spring, a plan to take Québec had been presented to him. He now dusted it off and gave it to Colonel Arnold, who threw his considerable talents to the task.

After studying maps of the region, Arnold thought he could easily get 1,000 men up the Kennebec River, portage across an area known as ‘The Great Carrying Place’ to the Chaudire River, and then head to Québec. On the basis of maps drawn in 1759 by explorer John Montresor, it looked like a three-week journey. Arnold gathered up some 1,050 volunteers, including Aaron Burr and Daniel Morgan, as well as two ‘Mollies’ (camp followers) of Captain William Hendricks’ Rifle Company from Cumberland, Penn.: teenaged Jemima Warner, who accompanied her husband James, and Suzannah Grier, wife of Sergeant Joseph Grier. Arnold also ordered the construction of 200 bateaux for transports. They would be awaiting him at the mouth of the Kennebec in what is now the state of Maine.

Everything was proceeding smoothly for Arnold so far. The plan was to link up with Montgomery, thus doubling the force. That would give Arnold the 2,000 men he thought necessary to take Québec.

The expedition left Cambridge, Mass., on September 13. Following a short march to Newburyport, they boarded ships that brought them to Gardiner (now in Maine) to take delivery of the bateaux. The boats proved to be the first of many problems that would plague the expedition.

A bateau is something of a cross between a canoe and a rowboat, but longer and heavier. To his great distress, Arnold learned that these vessels were more difficult to maneuver than he had been led to believe. Worse yet, the carpenters he had sent ahead to build his fleet had used green wood. The result was a barely seaworthy craft that weighed some 400 pounds. With no alternative, Arnold was forced to make the best of it and issued his marching orders.

He set up three roughly equal divisions of troops, each marching a day apart. Almost immediately, Arnold’s schedule was thrown off. The day after leaving Gardiner, Captain Simeon Thayer wrote in his diary, ‘The river here is very rapid and difficult.’ The next day’s entry reads in part: ‘The river here is both rapid and rocky. Proceeded to the foot of the falls. Here is the first carrying place we came to.’ The entry for the third day, September 28, is even more enlightening: ‘Proceeded about three miles through rapid water. Our men are obligated to wade more than half their time. It begins to be cold and uncomfortable.’

Thus, Arnold had several problems with which to contend. The maps he had studied during his planning did not accurately describe the rapids and waterfalls that Arnold’s men would be forced to portage around. Complicating matters was the deteriorating northern New England weather. Food began to spoil, and potable water was used up. The men drank murky rainwater, causing dysentery and nausea. Jemima Warner and Suzannah Grier caught trout in the Kennebec River, but the fish did not provide fat, which the troops desperately needed as the weather got colder. By the time the expedition reached the Dead River, winter storms and floods made even fishing impossible. Smallpox became a constant, dreaded companion. A number of the men died long before any shots were fired, including Private James Warner. After standing by her ailing husband to the end, Jemima Warner buried his body under some leaves, took up his rifle and powder, and ran 20 miles through a snowstorm to catch up with her company and take his place in the ranks.

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