The fighting was stubborn and furious, and Wolfe was in the thickest of the fray. While he was leading a charge, a bullet tore through his wrist. Quickly wrapping his handkerchief about the wound, he dashed forward until he was for the third time struck by a bullet, this time receiving a mortal wound. Four of his men bore him in their arms to the rear, and wished to send for a surgeon; but Wolfe said, "There's no need; it's all over with me." A little later, hearing someone cry "They run; see how they run!" he asked, "Who runs?" "The enemy, sir. Egad, they give way everywhere!" Then said Wolfe in his last moments, "Now, God be praised. I will die in peace."