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Picturesque Quebec : a sequel to Quebec past and present

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Title: Picturesque Quebec : a sequel to Quebec past and present

Author: Sir J. M. Le Moine


        
Release date: December 1, 2004 [eBook #7033]
                Most recently updated: December 30, 2020

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PICTURESQUE QUEBEC : A SEQUEL TO QUEBEC PAST AND PRESENT ***




This eBook was produced by Anne Soulard, Juliet Sutherland and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from
images generously made available by the Canadian Institute for
Historical Microreproductions.





PICTURESQUE QUEBEC

BY

J. M. LEMOINE




TO THE CITIZENS OF QUEBEC

THIS VOLUME IS

Respectfully Inscribed

BY THE AUTHOR.




PREFACE


This volume, purporting to be a sequel to "QUEBEC PAST AND PRESENT,"
published in 1876, is intended to complete the history of the city. New
and interesting details will be found in these pages, about the locality,
where Samuel de Champlain located his settlement in 1608, together with a
rapid glance at incidents, sights, objects, edifices, city gates and other
improvements, both ancient and modern, which an antiquarian's ramble round
the streets, squares, promenades, monuments, public and private edifices,
&c., may disclose. It will, it is hoped, be found a copious repository of
historical, topographical, legendary, industrial and antiquarian lore--
garnered not without some trouble from authorities difficult of access to
the general reader. May it prove not merely a faithful mirror of the past,
but also an authentic record of the present!

THE SKETCH OF THE ENVIRONS OF QUEBEC will take the tourist or student of
history beyond the ramparts of Old Stadacona, to the memorable area--the
Plains of Abraham--where, one century back and more, took place the hard-
fought duel which caused the collapse of French power in the New World,
established British rule on our shores, and hastened the birth of the
great Commonwealth founded by George Washington, by removing from the
British Provinces, south of us, the counterpoise of French dominion. More
than once French Canada had threatened the New England Settlements; more
than once it had acted like a barrier to the expansion and consolidation
of the conquering Anglo-Saxon race.

THE ENVIRONS OF QUEBEC are, indeed, classic soil, trodden by the footsteps
of many of the most remarkable men in American History: Cartier,
Champlain, Phipps, d'Iberville, Laval, Frontenac, La Galissonnère, Wolfe,
Montcalm, Levis, Amherst, Murray, Guy Carleton, Nelson, Cook,
Bougainville, Jervis, Montgomery, Arnold, DeSalaberry, Brock and others.
Here, in early times, on the shore of the majestic St. Lawrence, stood the
wigwam and canoe of the marauding savage; here, was heard the clang of
French sabre and Scotch claymore in deadly encounter--the din of battle
on the tented field; here,--but no further--had surged the wave of
American invasion; here, have bivouaced on more than one gory battle-
field, the gay warrior from the banks of the Seine, the staunch musketeers
of Old England, the unerring riflemen of New York, Massachusetts and Rhode
Island. Another spot calculated to interest us is the vast expanse from
the Plains to Cap Rouge, round by Ste. Foye to the city, for which I
intend to use its former more general name, Sillery: the ground is not new
for us, as its annals and country seats furnished, in 1865, materials for
sketches, published that year under the title of _Maple Leaves_. These
sketches having long since disappeared from book-stores, at the request of
several enlightened patrons, I re-publish from them some selections, with
anecdotes and annotations. Several other sites round Quebec--Beauport,
Charlesbourg, the Falls of Montmorency and of the Chaudière, Château
Bigot, Lorette and its Hurons--will, of necessity, find a resting place in
this repertory of Quebec history, which closes a labour of love, the
series of works on Canada, commenced by me in 1861.

In order to enhance the usefulness of this work, extensive and varied
historical matter has been included in the appendix for reference.

To my many friends, whose notes and advice have been so freely placed at
my disposal, I return my grateful thanks.

J. M. LEMOINE.
SPENCER GRANGE, December, 1881.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER I.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF QUEBEC

Quebec as seen by Tourists--Descriptions--by Francis Parkman--M. Sand--
Eliot Warburton--Thoreau--Mrs. Moodie--Charles Dickens--Marmier--Sir
Charles Dilke--Henry Ward Beecher--Professor Silliman--Charles Lever--
Capt. Butler--Alfred Hawkins--Hon. P. J. O. Chauveau.


CHAPTER II.

FOUNDATION OF QUEBEC.

Samuel de Champlain--_L'Abitation_--the Dwelling of Champlain--Chief
Donaconna--Jacques Cartier's Landing--Interview between Cartier and
Donaconna.


CHAPTER III.

THE ANCIENT CAPITAL.

Streets and By-ways of the Old City--Names of Famous Men preserved by
Street Names--Dangerous Streets.

THE UPPER TOWN.

Louis Hébert, the First Resident--The First Street--The First Horse--
Marquis de Tracy--St. Louis Street--The Quebec Gazette--William Brown--
Samuel Neilson--Dr. Wilkie--Lawyers--Madame Péan--Montgomery's Assault--
Death of Montcalm--SOCIETY IN EARLY ENGLISH TIMES--Theatre--Early Society
Poets--Literature--United Empire Loyalists,--ST. LOUIS HOTEL--THE
FRÉCHETTE DINNER--Mr. Fréchette's Speech--Mr. Lamier's Speech--Mr.
Stewart's Speech--Mr. LeMay's, Speech---Mr. LeMoine's Speech---FORT ST.
LOUIS--CHÂTEAU ST. LOUIS--HALDIMAND CASTLE--The Council--Dress of the
Councillors--A Braggart Mohawk Hanged--The New Château--Fealty and
Homage--Re-building by Frontenac--Quebec Agricultural Society--The Loyal
League--An Antique Stone--Lord Edward Fitzgerald--The Duke of Richmond--
Sir Peregrine Maitland--John Galt--Lord Dorchester--Isaac Weld--Dufferin
Terrace--Laying of Corner Stone--Rev. Dr. Sparks--St. Andrew's Church--
The Lymburners--Hugh McQuarters James Thompson--The Rosses--The Georges--
Parloir Street--Jupiter Street--St. George Street--LAVAL UNIVERSITY--
Palace Street--Statue of General Wolfe--St. Famille Street--St. Stanislas
Street--Trinity Chapel--Theatre Royal--THE LITERARY AND HISTORICAL
SOCIETY--Mr. LeMoine's Lecture on Arnold's Assault--The Centenary Fete--
The Jesuit's Church--The Jesuit's Barracks--The Récollet Convent--The
Palace--Couillard Street--The Union Hotel--The Prisoners of 1812--Bell's
Cavalry--Rue du Trésor--Royal Notaries--St. John Street--Le Club des
Anciens--La Crucifix Outragé--Olden Times in the Ancient Capital--Durham
Terrace.

THE LOWER TOWN.

Le Chien d'Or--The Elevator--Mountain Hill--Landing of the Marquis de
Tracy--Landing of the Earl of Durham--The Inconstants--St. Peter Street--
Jean Taché--The Chronicle Building--The Neptune Inn--Press Gangs at
Quebec--Notre Dame Des Victoires--Notre Dame Street--Dalhousie Street---
Public Whipping--Sous-le-Fort Street--The Cul-de-Sac--The King's Wharf--A
Fighting Stevedore--M. Marmier--Sault-au-Matelot Street--Dog Lane--St.
Paul Street--Pointe à Carcy--The Duke of Saxe Weimar.

ST. ROCH'S SUBURBS.

La Friponne--The Intendant Bigot--The Intendant's Palace--La Vacherie--
Côte à Coton--St. Valier Street--The Blue House--Horatio Nelson in Quebec
--Dorchester Bridge--Crown Street--The Harbour Docks--The Graving Dock at
Levis.

THE GATES OF QUEBEC.

The New Gates--The Kent Gate--The Citadel Gates--Theller and Dodge's
Escape from the Citadel--The Men of '37.


CHAPTER IV.

SUBURBS OF QUEBEC.

St. Louis Road--Parliament Buildings--Bleak House--Martello Towers--
Buttes-à-Nepveu--Wolfe's Landing Place--Ste. Foye Road--Association Hall.


CHAPTER V.

MODERN QUEBEC.

City Government--Boundaries of the Wards--War Department Property.


PART II.


THE ENVIRONS OF QUEBEC.
  SILLERY
  OUR COUNTRY SEATS
  THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM
  THE BATTLE-FIELD
  BATTLE-FIELD PARK
  THE DUKE OF KENT'S LODGE--MONTMORENCI
  L'ASYLE CHAMPÊTRE
  MARCHMONT--Anecdote of Wolfe's Army
  WOLFESFIELD--Carlyle's Account of the Capture of Quebec
  ELM GROVE
  THORNHILL
  SPENCER WOOD--The Perceval Family--A Fête Champêtre in 1809
  SPENCER GRANGE--Audubon at Quebec
  BAGATELLE COTTAGE
  WOODFIELD
  SOUS LES BOIS
  SILLERY HOUSE
  ST. MICHAEL'S CHURCH--SILLERY
  MOUNT HERMON
  BARDFIELD--The Mountain Family
  BENMORE--The Sparrows and Quails
  CLERMONT
  THE WILD FLOWERS OF SILLERY
  BEAUVOIR
  MONTAGUE COTTAGE--The History of Emily Montague
  KIRK ELLA
  CATARACOUI
  ROSEWOOD
  RAVENSWOOD
  THE WOODS OF SILLERY
  LONGWOOD
  MEADOWBANKS--A Raid in 1775
  THE HIGHLANDS
  WINTER FOX HUNTING IN CANADA
  CAP ROUGE COTTAGE
  BEAUSÉJOUR
  BELMONT--Irish Education in the Olden Time
  HOLLAND FARM
  THE HOLLAND TREE--A Scandal of the last Century
  HAMWOOD
  BIJOU--Anecdote of Wolfe's Army
  MORTON LODGE
  WESTFIELD
  COUCY-LE-CASTEL
  RINGFIELD--Journal of Chevalier Johnstone
  CASTOR VILLE
  THE JOYS OF WINTER
  THE MANOR HOUSE--BEAUPORT--The Inscription
  MOUNT LILAC--Beauport
  A VISIT TO INDIAN LORETTE
  TAHOURENCHE AND THE HURONS OF LORETTE
  INDIAN CUSTOMS
  CHÂTEAU BIGOT--The Algonquin Maid--Marmette's Romance
  THE FALLS OF THE CHAUDIÈRE


APPENDIX.
  Jacques Cartier's Officers and Crew
  Jacques Quartier, the Pilot
  Discovery of the Remains of Jacques Cartier's Vessel
  The Bronze Cannon
  The French who remained after the Capitulation of 1629
  The Arms of the Dominion
  Militia Uniforms
  Horses
  Ship-building at Quebec under French Domination
  The Conquest of New York
  The French Refugees of Oxford, Mass.
  The Venerable Mother of the Incarnation
  Variation of the Needle at Quebec
  Our City Bells
  General Wolfe's Statue
  Vente d'une Négresse à Quebec
  The Ice-Shove--April 1874
  The Pistols and Sash of General Wolfe
  The Post Office
  Monument to the Victims of 1837-8
  Fines for Duelling
  Memorabilia
  Executions at Quebec Gaol
  Quebec Golf Club
  Quebec Snowshoe Club
  French Governors of Canada
  English Governors


MAPS.
  Plan of Quebec in 1759
  Map to Illustrate the Siege of Quebec in 1759
  Map to Illustrate Operations of Generals de Levis and Murray, 1759-60
  Plan of the Links--Quebec Golf Club

The description of ASYLE CHAMPÊTRE was written by Dr. P. Bender, the
biographer of Joseph Perrault, the founder of ASYLE CHAMPÊTRE.




PICTURESQUE QUEBEC


CHAPTER 1.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF QUEBEC.


Quebec, founded by Samuel de Champlain, in 1608, has certainly much to
recommend her, by her monuments, her historical memories and her scenery,
to the traveller--the scholar--the historian. The wintering of the
venturesome Jacques Cartier on the banks of the St. Charles in 1535-6, by
its remoteness, is an incident of interest, not only to Canadians, but
also to every denizen of America. It takes one back to an era nearly
coeval with the discovery of the continent by Columbus--much anterior to
the foundation of Jamestown, in 1607--anterior to that of St Augustine, in
Florida. Quebec, has, then, a right to call herself an old, a very old,
city of the west.

The colonization of Canada, or, as it was formerly called, New France, was
undertaken by French merchants engaged in the fur trade, close on whose
steps followed a host of devoted missionaries who found, in the forests of
this new and attractive country, ample scope for the exercise of their
religious enthusiasm. It was at Quebec that these Christian heroes landed,
from hence they started for the forest primeval, the bearers of the olive
branch of Christianity, an unfailing token of civilization.

A fatal mistake committed at the outset by the French commanders, in
taking sides in the Indian wars, more than once brought the incipient
colony to the verge of ruin. During these periods, scores of devoted
missionaries fell under the scalping knife or suffered incredible tortures
amongst the merciless savages whom they had come to reclaim. Indian
massacres became so frequent, so appalling, that on several occasions the
French thought seriously of giving up the colony forever. The rivalry
between France and England, added to the hardships and dangers of the few
hardy colonists established at Quebec. Its environs, the shores of its
noble river, more than once became the battle-field of European armies.
These are periods of strife, happily gone by, we hope, forever.

In his "_Pioneers of France in the New World_," the gifted Francis
Parkman mournfully reviews the vanished glories of old France in her
former vast dominions in America:--

    "The French dominion is a memory of the past; and when we evoke its
    departed shades, they rise upon us from their graves in strange
    romantic guise. Again their ghostly camp-fires seem to burn, and the
    fitful light is cast around on lord and vassal and black robed priest,
    mingled with wild forms of savage warriors, knit in close fellowship
    on the same stern errand. A boundless vision grows upon us: an untamed
    continent, vast wastes of forest verdure, mountains silent in primeval
    sleep; river, lake, and glimmering pool; wilderness oceans mingling
    with the sky. Such was the domain which France conquered for
    civilization. Plumed helmets gleamed in the shade of its forests;
    priestly vestments in its dens and fastnesses of ancient barbarism.
    Men steeped in antique learning, pale with the close breath of the
    cloister, here spent the noon and evening of their lives, ruled savage
    hordes with a mild, parental sway, and stood serene before the direst
    shapes of death. Men of a courtly nurture, heirs to the polish of a
    far-reaching ancestry, here, with their dauntless hardihood, put to
    shame the boldest sons of toil."

Of all this mighty empire of the past, Quebec was the undisputed capital,
the fortress, the keystone.

It would be a curious study to place in juxtaposition the impressions
produced on Tourists by the view of Quebec and its environs--from the era
of Jacques Cartier, the discoverer of Canada, down to that of the Earl of
Dufferin, one of its truest friends.

Champlain, La Potherie, La Houtan, Le Beau, Du Creux (Creuxius), Peter
Kalm, Knox, Silliman, Ampère, Mrs. Moodie, Dickens, Lever, Anthony
Trollope, Sala, Thoreau, Warburton, Marmier, Capt. Butler, Sir Charles
Dilke, Henry Ward Beecher, have all left their impressions of the rocky
citadel: let us gaze on a few of their vivid pictures.

    "The scenic beauty of Quebec has been the theme of general eulogy. The
    majestic appearance of Cape Diamond and the fortifications, the
    cupolas and minarets, like those of an eastern city, blazing and
    sparkling in the sun, the loveliness of the panorama, the noble basin,
    like a sheet of purest silver, in which might ride with safety a
    hundred sail of the line, the graceful meandering of the river St.
    Charles, the numerous village spires on either side of the St.
    Lawrence, the fertile fields dotted with innumerable cottages, the
    abode of a rich and moral peasantry,--the distant falls of
    Montmorency,--the park like scenery of Point Levis,--the beauteous
    Isle of Orleans,--and more distant still, the frowning Cape Tourmente,
    and the lofty range of purple mountains of the most picturesque form,
    which, without exaggeration, is scarcely to be surpassed in any part
    of the world." (Hawkins' _Picture of Quebec_.)

    "Quebec recalls Angoulême to my mind: in the upper city, stairways,
    narrow streets, ancient houses on the verge of the cliff; in the lower
    city, the new fortunes, commerce, workmen;--in both, many shops and
    much activity." (M. Sand.)

    "Take mountain and plain, sinuous river, and broad, tranquil waters,
    stately ship and tiny boat, gentle hill and shady valley, bold
    headland and rich, fruitful fields, frowning battlement and cheerful
    villa, glittering dome and rural spire, flowery garden and sombre
    forest,--group them all into the choicest picture of ideal beauty your
    fancy can create; arch it over with a cloudless sky, light it up with
    a radiant sun, and lest the sheen should be too dazzling, hang a veil
    of lighted haze over all, to soften the lines and perfect the repose,
    --you will then have seen Quebec on this September morning." (Eliot
    Warburton.)

    "I rubbed my eyes to be sure I was in the nineteenth century, and not
    entering one of those portals which sometimes adorn the frontispiece
    of old black-letter volumes. I though it would be a good place to read
    Froissart's Chronicles. It was such a reminiscence of the Middle Ages
    as Scott's Novels.

    "Too much has not been said about the scenery of Quebec. The
    fortifications of Cape Diamond are omnipresent. You travel ten,
    twenty, thirty miles up or down the river's banks, you ramble fifteen
    miles among the hills on either side, and then, when you have long
    since forgotten them, perchance slept on them by the way, at a turn of
    the road or of your body, there they are still with their geometry
    against the sky....

    "No wonder if Jacques Cartier's pilot exclaimed in Norman-French
    _Que bec!_ ("What a peak!") when he saw this cape, as some suppose.
    Every modern traveller uses a similar expression....

    "The view from Cape Diamond has been compared by European travellers
    with the most remarkable views of a similar kind in Europe, such as
    those from Edinburgh Castle, Gibraltar, Cintra, and others, and
    preferred by many. A main peculiarity in this, compared with other
    views which I have beheld, is that it is from the ramparts of a
    fortified city, and not from a solitary and majestic river cape alone
    that this view is obtained.... I still remember the harbour far
    beneath me, sparkling like silver in the sun,--the answering headlands
    of Point Levis on the south-east,--the frowning Cape Tourmente
    abruptly bounding the seaward view in the north-east,--the villages of
    Lorette and Charlesbourg on the north,--and farther west, the distant
    Val Cartier, sparkling with white cottages, hardly removed by distance
    through the clear air,--not to mention a few blue mountains along the
    horizon in that direction. You look out from the ramparts of the
    citadel beyond the frontiers of civilization. Yonder small group of
    hills, according to the guide-book, forms the portals of the wilds
    which are trodden only by the feet of the Indian hunters as far as
    Hudson's Bay." (Thoreau).

Mrs. Moodie (Susannah Strickland), in her sketches of Canadian life,
graphically delineates her trip from Grosse Isle to Quebec, and the
appearance of the city itself from the river:--

    "On the 22nd of September (1832), the anchor was weighed, and we bade
    a long farewell to Grosse Isle. As our vessel struck into mid-channel,
    I cast a last lingering look at the beautiful shore we were leaving.
    Cradled in the arms of the St. Lawrence, and basking in the bright
    rays of the morning sun, the island and its sister group looked like a
    second Eden just emerged from the waters of chaos. The day was warm,
    and the cloudless heavens of that peculiar azure tint which gives to
    the Canadian skies and waters a brilliancy unknown in more northern
    latitudes. The air was pure and elastic; the sun shone out with
    uncommon splendour, lighting up the changing woods with a rich mellow
    colouring, composed of a thousand brilliant and vivid dyes. The mighty
    river rolled flashing and sparkling onward, impelled by a strong
    breeze that tipped its short rolling surges with a crest of snowy
    foam.

    "Never shall I forget that short voyage from Grosse Isle to Quebec.
    What wonderful combinations of beauty and grandeur and power, at every
    winding of that noble river!

    "Every perception of my mind became absorbed into the one sense of
    seeing, when, upon rounding Point Levis, we cast anchor before Quebec.
    What a scene! Can the world produce another? Edinburgh had been the
    _beau ideal_ to me of all that was beautiful in nature--a vision
    of the Northern Highlands had haunted my dreams across the Atlantic;
    but all these past recollections faded before the _present_ of
    Quebec. Nature has ransacked all our grandest elements to form this
    astonishing panorama. There, frowns the cloud-capped mountain, and
    below, the cataract foams and thunders; woods and rock and river
    combine to lend their aid in making the picture perfect, and worthy of
    its Divine originator. The precipitous bank upon which the city lies
    piled, reflected in the still, deep waters at its base, greatly
    enhances the romantic beauty of the situation. The mellow and serene
    glow of the autumn day harmonized so perfectly with the solemn
    grandeur of the scene around me, and sank so silently and deeply into
    my soul, that my spirit fell prostrate before it, and I melted
    involuntarily into tears."

Such the poetic visions which were awakened in the poetic mind of the
brilliant author of "_Roughing it, in the Bush._" Charles Dickens also had
his say in this matter, on his visit to Quebec, in May 1842, where he was
the guest of the President of the _Literary and Historical Society_, Dr.
John Charlton Fisher:--

    "The impression made upon the visitor by this Gibraltar of America,
    its giddy heights, its citadel suspended, as it were, in the air; its
    picturesque steep streets and frowning gateways; and the splendid
    views which burst upon the eye at every turn, is at once unique and
    lasting. It is a place not to be forgotten or mixed up in the mind
    with other places, or altered for a moment in the crowd of scenes a
    traveller can recall. Apart from the realities of this most
    picturesque city, there are associations clustering about it which
    would make a desert rich in interest. The dangerous precipice along
    whose rocky front Wolfe and his brave companions climbed to glory; the
    Plains of Abraham, where he received his mortal wound; the fortress so
    chivalrously defended by Montcalm; and his soldier's grave, dug for
    him when yet alive, by the bursting of a shell, are not the least
    among them, or among the gallant incidents of history. That is a noble
    monument too, and worthy of two great nations, which perpetuates the
    memory of both brave Generals, and on which their names are jointly
    written.

    "The city is rich in public institutions and in Catholic churches and
    charities, but it is mainly in the prospect from the site of the Old
    Government House and from the Citadel, that its surpassing beauty
    lies. The exquisite expanse of country, rich in field and forest,
    mountain-heights and water, which lies stretched out before the view,
    with miles of Canadian villages, glancing in long white streaks, like
    veins along the landscape; the motley crowd of gables, roofs and
    chimney tops in the old hilly town immediately at hand; the beautiful
    St. Lawrence sparkling and flashing in the sunlight; and the tiny
    ships below the rock from which you gaze, whose distant rigging looks
    like spiders' webs against the light, while casks and barrels on their
    decks dwindle into toys, and busy mariners become so many puppets; all
    this framed by a sunken window [1] in the fortress and looked at from
    the shadowed room within, forms one of the brightest and most
    enchanting pictures that the eye can rest upon." (Dickens' _American
    Notes_.)

A distinguished French _littérateur_, fresh from the sunny banks of
the Seine, thus discourses anent the Ancient capital; we translate:--

    "Few cities," says M. Marmier, [2] "offer as many striking contrasts
    as Quebec, a fortress and a commercial city together, built upon the
    summit of a rock as the nest of an eagle, while her vessels are
    everywhere wrinkling the face of the ocean; an American city inhabited
    by French colonists, governed by England, and garrisoned with Scotch
    regiments; [3] a city of the middle ages by most of its ancient
    institutions, while it is submitted to all the combinations of modern
    constitutional government; an European city by its civilization and
    its habits of refinement, and still close by, the remnants of the
    Indian tribes and the barren mountains of the north, a city of about
    the same latitude as Paris, while successively combining the torrid
    climate of southern regions with the severities of an hyperborean
    winter; a city at the same time Catholic and Protestant, where the
    labours of our (French) missions are still uninterrupted alongside of
    the undertakings of the Bible Society, and where the Jesuits driven
    out of our own country (France) find a place of refuge under the aegis
    of British Puritanism!"

An American tourist thus epitomises the sights:--

    "As the seat of French power in America until 1759, the great fortress
    of English rule in British America, and the key of the St. Lawrence,
    Quebec must possess interest of no ordinary character for well-
    informed tourists. To the traveller, there are innumerable points and
    items vastly interesting and curious--the citadel and forts of Cape
    Diamond, with their impregnable ramparts that rival Gibraltar in
    strength and endurance against siege, the old walls of the city and
    their gates each of which has its legend of war and bloody assault and
    repulse, the plains of Abraham, every foot of which is commemorated
    with blood and battle; Wolfe's monument, where the gallant and brave
    soldier died with a shout of victory on his lips, the Martello towers,
    with their subterranean communications with the citadel; the antique
    churches, paintings, and all their paraphernalia, treasures, and
    curiosities that are religiously preserved therein, the falls of
    Montmorency, the natural steps. Montcalm's house, and a thousand other
    relics of the mysterious past that has hallowed these with all the
    mystic interest that attaches to antiquity, great deeds, and beautiful
    memories. To see all these, a tourist requires at least two days'
    time, and surely no one who pretends to be a traveller, in these days
    of rapid transit will fail to visit Quebec, the best city, the most
    hospitable place, and richer in its wealth of rare sights and grand
    old memorials. French peculiarities and English oddities, than any
    other city on this broad continent."

    "Leaving the citadel, we are once more in the European Middle ages.
    Gates and posterns, cranky steps that lead up to lofty, gabled houses,
    with sharp French roofs of burnished tin, like those of Liège;
    processions of the Host; altars decked with flowers; statues of the
    Virgin; sabots, blouses, and the scarlet of the British lines-man,--
    all these are seen in narrow streets and markets that are graced with
    many a Cotentin lace cap, and all within forty miles of the down-east,
    Yankee state of Maine. It is not far from New England to Old
    France.... There has been no dying out of the race among the French
    Canadians. They number twenty times the thousand that they did 100
    years ago. The American soil has left physical type, religion,
    language, and laws absolutely untouched. They herd together in their
    rambling villages, dance to the fiddle after Mass on Sundays,--as
    gayly as once did their Norman sires,--and keep up the _fleur-de-
    lys_ and the memory of Montcalm. More French than the French are the
    Lower Canada _habitans_. The pulse-beat of the continent finds no echo
    here."--(Sir Charles Dilke.)

In the rosy days of his budding fame, the gifted Henry Ward Beecher
discoursed as follows of the Rock City [4]:--

    "Curious old Quebec!--of all the cities on the continent of America,
    the quaintest.... It is a populated cliff. It is a mighty rock,
    scarped and graded, and made to hold houses and castles which, by a
    proper natural law, ought to slide off from its back, like an ungirded
    load from a camel's back. But they stick. At the foot of the rocks,
    the space of several streets in width has been stolen from the
    river.... We landed....

    "Away we went, climbing the steep streets at a canter with little
    horses hardly bigger than flies, with an aptitude for climbing
    perpendicular walls. It was strange to enter a walled city through low
    and gloomy gates, on this continent of America. Here was a small bit
    of mediaeval Europe perched upon a rock, and dried for keeping, in
    this north-east corner of America, a curiosity that has not its equal,
    in its kind, on this side of the ocean....

    "We rode about as if we were in a picture-book, taming over a new leaf
    at each street!... The place should always be kept old. Let people go
    somewhere else for modern improvements. It is a shame, when Quebec
    placed herself far out of the way, up in the very neighbourhood of
    Hudson's Bay, that it should be hunted and harassed with new-fangled
    notions, and that all the charming inconveniences and irregularities
    of narrow and tortuous streets, that so delight a traveller's eyes,
    should be altered to suit the fantastic notions of modern people....

    "Our stay in Quebec was too short by far. But it was long enough to
    make it certain that we shall come back again. A summer in Canada
    would form one of the most delightful holidays that we can imagine. We
    mean to prove our sincerity by our conduct. And then, if it is not all
    that our imagination promises, we will write again and confess."

Professor Benjamin Silliman discourses thus:--

    "A seat of ancient dominion--now hoary with the lapse of more than two
    centuries--formerly the seat of a French empire in the west--lost and
    won by the blood of gallant armies, and of illustrious commanders--
    throned on a rock, and defended by all the proud defiance of war! Who
    could approach such a city without emotion? Who in Canada has not
    longed to cast his eyes on the water-girt rocks and towers of
    Quebec."--(Silliman's _Tour in Canada_, 1819.)

Charles Lever has left a curious glimpse of Quebec from Diamond Harbour,
as seen, by his incomparable Irish Gil Blas, Mr. Cornelius Cregan, the
appreciated lodger of Madam Thomas John Davis at the "Hotel Davis."

    "As viewed from Diamond Harbour, a more striking city than Quebec is
    seldom seen. The great rock rising above the Lower Town, and crowned
    with its batteries, all bristling with guns, seemed to my eyes the
    very realization of impregnability. I looked upon the ship that lay
    tranquilly on the water below, and whose decks were thronged with
    blue-jackets--to the Highlander who paced his short path as sentry,
    some hundred feet high upon the wall of the fortress, and I thought to
    myself with such defenders as these that standard yonder need never
    carry any other banner. The whole view is panoramic, the bending of
    the river shuts out the channel by which you have made your approach,
    giving the semblance of a lake, on whose surface vessels of every
    nation lie at anchor, some with the sails hung out to dry, gracefully
    drooping from the taper spars; others refitting again for sea, and
    loading the huge pine-trunks moored as vast rafts to the stern. There
    were people everywhere, all was motion, life and activity. Jolly-boats
    with twenty oars, man-of-war gigs bounding rapidly past them with
    eight; canoes skimming by without a ripple, and seemingly without
    impulse, till you caught sight of the lounging figure, who lay at full
    length in the stern, and whose red features were scarce
    distinguishable from the copper-coloured bark of his boat. Some moved
    upon the rafts, and even upon single trunks of trees, as, separated
    from the mass, they floated down on the swift current, boat-hook in
    hand to catch at the first object chance might offer them. The quays
    and the streets leading down to them were all thronged, and as you
    cast your eye upwards, here and there above the tall roofs might be
    seen the winding of stairs that lead to the Upper Town, alike dark
    with the moving tide of men. On every embrasure and gallery, on every
    terrace and platform, it was the same. Never did I behold such a human
    tide.

    "Now there was something amazingly inspiriting in all this,
    particularly when coming from the solitude and monotony of a long
    voyage. [5] The very voice that ye-hoéd; the hoarse challenge of the
    sentinels on the rock; the busy hum of the town--made delicious music
    to my ear; and I could have stood and leaned over the bulwark for
    hours, to gaze at the scene. I own no higher interest invested the
    picture--for I was ignorant of Wolfe. I had never heard of Montcalm--
    the plains of "Abraham" were to me but grassy slopes, and "nothing
    more." It was the life and stir,--the tide of that human ocean, on
    which I longed myself to be a swimmer--these were what charmed me. Nor
    was the deck of the old "Hampden" inactive all the while, although
    seldom attracting much of my notice: soldiers were mustering,
    knapsacks packing, rolls calling, belts buffing, and coats brushing on
    all sides; men grumbling, sergeants cursing; officers swearing; half-
    dressed invalids popping up their heads out of hatchways, answering to
    wrong names, and doctors ordering them down again with many an
    anathema: soldiers in the way of sailors, and sailors always hauling
    at something that interfered with the inspection-drill: every one in
    the wrong place, and each cursing his neighbour for stupidity. At last
    the shore-boats boarded us, as if our confusion wanted anything to
    increase it. Red-faced harbour-masters shook hands with the skipper
    and pilot, and disappeared into the "round-house" to discuss grog and
    the gales. Officers from the garrison came out to welcome their
    friends--for it was the second battalion we had on board of a regiment
    whose first had been some years in Canada;--and then what a rush of
    inquiries were exchanged. "How is the Duke?"--"All quiet in England"--
    "No sign of war in Europe!"--"Are the 8th come home!"--"Where is
    Forbes?"--"Has Davern sold out?" with a mass of such small interests
    as engage men who live in coteries." (Confessions of Con. Cregan, Chap
    XIII.)

There are yet among the living in Quebec many who can recall the good
olden times when our garrison contained two regiments and more of the red-
coated soldiers of England, at the beck of the "Iron Duke"--_him_ of
Waterloo.

A Haligonian tourist thus writes:--

    "HALIFAX, N. S., 1880.--I reached Halifax on the Saturday after
    leaving Quebec.....Nothing was wanting to make my impressions of
    Quebec perfect, but a little more time to widen, deepen and strengthen
    the friendships made; alas! to be severed (for a time) so soon. I went
    expecting to see a city perched on a rock and inhabited by the
    descendants of a conquered race with a chasm between them and every
    Englishman in the Dominion. In place of this, I found the city more
    picturesque, more odd, more grand, than I had ever imagined, and
    peopled by a race who, if conquered in 1759, have had sweet revenge
    ever since, by making a conquest of every stranger who has entered
    Quebec--through his higher nature. It is no wonder that Quebec has
    such a story of song and adventure. There is romance in the river and
    tragedy on the hill, and while the memory of Wolfe and Montcalm is
    green, the city will be the Mecca of the Dominion. But keep the hand
    of the Goth--the practical man--from touching the old historic
    landmarks of the city. A curse has been pronounced on those who remove
    their neighbours' landmark, but what shall be said of those who remove
    the landmarks which separate century from century and period from
    period." (J. T. Bulmer.)

The following affords a good specimen of Capt W. F Butler's pictorial
style:--

    "Spring breaks late over the province of Quebec--that portion of
    America known to our fathers as Lower Canada, and of old to the
    subjects of the Grand Monarque as the kingdom of New France. But when
    the young trees begin to open their leafy lids after the long sleep of
    winter, they do it quickly. The snow is not all gone before the maple
    trees are all green--the maple, that most beautiful of trees! Well has
    Canada made the symbol of her new nationality that tree whose green
    gives the spring its earliest freshness, whose autumn-dying tints are
    richer than the clouds of sunset, whose life-stream is sweeter than
    honey, and whose branches are drowsy through the long summer with the
    scent and the hum of bee and flower! Still the long line of the
    Canadas admits of a varied spring. When the trees are green at Lake
    St. Clair, they are scarcely budding at Kingston, they are leafless at
    Montreal, and Quebec is white with snow. Even between Montreal and
    Quebec, a short night's steaming, there exists a difference of ten
    days in the opening of the summer. But late as comes the summer to
    Quebec, it comes in its loveliest and most enticing form, as though it
    wished to atone for its long delay in banishing from such a landscape
    the cold tyranny of winter. And with what loveliness does the whole
    face of plain, river, lake and mountain turn from the iron clasp of
    icy winter to kiss the balmy lips of returning summer, and to welcome
    his bridal gifts of sun and shower! The trees open their leafy lids to
    look at him--the brooks and streamlets break forth into songs of
    gladness--"the birch tree," as the old Saxon said," becomes beautiful
    in its branches, and rustles sweetly in its leafy summit, moved to and
    fro by the breath of heaven"--the lakes uncover their sweet faces, and
    their mimic shores steal down in quiet evenings to bathe themselves in
    the transparent waters--far into the depths of the great forest speeds
    the glad message of returning glory, and graceful fern, and soft
    velvet moss, and white wax-like lily peep forth to cover rock and
    fallen tree and wreck of last year's autumn in one great sea of
    foliage. There are many landscapes which can never be painted,
    photographed, or described, but which the mind carries away
    instinctively to look at again and again in the after-time--these are
    the celebrated views of the world, and they are not easy to find. From
    the Queen's rampart, on the citadel of Quebec, the eye sweeps over a
    greater diversity of landscape than is probably to be found in any one
    spot in the universe. Blue mountain, far-stretching river, foaming
    cascade, the white sails of ocean ships, the black trunks of many-
    sized guns, the pointed roofs, the white village nestling amidst its
    fields of green, the great isle in mid-channel, the many shades of
    colour from deep blue pine-wood to yellowing corn-field--in what other
    spot on the earth's broad bosom lie grouped together in a single
    glance so many of these "things of beauty" which the eye loves to
    feast on and to place in memory as joys for ever?" (_The Great Lone
    Land._)

Let us complete this mosaic of descriptions and literary gems, borrowed
from English, French and American writers, by a sparkling _tableau_ of the
historic memories of Quebec, traced by a French Canadian _littérateur_,
the Honourable P. J. O. Chauveau:--

    "History is everywhere--around us, beneath us; from the depths of
    yonder valleys, from the top of that mountain, history rises up and
    presents itself to our notice, exclaiming: 'Behold me!'

    "Beneath us, among the capricious meanders of the River St. Charles,
    the Cahir-Coubat of Jacques Cartier, is the very place where he first
    planted the cross and held his first conference with the _Seigneur
    Donnacona_. Here, very near to us, beneath a venerable elm tree,
    which, with much regret, we saw cut down, tradition states that
    Champlain first raised his tent. From the very spot on which we now
    stand, Count de Frontenac returned to Admiral Phipps that proud
    answer, as he said, _from the mouth of his cannon_, which will
    always remain recorded by history. Under these ramparts are spread the
    plains on which fell Wolfe and where, in the following year, the
    Chevalier de Lévis and General Murray fought that other battle, in
    memory of which the citizens of Quebec are erecting (in 1854) a
    monument. Before us, on the heights of Beauport, the souvenir of
    battles not less heroic, recall to our remembrance the names of
    Longueuil, St. Hélène, and Juchereau Duchesnay. Below us, at the foot
    of that tower on which floats the British flag, Montgomery and his
    soldiers all fell, swept by the grape-shot of a single gun pointed by
    a Canadian artilleryman.

    "On the other hand, under that projecting rock, now crowned with the
    guns of old England, the intrepid Dambourgès, sword in hand, drove
    Arnold and his men from the houses in which they had established
    themselves. History is then everywhere around us. She rises as well
    from these ramparts, replete with daring deeds, as from those
    illustrious plains equally celebrated for feats of arms, and she again
    exclaims: 'Here I am!'"




CHAPTER II.

_QUEBEC FOUNDED, JULY 3,_ 1608.


Fancy borne on the outspread wings of memory occasionally loves to soar
o'er the dull, prosaic present, far away into the haunted, dream-land of a
hazy but hopeful past.

Let us recall one year, in the revolving cycle of time--one day above all
days--for dwellers in Champlain's eyry keep pre-eminently sacred that
auspicious 3rd of July, 1608, when his trusty little band, in all twenty-
eight, founded the city destined soon to be the great Louis's proud forta-
lice,--the Queen city of the French western world.

On that memorable July day, would you, kind reader, like to ascend the
lofty slope of Cape Diamond, at the hour when the orb of light is shedding
his fierce, meridian rays on the verdant shores and glancing waters below,
and watch with bated breath the gradually increasing gap in the primeval
forest, which busy French axes are cleaving in order to locate the
residence--"L'ABITATION"--of a loved commander, Samuel de Champlain?

Or else would you, in your partiality for the cool of the evening, prefer
from the dizzy summit, where now stands our citadel, to gaze--which would
be more romantic--over the silent strand at your feet, pregnant with a
mighty future, at the mystic hour of eve, when the pale beams of Diana
will lend incomparable witchery to this novel scene. Few indeed the
objects denoting the unwelcome arrival of Europeans in this forest home of
the red man: the _prise de possession_ by the grasping outer barbarian--
for such Champlain must have appeared to the descendants of king
Donnacona. In the stream, the ripple of the majestic St. Lawrence caresses
the dark, indistinct hull of an armed bark: in Indian parlance, a "big
canoe [6] with wings"; on an adjoining height waves languidly with the
last breath of the breeze the lily standard of old France; on the shore, a
cross recently raised: emblems for us of the past and of the present:
State and Church linked together.

Such the objects decernible amid the hoary oaks, nodding pines, and green
hemlocks, below Cape Diamond, on that eventful 3rd of July, 1608.


THE DWELLING OF CHAMPLAIN.

"Above the point of the Island of Orleans," says Parkman, "a constriction
of the vast channel narrows it to a mile; on one hand, the green heights
of Point Levi; on the other, the cliffs of Quebec. Here, a small stream,
the St. Charles, enters the St. Lawrence, and in the angle betwixt them
rises the promontory, on two sides a natural fortress. Land among the
walnut-trees that formed a belt between the cliffs and the St. Lawrence.
Climb the steep height, now bearing aloft its ponderous load of churches,
convents, dwellings, ramparts, and batteries,--there was an accessible
point, a rough passage, gullied downward where Prescott Gate (in 1871)
opened on the Lower Town. Mount to the highest summit, Cape Diamond, [7]
now zig-zagged with warlike masonry. Then the fierce sun fell on the bald,
baking rocks, with its crisped mosses and parched lichens. Two centuries
and-a-half have quickened the solitude with swarming life, covered the
deep bosom of the river with barge and steamer and gliding sail, and
reared cities and villages on the site of forests; but nothing can destroy
the surpassing grandeur of the scene.

"Grasp the savin anchored in the fissure, lean over the brink of the
precipice, and look downward, a little to the left, on the belt of woods
which covers the strand between the water and the base of the cliffs. Here
a gang of axe-men are at work, and Point Levi and Orleans echo the crash
of falling trees.

"These axe-men were pioneers of an advancing host,--advancing, it is true,
with feeble and uncertain progress: priests, soldiers, peasants, feudal
scutcheons, royal insignia. Not the Middle Age, but engendered of it by
the stronger life of modern centralization; sharply stamped with parental
likeness, heir to parental weakness and parental force.

"A few weeks passed, and a pile of wooden buildings rose on the brink of
the St. Lawrence, on or near the site of the market-place of the Lower
Town of Quebec. The pencil of Champlain, always regardless of proportion
and perspective, has preserved its semblance. A strong wooden wall,
surmounted by a gallery loop-holed for musketry, enclosed three buildings,
containing quarters for himself and his men, together with a court-yard,
from one side of which rose a tall dove-cot, like a belfry. A moat
surrounded the whole, and two or three small cannon were planted on
salient platforms towards the river. There was a large magazine near at
hand, and a part of the adjacent ground was laid out as a garden."
(_Pioneers of France in the New World_, p. 301.)


CHIEF DONNACONA.

On the 14th of September, 1535, under the head "Shipping News, Port of
Quebec," history might jot down some startling items of marine
intelligence; the arrival from sea of three armed vessels--the "Grande
Hermine," the "Petite Hermine," and the "Emerillon." One would imagine
their entrance in port must have awakened as much curiosity among the
startled denizens of Stadacona--the Hurons of 1535--as did the anchoring
in our harbour, in August, 1861, of Capt. Vine Hall's leviathan, the
"Great Eastern." Were the French fleet the first European keels which
furrowed the Laurentian tide under Cape Diamond? We like to think so. Let
the Basques make good their assumed priority: let them produce their
logbook, not merely for the latitude of Newfoundland or Tadoussac, but
also an undisputed entry therein, for the spot where, a century later,
Samuel de Champlain lived, loved, and died. Had the advent of the St. Malo
vikings been heralded by watchful swift-footed retainers to swarthy king
Donnacona, the ruler of the populous town of Stadacona, and a redoubtable
agouhanna of the Huron nation? 'Tis not unlikely.

An entry occurs in the diary of Jacques Cartier, commander of the flagship
"Grande Hermine," to the effect that Donnacona, escorted by twelve canoes,
had met the foreign craft several miles lower than Quebec, where he had
parleyed with his fellow-countrymen, Taiguragny and Domagaya, kidnapped
the year previous at Gaspé and just brought back by Cartier from France;
that, dismissing ten of his twelve canoes, the agouhanna had invited and
received the French commander in his canoe of state, harangued him, and
readily accepted from him a collation of bread and wine, which the captain
of the "Grande Hermine" (thoughtful host) had brought with him.

The meeting over, Donnacona steered for home; and Jacques Cartier ordered
his boats to be manned and ascended the river to seek for a safe anchorage
for his ships. He soon found what he sought, entered then the river Saint
Charles, by him called the St. Croix, landed, crossed the meadows, climbed
the rocks, and threaded the forest. On his return, when he and his party
were rowing for the ships, they had to stand another harangue from the
bank, from an old chief, surrounded by men, boys and some merry squaws, to
whom they gave as presents glass beads, &c., when they regained their
vessels.

What took place at the interview between the French commander and the
Huron potentate? What were the thoughts, hopes, fears of the grim
chieftain on that fateful September day which brought in across the
Atlantic the first wave of foreign invasion--the outer barbarian to his
forest abode?

One would fain depict king Donnacona roaming, solitary and sad; mayhap, on
the ethereal heights of Cape Diamond, watching, with feelings not
unmingled with alarm, the onward course of the French ships--to him
phantoms of ill-omen careering over the dreary waters--until their white
shrouds gradually disappeared under the shadow of the waving pines and
far-spreading oaks which then clad the green banks of the lurking,
tortuous St Charles.

Chief Donnacona, beware! O beware!



CHAPTER III.


_THE "ANCIENT CAPITAL."_


_QUEBEC--ITS HIGHWAYS AND BY-WAYS, EDIFICES, MONUMENTS, CITIZENS,
LEGENDS, CHRONICLES, AND ANTIQUITIES._

  "I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
  With the memorials and the things of fame
  That do renown this city."--(_Shakespeare_.)

What a field here for investigation? Has not each thoroughfare its
distinctive feature--its saintly, heathenish, courtly, national, heroic,
perhaps burlesque, name? Its peculiar origin? traceable sometimes to a
dim--a forgotten past; sometimes to the utilitarian present time. What
curious vistas are unfolded in the birth of its edifices--public and
private--alive with the memories of their clerical, bellicose,
agricultural or mercantile founders? How much mysterious glamour does not
relentless time shed over them in its unceasing march? How many
vicissitudes do they undergo before giving way to modern progress, the
exigencies of commerce, the wants or whims of new masters? The edifices,
did we say? Their origin, their progress, their decay, nay, their
demolition by the modern iconoclast--have they no teachings? How many
phases in the art of the builder and engineer, from the high-peaked Norman
cottage to the ponderous, drowsy Mansard roof--from Champlain's picket
fort to the modern citadel of Quebec--from our primitive legislative
meeting-house to our stately Parliament Buildings on the Grande Allée?

The streets and by-ways of famous old world cities have found chroniclers,
in some instances of rare ability: Timbs, Howitt, Augustus Sala,
Longfellow, &c. Why should not those of our own land obtain a passing
notice?

Is there on American soul a single city intersected by such quaint,
tortuous, legend-loving streets as old Quebec? Is there a town retaining
more unmistakable vestiges of its rude beginnings--of its pristine,
narrow, Indian-haunted, forest paths?

Our streets and lanes bear witness to our dual origin: Champlain,
Richelieu, Buade streets, by their names proclaim the veneration our
fathers had for the memory of men who had watched over the infancy of the
colony, whilst the mystic, saintly nomenclature of others exhibited the
attachment of the early dwellers in Quebec to the hallowed old Roman faith
which presided at their natal hour.

One also finds here and there, in the names of certain thoroughfares,
traces of the sojourn within our walls of popular Governors, famous
Viceroys, long since gathered to their fathers, some of whose ashes mingle
in our cemeteries with the dust of our forefathers--[8] Champlain,
Frontenac, Mesy, De Callières, De Vaudreuil, De la Jonquière, Ramsay,
Carleton, Hope, Dalhousie, Richmond and Aylmer.

A student of history, in the signboards affixed to street corners, loves
to light on the names of men whose memories are fragrant for deeds of
heroism, devotedness, patriotism or learning. Bréboeuf, Champlain,
Dollard, Ferland, Garneau, Christie, Turgeon, Plessis, and many others of
blameless and exemplary life--each has his street. We know of a worthy and
learned old antiquary whose lore and advice has been more than once placed
at our disposal in unravelling the tangled skein on which we are engaged,
who rejoices that his native city, unlike some of the proud capitals of
Europe, is free from vulgar names, such as "Tire-Boudin," "P--t--au
D----le," in gay Paris, and "Crutched Friars," "Pall-Mall," and "Mary-le-
bone," in great London.

In fact, does not history meet you at every turn? Every nook, every lane,
every square, nay, even the stones and rocks, have a story to tell--a
record to unfold--a tale to whisper of savage or civilized warfare--a
memento to thrill the patriot--a legend of romance or of death--war,
famine, fires, earthquakes, land and snow-slides, riot?

Is it not to be apprehended that in time the inmates of such a city might
become saturated with the overpowering atmosphere of this romantic past--
fall a prey to an overweening love of old memories--become indifferent,
and deadened to the feelings and requirements of the present? This does
not necessarily follow. We are, nevertheless, inclined to believe that
outward objects may act powerfully on one's inner nature: that the haunts
and homes of men are not entirely foreign to the thoughts, pursuits and
impulses, good or bad, of their inmates.

Active, cultured, bustling, progressive citizens, we would fain connect
with streets and localities partaking of that character, just as we
associate cheerful abodes with sunshine, and repulsive dwellings with
dank, perennial shadows.

Mr. N. Legendre, in a small work intituled "_Les Échos de Quebec_," has
graphically delineated the leading features of several of our
thoroughfares:--

    "In a large city each street has its peculiar feature. Such a street
    is sacred to commerce--a private residence in it would appear out of
    place. Such another is devoted to unpretending dwellings: the modest
    grocery shop of the corner looks conscious of being there on
    sufferance only. Here resides the well-to-do--the successful merchant;
    further, much further on, dwell the lowly--the poor. Between both
    points there exists a kind of neutral territory, uniting the
    habitations of both classes. Some of the inmates, when calling, wear
    kid gloves, whilst others go visiting in their shirt sleeves. The same
    individual will even indulge in a cigar or light an ordinary clay
    pipe, according as his course is east or west. All this is so marked,
    so apparent, that it suffices to settle in your mind the street or
    ward to which an individual belongs. The ways of each street vary.
    Here, in front of a well-polished door, stands a showy, emblazoned
    carriage, drawn by thoroughbreds; mark how subdued the tints of the
    livery are. There is, however, something _distingué_ about it, and
    people hurrying past assume a respectful bearing.

    "In the next street, the carriage standing at the door is just as
    rich, but its panelling is more gaudy--more striking in colour are the
    horses--more glitter--more profusion about the silver harness
    mountings. Though the livery has more _éclat_, there seems to be
    less distance between the social status of the groom and that of his
    master.

    "Walk on further--the private carriage has merged into the public
    conveyance; still further, and you find but the plain _calèche_.

    "Finally, every kind of vehicle having disappeared, the house-doors
    are left ajar; the inmates like to fraternise in the street. On fine
    evenings the footpath gets strewed with chairs and benches, occupied
    by men smoking--women chatting _al fresco_ unreservedly--laughing
    that loud laugh which says, "I don't care who hears me." Passers-by
    exchange a remark, children play at foot-ball, while the house-dog,
    exulting in the enjoyment of sweet liberty, gambols in the very midst
    of the happy crowd. These are good streets. One travels over them
    cheerfully and gaily. An atmosphere of rowdyism, theft, wantonness,
    hovers over some thoroughfares. Dread and disgust accompany him who
    saunters over them. Their gates and doorways seem dark--full of pit-
    falls. Iron shutters, thick doors with deep gashes, indicate the
    turbulent nature of their inhabitants. Rude men on the sidepaths stare
    you out of countenance, or make strange signs--a kind of occult
    telegraphy, which makes your flesh creep. To guard against an unseen
    foe, you take to the centre of the street--nasty and muddy though it
    should be,--for there you fancy yourself safe from the blow of a
    skull-cracker, hurled by an unseen hand on watch under a gateway. The
    police make themselves conspicuous here by their absence; 'tis a fit
    spot for midnight murder and robbery--unprovoked, unpunished. Honest
    tradesmen may reside here, but not from choice; they are bound to
    ignore street rows; lending a helping hand to a victim would cause
    them to receive, on the morrow, a notice to quit.

    "Be on your guard, if necessity brings you, after nightfall, to this
    unhallowed ground. Danger hovers over, under, round your footsteps. If
    an urchin plays a trick on you at a street corner, heed him not. Try
    and catch him, he will disappear to return with a reinforcement of
    roughs, prepared to avenge his pretended wrongs by violence to your
    person and injury to your purse.

    "Should a drunken man hustle you as he passes, do not mind him: it may
    end in a scuffle, out of which you will emerge bruised and with rifled
    pockets.

    "We dare not tell you to yield to fear, but be prudent. Though
    prudence may be akin to fear, you never more required all your wits
    about you. It is very unlikely you will ever select this road again,
    though it should be a short cut. Such are some of the dangerous
    streets in their main features. There are thoroughfares, on the other
    hand, to which fancy lends imaginary charms; the street in which you
    live, for instance. You think it better, more agreeable. Each object
    it contains becomes familiar, nay cherished by you--the houses, their
    doors, their gables. The very air seems more genial. A fellowship
    springs up between you and your threshold--your land. You get to
    believe they know you as you know them--softening influences--sweet
    emanations of 'Home.'"--_Translation._


_THE UPPER TOWN._

The Upper Town in 1608, with its grand oaks, its walnut trees, its
majestic elms, when it formed part of the primeval forest, must have been
a locality abounding in game. If Champlain, his brother-in-law, Boullé, as
well as his other friends of the Lower Town, [9] had been less eager in
hunting other inhabitants of the forest infinitely more dreaded (the
Iroquois), instead of simply making mention of the foxes which prowled
about the residency (_l'abitation_), they would have noted down some
of the hunting raids which were probably made on the wooded declivities of
Cape Diamond and in the thickets of the Coteau Sainte Geneviève, more
especially when scurvy or the dearth of provisions rendered indispensable
the use of fresh meats. We should have heard of grouse, woodcock, hares,
beavers, foxes, caribou, bears, &c., at that period, as the probable
denizens of the mounts and valleys of ancient Stadacona.

In 1617 the chase had doubtless to give way to tillage of the soil, when
the first resident of the Upper Town, the apothecary Louis Hébert,
established his hearth and home there.

    "He presently," (1617) says Abbé Ferland, "commenced to grub up and
    clear the ground on the site on which the Roman Catholic cathedral and
    the Seminary adjoining now stand, and that portion of the upper town
    which extends from St. Famille Street up to the Hôtel-Dieu. He
    constructed a house and a mill near that part of St. Joseph Street
    where it received St. François and St. Xavier Streets. These edifices
    appear to have been the first which were erected in the locality now
    occupied by the upper town."

At that period there could have existed none other than narrow paths,
irregular avenues following the sinuosities of the forest. In the course
of time these narrow paths were levelled and widened. Champlain and Sir
David Kirtk bothered themselves very little with improving highways.
Overseers of roads and _Grand-Voyers_ were not then dreamed of in _La
Nouvelle France_: those blessed institutions, macadamized [10] roads, date
for us from 1841.

One of the first projects of Governor de Montmagny, after having fortified
the place, was to prepare a plan for a city, to lay out, widen and
straighten the streets, assuredly not without need. Had he further
extended this useful reform, our Municipal Council to-day would have been
spared a great amount of vexation, and the public in general much
annoyance. On the 17th November, 1623, a roadway or ascent leading to the
upper town had been effected, less dangerous than that which had
previously existed.

    "As late as 1682, as appears by an authentic record (_procès-verbal_)
    of the conflagration, this steep road was but fourteen feet wide. It
    was built of branches, covered with earth. Having been rendered
    unserviceable by the fire, the inhabitants had it widened six feet, as
    they had to travel three miles, after the conflagration, to enter the
    upper town by another hill."--(T. B. Bédard.)

In the summer season, our forefathers journeyed by water, generally in
birch-bark canoes. In winter they had recourse to snow-shoes.

To what year can we fix the advent of wheeled vehicles? We have been
unable to discover.

The first horse presented by the inhabitants to the Governor of the colony
arrived from France on the 25th June, 1647. [11] Did His Excellency use
him as a saddle horse only? or, on the occasion of a New Year's day, when
he went to pay his respects to the Jesuit Fathers, and to the good ladies
of the Ursulines, to present, with the compliments of the season, the
usual New Year's gifts, was he driven in a _cariole_, and in the summer
season in a _calèche_? Here, again, is a nut to crack for commentators.
[12]

Although there were horned cattle at Quebec in 1623, oxen for the purpose
of ploughing the land were first used on the 27th April, 1628.

    "Some animals--cows, sheep, swine, &c.--had been imported as early as
    1608. In 1623, it is recorded that two thousand bundles of fodder were
    brought from the pasture grounds at _Cap Tourmente_ to Quebec for
    winter use."--(Miles.)

On the 16th of July, 1665, [13] a French ship brought twelve horses. These
were doubtless the "mounts" of the brilliant staff of the Marquis de
Tracy, Viceroy. These dashing military followers of Colonel de Salières,
this _jeunesse dorée_ of the Marquis de Tracy, mounted on these twelve
French chargers, which the aborigines named "the moose-deer (_orignaux_)
of Europe," doubtless cut a great figure at Quebec. Did there exist
_Tandems_, driving clubs, in 1665? _Quien sabe?_ A garrison life in 1665-7
and its amusements must have been much what it was one century later, when
the "divine" Emily Montague [14] was corresponding with her dear "Colonel
Rivers," from her Sillery abode in 1766; she then, amongst the vehicles in
use, mentions, _calèches_. [15]

They were not all saints such as Paul Dupuy, [16] the patriarchal seigneur
of _Ile-aux-Oies_, these military swells of Colonel de Salières! Major
Lafradière, for instance, might have vied with the most outrageous rake in
the _Guards_ of Queen Victoria who served in the colony two centuries
later.

If there were at Quebec twelve horses for the use of gentlemen, they were
doubtless not suffered to remain idle in their stables. The rugged paths
of the upper town were levelled and widened; the public highway ceased to
be reserved for pedestrians only. This is what we wanted to arrive at.

In reality, the streets of Quebec grew rapidly into importance in 1665.
Improvements effected during the administration of the Chevalier de
Montmagny had been highly appreciated. The early French had their _Saint
Louis (Grande Allée), Saint Anne, Richelieu, D'Aiguillon, Saint John,
streets_, to do honour to their Master, Louis XIII.; his Queen the
beautiful Anne of Austria; his astute Premier the Cardinal of Richelieu;
his pious niece la Duchesse D'Aiguillon; his land surveyor and engineer
Jehan or Jean Bourdon. This last functionary had landed at Quebec on the
8th August, 1634, with a Norman priest, the Abbé Jean LeSueur de Saint-
Sauveur, who left his surname (St. Sauveur) to the populous municipality
adjoining St. Roch suburbs. [17]

In the last and in the present century, St. Louis Street was inhabited by
many eminent persons. Chief Justice Sewell resided in the stately old
mansion, up to June 1881 occupied as the Lieutenant-Governor's offices;
this eminent jurist died in 1839. "One bright, frosty evening of January
1832," says Mr. Chauveau, "at the close of a numerously attended public
meeting held at the Ottawa Hotel, to protest against the arrest of Messrs.
Tracy, editor of the _Vindicator_, and Duvernay, editor of the _Minerve_,
the good citizens of Quebec, usually so pacific, rushed in a noisy
procession, led by a dozen students wearing tri-coloured ribbons in their
button-holes, and sang the _Marseillaise_ and the _Parisienne_ under the
windows of the Chief Justice, whose ear was little accustomed to such a
concert." The ermined sage, 'tis said, was so startled, that he made sure
a revolution was breaking out.

"Among the fiery, youthful leaders, the loudest in their patriotic
outburst, there was one who would then have been much surprised had any
one predicted that after being President of the Legislative Council, Prime
Minister of the Canadas, and knighted by H. R. H. the Prince of Wales in
person, he would one day, as Lieutenant-Governor, enter in state this same
former residence of Chief Justice Sewell, whilst the cannon of Britain
would roar a welcome, the flag of England stream over his head, and a
British regiment present arms to him." Such, however, has been the fate of
Sir Narcissus Fortunatus Belleau.

The mansion of M. de Lotbinière, in St. Louis street, was the residence of
Madame Pean, the _chère amie_ of M. Bigot the Intendant. The late
Judge Elmsley resided there about the year 1813; Government subsequently
purchased it to serve as an officers' barracks. Nearly opposite the old
Court-House (burned in 1872), stands the "Kent House," in which His Royal
Highness the late Duke of Kent resided in summer, 1791-3. [18] No. 42 St.
Louis Street is the house [19] which belonged to the cooper, François
Gobert; it now has become historical. In it were deposited the remains of
General Montgomery on the 31st December, 1775. This summer it is leased by
Louis Gonzague Baillargé, Esq., the proprietor, to Widow Pigott, whose
late husband was in the "B" Battery.

In the street sacred to Louis XIII., St. Louis street, Messrs. Brown [20]
& Gilmor established, in 1764, [21] their printing office for the _Quebec
Gazette_, "two doors higher up than the Secretary's Office," wherever this
latter may have stood. The _Gazette_ office was subsequently removed to
Parloir Street, and eventually settled down for many a long year at the
corner of Mountain Hill, half-way up, facing _Break-Neck_ steps,--the
house was, with many others, removed in 1850 to widen Mountain Street.
According to a tradition published in the _Gazette_ of the 2nd May, 1848,
the prospectus of this paper had, it would appear, been printed in the
printing office of Benjamin Franklin.

This venerable sheet, which had existed one hundred and ten years, when it
was merged, in 1874, by purchase of the copyright, into the _Morning
Chronicle_, in its early days, was nearly the sole exponent of the wants--
of the gossip (in prose and in verse)--and of the daily events of Quebec.
As such, though, from the standard of to-day, it may seem quaint and puny,
still it does not appear an untruthful mirror of social life in the
ancient capital. Its centenary number of June, 1864, with the fyles of
the _Gazette_ for 1783, have furnished the scholarly author of the
"Prophecy of Merlin," John S. Reade, with material for an excellent sketch
of this pioneer of Canadian journalism, of which our space will permit us
to give but some short extracts:--

    "The first number of the _Quebec Gazette_, judged by the _fac-simile_
    before me, was a very unpretending production. It consists of four
    folio pages, two columns to each page, with the exception of the
    'Printer's Address to the Public,' which takes up the full width of
    the page, and is written in French and English, the matter in both
    languages being the same, with the exception of a Masonic
    advertisement, which is in English only. In the address, accuracy,
    freedom and impartiality are promised in the conduct of the paper. The
    design of the publishers includes 'a view of foreign affairs and
    political transactions from which a judgment may be formed of the
    interests and connections of the several powers of Europe'; and care
    is to be taken 'to collect the transactions and occurrences of our
    mother-country, and to introduce every remarkable event, uncommon
    debates, extraordinary performance and interesting turn of affairs
    that shall be thought to merit the notice of the reader as matter of
    entertainment, or that can be of service to the publick as inhabitants
    of an English colony.' Attention is also to be given to the affairs of
    the American colonies and West India Islands; and, in the absence of
    foreign intelligence, the reader is to be presented with 'such
    originals, in prose and verse, as will please the fancy and instruct
    the judgment. And,' the address continues, 'here we beg leave to
    observe that we shall have nothing so much at heart as the support of
    virtue and morality and the noble cause of liberty. The refined
    amusements of literature and the pleasing veins of well-pointed wit
    shall also be considered as necessary to the collection; interspersed
    with other chosen pieces and curious essays extracted from the most
    celebrated authors; so that, blending philosophy with politicks,
    history, &c., the youth of both sexes will be improved, and persons of
    all ranks agreeably and usefully entertained.'

    "As an inducement to advertisers, it is held out that the circulation
    of the _Gazette_ will extend, not only through the British colonies,
    but also through the West India Islands and the trading ports of Great
    Britain and Ireland. The address very sensibly concludes with the
    following remarks, which, however, cast a shade over the rather
    tedious prolegomena: 'Our intention to please the whole, without
    offence to any individual, will be better evinced by our practice than
    by writing volumes on this subject. This one thing we beg may be
    believed, that party prejudice or private scandal will never find a
    place in this paper.'

    "With this large promise began the first Canadian newspaper on the
    21st of June, 1764.

    "The news in the first number is all foreign. There are despatches
    from Riga, St. Petersburg, Rome, Hermanstadt, Dantzic, Vienna,
    Florence and Utrecht, the dates ranging from the 8th of March to the
    11th of April. There are also items of news from New York, bearing
    date the 3rd, and from Philadelphia the 7th of May. News-collecting
    was then a slow process, by land as well as by sea.

    "Of the despatches, the following is of historical importance:
    'London, March 10th. It is said that a scheme of taxation of our
    American colonies has for some time been in agitation, that it had
    been previously debated in the Parliament whether they had power to
    lay a tax on colonies which had no representative in Parliament and
    determined in the affirmative,' etc. The occasional insertion of a
    dash instead of a name, or the wary mention of a 'certain great
    leader' or 'a certain great personage' tell a simple tale of the
    jealousy with which the press was then regarded both in England and on
    the continent. The prosecution of Smollett, Cave, Wilkes and others
    were still fresh in the minds of printers and writers.

    "Another despatch informs the readers of the _Gazette_ of an _arrêt_
    lately issued for the banishment of the Jesuits from France, and
    another of a deputation of journeymen silk weavers who waited on the
    King at St. James with a petition setting forth their grievances from
    the clandestine importation of French silk, to which His Majesty
    graciously replied, promising to have the matter properly laid before
    Parliament.

    "An extract from a letter from Virginia gives an account of some
    Indian outrages, and there is some other intelligence of a similar
    nature. The other news is of a like temporary interest.

    "I have already mentioned a masonic advertisement. I now give it in
    full:

    NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN,

    That on _Sunday_, the 24th, being the Festival of _St. Jhon_ (sic),
    such strange BRETHREN who may have a desire of joining the Merchants
    Lodge, No. 1, _Quebec_, may obtain Liberty, by applying to _Miles
    Prenties_, at the Sun, in _St. John Street_, who has Tickets, Price
    _Five Shillings_, for that Day.

    "One thing is evident, that a printing establishment of 1764 had to be
    supplied with abundance of italics and capitals to meet the exigencies
    of the typographic fashion of the time.

    "Of the two remaining advertisements, one is an order of the Collector
    of Customs for the prevention of composition for duties and the other
    gives a list of 'an assortment of goods,' 'just imported from London,
    and to be sold at the lowest prices by John Baird, in the upper part
    of Mr. Henry Morin's house at the entry of the Cul de Sac'--an
    assortment which is very comprehensive, ranging from leather breeches
    to frying-pans. From this and subsequent trade advertisements we are
    able to gather some not unimportant information as to the manner of
    living of the citizens of Quebec in those days." [22]

William Brown was succeeded in the editorship and proprietorship of this
venerable sheet by his nephew, Samuel Neilson, the elder brother of John
Neilson, who for years was the trusted member for the County of Quebec; as
widely known as a journalist--a legislator--in 1822 our worthy ambassador
to England--as he was respected as a patriot.

Samuel Neilson had died in 1793;--his young brother and _protégé_, John,
born at Dornald, in Scotland, in 1776, being, in 1793, a minor, the
_Gazette_ was conducted by the late Rev. Dr. Alex. Sparks, his guardian,
until 1796. When John Neilson became of full age, he assumed the direction
of the paper for more than half a century, either in his own name or in
that of his son Samuel. Hon. John Neilson closed his long and spotless
career, at his country seat (Dornald), at Cap Rouge, on the 1st February,
1848, aged 71 years. Who has not heard of the Nestor of the Canadian
Press, honest John Neilson?  May his memory ever remain bright and
fragrant--a beacon to guide those treading the intricate paths of
Journalism--a shining light to generations yet unborn!

In a pretty rustic cemetery, the site of which was presented by himself to
the Presbyterian Church of Valcartier, near Quebec, were laid, on the 4th
February, 1848, the remains of this patriotic man--escorted by citizens of
every origin, after an eloquent address had been delivered by the Rev. Dr.
John Cook, the present pastor of St Andrew's Church.

The Literary and Historical Society of Quebec is indebted to his son John
Neilson, of Dornald, for a precious relic, the iron lever of the first
Press used at Quebec in 1764--precious, indeed, as a souvenir of Canadian
Journalism.

There are indeed many Scotch names associated with the Quebec Press. Space
precludes us from enlarging more on this subject. In alluding to notable
Quebec Journalists we are bound to name Daniel Wilkie, LL.D., the editor
of the Quebec _Star_,--a literary gazette--in 1818--still better
remembered as the esteemed instructor of Quebec youth for forty years.

Dr. Wilkie was born at Tollcross, in Scotland, in 1777, one year later
than John Neilson: he settled in Quebec in 1803, and died here on the 10th
May, 1851. His pupils had the following truthful words inscribed on the
monument they erected to their patron in Mount Hermon cemetery:

  "He was a learned scholar
  And indefatigable student of philosophy and letters,
  An able and successful instructor of youth,
  Of genuine uprightness and guileless simplicity
  A devout, benevolent and public spirited man."

The Abbé Vignal resided at the corner of St. Louis and Parloir street,
previous to joining the _Sulpiciens_. In October, 1661, he was roasted
alive and partly eaten by the Mohawks at Isle à la Pierre, _la Prairie de
la Magdeleine_, near Montreal. In our day, the judicial and parliamentary
heads, and the Bar have monopolized the street. In it have resided at
various times, Sir N. F. Belleau, Chief Justice Duval, the Judges
Taschereau, Tessier, Bossé, Caron, Routhier; Hon. H. L. Langevin, P.
Pelletier, M.P.; Messrs. Bossé, Baby, Alleyn, Languedoc, Tessier,
Chouinard, Hamel, Gauthier, Bradley, Dunbar, _cum multis aliis_, some
of whose rustic clients are as early birds as those in the days of Horace,
and scruple not to wake up their trusted advisers, "_sub galli cantum_."
[23]

St. Louis street legal luminaries are careful not to endanger their hard-
earned reputations by delivering their consultations with the oracular,
Solon-like gravity of the barristers who flourished in the palmy days of
Hortensius or Justinian. 'Twould be an anachronism.  The traditional fee,
however, is rarely omitted. A busy day, indeed, in this neighborhood,
watched over by the shades of Louis XIII., St. Louis street, is, in each
year, the 1st of September, when the close of the sultry midsummer
vacation brings round "the first day of term," then

  "Grave gownsmen, full of thought, to 'chambers hie,
  From court to court, perplexed, attorneys fly;
  ... each! Quick scouring to and thro',
  And wishing he could cut himself in two
  That he two places at a time might reach,
  So he could charge his six and eightpence each."
               --(_The Bar, a Poem_, 1825.)

Matters judicial, legal, financial, etc., have much changed--we are
inclined to say improved--in Canada, especially for the Judges. "I will
not say," writes the satirical La Hontan, "that justice is more chaste and
disinterested here than in France; but, at least, if she is sold, she is
sold cheaper. We do not pass through the clutches of advocates, the talons
of attorneys and the claws of clerks. These vermin do not infest Canada
yet. Everybody pleads his own cause. Our Themis is prompt, and she does
not bristle with fees, costs and charges. The judges have only four
hundred francs a year--a great temptation to look for law in the bottom of
the suitor's purse. Four hundred francs! Not enough to buy a cap and gown,
so these gentry never wear them." [24] Justice is not now sold, either in
Quebec or elsewhere, but judges, on the other hand, viz., in Ottawa,
receive, not "four hundred francs," but thirty-five thousand francs
($7,000) a year, and have "enough to buy a cap and a gown," yea, and a
brilliant red one, to boot. _Voilà un progrès._

On an old plan, in our possession, of the Cape and Mount Carmel, showing
the whereabouts of lots and the names of their proprietors, drawn by Le
Maître Lamorille, a royal surveyor, bearing date 20th May, 1756, and duly
sanctioned by the French Intendant Bigot on the 23rd January, 1759, can be
seen at Mont Carmel, St. Louis street, a lot marked "No. 16, M. Pean."
[25]

M. Pean, Town Major of Quebec, a trusted confederate of the Intendant
Bigot, the proprietor of this land, was the husband of the beautiful
Angélique de Meloises, the _inamorata_ of the voluptuous and munificent
Intendant. In her youth she had been a pupil of the Ursuline nuns. In his
_Reminiscences of Quebec_, 2nd edition republished in 1859, Col. Cockburn
thus alludes to this St. Louis street house (now Dominion property and
occupied by Lt.-Col. Forest and Lt.-Col. D'Orsonnes). "It sometimes happened
in those days, when a gentleman possessed a very handsome wife, that the
husband was sent to take charge of a distant post, where he was sure to
make his fortune. Bigot's _chère amie_ was Madame P---- in consequence of
which as a matter of course, Mr. P---- became prodigiously wealthy. Bigot
had a house that stood where the officers barracks in St Louis street, now
(1851) stands. One New Year's Day he presented this house to Madame P----
as a New Year's gift."

Mr. Kirby, in his "_Chien d'Or_," a historical novel of rare Merit,
thus recalls this house--"The family mansion of the des Meloises was a
tall and rather pretentious edifice overlooking the fashionable rue St
Louis where it still stands, old and melancholy as if mourning over its
departed splendors. Few eyes look up now-a-days to its broad façade. It
was otherwise when the beautiful Angélique de Meloises sat of summer
evenings on the balcony, surrounded by a bevy of Quebec's fairest
daughters, who loved to haunt her windows where they could see and be seen
to the best advantage exchanging salutations, smiles and repartees with
the gay young officers and gallants who rode or walked along its lively
thoroughfare."

The novelist has selected this historic house for the meeting of the
lovers, on Christmas Eve 1748. Here Le Gardeur de Repentigny, the loyal
and devoted cavalier was to meet the fascinating, but luckless Cleopatra
of St Louis street a century ago and more.

    "As Le Gardeur spoke, adds Mr. Kirby; a strain of heavenly harmony
    arose from the chapel of the Convent of the Ursulines, where they were
    celebrating midnight service for the safety of New France. Amid the
    sweet voices that floated up on the notes of the pealing organ was
    clearly distinguished that of Mère St. Borgia, the aunt of Angélique,
    who led the choir of nuns. In trills and cadences of divine melody,
    the voice of Mère St. Borgia rose higher and higher, like a spirit
    mounting the skies. The words were indistinct, but Angélique knew them
    by heart. She had visited her aunt in the convent, and had learned the
    new hymn composed by her for the solemn occasion. As they listened
    with quiet awe to the supplicating strain, Angélique repeated to Le
    Gardeur the words of the hymn as it was sung by the choir of nuns:--

      Soutenez, grande Reine,
        Notre pauvre pays!
      Il est votre domaine,
        Faites fleurir nos lis!
      L'Anglais sur nos frontières,
        Porte ses étandards
      Exaucez nos prières
        Protégez nos remparts!"

    "The hymn ceased. Both stood mute until the watchman cried the hour in
    the silent street."

We shall not follow further the beautiful but heartless Cleopatra through
her deadly schemes of conquest, or in her flight after the Intendant.
Sixteen years after the departure of the Court beauty, on a dark, stormy
winter morning, the 31st December, 1775, a loud note of alarm awoke at
dawn from their slumbers the demure denizens of St. Louis street. It was
the captain of the guard, Captain Malcolm Fraser, [26] formerly of
Fraser's Highlanders (78th), but now of the 84th Royal Emigrants, Col.
Allan McLean--who, on going his rounds between 4 and 5 in the morning, had
passed the guard at St. Louis gate, and had noticed flashes like lightning
on the heights without the works. Convinced it was for an attack, he sent
notice to all the guards, and ran down St. Louis street, calling "Turn
out" as loud and as often as he could. The alarm soon caught the quick ear
of the General (Guy Carleton) and the picquet at the Récollets Convent was
instantly turned out. Captain Fraser's alarm was timely. Before eight
o'clock on that memorable December morning, Benedict Arnold had been
wounded, routed at the Sault au Matelot barricade, and 427 of his daring
men taken prisoners of war, whilst the Commander-in-Chief, Brigadier-
General Richard Montgomery and thirteen followers were lying dead in their
snowy shrouds at Près-de-Ville. The rest had taken flight.

The saddest sight ever witnessed in St. Louis street was that which
heralded to its awe-struck denizens the issue of the momentous conflict on
the adjoining heights in Sept. 1759.

In the paper read by the writer before the Literary and Historical Society
of Quebec, on the 3rd of December, 1879, the mournful appearance of the
French hero, Montcalm, is thus described:--

    "The morning of the 13th September, 1759, has dawned; an astounding
    rumour fills the air; the citizens of Quebec repeat with bated breath:
    _Wolfe's army is at the gates of the city._

    "Hark! What means this deafening roar of artillery--this hissing of
    shot and shell--these rolling, murderous volleys of musketry in the
    direction of the heights of Abraham?

    "Hark! to these loud cheers--British cheers mixed with the discordant
    yells of those savage warriors, Fraser's Highlanders! The fate of a
    continent has just been decided. The genius of William Pitt has
    triumphed, though victory was bought at a dear price.

    "Here comes from St. Louis gate [27] on his way to the Château, pale,
    but dauntless--on a black charger--supported by two grenadiers, one on
    each side of his horse, a General officer wearing the uniform which
    won at Fontenoy, won at Laufeldt, as well as at the Monongahela [28]
    and at Carillon. [29] A bloody trail crimsons the _Grande Allée_,
    St. Louis street, on that gloomy September day. My friends, 'tis the
    life-blood of a hero. Drop in reverential silence, on the moistened
    earth, a sympathetic tear; France's chivalrous leader, the victor of
    many battle-fields, has returned from his last campaign.

    "_Oh! mon Dieu! mon Dieu! Le Marquis est tué,_" is repeated by female
    voices as the death-stricken but intrepid general glides past, to
    which he courteously replies, trying to quiet their fears, 'that he
    was not seriously hurt, and not to distress themselves on his
    account.' '_Ce n'est rien! ce n'est rien! ne vous affligez pas pour
    moi, mes bonnes amies._'

    "You have all heard the account of the death-bed scene--of his tender
    solicitude for the good name of France--of his dying injunctions to de
    Ramesay, the King's lieutenant in charge of the Quebec Garrison, and
    to the Colonel of the Roussillon Regiment. '_Gentlemen, to your
    keeping I commend the honour of France. Endeavour to secure the
    retreat of my army to-night beyond Cape Rouge. As for myself, I shall
    pass the night with God, and prepare for death._'

    "At nine o'clock in the evening of that 14th of September, 1759, a
    funeral cortege, issuing from the castle, winds its way through the
    dark and obstructed streets to the little church of the Ursulines.
    With the heavy tread of the coffin-bearers keeps time the measured
    footsteps of the military escort. De Ramesay and the other officers of
    the garrison following to their resting-place the lifeless remains of
    their illustrious commander-in-chief. No martial pomp was displayed
    around that humble bier, but the hero who had afforded at his dying
    hour the sublime spectacle of a Christian yielding up his soul to God
    in the most admirable sentiments of faith and resignation, was not
    laid in unconsecrated ground. No burial rite could be more solemn than
    that hurried evening service performed by torchlight under the
    dilapidated roof of a sacred asylum, where the soil had been first
    laid bare by one of the rude engines of war--a bombshell. The grave
    tones of the priests murmuring the _Libera me, Domine_ were responded
    to by the sighs and tears of consecrated virgins, henceforth the
    guardians of the precious deposit, which, but for inevitable fate,
    would have been reserved to honour some proud mausoleum. With gloomy
    forebodings and bitter thoughts de Ramesay and his companions in arms
    withdrew in silence.

    "A few citizens had gathered in, and among the rest one led by the
    hand his little daughter, who, looking into the grave, saw and
    remembered, more than three fourths of a century later, the rough
    wooden box, which was all the ruined city could afford to enclose the
    remains of her defender.

    "The skull of the Marquis of Montcalm, exhumed in the presence of the
    Rev. Abbé Maguire, almoner, in 1833, many here present, I am sure,
    have seen in a casket, reverently exposed in the room of the present
    almoner of the Ursuline Convent."


SOCIETY UNDER EARLY ENGLISH RULE.

Under the sway of the English Government, Canada soon recovered her wonted
gaiety, and the social condition of the country, following on so large an
admixture of a different nationality, is a subject stimulating inquiry. We
cannot do better than have recourse again to Mr. Reade's graphic pen in an
article on "British Canada in the Last Century," contributed to the New
Dominion Monthly, and suggested by the _Quebec Gazette_ of 1783, the St.
Louis Street journal above quoted:--

    "If there were nothing left to the enquirer but the single
    advertisement of John Baird, which appeared in the first number of the
    Quebec _Gazette_, as the basis of information, he might, with a
    moderate power of inductiveness, construct a very fair account of the
    mode of living pursued at Quebec a hundred years ago. But the fact is
    he is overwhelmed with _data_, and his chief difficulty is to
    choose with discrimination. There is certainly ample evidence to show
    that the inhabitants of the ancient capital did not stint themselves
    in the luxuries of their day and generation. The amount of wine which
    they consumed was something enormous, nor are we wanting in proof that
    it was used among the better classes to an extent which public opinion
    would not allow at the present day. A correspondent, more inclined to
    sobriety than his fellow citizens, after complimenting Quebec society
    for its politeness and hospitality--in which qualities it still
    excels--finds fault with the social custom by which 'men are excited
    and provoked by healths and rounds of toasts to fuddle themselves in
    as indecent a manner as if they were in a tavern or in the most
    unpolished company.' In connection with this state of affairs it may
    be interesting to give the prices of different wines at that period:
    Fine Old Red Port was sold at 17 shillings a dozen, Claret at 12s.,
    Priniac at 17s.; Muscat at 24s., Modena at 27s., Malaga at 17s.;
    Lisbon at 17s.; Fyall at 15s.

    "Mr. Simon Fraser, perhaps one of those converted Jacobites who scaled
    the height of Quebec, in 1759, turned civilian, gives us the price of
    tea: Single Green tea is 13s. a pound, Best Hyson, 25s; Bohea, 6/6d.
    Pity that tea was so dear and wine so cheap! Bread was very cheap, and
    large quantities of wheat were exported--whereas now Lower Canada has
    to import the most of its cereals. Great attention was paid to dress,
    and though no sumptuary laws were in force, the principle on which
    they were founded was still remembered, and attire bespoke the
    position of the wearer. The articles and styles advertised by drapers
    and tailors are, of course, in accordance with the manufacture and
    fashion of the time. The lists of dry goods and fancy goods are very
    full, but to those engaged in the business now the antique
    nomenclature might be puzzling. Irish linen was sold at from 1/6 to
    7/0 per yard, and Irish sheeting at from 1/6 to 2/6. We are not told
    the prices of tammies or durants, romals or molletons, cades or
    shalloons, but we are always carefully informed that they may be had
    at the lowest prices. Pains are also taken, in many instances, to
    indicate the previous experience of the advertisers. Thus tailors and
    mantua-makers generally 'hail from' London. Mr. Hanna, the watch-
    maker, whose time-keepers still tick attestation to his industry and
    popularity, is proud to have learned his trade by the banks of the
    Liffey. Mr. Bennie, tailor and habit-maker, from Edinburgh, 'begs
    leave to inform the public that all gentlemen and ladies who will be
    so good as to favour him with their custom may depend upon being
    faithfully served on the shortest notice and in the newest fashion for
    ready money or short credit, on the most reasonable terms.' There were
    peruke-makers in those days and they seem to have thriven well in
    Quebec, if we may judge by their advertised sales of real estate.
    Jewellers also seem to have had plenty to do, as they advertise
    occasionally for assistants instead of customers. Furriers, hatters,
    _couturières_ and shoemakers also present their claims to public
    favour, so that there was no lack of provision for the wants of the
    outer man.

    "From the general tone and nature of the advertisements it is easily
    inferred that the society of Quebec soon after the conquest was gay
    and luxurious. We are not surprised when we find that a theatrical
    company found it worth their while to take up their abode there. Among
    the pieces played we find Home's 'Douglas' and Otway's 'Venice
    Preserved.' The doors were opened at five o'clock and the
    entertainment began at half-past six! The frequenters of the 'Thespian
    Theatre' were a select and privileged class, and only subscribers were
    admitted. Private theatricals were much in vogue; and, indeed, there
    was every variety of amusement which climate could allow or suggest,
    or the lovers of frolic devise. Nor were bards wanting to celebrate
    these festivities, witness the following extract from a 'carioling
    song:'

      "'Not all the fragrance of the spring,
      Nor all the tuneful birds that sing,
      Can to the _Plains_ the ladies bring,
        So soon as carioling.

      "'Nor Venus with the winged Loves,
      Drawn by her sparrows or her doves,
      So gracefully or swiftly moves,
        As ladies carioling,"

    "Another poet, whose mind was evidently less healthily braced by out-
    door exercise, gives us a very different picture of the recreations of
    the period. It occurs in the course of an essay in versification
    called 'Evening.'

      "'Now minuets o'er, the country dance is formed
        See every little female passion rise,
      By jealousy, by pride, by envy warmed,
        See Adam's child the child of Eve despise.

      "'With turned-up nose Belinda Chloe eyes,
        Chloe Myrtilla with contempt surveys,
      "What! with that creature dance!" Cleora cries,
        "That vulgar wretch! I faint--unlace my stays.

       *       *        *       *        *

      "'Now meet in groups the philosophic band,
        Not in the porch, like those of ancient Greece,
      But where the best Madeira is at hand
        From thought the younger students to release

      "'For Hoyle's disciples hold it as a rule
        That youth for knowledge should full dearly pay,
      Wherefore to make young cubs the fitter tool
        Presuming sense by Lethean drafts they slay.

       *       *        *       *        *

      "'With all the fury of a tempest torn,
        With execrations horrible to hear,
      By all the wrath of disappointment borne,
        The cards, their garments, hair, the losers tear.'

    "The winner's unfeeling composure is described in another verse, and

      "'Now dissipation reigns in varied forms
        Now riot in the bowl the senses steeps,
      Whilst nature's child, secure from passion's storms,
        With tranquil mind in sweet oblivion sleeps.'

    "It is to be hoped, for the honour of the ladies and gentlemen of old
    Quebec, that 'Asmodeus' was under the malign influence of envy, hatred
    and all uncharitableness when he wrote those cynical verses. If he
    wrote the truth we cannot be too thankful that the Chloes and Cleoras
    are dead and buried.

    "Who was Miss Hannah MacCulloch? She _was_ a young lady once; and, if
    we may believe her panegyrist, was a beauty in her day. The acrostic
    in her honor is anonymous, and occasion is taken in the course of it
    to almost mention some other young ladies by the way of making a
    climax of her charms. The poet seems to have been inspired by
    indignation at the insinuations of 'Asmodeus,' for he begins thus.

      "'Muses, how oft does Satire's vengeful gall
        Invoke your powers to aid its bitter sting,'

    and then he prefers his own claims to the favor of the Nine

      "'Sure you will rather listen to my call,
        Since beauty and Quebec's fair nymphs I sing'

    "It seems his petition was heard, for he forthwith begins his
    laudation:

      "'Henceforth Diana in Miss S--ps--n see,
        As noble and majestic is her air,
      Nor can fair Venus, W--lc--s, vie with thee,
        Nor all her heavenly charms with thine compare.

      "'Around the B--ch--rs Juno's glory plays,
        Her power and charms in them attract our praise
      Minerva, who with beauty's queen did vie
        And patronized all the finer arts,
      Crowned the McN--ls with her divinity,
        Crowned them the queens of beauty and of hearts.

      "'Unto fair F--m--n now I turn my song,
        Lovely in all she says, in all she does,
      Lo! to her toilet see each goddess throng,
        One cannot all, but each a charm bestows
      Could all these beauties in one female be,
        _Her_ whom I sing would be the lovely she.'

    "This effusion provoked more criticism than many a book of poetry is
    subjected to nowadays, and the censors were in their turn criticized
    by others. Montreal even took part in this literary tournament. But we
    are left in the dark as to its effect on the spirits, tempers or
    destinies of Miss MacCulloch and her sister belles.

    "It would seem that the author was a young clerk or merchant of
    Quebec, as one of the critics spitefully tells him not to desert his
    shop. The ladies themselves do not escape, one writer suggesting that
    they are coquettish enough already without making them more so. The
    Montreal correspondent is warned off as an intruder, and told that he
    had better have saved his ninepence of postage money. Just imagine
    this silly acrostic furnishing gossip for Quebec and matter for the
    _Gazette_ for two months!

    "As another note of the state of society at that time may be mentioned
    occasional advertisements for the sale of negro lads and wenches, or
    of rewards for the recovery and restoration of missing ones. Slavery
    was not abolished in Lower Canada till 1803. In Upper Canada, as a
    separate province, it hardly ever existed. Did the manumitted blacks
    remain in Canada after their liberation, or did they seek a more
    congenial climate?

    "For education there does not seem to have been any public provision,
    but private schools for both sexes were numerous. These were probably
    expensive, so that the poorer classes were virtually debarred from the
    advantages of learning. The instruction of Catholic children was in
    the hands of the clergy, and it may be that in some of the conventual
    schools a certain number were admitted free of expense or at reduced
    rates. It would appear that some of the young ladies were sent to
    English boarding-schools, if we may judge by advertisements in which
    the advantages of these institutions are set forth.

    "A Miss or Mrs. Agnes Galbraith not only taught school, but also
    carried on the millinery business, to which she informs the public
    that she had served a regular apprenticeship, besides having been 'a
    governess for several years to a genteel boarding-school.'

    "The principal of a boys' school who resided at Three Rivers
    'respectfully begs leave to remark that he means to presume no further
    than he is perfectly able to perform, and build his hope of
    encouragement on no other foundation than his assiduity to merit it.'
    His 'course' is nevertheless a pretty full one, including English,
    French, Latin, Greek, writing in a natural and easy style after the
    best precedents; arithmetic, vulgar and decimal; geography, with use
    of the globes; geometry, navigation with all the _late modern_
    improvements; algebra, and every other useful and ornamental branch of
    mathematical learning. Some of the other male teachers write in a
    similar strain of their qualifications."

    "It may be inferred, then, that the wealthier classes of Canada in
    those days had much the same advantages of culture as their friends in
    England. Intercourse with the mother country was much more general and
    frequent than might be imagined, and, no doubt, many young gentlemen,
    after a preliminary training at a colonial academy, were sent home to
    enter some of the English public schools or universities. From the
    higher ranks downwards education varied till it reached the 'masses,'
    with whom its index was a cipher. There is no reason to suppose,
    however, that the population of Canada, taken as a whole, was less
    cultivated during the last forty years of the eighteenth century than
    that of any European nation during the same period. From the
    consideration of education, one naturally passes to that of crime.
    Thefts were frequent, and sometimes committed on a large scale. The
    punishment was whipping at a cart-tail through the streets of the
    city--the culprits themselves being whipped and whipsters in turn.
    Assault, stealing in private houses, and highway robbery were punished
    with death. The expiation for manslaughter was being branded in the
    hand which did the deed. Desertion was very frequent, especially among
    the Hessians and Brunswickers then stationed in Canada. In some cases
    they were promised pardon if they returned to their regiments, but woe
    to them if they returned against their will! Towards the end of the
    year 1783 'Gustavus Leight, a German doctor, confined for felony,
    broke out of His Majesty's jail at Quebec.' He was '25 years of age,
    about 5 feet high.' We are not told whether or not he was captured as
    the advertisement is continued to the end of the year, but if he did
    not change his dress he could not have succeeded in baffling very long
    the keen eye of a detective, for "he had on, when he made his escape,
    a brown coat, red plush waistcoat, white stockings and cock'd hat.' If
    such a gentleman made his appearance in the streets of any Canadian
    city to-day, he would certainly be requested to 'move on,' or asked to
    'explain his motives.' One thing is certain, that prisoners for felony
    in the year 1783 had not to submit to any arbitrary sumptuary
    arrangement--at least in the Quebec _gaol_ (as it is always spelled in
    the _Gazette_, perhaps because it is the goal of evildoers).

    "The general state of society in Montreal, as well as in Three Rivers,
    St. Johns, L'Assomption, Terrebonne, Sorel and the other towns and
    villages in existence at the period which we are considering was, in
    all probability, very like that of Quebec--the last-mentioned place
    having, of course, a certain prestige as the capital.

    "It would be futile to attempt to give an accurate picture of the
    appearance of Montreal or Quebec at that distant date, and a
    description pretending to accuracy would not be possible without the
    collation of more ancient records than are easily obtainable by one
    person. The names of some of the streets, as Notre Dame, St. Paul and
    St. Antoine in Montreal, and St. John's, Fabrique, St. Peter and
    others in Quebec, are still unchanged. Villages near these towns, such
    as Ste. Foye, Beauport, Charlesbourg, Sault aux Récollets, St. Denis,
    Ste. Thérèse, etc., are also frequently mentioned in the old
    _Gazettes_. Detroit and Niagara were places of considerable
    importance, and St. Johns, Chambly, Berthier, L'Assomption, L'Acadie
    and other places were much more influential communities in comparison
    with the population of the country than they are to-day. The
    authorities at Quebec and Montreal were not wanting in endeavors to
    keep these cities clean, to judge, at least, by the published
    'regulations for the police.' Every householder was obliged to put the
    Scotch proverbs in force, and keep clean and 'free from filth, mud,
    dirt, rubbish straw or hay' one-half of the street opposite his own
    house The 'cleanings' were to be deposited on the beach, as they still
    are in portions of Montreal and Quebec which border on the river.
    Treasure-trove in the shape of stray hogs could be kept by the finder
    twenty-four hours after the event, if no claim had been made in the
    meantime, and if the owner declared himself in person or through the
    bellman, he had to pay 10s. before he could have his pork restored.
    Five shillings was the penalty for a stray horse. The regulations for
    vehicles, slaughter-houses, sidewalks, markets, etc., were equally
    strict. Among other duties, the carters had to keep the markets clean.
    The keepers of taverns, inns and coffee-houses had to light the
    streets. Every one entering the town in a sleigh had to carry a shovel
    with him for the purpose of levelling _cahots_ which interrupted
    his progress, 'at any distance within three leagues of the town.' The
    rates of cabs and ferry-boats are fixed with much precision. No carter
    was allowed to plead a prior engagement, but was to go 'with the
    person who first demanded him, under a penalty of twenty shillings.'
    The rate of speed was also regulated, and boys were not allowed to
    drive.

    "Constant reference is made to the walls and gates of Montreal as well
    as Quebec, and there is reason to believe the smaller towns were
    similarly fortified. Beyond the walls, however, there was a
    considerable population, and many of the military officers, Government
    officials and merchants had villas without the city. The area in
    Montreal which lies between Craig, St. Antoine and Sherbrooke streets
    was studded with country-houses with large gardens and orchards
    attached. The seigneurs and other gentry had also fine, capacious
    stone-built residences, which much enhanced the charm of the rural
    scenery. Some of the estates of those days were of almost immense
    extent. The Kings of France thought nothing of granting a whole
    province, and, even in British times, there were gentlemen whose acres
    would have superimposed an English county. The extraordinary donation
    of James I. of a large portion of North America to Sir William
    Alexander was not long since brought before the public by the claims
    of his descendants. Large tracts of land were given away by Louis
    XIII., Louis XIV. and other French kings, by Oliver Cromwell and the
    Stuarts, and the same extravagant system of entailing unmanageable
    wealth on companies and individuals was continued after the conquest.

    "It would be interesting to know what was the kind of literary fare on
    which the intellect of Canada subsisted in those days. It cannot be
    supposed that the people spent all their time in business and social
    pleasure. There must have been readers as well as cariolers and
    dancers, and the literature of England and France was by no means
    scanty. Great writers on every subject have flourished since that
    time, but some of the greatest that ever lived, some of those whose
    productions are still read with the highest pleasure, were the
    offspring of the two centuries which preceded the conquest. No one
    will be surprised to find, then, that in the year 1783, a circulating
    library in Quebec numbered nearly 2,000 volumes. Nor is the enquirer
    left in the dark as to its probable contents. In the Quebec
    _Gazette_ of the 4th of December, a list of books is given which
    'remained unsold at M. Jacques Perrault's, very elegantly bound'--and
    books were bound substantially as well as elegantly in those days. In
    this list are found 'Johnson's Dictionary,' then regarded as one of
    the wonders of the literary world, 'Chesterfield's Letters,' long the
    _vade-mecum_ of every young gentleman beginning life, and which,
    even in our own days (and perhaps still), were frequently bound along
    with spelling and reading books, the 'Pilgrim's Progress', which it is
    not necessary to characterize, Young's 'Night Thoughts,' the
    'Spectator and 'Guardian,' Rapin's 'English History,' 'Cook's
    Voyages,' Rousseau's 'Eloise,' 'Télémaque,' 'Histoire Chinoise,'
    'Esprit des Croissades,' 'Lettres de Fernand Cortes,' 'Histoire
    Ancienne' par Rollin, 'Grammaire Anglaise et Française,'
    'Dictionnaire par l'Académie,' 'Dictionnaire de Commerce,' 'Dictionary
    of the Arts and Sciences,' 'Smith's Housewife,' 'The Devil on Sticks,'
    'Voltaire's Essay on Universal History,' 'Dictionnaire de Cuisine' and
    several others on various subjects, 'Oeuvres de Rabelais,' 'American
    Gazetteer,' etc. These, it will be remembered, had remained unsold,
    but among the sold there must have been copies of the same.

    "It is, according to our notions of to-day, a meagre collection, but,
    no doubt, many families possessed good libraries, brought with them
    from over the sea, and the bookseller may not have kept a large stock
    at one time. It was the custom for merchants to sell off all their
    overlying goods before they went or sent to Europe for a
    reinforcement.

    "The following books were advertised as 'missing:'--Langhorn's
    Plutarch, 1st vol., Thomson's Works, 4th vol., Gordon's 'Universal
    Accountant,' 1st vol.; and Gray's Hudibras, 2nd vol. For each one of
    them there is offered a reward of _two dollars_! Reading was expensive
    recreation in those times.

    "The reader, perhaps, has seen, or, it may be, possesses one of those
    old libraries, of which the general public occasionally have a glimpse
    at auction rooms, composed of standard authors, and beautifully and
    solidly bound, which had adorned the studies of the fathers of our
    country. They contain all that was best in the French and English
    literature of the last century--history, poetry, divinity, _belles
    lettres_, science and art. From these may be gathered what were the
    tastes, the culture and the thought of the Canadians of the last
    century.

    "Music and painting were cultivated--the former being, as now, a
    necessary part of female education. Of a festival given by the young
    ladies of a place called _La Côte_, near Quebec, in 1764, it is
    promised in the programme that "the orchestra and symphony will be
    composed of instruments of all kinds." It may interest some ladies to
    know that among the dances at the same entertainment are mentioned
    'l'Harlequinade,' 'La Chinoise,' and 'La Matelote Hollandaise'--some
    relation, perhaps, to the 'Sailor's Hornpipe.'

    "The settlement in Canada of the United Empire Loyalists, after the
    peace of September, 1783, by which the independence of the revolted
    colonies was recognized, must have had a considerable influence on
    Canadian society, and more than atoned for sufferings inflicted on the
    colony during the progress of the war. Repeated efforts had been made
    by the Americans to engage the affections of the Canadians. Among
    those whom Congress had appointed commissioners to treat with the
    Canadian people on this subject was the renowned Dr. Benjamin
    Franklin, whose visit to this country was not the most successful
    portion of his career. Although in some instances there was a
    manifestation of disaffection to the British Government, the great
    bulk of the population remained unmistakably loyal. In the Quebec
    _Gazette_ of October 23rd, 1783, is found the Act of Parliament
    passed in favour of the Loyalists, in which the 25th day of March,
    1784, is fixed as the limit of the period during which claims for
    relief or compensation for the loss of property should be received.
    How many availed themselves of the provisions of this act it is not
    easy to say, but the whole number of persons dispossessed of their
    estates and forced to seek another home in consequence of their
    continued allegiance, is set down at from 25,000 to 30,000. Of these,
    the great majority took up their abodes in the Canadas, New Brunswick
    and Nova Scotia, while a few went to the West Indies, and others
    returned to England. The biographies of some of these Loyalist
    settlers in British North America would be full of interest and
    instruction. But records of family movements and vicissitudes are very
    rarely kept--most rarely in those cases in which adventures are most
    frequent and the course of events most changeful. I have, however,
    seen accounts of the early settlements in the Eastern Townships, P.
    Q., and in different portions of Ontario, which were full of the
    romance of faith, of courage, and of perseverance."


THE ST. LOUIS HOTEL

A sketch of this fashionable thoroughfare--St. Louis street--the
headquarters of the judiciary, barristers, politicians, etc., would be
incomplete without a mention of the chief trysting-place of travellers and
tourists for the last thirty years--the leading hostelry of Quebec. St.
Louis Hotel is made up of two or more private dwellings joined together.
That on the corner of Haldimand and St. Louis streets formerly was owned
as a residence by the late Edward Burroughs, Esq., P. S. C. Next to it
stood, in 1837, Schluep's Hotel--the Globe Hotel--kept by a German, and
where the military swells in 1837-8-9 and our jolly curlers used to have
_recherché_ dinners or their frugal "beef and greens" and fixings. In
1848, Mr. Burroughs' house was rented to one Robert Bambrick, who
subsequently opened a second-class hotel at the corner of Ste. Anne and
Garden streets, on the spot on which the Queen's printer, the late Mr.
George Desbarats, built a stately office for the printing of the _Canada
Gazette_--subsequently sold on the removal of the Government to Ottawa
--now the Russell House. The _Globe_ Hotel belonged to the late B. C.
A. Gugy, Esq. It was purchased by the late Messrs Lelièvre & Angers,
barristers, connected with two or three adjacent tenements, and rented,
about 1852, to Messrs. Azro and Willis Russell (represented now by the
Russell Hotel Company) for the St. Louis Hotel. Connected by a door
through the wall with the Music Hall, it is a notable landmark in St.
Louis street and an object of considerable interest to city cabmen as
well, during the season of tourists. Its dining saloon, on the second
flow, has witnessed many bountiful repasts, to celebrate social, military,
political or literary events, none better remembered than that of the 17th
of November, 1880, when the _élite_ of Quebec crowded in unusual numbers--
about one hundred and eighty citizens, English and French--to do honour,
by a public banquet, to the laureate of the French Academy, M. Louis
Honoré Fréchette, [30] to celebrate his receiving in August last, in
Paris, from the _Académie Française_, the unprecedented distinction, for a
colonist, of the _Grand Prix Monthyon_ (2,000 livres) for the excellence
of his poetry.

Subjoined will be found the names of some of those present, also, extracts
from a few of the addresses delivered. We regret much that want of space
precludes us from adding more of the eloquent speeches delivered, because
they throw light for English readers on the high degree of culture French
literature has attained at Quebec. All, we are sure, will rejoice with us
that, for the cause of letters, M. Fréchette was timely rescued from the
quagmire of political warfare and hustings promises.

    _THE FRÉCHETTE DINNER, NOVEMBER 17, 1880._

    "Mr. L. H. Fréchette, the laureate of the French Academy, was last
    night the recipient of marks of honor and esteem, in the shape of a
    magnificent banquet given him at the St. Louis Hotel, by the citizens
    of Quebec and vicinity. The tables were laid in the large dining hall
    of the St. Louis Hotel, which was handsomely decorated for the
    occasion. The walls were partially covered with French and English
    flags, and wreaths of evergreen surrounded all the windows. Behind the
    Chairman, on a bracket, was an excellent bust of the Canadian poet,
    having on either side paintings of scenes in Mr. Fréchette's drama,
    'Papineau,' by Mr. E. W. Sewell, Levis.

    "Over 125 gentlemen sat down to the banquet, amongs-whom we noticed--
    The Honorable Judge Henri T. Taschereau, M. Lefaivre, Consul of
    France, Count de Premio-Real, Consul-General of Spain, the Baron
    Bols, Consul-General of Belgium, Major Wasson, Consul of the United
    States, M. Thors, Hon. W. Laurier, Hon. I. Thibaudeau, Hon. C. A. P.
    Pelletier, C.M.G. Hon. D. A. Ross, M.P.P., Achille Larue, N.P.,
    Charles Langelier, M.P.P., Hon. H. G. Joly, M.P.P., Hon. F. Langelier,
    M.P.P., Hon. Arthur Turcotte, Speaker of the Assembly, Dr. Rinfret,
    M.P.P, P. B. Casgrain, N.P., James Dunbar, Esq., Q.C., Nazaire
    Turcotte, Dr. Colin Sewell, Oscar Dunn, C. Antil, B. Bédard, G. T.
    Davie, G. Paré, Henri Delagrave, W. E. Brunet, E. W Sewell, F. X.
    Lemieux, Faucher de St. Maurice, F. M. Dechêne, G. E. T. Rinfret, O.
    L. Richardson, Louis Bilodeau, Oscar Lanctôt, N. Levasseur, George
    Stewart, jr., Edward Thomas, D. Chambers, F. G. Gautier, Paul de
    Cazes, R. J. Bradley, D. J. Montambault, T. Godfroy Papineau, N.P.,
    Montreal, De La Broquerie Taché, C. Massiah, James M. LeMoine,
    President Literary and Historical Society, W. J. Wyatt, Alphonse
    Pouliot, Dr. L. LaRue, Colonel Rhodes, Dr. Pourtier, C. Duquet, V.
    Bélanger, Charles Langlois, W. C. Languedoc, Alfred White, Peter
    McEwan, George Henry Powell, A. P. Beaulieu, Alfred Lemieux, Elie
    Lachance, Richard L. Suffur, Lieut.-Col. Turnbull, H. M. Price, R. St.
    B. Young, G. R. White, Captain Gzowski, J. U. Laird, Chariot,
    Fitzpatrick, E. Swindell, E. J. Hale, Cecil Fraser, Aug. Stuart, C. V.
    M. Temple, Timolaus Beaulieu, C. S. Beaulieu, N. Laforce, George
    Bouchard, L. N. Carrier, J. B. Michaud, Dr. Lamontagne. Dr. Collet,
    Arthur Lavigne, P. Boutin, M.P.P., F. Fortier, G. Bresse, J. S. C.
    Wurtele, M.P.P., P. E. Godbout, Paul Dumas, Lieutenant Drury, Captain
    Wilson, H. G. Sheppard, J. B. Charleson, Dr. Hubert LaRue, H. J. J. B.
    Chouinard, Président de l'Institut Canadien, H. J. Beemer, J. L.
    Renaud, E. W. Méthot, E. C. E. Gauthier, O. Leger, J. E. Pouliot, D.
    R. Barry, L. P. Lemay, Jacques Auger, Ernest Pacaud, J. Allaire, M.P.,
    T. G. Tremblay, M.P., J. J. Gahan, Joseph Blondeau, Thomas Potvin, J.
    B. Z. Dubeau, Frs. Bertrand, J. C. Hamel, Emile Jacot, John Buchanan,
    Antoine Carrier, William Breakey.

    "The Chair was occupied by Hon. Judge H. T. Taschereau, having on his
    right the guest of the evening, L. H. Fréchette, the Count Premio-
    Real, Hon. C. A. P. Pelletier, Mr. Wasson, Hon. F. Langelier, M. Thors
    of Paris, &c., and on his left the Consul-General for France, Hon. Mr.
    Laurier, Mr. Bols, Hon. D. Ross, &c.

    "The banquet was given in the well-known excellent style of the
    Russell Hotel Company, which never leaves anything to be desired.
    After full justice had been done the good things provided for the
    occasion, silence was obtained, when the following resolution,
    presented to Mr. Fréchette by the Literary and Historical Society of
    Quebec, was read by the Secretary, Mr. Delagrave:--

    "At a monthly general meeting of the Literary and Historical Society,
    held on the 13th October last:

    "It was proposed by Commander Ashe, R.N., seconded by R. McLeod, Esq.,

    "That the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec has witnessed with
    the highest satisfaction the literary honours conferred in August
    last, by the _Académie Française_, on Monsieur Louis Honoré Fréchette,
    for the poetical excellence of his two poems, 'Les Fleurs Boréales'
    and 'Les Oiseaux de Neige.'

    "That the Academical crown, encircling the brow of a Canadian poet,
    ought to be as much prised by Canada as it must be dear to its gifted
    son, the Laureate of the French Academy.

    "That such a signal distinction conferred by the highest literary
    tribunal, whilst it exhibits in such a favourable light the
    intellectual vigour of the Province of Quebec, cannot be otherwise
    than a subject of legitimate pride to the Dominion of Canada.

    "That the President and Secretary of this Society be charged with the
    pleasant duty of conveying to Monsieur L. H. Fréchette the expression
    of the sentiments of admiration with which it views his literary
    success.

      (Signed,) J. M. LEMOINE, President
      ALEX. ROBERTSON, Secretary

      _Quebec_, 13th October, 1880.

    "The usual loyal toasts--the Queen and Governor-General--were given
    by the Chairman, and enthusiastically honoured.

    "The Chairman then proposed "France," the toast being received with
    the usual honours and responded to by M. Lefaivre, the Consul-General
    for France.

    "M. Lefaivre made an interesting speech, alluding to the past and
    present of France, to the communication between the France of the Old
    World and the _Nouvelle France_ of this Western hemisphere, dwelling
    upon the honours achieved by the guest of the evening in Paris, and
    contending that literature was the soul of a nation.

    "The Chairman, Hon. Mr. Justice H. Taschereau, then rose to propose
    the toast of the evening, being received with loud and prolonged
    cheering. He said,--

    "GENTLEMEN,--I have now the honour to propose the toast of the
    evening--the health of our distinguished fellow-countryman, our guest,
    Louis Honoré Fréchette, the poet of Canada, crowned by the Academy of
    France. You have heard, gentlemen, the loud hurrah of all Canada in
    honour of one of her children, and here, perhaps, I might cease
    speaking. Nothing that I might say could increase the glad strength of
    the general voice of the country, when the news arrived here that the
    grand arena of literature, the French Academy, an institution whose
    life is counted by centuries, and which is without equal in the world,
    that great interpreter and infallible judge of the difficulties, the
    beauties and the genius of the French language, had given one of its
    annual prizes, and perhaps the finest of all--the prize of poetry--to
    one of our countrymen. I could never fittingly express or depict the
    sentiments of pride and joy felt by all lovers of literature in this
    country--I may add of all good Canadians--when the news came from
    beyond the ocean, from that sacred France, mother of civilization;
    from fairy Paris, capital of the Muses, that Mr. Fréchette had been
    crowned! But, as Chairman of this happy reunion, at the risk of but
    faintly re-echoing the general sentiment, I must at least try to
    express my feelings in proposing this toast. The emotions which I feel
    are of a dual nature, that of friendship and of patriotism, and, as
    friendship is nearer to the heart, so I gave that feeling the first
    place. The speaker here referred to his collegiate days in the
    Seminary of Quebec, where he met Mr. Fréchette, and in preparing
    himself for the battle of life, had won the friendship of the Canadian
    poet. He alluded to Mr. Fréchette's first efforts in verse, and had
    judged his early attempts, and in referring to his (the Judge's) own
    literary works at the time, the speaker said that the line of Boileau
    might be applied to him,

      "'Pour lui, Phoebus est sourd et Pégase est rétif.'

    "At that time, Mr. Fréchette had not reached the heights of Helicon,
    nor attained the regions wherein the 'Boreal Flowers' are gathered and
    the 'Snow Birds' fly, but the little flowers he gathered in more
    modest fields had around them the perfume of genuine poetry, and the
    emerald, ruby and topaz of art already shone in the dainty plumage of
    his summer birds. Mr. Fréchette published in a small journal in
    manuscript, called _L'Echo_, of which Judge Taschereau was then
    editor in the Seminary, the first efforts of his muse. This souvenir
    of the past is now very precious to me, said the speaker, because it
    enables me to state that I was the first editor of our poet's works.
    Judge Taschereau further alluded to the time when, with Mr. Fréchette,
    he studied law, that dry study, and though the poet was thus devoted
    to the goddess Themis, he nevertheless found time to worship at the
    shrine of song. How could the poet do otherwise? His fame had already
    gone abroad. The journals of the country were already publishing his
    sonnets, odes and songs. His acrostics were sought after to grace the
    albums of fair ladies. Even the volunteers of Canada asked him for
    war-songs, which are happily more frequently heard in drawing-rooms
    than in camps. The young student did not possess himself. He was
    already the property of the country, and the Institutes of Justinian
    were put aside for the more pleasing task of framing idyllic pictures
    of poetic genius. In fact, Crémazie was almost forgotten, and the name
    of Fréchette was on every tongue. Mr. Taschereau tried to reclaim the
    poet to his legal duties, and give him the place of Mr. Faucher de St.
    Maurice in his office. Mr. Fréchette accepted the sinecure, but no
    sooner had he done so than Mr. Faucher returned, anxious, no doubt,
    for good and congenial company. Judge of my happiness, with Fréchette
    and Faucher in my office, and I their humble patron. I thought I would
    succeed in converting my friends, but in this I failed, for they led
    me on their own paths until I myself began to versify, and, instead of
    reading Pothier, read 'proofs' of verses. As it is, Mr. Fréchette did
    become a lawyer; but Mr. Faucher abandoned the pursuit--he retired
    from my office, lost forever to Themis, but safe to the cause of
    literature. The departure of my young friends saved me. I could never
    expect to win the applause of the French Academy, and thus, as I am
    enabled to preside at this banquet, I may be permitted to offer our
    guest a bouquet of friendship's flowers, gathered during twenty-five
    years, and I feel that its perfume will be agreeable to my
    distinguished friend. The life of Mr. Fréchette is written in the
    poetry and literature of this country. He has marched steadily onward
    from the day on which he wrote his _Loisirs_, until the grand
    moment when he stood the crowned victor in the Academy of France. We
    have known our guest as a lawyer, journalist and member of Parliament,
    and have always admired his wonderful faculties, ever ready as he was
    to promote the welfare of his friends. His large heart contributed to
    pave the way to success, for, undoubted though his talents are, his
    winning manners won for him an ever-growing popularity, and we may
    affirm that, if he had traducers, he had, on the other hand, a host of
    friends. Traducers always follow the wake of a literary man, and they
    resemble the creeping things which we suffer in our gardens, because
    their existence can lead to no effectual harm. I may have occupied
    your time at too great length in treating of Mr. Fréchette as a
    friend. Allow me now, however, for a few moments, to speak of his
    success from a patriotic point of view. As French-Canadians, we are
    proud of our Laureate, and happy to see him in our midst this evening.
    In crowning our distinguished poet, the French Academy has given a
    splendid recognition to Canadian literature in the great Republic of
    Letters. Our Laureate is a French-Canadian, but our fellow-citizens of
    British origin have joined with us in this manifestation of our joy,
    and through their press, as at such gatherings as this, they have
    spontaneously recognized his talent, thus showing their spirit of
    justice and their enlightened patriotism. Party politics have ceased
    their discordant cries to join unanimously in honoring our Laureate,
    and this is a spectacle of consolation to the country. No commentary
    is required on this expression of our joy. It is, in itself, the most
    eloquent of proofs that the citizens of Quebec, as well as those of
    Montreal, in giving this festival to Mr. Fréchette, have invited all
    Canadians, in the largest acceptation of the word, to do him honour.
    In concluding, as I know you are anxious to hear him address you this
    evening, permit me to make a comparison. One of the most distinguished
    of modern poets, Alfred de Musset, said in a moment of despair:--

      "J'ai perdu ma force, et ma vie,
      Et mes amis, et ma gaîté:
      J'ai perdu jusqu'à la fierté
      Qui faisait croire à mon génie."

    "'I have lost my strength and my life, my friends and my gayety,
    almost my very pride, which made me believe in my genius.' We may say
    to Mr. Fréchette, as an offset to this cry of despair from one of his
    elder poetic brethren: 'Courage! You have strength and life! More
    friends than ever! An enthusiasm of gayety which is fathomless! March
    on and sing! We are proud of you, and we believe in your genius,
    crowned, as it is, by the highest literary tribunal in the world--that
    of the Forty Immortals!' (Cheers.)

    "The utmost enthusiasm pervaded those present, and when the poet
    laureate rose to reply, he was greeted with loud applause, which
    continued for several minutes. Mr. Fréchette said:--

    "MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN,--For some time past I have abstained from
    public speaking, and there are those amongst my best friends who tell
    me that I have done well. To-day Montreal [31] and Quebec seem to have
    conspired against me, to oblige me to make two speeches on the same
    subject. This, though flattering to me, is hardly fair. If, having
    pleaded in one sense, I were asked to take the opposite ground, it
    might appear that such would not embarrass a lawyer, and one who has
    also been a politician, but in my present position I am called upon to
    treat the same question twice, and absolutely in the same sense. How
    can I discover something new to advance. Naturally, I felt embarrassed
    at the outset, but, at any risk, my duty is to respond to your
    flattering call, and thus to best avenge myself upon this conspiracy
    of my friends. It will not be surprising if I affirm that the occasion
    of this reunion has for me a character of especial solemnity. Seated
    at this festive board, I see the representatives of different nations,
    who, in private capacities also, have won general respect. I see,
    also, my fellow-citizens of Quebec and of Levis, my native town--the
    schoolmates of my earliest days--_confrères_ in professional
    life and in the walks of literature--comrades of past political
    struggles--friends, ever indulgent and generous--political leaders of
    whom I have always been proud, and gentlemen of various origins,
    divergent opinions and different religious beliefs, all tendering me
    their warmest congratulations upon the success I have achieved in the
    literary world. No words of mine are adequate to express my feelings,
    not can I sufficiently thank you all for this spontaneous and
    sympathetic demonstration in honour of one who regrets that he is not
    more worthy of your favour. I can only accept your evidences of
    friendship with cordial emotion, thank you from the depth of my heart
    and bear with me from this hall a proud memory which will unite with
    the remembrances of my youth, all of which are so intimately
    identified with the hospitable people of Quebec, and, in so declaring,
    I am but assuring you that this remembrance will ever attend upon me.
    The past vouches for this; for when my tent of exile shook in the
    winds from off the great Western lakes, or slept on the bowery shores
    of Louisianian streams; when my traveller's skiff was rocked on the
    waters of the Southern gulfs, or was reflected on the blue waves of
    the Loire; when I had before me the wild majesty of Niagara, the
    immensity of the ocean, or when, filled with admiration, I paused to
    gaze upon the stupendous monuments of the Old World, my thoughts ever
    instinctively flew back to the good old city of Champlain,
    unparalleled in the world for the picturesque splendor of its site,
    and the poetry which no less issues from the very stones of its
    fortress, than it lingers upon every page of its history. Yes! Old
    Quebec! In all places I have cherished with devotion every memory of
    you, for within your walls my heart first opened to the noble teaching
    of intellect! It is your lofty embrasures--your flag, bravely floating
    in the skies--your abrupt rock, your stretches of ramparts, your
    brilliant steeples, reflecting their beauty on the bosom of the St.
    Lawrence, mingled with the sails of your cosmopolitan navies; which,
    for the first time, awoke the poetic enthusiasm in my breast. Long ago
    I first saw these scenes from the window of an humble cottage of
    Levis, half-hidden in a screen of foliage; and in my youngest days,
    ere I knew the method or formation of a verse, I felt the fluttering
    against the cage of my heart of that golden bird, whose sonorous voice
    is styled Poetry. In fact, gentlemen, I was carried towards a literary
    career from the very outset, and in this connection you will permit me
    to relate a little anecdote. You will pardon me if I appear
    egotistical, but your cordial reception warrants me in looking for
    your indulgence. I had learned to read in a book full of reveries and
    sentiment, entitled 'Letters or the poet Gilbert to his sister.' Of
    course I understood but little of it, yet it made a deep impression on
    my imagination. One day my father, an honest man and good citizen, if
    there were ever any such, but who had nothing in common with the
    Muses, asked my brother and I what professions we would adopt when we
    grew big. 'For me,' replied my happy-hearted brother Edmond, 'I will
    be a carter,' and 'I will be a poet,' I immediately added. I still
    remember my father's smile of affectionate pity when he heard these
    unexpected declarations from the hopes of his declining years. "My
    poor children," said he, with a resigned air, "these two occupations
    will never lead you to wealth and fortune." Later I understood the
    wise reflection of my father, but no one carves out his own destiny
    and he must submit to fate. I have vainly tried other careers but
    finally was obliged to return to this dream of my infancy. As the poet
    says,

      "Drive away the natural, and it returns at full speed."

    Yes, dear old City of Quebec, so old and so glorious, so beautiful in
    your _ensemble_ and so characteristic in your details, so cordial
    and so hospitable, in presence of your noblest children assembled here
    to welcome me, within your old walls, let me give this testimony, that
    if I have had the happiness of causing the Canadian name to be heard
    in the immortal shrine of French literature it is to you I owe it, and
    to you is my gratitude offered. For I must tell you, gentlemen, that I
    loved Quebec too much, at the distance, not to hasten across the
    river, when the bird felt that his wings were strong enough to fly. At
    that time the greatest of the poets of Quebec, Octave Crémazie, sang
    the glories of our ancestors and the brave deeds of old France. His
    energetic and inspired voice excited youthful emulation. A group of
    budding writers surrounded him, but each one felt timid and hesitated
    to tune his notes amongst the loud echoes of his vigorous patriotism.
    Alas! the star fled from our skies, another generation of enthusiastic
    poets and writers disputed the honour of seizing the lyre, so heavy
    for their fingers, which had been left on the rock of Quebec, by the
    author of the Flag of Carillon. O! my old comrades, do you think as
    frequently as do I, of those old days, when with hearts full of poetic
    illusions, we united our talents, our hopes and I might add our
    poverty, to establish that spiritual association in which the
    beautiful was idolized, seekers as we were after the ideal, dealers in
    mental _bijouterie_, despised at first by some, but which
    succeeded more than once in directing the attention of literary France
    to our shores? Do you, at times, remember our joyful meetings, our
    interminable readings, our long hours of continued study and waking
    reveries in common--do you yet remember the bewildering evenings in
    which the glass of Henri Murger mingled its sonorous tinklings, bright
    and merry, to the love-song of our flowery youth? We were all rivals,
    but

      "Our hearts, as our lute, vibrated as one,"

    and God knows that this rivalry never severed the bonds of affection
    which united us, and so was founded what has since been styled the
    Mutual Admiration Society. Mutual Admiration Society! If we were to
    consider the number of books, dress-coats, gloves and other articles
    of more intimate character that were exchanged between us, it might
    more safely have been called the Society for Mutual Support. At all
    events, from the spectacle before me this evening I gather that this
    Society of Mutual Admiration, if admiration it must be termed, has
    taken a singular development since I had the honour of assisting so
    frequently at its meetings, and there is nothing surprising in this,
    since one of the most distinguished of the founders of this society,
    Mr. Faucher de St. Maurice, informed me the other day that the society
    in question was about to annex the French Academy. (Laughter.) But to
    be serious, allow me to recount another anecdote. There was a time,
    gentlemen, when our Mutual Admiration was far from being so ambitious
    as to dream of having a _succursale_ under the rotunda of the
    French Institute. But if our productions were meagre, our revenues
    were still more so, and famine often reigned in the chests of the
    confraternity. However we had our own days of abundance when there was
    corn in Egypt. The first Quebecer who understood that poetry, unlike
    perpetual motion, could not feed itself, was a brewer, whose memory is
    now legendary and who was known by the harmonious name of McCallum.
    Arthur Casgrain, who in a couple of years afterwards we sorrowfully
    bore to the cemetery, had thought of composing an Epic on the Grand
    Trunk. This was called "La grande Tronciade!" Well in one of the
    twelve parts of this production, so very original, there were three
    remarkable lines.

      "Buvons, buvons, amis, de ce bon maccallome,
      Venant directement du brasseur qu'il dénome!
      C'est ça qui vous retape et vous refait un homme?"

    The effect was magical. The heart of the brewer was touched. A long
    waggon on which we could read the eloquent words "pale ale and porter"
    stopped next day before our door. For twenty minutes a man with
    burthened step climbed the Jacob's ladder which led to the poet's
    attic, and one hundred and forty-four bottles of inviting appearance
    ranged themselves around the chamber. I cannot picture the joy of the
    happy recipient. In his enthusiasm he offered me a community in his
    good fortune--of course under a pledge of inviolable secrecy. But as I
    felt the imperious necessity of communicating my emotions I was as
    wanting in discretion as he had been, and that evening all the
    Bohemians, students and literary friends even to the remotest degree
    followed in the wake of McCallum's bottles, and invaded the attic
    chamber of poor Arthur (your good-natured cousin, Mr. President.)
    There we had French, English, Latin and Greek speeches in prose and in
    verse. Arsène Michaud has even prepared a story for the occasion. In
    brief, the hecatomb was made; the libation was Olympic, the twelve
    dozen disappeared and on the morrow poor Casgrain showed me with a sad
    face the Homeric remains of his one day's wealth, and in a lamentable
    tone of despair he exclaimed: "I will have to write another poem."
    Gentlemen, that was the first time in Canada that poetry made a return
    to its author, and in tasting these delicate viands which the
    hospitable city of Quebec now offers to one of those early Bohemians
    in recognition of his literary success, I could not fail to recollect
    with emotion this amusing circumstance now enveloped, with other
    scenes of youth, sometimes glad--sometimes sorrowful, in the shadowy
    robe of past recollections. Another story just suggests itself to my
    mind. Lusignan and I occupied the attic of an old house in Palace
    street. Our room was heated by a stove-pipe, which reached from the
    lower apartments. One day I had published in _Le Canadien_--_Tempora
    Mutantur_--a little poem in which was the following line:

      "Shivering in my attic poor."

    The next day a surprise awaited us. A dumb stove had replaced the mere
    stove-pipe, and while holding our sides from laughter we heard this
    speech: "Gentlemen, we are very indulgent, considering your noisy
    meetings--we are not very particular when rent-day arrives--and if you
    _so shivered_ in your room, it would have been better to have
    said so privately, than to have complained of it in the newspapers."
    (Laughter.) Poor Mrs. Tessier, our landlady--she was not well
    acquainted with figures of speech, but she has been the Providence of
    many of the destitute, and more than one who hears me now can say as I
    do, that no better or more obliging heart ever beat in a more pitiful
    bosom towards purseless youth. And who knows, it is perhaps due to
    this sympathetic feeling of its population towards literary men and
    writers that this city of Quebec has seen such an array of talent
    within her bosom, such a succession of Pleiades of distinguished
    litterateurs, who have glorified her name and that of their country.
    For the last fifty years, men eminent in all branches of literature
    have made a gorgeous and resplendent aureole around the city of
    Quebec. In the generation immediately preceding us, we see Petitclerc,
    Parent, Soulard, Chauveau, Garneau, L'Ecuyer, Ferland, Barthe and Réal
    Angers, these grand pioneers of intellect, who in history, poetry,
    drama and romance, made such a wide opening for the generation which
    followed them. Then we have l'Abbé Laverdière, l'Abbé Casgrain,
    LeMoine, Fiset, Taché, Plamondon, LaRue, and the first among all
    Octave Crémazie, who coming at different times bravely and constantly
    continued the labours of their predecessors, until we reach the
    brilliant phalanx of contemporary writers, Lemay, Fabre, l'Abbé Begin,
    Routhier, Oscar Dunn, Faucher de St. Maurice, Buies, Marmette and
    Legendre, all charged with the glorious task of preserving for Quebec
    her legitimate title of the Athens of Canada. And how could it be
    otherwise? Is not Quebec the cradle of our nationality--the spot
    whereon is engraved the most illustrious pages of our history--heroic
    annals, touching souvenirs, all combining with the marvels of nature
    to speak here the soul of the historian and of the poet. What a
    flourishing field for the historian and poet is not the tale of that
    handful of Breton heroes, who, three centuries ago, planted on the
    rock of Quebec the flag of Christianity and civilization! What
    innumerable sources of inspiration can we not find in our majestic
    river, our gigantic lakes, our grand cascades, our lofty mountains,
    our impenetrable forests and in all that grand and wild nature, which
    will ever be the characteristic feature of our dear Canada. Oh! our
    history, gentlemen! Oh, the picturesque beauties of our country! Two
    marvellous veins--two mines of precious material open at our feet. The
    European writers are ever striving to discover something fresh. Having
    exhausted all kinds of themes, they are now stooping to the dust to
    find an originality which seems to fly from them. Well, this
    freshness, this originality, so courted and so rare now-a-days, may be
    found within our grasp,--it is there in our historical archives--in
    our patriarchal customs--in the many characters of a people young and
    thirsting for independence--a robust and healthy poetry, floats on our
    breezes--breathes in our popular songs--sings in the echoes of our
    wild forests, and opens graceful and proud her white wings to the
    winds of the free aspirations of the new world. To us this virgin
    field belongs, gentlemen! Take from Europe her form and experience,
    but leave to her, her old Muses. Let us be true to ourselves! Be
    Canadians and the future is ours. "That which strikes us most in your
    poems" said a member of the French Academy to me, "is that the modern
    style, the Parisian style of your verses is united to something
    strange, so particular and singular--it seems an exotic, disengaged
    from the entire." This perfume of originality which this writer
    discovered in my writings was then unknown to myself. What was it? It
    was the secret of their nationality,--the certificate of their origin,
    their Canadian stamp! And it is important for us, gentlemen, never to
    allow this character to disappear. Let our young writers stamp it
    broadly on their pages and then advance to their task, they need no
    longer fear the thorns on the way. The path is wide open and millions
    of readers await their efforts. To the work then; France offers us her
    hand, and now that we have renewed the bonds between us and our
    illustrious and well-beloved mother country--bonds broken by the
    vicissitudes which occur in the life of peoples, we shall be enabled
    once more to prove the great truth enunciated by Bulwer Lytton in
    "_Richelieu_," that

      "The pen is mightier than the sword."

    The Chairman called upon Hon. Wilfred Laurier to propose the next
    toast.

    Hon. Mr. Laurier, on being called on to propose the toast of the
    Academy of France, was loudly cheered on rising, and the enthusiasm
    became the greater as he advanced, showing the many claims the great
    French tribunal of letters had upon the attention of the learned word.
    He spoke of the old ties which bound France and Canada, and alluded to
    the argument of Doucet, the French Academician, in favour of the
    admission of Fréchette to the French _concours_, viz., that when
    France was in the throes of agony, the voice of French Canada spoke
    out its loud attachment to the cause of the ancient mother country. In
    such action was the forgotten daughter restored to its sorrowing
    mother. The hon. gentleman then in language of forcible eloquence
    referred to the pleasure shown by English-Canadians at the success of
    Mr. Fréchette, and concluded a highly intellectual and eloquent
    speech, amidst the reiterated cheers of the whole assemblage.

    The Chairman then proposed the toast of English and French literature.

    Mr. George Stewart, jr., who on rising was greeted with cheers,
    said:--

    MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN:--I must thank you for the very
    enthusiastic manner in which you have just drank to this toast, and
    for the cordiality with which you have been good enough to receive my
    name. Before asking you to consider with me the subject which has just
    been so happily proposed from the chair, I would ask your permission
    to say how gratified I am at being present, this evening, to assist
    you in paying homage to one whom we all delight to honour, and at
    whose feet it is our special privilege to sit. (Cheers.) It is all of
    seventeen years since Mr. Fréchette gave to the public, in a little
    book, the best fruits of his youthful muse, but those early efforts of
    his mind gave abundant promise of future excellence and hope,--a
    promise which has since been admirably and delightfully fulfilled. I
    cannot tell you how proud we all feel,--we who speak the English
    tongue, alike with you who utter the liquid and mellow language of
    Béranger and De Musset,--that the "Forty Immortals" of Mother France,
    recognized in Mr. Fréchette,--what all of us knew before,--that he was
    a tender and graceful poet, and that his work is as pure and sweet as
    anything to be found in the lyric poetry of our time. (Cheers.) Mr.
    Fréchette had not to go abroad to find that out, but it is pleasing to
    us all to find our opinions confirmed and ratified by the highest
    authority in France. I again thank you, gentlemen, for the privilege
    which you have afforded me of saying these few words regarding our
    laurel-crowned poet and guest. (Applause.) With regard to the subject
    which has brought me to my feet, what am I to say? I might dilate upon
    the beauties of Chaucer's _Canterbury Tales_, or Edmund Spenser's
    immortal _Faerie Queene_, or Shakespeare's tender women, the
    _Juliet_ we love, the Rosalind who is ever in our hearts, the
    Beatrice, the Imogen, gentle Ophelia, or kindly but ill-starred
    Desdemona, or the great heroes of tragedy, Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet or
    Othello, or I might ask you to hear a word about Ben Jonson, "rare
    Ben," or poor Philip Massinger who died a stranger, of the Puritan
    Milton, the great Catholic Dryden, or Swift, or Bunyan, Defoe,
    Addison, Pope and Burke and grim Sam Johnson who made the dictionary
    and wrote Rasselas, the Prince of Abyssinia, but there is not time for
    us to go into the subject as minutely as that. At a dinner of this
    kind, which is so rich in every delicacy which the most sensitive
    palate could desire, and which boasts wines as delicate and as
    fragrant in bouquet as one of Mr. Fréchette's sonnets--(Cheers)--and I
    might add also as one of my friend LeMay's hopefullest lyrics--
    (Cheers), it would be ungenerous of me to keep you very long. I will
    content myself therefore with a remark or two regarding the peculiar
    features which seem to inspire our literature, at the present time,
    and by our literature I mean English literature in its broadest sense
    and amplest significance. Perhaps at no period of letters, in the
    whole history of literature from the days of Chaucer and Raleigh, from
    the renaissance, through the classic period, to more modern times, to
    our own day in fact, has the cultured world seen such a brilliant
    array of brilliant men and women, who write the English prose which
    delights our fire-sides, and enriches our minds at the present time.
    The world has never presented to mankind before, in all its years of
    usefulness, such a galaxy of great essayists and novelists as we have
    enjoyed and enjoy now, within a period of fifty or sixty years, and
    which properly belong to our own age. The era is rich in stalwart
    minds, in magnificent thinkers, in splendid souls. Carlyle, Emerson,
    Wilson, Morley, Froude, Holmes, Harrison, Darwin, Huxley, Spencer,
    Mill, Buckle, Lewes. In fiction the list is too long for mention, but,
    in passing, I may note George Eliot--a woman who writes as if her soul
    had wings, William Black who paints almost as deftly as Walter Scott,
    Thomas Hardy, Anthony Trollope, Thackeray, Dickens, Reade, William
    Howells, who has not forgotten to write of the grandeur of the
    Saguenay, and William Kirby whose _Chien d'Or_ will serve to keep
    a memory green in many a Quebecer's heart. I need hardly name more.
    The list could, I am well aware, be extended indefinitely, and as each
    of you doubtless has your favourite novelist, I need not waste your
    time by the simple enumeration of men and women who have from time to
    time, beguiled away the hours with their stories of the heart, or of
    purpose, or of endeavour. We get _blasé_ now and then perhaps
    through the reading of so many moderns, but the cure for that lies
    within easy range. We can take a peep at those old fellows in old-
    fashioned bindings, who used to delight our grandfathers in the "brave
    days of old," when Richardson told the story of "Pamela," and
    "Clarissa Harlowe," when Fielding wrote "Tom Jones," and Smollett
    narrated the history of "Humphrey Clinker," and the career of
    "Tristram Shandy" found a truthful historian in that mad parson
    Lawrence Sterne. We might even read those ancient authors, ancient in
    style at least, for a change, and still be reading English literature
    in its truest and widest sense. But it is less with the fiction-
    writers that we have to deal, than with the thinkers who have given to
    _belles-lettres_ in this age, its robustness and vigour. In
    political economy, in scientific thought, in history, in moral
    philosophy and in polite learning, and in criticism, I think our day
    has produced the greatest teachers, as well as the largest number of
    them since the English tongue had a literature of its own. (Applause.)
    This is true at least in prose writing. I know that in poetry we are
    surpassed in grandeur and majesty by the bards of other periods of our
    mental activity, I know that we have not produced a Milton yet, nor a
    Dryden, nor a Pope--I leave Shakespeare and Chaucer out of the
    question, nor a Spenser. We have very many more than our share of
    really tuneful singers and fine poets like Tennyson and Longfellow,
    Morris and Swinburne, the Arnolds and Lowell--all of them sweet and in
    every way charming, none of them grand and magnificent like the sons
    of song of the great days of poesy. We have singers and singers, minor
    poets and minor poets, all engaged in weaving for our delight very
    many pretty fancies; graceful story-tellers in verse, if you will, but
    our chief strength lies in prose, sober, scholarly and healthful
    prose. Our fame will rest on that branch of the service. (Applause.)
    Turning to Canada, I might say that our mental outfit is by no means
    beggarly. In fiction we have produced, and I confine myself
    particularly to those who have written in English, Judge Haliburton,
    James DeMille, Wm. Kirby, John Lesperance. (Applause.) In poetry,
    Heavysege, John Reade, Roberts, Charles Sangster, Wm. Murdoch,
    Chandler, Howe; in history, Beamish Murdoch, Todd, Morgan, Hannay, Mr.
    LeMoine--(Applause)--whom I see present here to night; Dr. Miles, Mr.
    Harper, the efficient Rector of our High School, and others of more or
    less repute. In Science, Dr. Dawson and Sir Wm. Logan; in logic, Wm.
    Lyall; in rhetoric, James DeMille. In political and essay writing we
    have a good list, the most prominent names being Goldwin Smith, whom
    we may fairly claim, Bourinot, Haliburton, Todd, Howe, Elder, Ellis,
    Griffin, Anglin, Dymond, McDougall, White. (Cheers.) And here I would
    just say to you--for I have spoken longer than I intended--over-taxed
    your patience I fear very much--that we must, if we would ever become
    great in helping to form current thought and the intellectual movement
    of the day, renounce all sectionalism in letters, and go in for the
    great goal which all may aspire to who wish. When the French Academy
    hailed our friend Fréchette as a brother poet, the act was not done
    because he was a Canadian, but because he was a poet, writing and
    speaking the French tongue. (Applause.) There is no such thing really
    as Canadian literature or American literature. It is all English
    literature, and we should all strive to add to the glory of that
    literature. We can do it, in our way, as well as Moore and Lover and
    Lever and Carleton and McGee did, when they added the splendid work of
    their genius to build up the renown and prestige of the parent stock.
    (Applause.) As Scott and Burns, Dunbar and Hector McNeill, and
    Tannahill and James Hogg and bluff "Kit North;" all of Scotland, did
    to make the English literature massive and spirited and grand.
    (Applause.) As Hawthorne and Longfellow, Holmes and Bryant, Cooper and
    Irving, and Motley did, and as our own John Reade (cheers) and Charles
    Roberts, a new poet whose star has just arisen, and Bourinot--
    (cheers)--and the rest of them are doing now. We must forget the small
    localism which can do us no good, and join the great brotherhood of
    letters which writes the world over, in the English tongue. France,
    Germany and Russia, Italy and Spain teem with the grand work of their
    children. We who speak and write in the English language must not be
    unmindful of our several duties. We must work for the attainment of
    the great end, the development of English literature, of which we are
    as truly a part as the authors of the United States, of Scotland, of
    Ireland and of England. English literature does not mean simply a
    literature written solely by Englishmen. It takes its name from the
    fact that it draws its nourishment from all writers who write in
    English, and Scotchmen, Irishmen, Americans, and colonists, as well as
    citizens of England are invited to add to its greatness and
    permanency. I thank you Mr. Chairman and you gentlemen for your
    kindness and forbearance in listening to me so long, and so patiently.
    (Loud continued cheering.)

    Mr. Lemay, in replying for French literature, said--It is particularly
    agreeable to be called on to speak on this occasion because it affords
    me the opportunity to render to our host an evidence of the admiration
    and friendship which I bear towards him this evening. It is now over
    twenty years since we were together at College, and the same tastes
    which pleased us then govern us now. The same destiny which led us
    towards the bar guided us also on the paths of literature. The speaker
    here improvised a magnificent address to the genius of French-Canadian
    letters. He alluded to the first pages of Canadian history written in
    the blood of martyrs, thus giving to the Canadian people a literature
    of heroes. The speaker then traced the changeful epochs from the days
    of the soldiers of the sword to the warriors of the pen, and he drew
    forth loud applause as he alluded to the brave polemists who traced
    their literary endeavors in the brave work of defending their country
    and redeeming its liberties. In quoting Sir Geo. Cartier's well known
    line, "O Canada, my country and my love," ("O Canada, mon pays, mes
    amours,") the eloquent orator elicited the warm and hearty applause of
    the assemblage. From the troublous days of 1837 to the present moment,
    Mr. Lemay reviewed the various efforts at literary renown of the
    French Canadian people, and concluded one of the finest speeches of
    the evening amidst the tumultuous applause of his sympathising
    auditors.

    The next toast was that of the Literary and Historical Society and of
    the _Institut Canadien_ of Quebec.

    Mr. J. M. LeMoine, in replying to the first part of the toast said:--

    GENTLEMEN,--In the name of the Literary and Historical Society of
    Quebec, I thank you cordially for the health just proposed--As the
    President of a society numbering close on 400 members, who though
    diverse in creed and language, are united for one common object--the
    promotion of culture and science and the encouragement of historical
    studies,--I cannot help feeling I stand here somehow in the character
    of a representative man. In tendering a welcome to Mr. Fréchette, our
    honoured guest, I can add but little to the sentiments conveyed in the
    resolution adopted at our last meeting and which you have heard read.
    In presence of so many distinguished persons, several of whom have
    made their mark, at the Bar--or on the Bench--the forum--in
    literature--in the bank parlor or in the counting house,--with so many
    fluent speakers here present and prepared to applaud, with all the
    graces of oratory and fervour of patriotism,--the distinction
    conferred on French Canada, by the highest literary tribunal in
    France--convinced myself of the honour which Mr. Fréchette's laurels
    must confer on this ancient and picturesque Province of Quebec, with
    its glorious though yet unrevealed destinies, I feel proud as a
    Canadian in standing here, the bearer even of a solitary rosebud for
    the fragrant _bouquet_, which a grateful country offers this
    night to its gifted child. Alas! had not the relentless hand [32] of
    death--had not a self-imposed fate, darker even than death, removed
    from our midst, another "mind pregnant with celestial fire," Canada
    this night might possibly have counted two laurel-crowned poets--Louis
    Honoré Fréchette and Octave Crémazie. For I am not one of those who
    refuse to recognize Canadian talent; on the contrary, I feel myself
    moved to rejoice in our wealth of intellect. I am reminded to be
    brief; around me there is a surging stream of eloquence ready to burst
    through its floodgates. I must give way. With your permission, I shall
    therefore merely ask a question. What propitious turn of fortune?
    which of the benign fairies who watched over his natal hour has Mr.
    Fréchette to thank for his present success? How came it to pass that,
    though he was born a poet, he should have to undergo an ordeal like
    another great poet (whom posterity may specially claim as an
    historian) the author of the "Lays of Ancient Rome," of emancipating
    himself from his earthy--at one time not burdensome--thraldom before
    soaring on the wings of poesy to that lofty region, where his classic
    diction and lyric power attracted the attention of those worthy but
    fastidious gentlemen, yclept "The Forty Immortals of the French
    Academy." I have mentioned a very illustrious name in the Republic of
    Letters,--a name as dear to Britain as that of our Laureate ought to
    be to Canada--that of Macaulay--historian, essayist, poet. You all
    know how his parliamentary defeat as candidate for Edinburgh in 1847,
    rescued him forever from the "dismal swamp" of politics, providing his
    wondrous mind, with leisure to expand and mature, in the green fields
    of literature. If New France has not yet produced such a gorgeous
    genius as he, of whom all those who speak Chatham's tongue are so
    justly proud, it has however out of its sparse population of one
    million, put forth a representative whom Old France with its thirty-
    eight millions has deemed a fit subject to honour in an unmistakable
    way. Shall I tell you how, figuratively, if you should prefer, ended
    for Fréchette the "day of tumult"?

    That _Ignis Fatuus_, ambition, has allured, as you are aware,
    more than one youthful fowler to an uncertain swampy hunting ground,
    called "politics." Mr. Fréchette was one of the unfortunate. This game
    preserve, I pronounce "uncertain" because owing to several
    inexplicable eventualities sportsmen innumerable, therefrom return
    empty handed, whilst others, Mr. Chairman, make up, we know, pretty
    good bags. The Son of Apollo, whilst thus hunting one gruesome, windy
    morning, fortunately for us, sank in a boggy, yielding quicksand.
    Luckily he extricated himself in time, and on reaching the margin of
    the swamp, there stood an old pet of his tethered as if waiting for
    its loved rider, a vigorous Norman or Percheron steed. Our friend
    bestrode him, cantered off, and never drew rein until he stood,
    panting perhaps, but a winner in the race, on the top of a mount,
    distant and of access arduous, called Parnassus.

    In conclusion, Mr. LeMoine quoted the memorable lines from Macaulay,
    written the night when his parliamentary defeat at Edinburgh, in 1847,
    restored him to letters:--

      The day of tumult, strife, defeat, was o'er,
      Worn out with toil, and noise, and scorn, and spleen,
      I slumbered and in slumber saw once more
      A room in an old mansion, long unseen.

      That room, methought, was curtained from the light;
      Yet through the curtains shone the moon's cold ray
      Full on a cradle, where, in linen white,
      Sleeping life's first sleep, an infant lay.

       *       *       *       *       *

      And lo! the fairy queens who rule our birth
      Drew nigh to speak the new-born baby's doom:
      With noiseless step, which left no trace on earth,
      From gloom they came, and vanished into gloom.

      Not deigning on the boy a glance to cast
      Swept careless by the gorgeous Queen of Gain.
      More scornful still, the Queen of Fashion passed,
      With mincing gait and sneer of cold disdain.

      The Queen of Power tossed high her jewelled head
      And o'er her shoulder threw a wrathful frown.
      The Queen of Pleasure on the pillow shed
      Scarce one stray rose-leaf from her fragrant crown.

      Still fay in long procession followed fay;
      And still the little couch remained unblest:
      But, when those wayward sprites had passed away,
      Came One, the last, the mightiest, and the best.

      Oh! glorious lady, with the eyes of light,
      And laurels clustering round thy lofty brow,
      Who by the cradle's side didst watch that night,
      Warbling a sweet strange music, who wast thou?

      "Yes, darling; let them go," so ran the strain:
      "Yes; let them go, gain, fashion, pleasure, power,
      And all the busy elves to whose domain
      Belongs the nether sphere, the fleeting hour.

      "Without one envious sigh, one anxious scheme,
      The nether sphere, the fleeting hour assign.
      Mine is the world of thought, the world of dream,
      Mine all the past, and all the future mine.

       *       *        *       *        *

      "Of the fair brotherhood who share my grace,
      I, from thy natal day, pronounce thee free;
      And, if for some I keep a nobler place,
      I keep for none a happier than for thee.

       *       *        *       *        *

      "No; when on restless night dawns cheerless morrow,
      When weary soul and wasting body pine,
      Thine am I still in danger, sickness, sorrow,
      In conflict, obloquy, want, exile, thine;

      "Thine where on mountain waves the snowbirds scream,
      Where more than Thule's winter barbs the breeze,
      Where scarce, through lowering clouds, one sickly gleam
      Lights the drear May-day of Antarctic seas;

       *       *        *       *        *

      "Amidst the din of all things fell and vile,
      Hate's yell, and envy's hiss, and folly's bray,
      Remember me!"


_FORT ST. LOUIS, CHÂTEAU ST. LOUIS, HALDIMAND CASTLE._

_CHÂTEAU ST. LOUIS._

In Professor Kalm's saunter round Quebec, his description of the public
edifices, in 1749, is worthy of note:

    "The Palace (Château Saint Louis) says he, is situated on the west or
    steepest side of the mountain, just, above the lower city. It is not
    properly a palace, but a large building of stone, two stories high,
    extending north and south. On the west side of it is a court-yard,
    surrounded partly with a wall, and partly with houses. On the east
    side, or towards the river, is a gallery as long as the whole
    building, and about two fathoms broad, paved with smooth flags, and
    included on the outside by iron rails, from whence the city and the
    river exhibit a charming prospect. This gallery serves as a very
    agreeable walk after dinner, and those who come to speak with the
    Governor-General wait here till he is at leisure. The palace is the
    lodging of the Governor-General of Canada, and a number of soldiers
    mount the guard before it, both at the gate and in the court-yard; and
    when the Governor, or the Bishop comes in or goes out, they must all
    appear in arms and beat the drum. The Governor-General has his own
    chapel where he hears prayers; however, he often goes to Mass at the
    church of the _Récollets_, which is very near the palace."

Such it seemed, in 1749, to the learned Swedish naturalist and philosopher
Peter Kalm. How many rainbow tints, poetry and romance can lend to the
same object, we may learn from the brilliant Niagara novelist, William
Kirby! In his splendid historical novel "Le Chien d'Or," whilst venturing
on the boldest flights of imagination, he thus epitomises some striking
historical features of the state residence of the French Viceroys of
Canada.

    "The great hall of the Castle of St. Louis was palatial in its
    dimensions and adornment. The panels of wainscoting upon the walls
    were hung with paintings of historic interest--portraits of the Kings,
    Governors, Intendants and Ministers of State, who had been
    instrumental in the colonization of New France.

    "Over the Governor's seat hung a gorgeous escutcheon of the Royal
    arms, draped with a cluster of white flags, sprinkled with golden
    lilies--the emblems of French sovereignty in the colony; among the
    portraits on the walls, beside those of the late (Louis XIV.,) and
    present King (Louis XV)--which hung on each side of the throne--might
    be seen the features of Richelieu, who first organized the rude
    settlements on the St. Lawrence in a body politic--a reflex of feudal
    France; and of Colbert, who made available its natural wealth and
    resources, by peopling it with the best scions of the Mother Land--the
    noblesse and peasantry of Normandy, Brittany and Aquitaine. There,
    too, might be seen the keen, bold features of Cartier, the first
    discoverer, and of Champlain, the first explorer of the new land, and
    the founder of Quebec. The gallant, restless Louis Buade de Frontenac
    was pictured there, side by side with his fair countess, called, by
    reason of her surpassing loveliness, "The Divine." Vaudreuil, too, who
    spent a long life of devotion to his country, and Beauharnois, who
    nourished its young strength until it was able to resist, not only the
    powerful confederacy of the Five Nations, but the still more powerful
    league of New England and the other English Colonies. There, also,
    were seen the sharp intellectual face of Laval, its first bishop, who
    organized the church and education in the colony; and of Talon, wisest
    of Intendants, who devoted himself to the improvement of agriculture,
    the increase of trade, and the well being of all the King's subjects
    in New France. And one more portrait was there, worthy to rank among
    the statesmen and rulers of New France--the pale, calm, intellectual
    features of Mère Marie de l'Incarnation--the first superior of the
    Ursulines of Quebec, who in obedience to heavenly visions, as she
    believed, left France to found schools for the children of the new
    colonists, and who taught her own womanly graces to her own sex, who
    were destined to become the future mothers of New France." (Page 109.)

It were difficult to group on a smaller and brighter canvass, so many of
the glorious figures of our storied past.

In the days of de Montmagny and later, the _Jesuits' Journal_ retraces gay
scenes at the Château in connection with the festivals of the patron
saints, of St. Joseph, whose anniversary occurred on the 19th March, and
of St. John the Baptist, whose _fête_ happened on the 24th June.

For a long time the old Château, was the meeting place of the Superior
Council.

    "On any Monday morning one would have found the Superior Council in
    session in the antechamber of the Governor's apartment, at the Château
    St. Louis.  The members sat at a round table, at the head was the
    Governor, with the Bishop on his right and the Intendant on his left.
    The councillors sat in the order of their appointment, and the
    attorney-general also had his place at the board. As La Hontan says,
    they were not in judicial robes, but in their ordinary dress and all
    but the Bishop wore swords. The want of the cap and the gown greatly
    disturbed the Intendant Meules, and he begs the Minister to consider
    how important it is that the councillors, in order to inspire respect,
    should appear in public in long black robes, which on occasions of
    ceremony they should exchange for robes of red. He thinks that the
    principal persons of the colony should thus be induced to train up
    their children to so enviable a dignity; "and" he concludes, "as none
    of the councillors can afford to buy red robes, I hope that the King
    will vouchsafe to send out nine such; as for the black robes, they can
    furnish those themselves."

    "The King did not respond, and the nine robes never arrived. The
    official dignity of the Council was sometimes exposed to trials
    against which even red gowns might have proven an insufficient
    protection. The same Intendant urges that the tribunal ought to be
    provided immediately with a house _of its own_."

    "It is not decent," he says, "that it should sit in the Governor's
    antechamber any longer. His guards and valets make such a noise, that
    we cannot hear each other speak. I have continually to tell them to
    keep quiet, which causes them to make a thousand jokes at the
    councillors as they pass in and out. As the Governor and the council
    were often on ill terms, the official head of the colony could not
    always be trusted to keep his attendants on their good behaviour."
    (Parkman's _Old Regime_, p. 273.)

At other times, startling incidents threw a pall over the old pile. Thus
in August 1666, we are told of the melancholy end of a famous Indian
warrior: "Tracy invited the Flemish Bastard and a Mohawk chief named
Agariata to his table, when allusion was made to the murder of Chasy. On
this the Mohawk, stretching out his arm, exclaimed in a Braggart tone,
"This is the hand that split the head of that young man." The indignation
of the company may be imagined. Tracy told his insolent guest that he
should never kill anybody else; and he was led out and hanged in presence
of the Bastard. [33]

Varied in language and nationality were the guests of the Château in days
of yore: thus in 1693, the proud old Governor Frontenac had at one and the
same time Baron Saint Castin's Indian father-in-law, Madocawando, from
Acadia, and "a gentleman of Boston, John Nelson, captured by Villebon, the
nephew and heir of Sir Thomas Temple, in whose right he claimed the
proprietorship of Acadia, under an old grant of Oliver Cromwell."
(Parkman's _Frontenac_, p. 357.)


_FORT ST. LOUIS_

Ere one of the last vestiges of the _ancien régime_, Haldimand Castle,
disappears, a few details culled from reliable sources may not be
unacceptable, especially as by fire, repairs and the vicissitudes of time,
the changes are so great, as to render difficult the delineation of what
it originally formed part of in the past.

Grave misconceptions exist as to what constituted the stately residence of
our former Governors. Many imagine that the famous _Château St. Louis_,
was but one structure, whilst in reality, it was composed at one time of
three, viz:--Fort St. Louis, Château St. Louis and Haldimand Castle, the
present Normal School. The writer has succeeded in collecting together
nine views of the Fort and Château St. Louis since the days of Champlain
down to modern times. Champlain's "brass bell" is conspicuous in more than
one of the designs.

According to Father DuCreux, the first fort erected by Champlain on the
crest of the promontory, _arx aedificata in promontarii cuspidine_,
was not placed on the site of Dufferin Terrace, but at the south-east
point of the area, which is now occupied by the Grand Battery, north-east
of the present Parliament building and looking down on Sault-au-Matelot
street. Champlain subsequently removed it to a still more elevated site;
its bastions, towers and ramparts surrounded the space on which the former
Governor's residence, soldier's barracks, magazine, &c., were constructed.

    "The fortress, says Bouchette, (Fort) of St. Louis covered about four
    acres of ground, and formed nearly a parallelogram; on the western
    side two strong bastions on each angle were connected by a curtain, in
    the centre of which was a sallyport: the other faces presented works
    of nearly a similar description, but of less dimensions." [34]

We may add that Fort St. Louis, shown on the plan of Quebec of 1660,
published by Abbé Faillon, and more plainly exhibited on Jeffery's map of
Quebec, published in London in 1760, disappears after the conquest. No
mention is made of it in 1775, and still less in 1784, as a fortress.

Champlain, in his deposition, [35] sworn to, on the 9th Nov. 1629, in
London, before the Right Worshipful Sir Henry Martin, Knight, Judge of the
High Court of Admiralty, describes minutely, the armament and belongings
of Fort St. Louis, on the 9th August 1629, when he surrendered it to the
Kirkes: cannon such as they were, and ammunition he seems to have had in
abundance, without forgetting what he styles "the murderers with their
double boxes or charges," a not excessively deadly kind of
_mitrailleuse_ or Gatling gun, we should imagine; the Fort also contained
a smith's forge, carpenter's tools, machinery for a windmill, and a
handmill to grind corn, a brass bell--probably to sound the tocsin, or
alarm, at the approach of the marauding savages of Stadacona, the array
of muskets--(thirteen complete)--is not formidable. Who was the maker of
his pistol-proof coats-of-mail?


    _NEW CHÂTEAU ST. LOUIS._

      "Such dusky grandeur clothed the height
      Where the huge castle holds its state,
      And all the steep slope down
      Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky,
      Piled deep and massy, close and high
      Mine own romantic town."
                       (Scott's _Marmion_.)

    "Few circumstances of discussion and enquiry, says Hawkins, are more
    interesting than the history and fate of ancient buildings, especially
    if we direct our attention to the fortunes and vicissitudes of those
    who were connected with them. The temper, genius and pursuits of an
    historical era are frequently delineated in the features of remarkable
    edifices, nor can any one contemplate them without expressing
    curiosity, concerning those who first formed the plan, and afterwards
    created and tenanted the structure. These observations apply
    particularly to the subject of this chapter.

    The history of the ancient Castle of St. Louis, or Fort of Quebec, for
    above two centuries the seat of Government in the Province (of
    Quebec), affords subjects of great and stirring interest during its
    several periods. The hall of the old Fort during the weakness of the
    colony was often a scene of terror and despair at the inroads of the
    persevering and ferocious Iroquois, who, having passed or overthrown
    all the French outposts, more than once threatened the fort itself and
    massacred some friendly Indians within sight of its walls. Here, too,
    in intervals of peace, were laid those benevolent plans for the
    religious instruction and conversion of the savages which at one time
    distinguished the policy of the ancient governors. At a later era,
    when, under the protection of the French kings, the province had
    acquired the rudiments of military strength and power, the Castle of
    St. Louis was remarkable as having been the site whence the French
    governors exercised an immense sovereignty, extending from the Gulf of
    St. Lawrence, along the shores of that noble river, its magnificent
    lakes, and down the course of the Mississippi to its outlet below New
    Orleans. The banner which first streamed from the battlements of
    Quebec was displayed from a chain of forts which protected the
    settlements throughout this vast extent of country, keeping the
    English colonies in constant alarm, and securing the fidelity of the
    Indian nations. During this period the council-chamber of the castle
    was the scene of many a midnight vigil [36]--many a long deliberation
    and deep-laid project to free the continent from the intrusion of the
    ancient rival of France and assert the supremacy of the Gallic lily.
    At another era, subsequent to the surrender of Quebec to the British
    armies, and until the recognition of the independence of the United
    States, the extent of empire of the government of which the Castle of
    Quebec was the principal seat, comprehended the whole American
    continent north of Mexico. It is astonishing to reflect for a moment,
    to how small, and, as to size, comparatively insignificant an island
    in the Atlantic ocean this gigantic territory was once subject. Here
    also was rendered to the representative of the French king, with all
    its ancient forms, the fealty and homage of the noblesse and military
    retainers, who held possessions in the province under the crown. A
    feudal ceremony, suited to early times, which imposed a real and
    substantial obligation on those who performed it, not to be violated
    without forfeiture and dishonour. The king of Great Britain having
    succeeded to the rights of the French crown, this ceremony is still
    retained.

    "Fealty and homage is rendered at this day (1834) by the seigniors to
    the Governor, as the representative of the sovereign, in the following
    form: His Excellency being in full dress and seated in a state chair,
    surrounded by his staff, and attended by the Attorney-General, the
    seignior, in an evening dress and wearing a sword, is introduced into
    his presence by the Inspector General of the Royal Domain and Clerk of
    the Land Roll, and having delivered up his sword, and kneeling upon
    one knee before the Governor, places his right hand between his and
    repeats the ancient oath of fidelity; after which a solemn act is
    drawn up in a register kept for that purpose, which is signed by the
    Governor and the seignior, and countersigned by the proper officers."
    --(Hawkin's _Picture of Quebec_.)

    The historian, Ferland, _Notes sur les Registres de Notre Dame de
    Quebec_, relates one of the earliest instances (1634) of the manner
    the _foi et hommage_ was rendered. It is that of Jean Guion (Dion?)
    vassal of Robert Giffard, seignior of Beauport: "Guion presents
    himself in the presence of a notary, at the principal door of the
    manor-house of Beauport; having knocked, one Boulle, farmer of
    Giffard, opened the door and in reply to Guion's question, if the
    seignior was at home, replied that he was not, but that he, Boulle,
    was empowered to receive acknowledgments and homage for the vassals in
    his name. After the which reply, the said Guion, being at the
    principal door, placed himself on his knees, on the ground, with bare
    head and without sword or spurs, and said three times these words:
    'Monsieur de Beauport, Monsieur de Beauport, Monsieur de Beauport, I
    bring you the faith and homage which I am bound to bring you on
    account of my _fief_ Du Buisson, which I hold as a man of faith
    of your seigniory of Beauport, declaring that I offer to pay my
    seigniorial and feudal dues in their season, and demanding of you to
    accept me in faith and homage as aforesaid.'" (Parkman's _Old
    Regime_, p 246.)

    "Of these buildings (says Bouchette), the Castle of St. Louis being
    the most prominent object on the summit of the rock--will obtain the
    first notice.

    "It is a handsome stone building seated near the edge of a precipice,
    * * and supported towards the steep by a solid work of masonry, rising
    nearly half the height of the edifice, and surmounted by a spacious
    gallery, * * * The whole pile is 162 feet long by 45 feet broad, and
    three stories high * * * Each extremity is terminated by a small wing,
    giving to the whole an easy and regular character.

    "It was built shortly after the city was fortified with solid works,
    * * *--for a long series of years it was neglected, so much as to be
    suffered to go to decay, and ceasing to be the residence of the
    Commander-in-Chief, was used only for the offices of Government until
    the year 1808, when a resolution passed the Provincial Parliament for
    repairing and beautifying it; the sum of £1,000 was at the same time
    voted, and the work forthwith commenced.

    "The money applied was inadequate to defray the expenses--upon the
    grand scale the improvements were commenced, but an additional grant
    was made to cover the whole charge, * * *

    "Sir James Craig took possession of it, etc.

    "The part properly called the Château occupies one side of the square
    or court-yard; on the opposite side stands an extensive building
    (Haldimand Castle) divided among the offices of Government, both civil
    and military, that are under the immediate control of the Governor, it
    contains also a handsome suite of apartments where the balls and other
    public entertainments of the court are always given. During the
    dilapidated state of the Château, this building was occupied by the
    family of the Governors. Both the exterior and the interior are in a
    very plain style, it forms part of the curtain that ran between the
    two exterior bastions of the old fortress of St. Louis, adjoining it
    are several other buildings of smaller size, appropriated to similar
    uses, a guard house, stables, and extensive riding house, of these
    works only a few vestiges remain, except the eastern wall, which is
    kept in solid repair. The new guard house and stables, both fronting
    the parade, have a very neat exterior, the first forms the arc of a
    circle and has a colonnade before it, the stables are attached to the
    riding house, which is spacious, and in every way well adapted to its
    intended purpose, it is also used for drilling the city militia"--
    (Bouchette's _Topography of Lower Canada_, 1815, p. 431-4.)

The brilliant biographer of "Frontenac" and author of the, "Old Regime,"
thus sums up from the official correspondence of the French Governors and
Intendants the foundation, reconstructions and alterations in the Fort and
Château.

    "This structure," says Francis Parkman, "destined to be famous in
    Canadian history, was originally built by Samuel de Champlain. The
    cellar still remains under the wooden platform of the present Durham
    (now Dufferin) Terrace. Behind the château was the area of the fort,
    now an open square. In the most famous epoch of its history, the time
    of Frontenac, the château was old and dilapidated, and the fort was in
    sad condition." "The walls are all down," writes Frontenac in 1681,
    "there are neither gates nor guard-houses, the whole place is open."
    On this the new Intendant Meules was ordered to report what repairs
    were needed. Meanwhile la Barre had come to replace Frontenac, whose
    complaints he repeats. He says that the wall is in ruins for a
    distance of a hundred and eighty _toises_. "The workmen ask 6,000
    francs to repair it. I could get it done in France for 2,000. The cost
    frightens me. I have done nothing."--(_La Barre au Ministre_, 1682).
    Meules, however, received orders to do what was necessary, and, two
    years later, he reports that he had rebuilt the wall, repaired the
    fort, and erected a building, intended at first for the council,
    within the area. This building stood near the entrance of the present
    St. Louis street, and was enclosed by an extension of the fort wall.

    Denonville next appears on the scene, with his usual disposition to
    fault-finding. "The so-called château," he says (1685), "is built of
    wood, and is dry as a match. There is a place where with a bundle of
    straw it could be set on fire at any time,... some of the gates will
    not close, there is no watchtower, and no place to shoot from."--
    (_Denonville au Ministre_, 20 _Août_, 1685).

    When Frontenac resumed the Government, he was much disturbed at the
    condition of the château, and begged for slate to cover the roof, as
    the rain was coming in everywhere. At the same time the Intendant
    Champigny reports it to be rotten and ruinous. This was in the year
    made famous by the English attack, and the dramatic scene in the hall
    of the old building when Frontenac defied the envoy of Admiral Phipps,
    whose fleet lay in the river below. In the next summer, 1691,
    Frontenac again asks for slate to cover the roof, and for 15,000 or
    20,000 francs to repair his mansion.

    In the next year the king promised to send him 12,000 francs, in
    instalments. Frontenac acknowledges the favour, and says that he will
    erect a new building, and try in the meantime not to be buried under
    the old one, as he expects to be every time the wind blows hard.--
    (_Frontenac au Ministre_, 15 _Septembre_, 1692). A misunderstanding
    with the Intendant, who had control of the money, interrupted the
    work. Frontenac writes the next year that he had been "obliged to send
    for carpenters during the night, to prop up the château, lest he
    should be crushed under the ruins." The wall of the fort was, however,
    strengthened, and partly rebuilt to the height of sixteen feet, at a
    cost of 13,629 francs. It was a time of war, and a fresh attack was
    expected from the English.--(_Frontenac et Champigny au Ministre_, 4
    _Nov_, 1693). In the year 1854, the workmen employed in demolishing a
    part of this wall, adjoining the garden of the château, found a copper
    plate bearing an inscription in Latin as follows--

                                 D. O. M.
                         Anno reparatae salutis
                Millesimo sexcentesimo nonagesimo tertio
                 Regnante Augustissimo Invictissimo ac
                      Christianissimo Galliae Rege
                       Rege Ludovico Magno XIIII
               Excellentissimus ac Illustrissimus Dnûs Dnux
                          Ludovicus de Buade
                Comes de Frontenac, totius Novae Franciae
                        Semel et iterum Provex,
                Ab ipsomet, triennio ante rebellibus Novae
               Angliae incolis, hanc civitatem Quebecensem,
                  Obsidentibus, pulsis, fusis ac penitus
                               Devictis,
                Et iterum hocce supradicto anno obsidionem
                             Minitantibus
                  Hanc arcem cum adjectis munimentis
               In totius patriae tutelam populi salutem
              Nec non in perfidae, tum Deo, tum suo Regi
                Legitimo, gentis iterandum confusionem
                     Sumptibus regies oedificari
                               Curavit,
                     Ac primarium hunc lapidem
                               Posuit,

                                       JOANNES SOULLARD, Sculpsit

    (_Translation_)

    "In the year of Redemption, 1693, under the reign of the Most August,
    Most Invincible, and Most Christian King of France, Louis the Great,
    fourteenth of that name, the Most Excellent Louis de Buade, Count of
    Frontenac, Governor for the second time of all New France, seeing that
    the rebellious inhabitants of New England, who three years ago were
    repulsed, routed, and completely vanquished by him, when they besieged
    this town of Quebec, are threatening to renew the siege this very
    year, has caused to be built, at the expense of the King, this
    Citadel, with the fortifications adjoining thereto, for the defence of
    the country, for the security of the people, and for confounding again
    that nation perfidious alike towards its God and its lawful King, and
    he (_Frontenac_) has placed here this first stone."

    A year later, the rebuilding of the château was begun in earnest.
    Frontenac says that nothing but a miracle has saved him from being
    buried under its ruins, that he has pulled everything down, and begun
    again from the foundation, but that the money has given out.--
    (_Frontenac au Ministre_, 4 _Nov._, 1694) Accordingly, he and the
    Intendant sold six licenses for the fur trade, but at a rate unusually
    low, for they brought only 4,400 francs.

    The King hearing of this sent 6,000 more. Frontenac is profuse in
    thanks, and at the same time begs for another 6,000 francs, "to
    complete a work which is the ornament and beauty of the city" (1696).
    The Minister sent 8,000 more, which was soon gone; and Frontenac drew
    on the royal treasurer for 5,047 in addition. The Intendant complains
    of his extravagance, and says that he will have nothing but
    perfection; and that besides the château, he has insisted on building
    two guard-houses, with mansard roofs, at the two sides of the gate. "I
    must do as he says," adds the Intendant, "or there will be a quarrel."
    (_Champigny au Ministre_, 13 _Oct._, 1697). In a letter written two
    days after, Frontenac speaks with great complacency of his château,
    and asks for another 6,000 francs to finish it. As the case was urgent
    he sold six more licenses at 1,000 francs each, but he died too soon
    to see the completion of his favorite work (1698). The new château was
    not finished before 1700, and even then it had no cistern. In a pen
    sketch of Quebec, on a manuscript map of 1699, preserved in the Dépôt
    de Cartes de la Marine, the new château is distinctly represented. In
    front is a gallery or balcony resting on a wall and buttresses at the
    edge of the cliff. Above the gallery is a range of high windows, along
    the face of the building, and over these a range of small windows and
    a mansard roof. In the middle is a porch opening on the gallery, and
    on the left extends a battery, on the ground now occupied by a garden
    along the brink of the cliff. A water-colour sketch of the château
    taken in 1804, from the land side, by William Morrison, Jr., is in my
    possession. [37] The building appears to have been completely
    remodelled in the interval. It is two stories in height, the mansard
    roof is gone, and a row of attic windows surmount the second story. In
    1809 it was again remodelled at a cost of ten thousand pounds
    sterling, a third story was added, and the building, resting on the
    buttresses which still remain under the balustrade of Durham
    (Dufferin) Terrace, had an imposing effect when seen from the river.
    It was destroyed by fire in 1834.--(Parkman's _Old Regime_.)


HALDIMAND CASTLE

After sketching Fort St. Louis, begun in 1624,--a refuge against the
Iroquois, and whose bastions rendered useless disappeared shortly after
the conquest, as well as giving the history of the Château St. Louis
proper, destroyed by fire 23rd January, 1834, it behoves us to close the
narrative with a short account of the origin of the wing or new building
still extant, and used since 1871 as the Normal School. This structure
generally, though improperly styled the _Old Château_, dates back to
the last century. On the 5th May, 1784, the corner stone was laid with
suitable ceremonies, by the Governor-General, Sir Frederick Haldimand; the
Château St. Louis had been found inadequate in size for the various
purposes required, viz.: a Vice-regal residence, a Council room for the
Legislative, the Executive and Judiciary Councils, &c.

The Province was rapidly expanding, as well as the Viceroy's levees,
official balls, public receptions, &c.; suites of rooms and stately
chambers, became indispensible.

The following incident occurred during its construction:--On the 17th
September, 1784, the workmen at the Château in levelling the yard, dug up
a large stone with a Maltese cross engraved on it, bearing the date
"1647." One of Wolfe's veterans, Mr. James Thompson, Overseer of Public
Works, got the masons to lay the stone in the cheek of the gate of the new
building. A wood-cut of the stone, gilt at the expense of Mr. Ernest
Gagnon, City Councillor in 1872, appeared in the _Morning Chronicle_
of the 24th June, 1880. Let us hope when the site shall be transferred,
that the Hon. Premier will have a niche reserved for this historic relic
as was so appropriately done by Sir H L Langevin, for the "Chien d'Or"
tablet when the new city Post Office was built in 1871-3.

Haldimand Castle soon became a building of note. On the 19th January,
1787, the anniversary of the Queen's Birthday--Charlotte of Mecklenburg,
consort of George III., the first grand reception was held there. In the
following summer, the future monarch of Great Britain, William IV., the
sailor pri

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