WOLFE (Major-general James), was the son of lieutenant-general Edward Wolfe, and born at Westerham, in Kent, about the year 1726. He seemed formed for military greatness: his memory was retentive, his judgment deep, his comprehension quick and clear, his courage was uniform; and he had a strength, steadiness, and activity of mind, which no difficulties could obstruct, nor dangers deter. He betook himself, when very young, to the profession of arms, and was at the battle of Laffeldt when scarce 20 years of age; on which occasion he behaved so as to obtain the highest encomiums from the great officer at the head of the army. During the whole war he was present in every engagement, and never passed undistinguished; and even after the peace cultivated the arts of war, and introduced the utmost regularity and exactness of discipline into his corps. So that as long as the six British battalions on the plains of Minden are recorded in the annals of Europe, so long will Kingley's, of which he was lieutenant-colonel, stand among the foremost of that day. He was afterwards at the attack of Rochefort, and at the taking of Louisburg, from whence he was scarcely returned when he was appointed to command the important expedition against Quebec; where, in spite of many unforeseen difficulties from the nature of the situation, the great superiority of numbers, the strength of the place, and his own bad state of health, he at last formed and executed that great, that necessary plan, which drew out the French
to their defeat, and must give him the title of Conqueror of Canada. But when the victory was almost obtained, he received a ball through his wrist; which immediately wrapping up with his handkerchief, he went on with his usual alacrity, animating his troops by precept and example: but in a few minutes after, a second ball through his body obliged him to be carried off to a small distance in the rear; where, roused from fainting by the cry of "They run! They run!" He eagerly asked who ran? and being told the French, and that they were defeated, he said, "Then I thank God, I die contented;" and almost instantly expired. Thus died the brave general Wolfe in 1759. His body was brought to Portsmouth, and from thence carried with great funeral pomp to Greenwich, where it was deposited in the burying-place belonging to the family.