FALLS OF STE. ANNE. 
 
FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE 
 AND CHARACTER 
 
 WITH HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES OF 
 
 THE SCENERY AND LIFE IN QUEBEC, MONTREAL, 
 
 OTTAWA, AND SURROUNDING COUNTRY 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO GRANT, D. D. 
 
 t queen's university, KINGSTON, ONT. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY WOOD-ENGRAVINGS FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS 
 BY F. B. SCHELL, L. R. O'BRIEN, W. T. SMEDLEY, T. MORAN, 
 
 G. GIBSON, AND OTHERS 
 
 I 
 
 CHICAGO 
 ALEXANDER BELFORD & CO. 
 
 1899 
 
r 
 
 
 252 gj 
 
 '-^ / / 
 
 :3 /'' 
 
 /"' ■ i 
 
 f -J I 
 
 }/f:/9Ay7^ £^.^^ 
 
 CorvKHiirr, 1S99 
 Bv alexani)i:k IJELKORD &• CO. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 FRKNCII-CANAIMAN LIFE AND CIIARACTP:R 
 
 Hy J. G. A. CRKICHTdX, M. A. 
 
 QUEBEC— HISTORICAL AM) DESCRIl'TIVE 
 
 By PRIN'CIPAL GRANT, D.I)., and .MISS A. M. MACHAR 
 
 SOUTHEA.STERN OUEHEC 
 
 By J. HOWARD HrXIKR, M.A. 
 
 MONTREAL 
 
 By REV. A. J. BRAY and JOHX LKSBKRANCK, M. R. S. C. 
 
 THE LOWER Oi TAWA 
 
 By R. VASHON ROGERS, B. A., and C. P. MCLVANEY. M.A. 
 
 OTI'AWA 
 
 Till'; UPPER OTTAWA 
 
 By F. A. DIXOX 
 
 hy C. P. MULVAXKY, M.A. 
 
 PAGK 
 9 
 
 51 
 
 '39 
 
 179 
 
 2C0 
 
 -3i 
 
AND CUARACTHR 
 
 ►V/vt/vriiti., 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 ** TF you have never visited the C6te de Beaupre, you know neither Canada nor the 
 ■*■ Canadians," says the Abbe Ferland. 
 
 The beautiful strip of country that borders the St. Lawrence for a score or so of 
 miles below the Falls of Montmorency does, indeed, afford the best possible illustration 
 of the scenery, the life, and the manners of the Province of Quebec, the people of 
 which, not content with naming the Dominion, claim Canada and Canadian as designa- 
 tions peculiarly their own. All that is lovely in landscape is to be found there. The 
 broad sweep of " the great river of Canada," between the ramparts of Cape Diamond 
 and the forest-crowned crest of Cap Tourmente, is fringed with rich meadows rising in 
 terraces of verdure, slope after slope, to the foot of the sombre hills that wall in the 
 vast amphitheatre. In the foreground the north channel, hemmed in by the bold cliffs f 
 of the Island of Orleans, sparkles in the sun. Far away across the Traverse, as you / 
 look between the tonsured head of Petit Cap and the point of Orleans, a cluster of .' 
 low islands breaks the broad expanse of the main stream, the brilliant blue of which 
 
 ^ 
 
lO 
 
 FREXClf C '. IX. I/)/. IX LIFE 
 
 GATHKKINCi MARSH HAY. 
 
 melts on the distant horizon into the hardly purer azure of the sky. 
 with swellin''- can\as, make their slow wa\-. or Kinsjr 
 hijrh on the flats await their carsj^o. Stately ships 
 ^t^lide down with the favourini; tide, or an- 
 nounce the near end of the voyag'e by siir- 
 nals to th(.: shore and Liuns that roll loud - ? 
 
 thunder through the hills. The marshes, 
 
 Ouaint battcanx. 
 
 LOADING A HATTKAU AT LOW TIDE. 
 
.LV/f Cll.lRACrr.R 
 
 TI 
 
 CAP TOLKMKNTK AM) I'KUT CAP. 
 
 cov(;red with rich L^rass, are stucUh^'il with haymakt'rs i^fatheririL,^ the abundant yield, 
 or are dotted with cattle. Inland, stiff poplars and bosky elms trace out the long 
 brown ribands of the roads. Here and there the white cottages group closer together, 
 and the spire of the overshadowing church topping the trees, marks the centre of 
 a |)arish. Red roofs and glistening domes tlash out in brilliant points of colour 
 against the fleecy clouds that ileck the summer sky. Rich pastures, waving grain, 
 orchards and maple groves, lead the eye back among th(!ir softly-blending tints to the 
 dark masses of purple and green with which the forests clothe the mountains. Huge 
 rifts, in which sunlight and shadow work rare effects, reveal where imprisoned 
 streams burst their way through the Laurentian rocks in successions of magnificent 
 cascade's. A glimpse of white far up the mountain side shows one of these, while its 
 placid course through the lowland is marked in silver sheen. As the sun gets icnv. oiie 
 perchance catches the flash reflected from some of the lovely lakes that lie among 
 the hills. 
 
 The Cote de Heau])re is th(! oldest as well as the fairest part of the Province. It 
 was settled soon after Champlain landed, the rich marsh hay being utilized at onc(; for 
 the wants of Quebec. In i6_?3 a fort was built at Petit Cap, the summit of the pro- 
 monotor)- that juts out into the river under the o\ershadowing height of Cap Tourmente. 
 The fort was destroyed by Sir David Kirk — Admiral, the chroniclers call him — in these 
 days he would probably be hanged as a buccaneer — who harried the cattle and then 
 sailed on to summon Quebec to surrender for the first time. In 1670 Laval established 
 here a school for training boys as well in farming and mechanics, as in doctrine and 
 discipline. Among other industries, wood-carving for church decoration was taught, 
 
 ^ 
 
12 
 
 FRENCH CANAIUAX LIFIi 
 
 so that the Cdte dc Bcaupre can lay claim to the first Art School ind the first 
 model-farm in America. The Quebec Seminary still keeps up this state of things — 
 at least as far as ajj^riculture is concerned. The place is known as " The Priests' I-'arm," 
 and supplies the Seminary, beinjjf thoroughly worked and having much attention given 
 to it. It is also a summer resort for the professors and pupils of the Seminary. 
 
 After the restoration of Canada to I'Vance by the Treaty of St. Germain-en-Laye, 
 in 1632, this part of the little colony grew apace, so that by the time the seigniory 
 passed into Laval's hands, from whom it came to its present owners — the Seminary — 
 its population, notwithstanding its exposure to 
 attack by the Iroquois, was greater than that 
 of Quebec itself. From its situation it has 
 been less vulnerable than many other districts 
 to outside influences. The face of the country 
 and the character of the people have yielded 
 less to modern ideas, which, working quietly 
 and imperceptibly, have left intact many of 
 the antiquities, traditions and customs that 
 have disappeared elsewhere within the last 
 generation. Here you may find families liv- 
 ing on the lands their forefathers took in 
 feudal tenure from the first seigneurs of La 
 Nouvelle France. What Ferland says is still 
 to a great extent true: "In the habitant of 
 the Cdte de Beaupre you have the Norman 
 peasant of the reign of Louis XIV., with his 
 legends, his songs, his superstitions and his customs." He is not so benighted as 
 many people think he is, but here and there you will come across a genuine survival 
 of the Old Regime, and may, perhaps, meet some gray-capoted, fur-capped, brown-visaged, 
 shrivelled-up old man, whose language and ideas make you think a veritable Breton 
 or Norman of the century before last has been weather-beaten and smoke-dried into 
 perpetual preservation. 
 
 All the world over your rustic is conservative. The old gods lived long among 
 the Italian villagers, though Rome was the centre of the new faith. Among the 
 liabitans of the Province of Quebec there yet exist a mode of life and cast of thought 
 strangely in contrast with their surroundings. In the cities a rapid process of assimi 
 lation is going on. Quaint and foreign though Montreal, and especially Quebec, seen' 
 to the stranger at first "ght, their interest is mainly historical and political. To under 
 stand the national life of Lower Canada, you must go among the habitans. 
 
 The word is peculiarly French-Canadian. The paysan, or peasant, never existed ir 
 
 AN OLD HABITANT. 
 
AXD CHARACTER J3 
 
 Canada, for the feudalism established by Louis XIV. did not imply any personal depend- 
 ence upon the seigneur, nor, in fact, any real social inferiority. Each censitairc was, in 
 all but name, virtually as independent a proprietor as is his descendant to-day. He 
 was and he is emphatically the dweller in the land. He "went up and saw the land 
 that it was good," possessed it, and dwells therein. The term is often used as equiva- 
 lent to cuUivatcur, or farmer, and as distinguishing the rural from the urban population ; 
 but, rightly understood and used as he uses it, nothing more forcibly expresses 
 both the origin and nature of the attachment of the French - Canadian to his 
 country and the tenacity with which he clings to his nationality, his religion and his 
 language. 
 
 The persistency of French nationality in Canada is remarkable. The formal guar- 
 antees of the Treaty of Paris and the Quebec Act, that language, religion and laws 
 should be preserved, undoubtedly saved it from extinction by conquest. But to the 
 difference in character between the French and English, which is so radical and has been 
 so sedulously fostered by every possible means, not the least effective being an able and 
 vigorous literature which preserves and cultivates the French language ; to the political 
 freedom which allowed the realization of the early perception that as individuals they 
 would b^ without influence, as a body all-powerful ; to the inherent merits of their civil 
 law, the direct descendant of a jurisprudence which was a refined science centuries be- 
 fore Christ ; and to the ideal of becoming the representatives of Roman Catholicism 
 in America, must be mainly ascribed the vitality that the French-Canadians have shown 
 as a distinct people. Their numerical and physical condition will be dealt with later on, 
 but it may be said here that a great deal is also due to their origin. The hardy sailors 
 of Normandy and Bretagne ; the sturdy farmers of Anjou, Poitou, Le Perche, Aunis, 
 Saintonge and L'lle-de-France ; the soldiers of the Carignan regiment who had fought on 
 every battle-field in Europe, brought with them to Canada the spirit of adventure, the 
 endurance, the bravery — in short, all the qualities that go to make successful colonists, 
 and that they inherited from the same source as does the Englishman. In the United 
 States, the second or third generation finds other immigrants completely fused into the 
 common citizenship, but the little French-Canadian colonies in the manufacturing towns 
 of New England and in the wheat regions of the West, keep their language, and, to a 
 great extent, their customs. Canada was a true colony, and has remained the most 
 
 successful French attempt at colonization. From various causes, Louisiana has failed to 
 
 I 
 
 keep her nationality intact. In Lower Canada, the spirit of Champlain and La Salle, 
 of the coureurs dc bots, of the Iroquois-haunted settlers on the narrow fringe of strag- 
 gling farms along the St Lawrence — the spirit that kept up the fight for the Fleiirs de 
 Lis long after " the few acres of snow " had been abandoned by their King — has always 
 ^^emained the same, and still animates the colons in the backwoods. The French-Cana- 
 |ians have always fought for a faith and an idea, hence they have remained French. 
 
14 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE 
 
 4 EDmCcmnC: 
 
 As one of their most celebrated French orators pointed out at the fjreat national fete 
 
 of St. Jean liaptiste at Quebec in 1880, that was the secret of it all; while the 
 
 Thirteen Colonies, which fought for material 
 interests, are American, not English. 
 
 Whatever the cause, there is no doubt as 
 to the fact of French nationality. The north 
 shore of the St. Lawrence is more- i-rench 
 than is the south, where tlie proximity of the 
 Unit(xl States and the inlluenc(; of the Fnglish- 
 settled eastern townships are sensible. In the 
 western part of the Province, the numericjil 
 proportion of French is smaller and their char- 
 acteristics are less marked ; but from Montreal 
 downwards — the towns of course excepted — nou 
 are to all intents in a land where English is 
 not spoken. Below Quebec, far down to the 
 Labrador coast, is the most purely French por- 
 tion of all. Vou may find greater simplicity 
 of life, and more of the old customs, in such a 
 primaival parish as Isle aux Coudres, farther 
 down the river ; the people on the coast where 
 
 the St. Lawrence becomes the gulf, are sailors ami fishermen rather than farmers; those 
 
 along the Ottawa are lumberers and raftsmen ; but the Cote 
 
 de Beaupre is fairly typical of the whole of French-Canada. T 
 
 The names of its five parishes, L'Ange 
 
 Gardien, Chateau Richer, Sainte Anne de 
 
 Beaupre, St. Joachim, and St. 
 
 Fereol, tell you at once you 
 
 are in a land with a religion 
 
 and a history. Nothing, per- 
 haps, strikes a stranger more 
 
 than the significant nomencla- 
 ture of the Province. Every 
 
 village speaks the faith of the 
 
 people. He Jesus, .Sainte P'oye, 
 
 L'Assomption, L'P2piphanie, .St. 
 
 Joseph, Ste. Croix, .Sle. Anne, 
 
 St. Barthelemi, St. Plustache, 
 
 Notre Dame des Anges, are 
 
 HABITANT A.ND SNOW-SHOES. 
 
 L'ANGE (JAKUIEN. 
 
 ■w 'M,-^- 
 
AX/) CHARACTER '■ i5 
 
 not mere designations. The pious commemorations and joyful celebrations of the 
 patron saint or particular festival show it. Hills, rivers and lakes tell of military 
 achievements, of missionary voyages, of dangers encountered, of rest after peril past, 
 of the hojjcs that animated the voya^^cnrs pushing through the maze of forest and 
 stream in search of the golden West, of grand prospects and lovely landscapes, of 
 quaint semblances and fond reminiscence of home. Take just a few of these names : 
 Calumet. Sault au Recollet, Belange, Carillon, Chaudiere, Pointe aux Trembles, Bout 
 de L'lle, Lachine, Portage du Port, Beaupre, BeUtil, La Lievre, La Rose, Chute 
 au Bloiuleau, Riviere Ouelle, Riviere au Chien, Montreal, Quebec, Joliette, Beauport. 
 Each suggests a story of its own ; most of them have their associations of history 
 and tradition, and there are thousands like them. The French knew how to name a 
 country. In point of i)eaut\- ami significance, their names are unequalled ; and they not 
 onl\' descriiietl th(,' land as do the Indians — they literally christened it. I*lven where it 
 comes to iHM-petuating the memories of men, what a sonorous ring there is about Cham- 
 plain, Richelieu, Sore], Chambly, Varennes, Contrecnjur, Longueuil ami Beauharnois, 
 unapproachaI)le b\- b^nglish analogues. Point Levis is, in truth, not a whit more iX-sthe- 
 X\(t than Smith's P'alls, nor more useful, but there is no dt:nying its superiority of sound. 
 When you know the grotesque and haughty legend that represents the X'irgin JMary in 
 heaven telling a Chevalier de Levis, "Cousin, keep on your hat," )ou can no longer 
 compare the two names, for you (juite understand why the Le\is family should have a 
 Point as well as an Ark of its own. 
 
 -■s 
 
 L'Ang(; Ciardien lies just beyond the famous Falls of Montmorency. Set in trees on 
 
 ^ the slope of the hills, which here grow close on the river^ and standing high o\er the 
 
 _ norlli channel, the \illage commands an extjuisite \iew, the placitl ])eaut)- of which makes 
 
 "The Guardian Angel" a most appropriate name. The spot has not always had such 
 
 .••peaceful associations.' Wolfe's troops, thos'j " P'raser's Highlanders" who afterwards 
 
 turned their swords into ploughshares so effectually that their descendants at Murray 
 
 Ba>- ami Kamouraska are P'rench even to ha\ing forgotten their fathers' lanLniaee, 
 
 ravaged this jnirish and Chateau Richer from one end to the other, destroyed all the 
 
 .^0rops, and burned almost every house. There is little trace of the devastation now, ex- 
 
 . cept in the stories that old Iiabitans have heard their elders tell. Two quaint little 
 
 '^apels stand one on each side, a few arpcns from the parish church. 'Phey were 
 
 .originall}- intended for mortuary chapels during the winter, when the frost [)revents graves 
 
 being dug, and for use at the celebration o'f the "Fete Dieu " or "Corpus Christi " in 
 
 |une, the procession going to one or the other in alternate years. On these occasions, 
 
 ^e>- would be gay with llowers, flags, and evergreens. Beside one of them is the little 
 
 !ot used for the burial of heretics, excommunicated persons, and unbaptized infants. 
 h('re is always such a corner -in every village cemetery, never a large one, for the 
 j||ople are too good Catholics not to have an intense dread of lying in unconsecrated 
 
I6 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE 
 
 ground, and too charitable to consign strangers to the fate they fear for themselves. 
 The chapel farthest down the river is now a consecrated shrine of Notre Dame de 
 Lourdes. Before the statue of our Lady burns a perpetual light, and she divides with 
 La Bonne Ste. Anne de Beauprc the devotions of thousands of pilgrims annually. 
 
 The course of settlement along the St. Lawrence is well defined. Close to the river, 
 in a belt from two to ten miles wide, on the north shore, lie the old French farms. 
 Back of these, among the foot-hills, is a second range of settlements, for the most part 
 Irish and Scotch. F'arther in are the colons or pioneers, who, no longer able to live 
 upon the subdivision of their patrimomc or family inheritance, commence again, as their 
 ancestors did, in the backwoods. Parallel roads, painfully straight for miles, mark out 
 
 FRENCH FARMS. 
 
 the ranges into which the seigniories and parishes are divided. These ranges or concessions, 
 are sometimes numbered, sometimes named, almost universally after a saint. On the 
 south shore, the belt of settlement is much wider. At the westward of the Province it 
 extends to the United States boundary line, but narrows as it approaches Quebec, so 
 that below the city the arrangement is much the same as on the north side. In fact, 
 French-Canada is very truly described as two continuous villages along the St. Lawrence, 
 The succession of white cottages, each on its own little parallelogram of land, has 
 struck every traveller from La Hontan to the present day. 
 
 The narrow farms, or ierres, as they are called, catch the eye at once. Originally 
 three arpens wide by thirty deep (the arpent as a lineal measure equals i8o French or loi | 
 
AND CHARACTER '7 
 
 English feet), or about 200 yards by a little over a mile, they have been subdivided 
 according to the system of intestate succession under the Coutume de Paris, which gives 
 property in equal shares to all the children, until the fences seem to cover more ground 
 than the crops. The division is longitudinal, so that each heir gets an equal strip of 
 beech, marsh, plough land, pasture, and forest. The houses line the road that runs along 
 the top of the river bank, or marks the front of the concession if it lies back any distance. 
 This arrangement is but a carrying out of the principle upon which the original settle- 
 ment was formed, to gain all the advantages of the river frontage. The entire organi- 
 zation of F"rench-Canada depended on it. The system was well adapted for easy com- 
 munication in the early days of the colony ; the river was the highway — in summer, for 
 canoes — in winter, for sleighs ; so that the want of good roads was not a serious disad- 
 vantage. It was also well suited for defence against the Iroquois, who in their bloody 
 raids had to follow the course of the streams. The settlers could fall back upon each 
 other, gradually gaining strength until the seigneur s block-house was reached and a stand 
 made while the news went on from farm to farm, and the whole colony stood to arms. 
 In the district of Quebec you may often hear a habitant speak of going " au fort," 
 meaning thereby " au village," — a curious survival of those fighting days. 
 
 In winter the ice is still the best of all roads. Long lanes of bushes and small 
 spruces, dwindling away in distant perspective, mark out the track, to keep which would 
 otherwise be no easy matter at night or in a snowstorm, and point out the " air holes " 
 caused by the "shoving" or moving en masse of the ice that usually follows any change 
 in the level of the river. 
 
 This universal parallelogramic shape is, however, very disadvantageous to the 
 development of a country, being to no small extent anti-social and particularly unfavour- 
 able to a general school system. The geographical, not the mental condition of the liabi- 
 tant has militated most against intellectual and social improvement. There were no 
 points of concentration for the interchange of ideas, save the gathering at the parish 
 church on Sundays and f6te-days when, after High Mass, the crowd lingers to hear the 
 huissiers publications of official notices at the church door ; or, once in a while, to listen 
 to electioneering addresses. The villages are, as before noted, for the most part long, 
 straggling lines of houses, with hardly any sign where one begins and the other ends, 
 save the spire of another church, with the neighbouring cottages a little closer together. 
 There are no country gentry. The seigneur rarely resides upon his estate, and when 
 he does, his prestige is no longer what it was ; he is often merely a habitant himself, 
 one of the people, as are the curi!, the couple of shopkeepers, the village notary, and 
 the doctor, wjho compose the notables. The judicial terms every month at the Chef 
 Lieu, which in a way corresponds to the County Town, by no means compare with the 
 bustle of the Assizes in an English or Ontarian County. For the habitans not close 
 to one of the large cities there is no going to market, as nearly everything they raise 
 
i8 
 
 FRJtXC/f CLV.I/)/. I.V TJFR 
 
 is consumed by themselves at home. The isolation of the curds, their zeal for their 
 pastoral work and the incessant demands upon their time, used to prevent much study 
 and practice of agriculture as a science, or much attention to the education of their 
 flocks in an\thino- l)ut rf^ligious duties. In the old days, when sct'onciir and ciin' both 
 dcri\ed their incoini; from imposts on produce, the dejj^ree of consideration in which a 
 habitant was held I)\- his superiors, and consequently his respectability, was settled prin- 
 cipally by the amount of wheat he sowed. 
 
 With the energetic development of colonization on the Crown lands, the establish- 
 ment of agricultural societies, the opening of roads, the construction of the Provincial 
 railway, the liberal aid given b) the Government to private railway enterprise, and, 
 
 'l 
 
 
 
 -^*^/ 
 
 fc- 
 
 "^^ 
 
 
 CHATKAU KICHKK. 
 
 above all, the excellent school system, this state of things is fast disappearing. Though 
 it ma\ recpiire another generation or two to overcome the influence of habits centuries 
 old, originally founded in reason, and still rooted in popular affection by custom and 
 tradition, there is every indication that before long Lower Canada and its liabitans may 
 become in effect what by nature they are meant to be, one of the most .'prosperous df 
 countries and intelligent of peoples. 
 
 Chateau Richer, which, in natural beaut\', equals L'Ange Gardien, is the next parish 
 to the eastward. It gets its name from an old Indian trader, whose chateau near the 
 
AND CHARACTER i9 
 
 river is now but a small heap of ruins almost lost in the uncler<rro\vth. The hill here 
 advances abruptly towards the river, forming, where the main road crosses its projecting 
 spur, a commanding elevation for the handsome stone church that towers over the cottages 
 which line the gracefully receding curve beyond. Not many )ears ago the blackened 
 walls of a convent lay at the foot of this same hill, witnesses of the ruin worked at 
 the time of the Conquest. Knox says in his journal, that the priest, at the head of his 
 parishioners, fortified the building and held it against an English detachment and two 
 pieces of artillery, but it was reduced to ashes ; the remnant of its brave garrison were 
 scalped b\' the Irocpiois allies of the English. It i;. fn*" more likel)- that the brave curd 
 stayed with his llock, to comfort them to the last, than that he led them on. However 
 that may be, the convent has been rebuilt, and is now the parish school. 
 
 The seigniories or large tracts in which the land was originally granted, varied 
 much in size, but usually corresponded with the ecclesiastical di\ision into parishes. As 
 territorial divisions, the\' have been supplanted by the modern municipal system. Many 
 of them are still held by the descendants of the grantees ; others have passed into the 
 hands of strangers. .Some are owned by religious corporations, the principal of these 
 being the Island of Montreal, St. Sulpice and the Lake of Two Mountains — all of 
 which belong to the Seminary of St. Sulpice at Montreal — and that of the Cote de 
 Beaupre, owned by the Quebec Seminary. Since the abolition of feudal tenure by the 
 Act of 1854, which [jlaced a large sum in the hands of the Government, to be paid to 
 the sn's^iic/ns in extinction of their rights, their former dignity has sadly (.Iwindletl. The 
 title is, in most cases, but a barren honour, though in one instance — that of the Barony 
 of Longueuil — it has recently been recognized as carrying with it a patent of nobility. 
 It had been the intention of Louis XI\'., in founding a feudal s)'stem in Canada, to 
 create a territorial aristocracy, but in avoiding the danger of sowing the teeth of the 
 dragon it had cost the Bourbons so much to kill, he bestowed his favours upon a class 
 unable to support their honours. The consequence was that, in most cases, the sc/oiiair 
 niad(.: the complaint of the unjust steward, that " to dig he knew not and to beg he was 
 asliamed," and prayed to be allowed to drop his nobility ami earn his living the best 
 ■ \,'ay he could. 
 
 The titles had, therefore, nearly quite disappeared before the Contpiest. The seig- 
 niorial rights were never very extensive. Tliey consisted principally in the Cciis ct RciUes, 
 or annual ground-rent paid by the icnsitairi' for his hoKling, and in the Tods ct I'cntcs, 
 or tine collected on each transfer of a property- from one tenant to another. The former 
 were very trifling, something like two sous per acre being the usual amount in hard 
 cash, with a bushel of wheat, a fowl, a pigeon, or a sucking-pig, as payment in kind, 
 ;On rent-day, in the month of November, the farm-yard of the viaiioir woukl present a 
 i lively scene, in droll contrast to the solemn dignity with which the sci'i^iicur, seated in 
 his large chair before a table covered with his huge account-books, and in the old days 
 
20 FRENCIT CANADIAN LIFE 
 
 with his sword laid in front of him, received the sakjtations and compliments, and weigheti 
 the excuses of his censitaircs, who rivalled the Irish peasant in chronic impecuniosity 
 and ingenious devices. The Lods ct Ventcs were a more serious imposition, amountinj^ 
 to one-twelfth of the price of sale. They were a hindrance to the progress of the 
 country, for they discouraged improvements by the tenant, and prevented the infusion 
 of new blood and the spread of new ideas. They seem, however, not to have been 
 considered so by the ccnsitaires themselves. In reality, they were an expression of the 
 domesticity of French-Canadians, who dread the breaking up of families, and live for 
 generation after generation upon the same land, with a tenacity and affection equalled 
 only by their industry and endurance, when at length home and kindred have been left. 
 In connection with the motives for the imposition of this fine, one of which, no doubt, 
 was the desire to keep the people bound to the land, and another the wish to profit 
 by the rare chance of a ccnsitaire having ready money — though the origin of the Lods 
 et Voltes in reality leads back to the earliest feudalism — it is curious to note such 
 confiicting traits in the same people. The contrast is historical. It was hard to persuade 
 the home-loving peasantry of France to emigrate when, in 1663, the King took up so 
 vigorously his dream of an Empire in the West. Once in La Nouvelle France, however, 
 such was the spirit of adventure, that it almost immediately became necessary to issue 
 an edict forbidding their wanderings, and compelling them to make their clearings con- 
 tiguous and their parishes as much as possible in the form of those in France. Within 
 a hundred j-ears a penalty had to be imposed upon too close settlement and small farms. 
 in order, to bring the seigneurs estates all under cultivation. .At the present time a 
 great aim of the Government is to discourage emigration, and to aid by every means 
 the repatriation of French-Canadians and colonization in the back country. One of the 
 most potent means of effecting this is found to be their strong family affection. 
 
 There was another right incidental to the Lods et Vcntes — the Droit de Retrait, or 
 privilege of pre-emptio.i at the highest price bidden for land within forty days after its 
 sale ; this, however, was not much used. The only other right of real consequence was 
 the Droit de Banality, by which the eensitaire was bound to grind his corn at the seii:^- 
 netirs mill, paying one bushel out of every fourteen for toll. This arrangement suited 
 the habitant very well. He is saving enough, and manages to accumulate a little capital 
 sometimes, but it goes into the savings bank, not unfrequently into an old stockinij. 
 The risk of an investment is too much for him, and he used to prefer that the seigneur 
 should make the necessary outlays, while all that he was called upon for would be a 
 sacrifice of part of his crop. In this way, however, all industrial enterprise was ham- 
 pered and discouraged by the monopoly of the water power. Under the French r^ginu, 
 a civil and criminal jurisdiction over his vassals, varying in extent according to the 
 dignity of the fief, was theoretically vested in the seigneur ; and all the three grades 
 known to feudal law — the basse, moycnne and hatite justice — theoretically existed in 
 
AND CHARACTER 
 
 21 
 
 Canada, but its exercise was rare, owinj; to the expense of keeping up the machinery 
 
 of a court and the petty amount of its cognizance. 
 
 These reHcs of feudalism liave a curious interest to the antiquarian and also a very 
 
 practical one as regards the progress of the country, existing as they did in the New 
 
 World and under the protection of the British Constitution, and still living in the 
 
 memories and language of the present generation. 
 
 One of the most interesting aspects of the feudal tenure was the social relation 
 
 between seigneur and censitaire. This was nearly always a paternal one, so much so, 
 
 indeed, that it was quite as much 
 a duty as a right by courtesy of 
 the scigneicr to stand godfather 
 for the eldest children of his 
 
 WAVSIDK U'ATKKING TKOldU. 
 
 [ccnsitaircs. Among his many graphic descriptions of life under the Old Regime, 
 M. de Gaspe gives an amusing account of a friend receiving a New Year's visit 
 from a hundred godsons. The manoir was all that "the Great House" of an English 
 scjuire is and more, for the intercourse between seigneur and censitaire was freer 
 and more intimate than that between squire and tenant. In spite of the nominal sub- 
 jection, the censitaire was less dependent and subservient than the English peasant. 
 It is impracticable here to go into any detailed description of the seigniorial tenure. 
 its influences and the mode of its abolition ; but without some knowledge of it, 
 the actual as well as the past condition of Lower Canada would be impossible to 
 .understand. The whole system of colonization originally rested upon two men, the seig- 
 
 I 
 
22 
 
 FR/iXC/f CAN API AX IJFH 
 
 Hfiir and the ain'. Through llu-in the Government worked its military and religious 
 organizations, while their interests in the soil, from which both derived their income, 
 were identical. " The Swc rd, the Cross, and the Plough " ha\e been said to explain th(' 
 secret of I'Vench-Canadian nationality. These three came together in their hands. Of 
 course, all around the old French settlements the system of freehold upon which thi- 
 Crown lands are granted has produced great changes in manners, customs, and ideas, 
 but the influence of the old state of things is still strongl)- marketl. In the face of all 
 the improvements effected and progress made since its abolition, it served its purpose; 
 well, and, as the Abbe Casgrain remarks, " The democratic anil secularizing spirit of 
 our age is opposed to these feudal and ecclesiastical institutions, but we may be per- 
 mitted to doubt whether it could have invented a system better adapted to the genius 
 of our race and to the needs of the situation." 
 
 There are few drives in the l'ro\ince prettier than that from Quebec to St. loachim, 
 as it winds along between the hills and the river through Beauport, past L'Ange Gar- 
 dien. Chateau Richer, ami .Ste. Annt;, crossing en the wa)' the Montmorency, Sault a la 
 Puce, Riviere aux Chiens, and Ste. Anne, besides a host of smaller streams. Once out- 
 side the toll-gates, the rugged streets of Quebec give place to an excellent macada- 
 mized road kept in capital order. In summer, wizened old toiiipcrcs, too bent and worn 
 out for any other work, salute )ou from tlie tops of the piles of stones the\' lazily 
 hammer between the complacent puffs of their pipes and their comments on passers-by. 
 There is a great deal of work in these old fellows, and their cheerfulness lasts to the 
 end. The P rench-Canadian is a capital labourer, slow perhaps, but sure. He is docile 
 and willing, and his light-heartedness gets over all difficulties. " Your merry heart gO's 
 all the! day, your sail one tires in a mile-o," is his motto. In winter you have to turn 
 out to let the snow-plough with its great wings and its long team of six or eight horses 
 go past amid cheery shouts from its guides, whose rosy faces and icicled beards toppini,' 
 the clouds of snow that cover their blanket coats make them look like so many P'athir 
 Christmases. 
 
 There is a great deal to see along the road besides the beautiful scenery that met t-; 
 the eye everywhere. .Springs are abundant in the gravelly soil. They trickle down thf 
 bank under the trees, making tielicious nooks by the paths where wooden spouts con- 
 centrate their How. Wells, of course, are not much needed along the hillside. If you 
 stop to drink you will probably have an opportunity to appreciate P^rench-Canadi.ui 
 civility. The odds are greatly in favour of some of the host of brown-skinned, bhu k- 
 eyed, merry-looking children that play about the neighbouring house being sent over U' 
 ask if " Monsieur will not by preference have some milk ?" You like the clear ice-ceKi 
 water. " Bun, ccst bonne lean frcttc (]nand on a soif" but " Monsieur will come in, 
 perhaps, and rest, for sacrc il fait chand cci aprcs-niidi." Monsieur, howe\er, goes «iii 
 amid all sorts of good wishes and polite farewells. 
 
AX/) CHARACTER 
 
 23 
 
 It seems stran,L,'e to see the women at work in the ticKls. Their hhie skirts and 
 enormous hats, however, are fine hits of ch'tail for a picture, and they iiavini^r b(;en 
 used to such labours all •:helr liv(>s, do not mind it. Voun-j^ twirls of the poorer class 
 hire out for the harvest, to^jether with their brothers. At times you may meet troops 
 of them on their wa>- to church, their hotter h'taufaiscs — as store-made boots are still 
 called, in contradistinction to botta liidicinits — sluno- round thinr necks. This heavy 
 
 *' • .. ..T' 
 
 m^m^^'^^fi^^^ry^ 
 
 . . ' V. <,^4'""'*' *=;:.>UT-^f I'^^e-^s^'! 
 
 %tlis3E!*'^-45M" 
 
 ST. JOACHIM. 
 
 labour, however, has told upon the class, if not upon the individual, and, no doubt, 
 accounts for the ill-favouredness and thick, stpiat fiL^mres of the lower order of hahitaiis. 
 Even the children take a good share of hard work, and none of the potential energy of 
 the family is neglected that can possibly be turned to account. One of the most striking 
 sights by the roadside of a night towards the ^x\(\ of autumn are the family groups 
 "breaking" tlax. After the stalks have been steeped they are dried over fires built in 
 pits on the liillsides, then stripped of the outer bark by a rude home-made machine 
 constructed entireh' of wood, but as effective as it is simple. The dull gleam of the 
 sunken fires and the fantastic shadows of the workers make up a strange scene. 
 
 Not the least curious features of the drive are the odd vehicles one meets. Oxen 
 do much of the heavier hauling, their pace being quite fast enough for the easy, 
 patient temperament of the habitant, to whom distance is a mere abstraction — time 
 and tobacco take a man anywhere, seems to be his rule. It is impossible to find out 
 the real length of a journey. Ask the first habitant you meet, " How far is it to Saint 
 Quelquechose?" "Deux ou trois lieues, je pense, Monsieur," will be the answer, given 
 so thoughtfully and politely that you cannot doubt its correctness. But after you have 
 jjovered the somewhat wide margin thus indicated, you need not be astonished to find 
 
24 FRENCH CANADIAN UFF 
 
 you have to go still " unc lieue et encore," or, as the Scotch put it. " three miles ami 
 a bittock," nor still, ay^ain, to find the "encore" nuich the best part of the way. 
 Another characteristic mode of measurinjj^ distance is by the number of pipes to be; 
 smoked in traversing it. "Deux pipes" is a very variable quantit), and more satisfactory 
 to an indeterminate equation than to a hungry traveller. 
 
 The " buckboard " is a contrivance originally peculiar to Lower Canada. It has 
 thence found its way, with the French half-breeds, to the North-west, where its simplicity j 
 and adaptability to rough roads are much appreciated. It is certainly unique in con- 
 struction. Put a pair of wheels at each end of a long plank and a movable seat between 
 them ; a large load can be stowed away upon it, and jou are independent of springs, 
 for when one plank breaks another is easily got. The wayside forgeron, or blacksmith, 
 need not be a very cunning craftsman to do all other repairs. The charcttc, or market- 
 cart, is another curiosity on wheels, a cross between a boat and a gig, apparently. The 
 caldchc is a vehicle of greater dignity, but sorely trying to that of the stranger, as, 
 perched high up in a sort of cabriolet hung by leathern straps between two huge 
 wheels, he flies up and down the most break-neck hills. The driver has a seat in front, 
 almost over the back of the horse, who, if it were not for his gait, would seem quite 
 an unimportant part of the afYair. 
 
 It is not very long since dog-carts were regularly used in the cities as well as in 
 the country, for all kinds of draught purposes, but this has now been humanely stopped. 
 Along the roads they are a common sight, and notwithstanding the great strength of 
 the dogs used, it is not pleasant to see one of these black, smooth-haired, stoutly- 
 built little fellows panting along, half hidden under a load of wood big enough for a 
 horse, or dragging a milk-cart with a fat old woman on top of the cans. They are 
 generally well-used, however, if one may judge by their good-nature. Out of harness 
 they lie about the doors of the houses very contentedly, and, like their masters, are very 
 civil to strangers. 
 
 The signs over the little shops that you meet with at rare intervals in the villages, 
 are touchingly simple in design and execution. An unpainted board, with lettering 
 accommodated to emergencies in the most ludicrous way, sets forth the. " bon marc /ic' 
 to be had within. The forgeron, who is well-to-do — in fact, quite un Jiabitant h son 
 ai'sc — has, perhaps, a gorgeous representation of the products of his art. A modest 
 placard in the nine-by-four pane of a tiny cottage window, announces "rafraichissement" 
 for man, and farther on " une bonne cour d'ecurie " provides for beast. At Ste. 
 Anne's, where the little taverns bid against each other for the pilgrim's custom, one 
 hotellier bases his claim to favour upon the fact of being " epoux de Mdlle. " sonit- 
 body. Whether the Mdlle. was a saint or a publican of renown, the writer knows not. 
 But the oddities of these signs would make an article to themselves, and we must p;is> 
 on, with the shining domes of convent and church as landmarks of the next villa,L';t'. 
 
 M 
 
//.\7) CflARACTI-R ^^ 
 
 I'.vv,.^ now and then a roadside cross is passed, sometimes a grand Calvairr, resplendent 
 with stone and gildinJ,^ covered by a roof, and from its high platform showing afar the 
 symbol of Christian faith. Statues of the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph sometimes 
 stand at each side of the crucifix, but such elaborate shrines are rare, and as a general 
 rule a simple wooden cross enclosed by a paling reminds the good Catholic of his 
 faith, and is saluted by a reverent lifting of his hat and a pause in his talk as he 
 
 '''t? ^^ *' '^ 
 
 ON THE ROAD TO ST. JOACHIM. 
 
 goes by. Sometimes you meet little chapels like those at Chateau Richer. They 
 stand open always, and the country people, as they pass, drop in to say a prayer lo 
 speed good souls' deliverance and their own journey. 
 
 A little off the road you may perhaps find the ruins of an old seigniorial manoir, out- 
 lived by its avenue of magnificent trees. The stout stone walls and iron-barred windows 
 tell of troublous times long ago, while the vestiges of smooth lawns and the sleepy 
 fishponds show that once the luxury of Versailles reigned here. The old house has 
 gone through many a change of hands since its first owner came across the sea, a gay 
 soldier in the Carignan regiment, or a scapegrace courtier who had made Paris too hot for 
 
 
I'Riixuf c.w.mi.w i.irr. 
 
 him. Little is left of it now, save perhaps 
 the tiny chapel, buried in a throve of solemn 
 oaks. A few, very few, of these old buildings 
 have survived. 
 
 Ordinary French - Canadian houses, though 
 picturesque enough in some situations, as when 
 you come round a corner upon a street like 
 that in Chateau Richer, are much alike. A gros habitant, as a well-to-do farmer is 
 called, will have one larger and better furnished than those of his poorer neighbours, 
 but the type is the same. They are long, low, one-storey cottages, of wood, sometimes 
 of rough stone, but whether of wood or stone, are prim with whitewash often crossed 
 with black lines to simulate, in an amusingly conventional way, courses of regulai 
 masonry. By way of variety, they are sometimes painted black or slate colour, 
 
1 
 
 ./.\7' (IIARACTIIR . 27 
 
 with white lines. Sciiian- brick huililiiij^s with inansartl roofs of tin. l).ire in archi- 
 tecture anil surronndinj^rs, i^rlarin!.,^ in newness and hideous with saweil scroll-work, 
 are iinfortunat(;ly sprins^iiij^' up oM-r the coiintr\- in mistaken testimony of improxe- 
 ment. The artist will still prefer the old lioiises with their unpretentious simplicity 
 and rude l»ut i.;enuine c.\[)ressions of ornament. 'iheir hi_Ljh, sharp-pitched roofs 
 spriu]^ from a graceful curve at the projectinjr caves. o\cr whicli ])eep out tiny 
 dormer windows. 'Ihe shin_i,des at the riclLjt! and o\-er the windows are pointed hy 
 wa\' of decoration. Koof. lintels, and iloor-posts art; .Ljaily paintt;d, for thr luihitaitl 
 loves colour even if tin; freedom with which he uses the primaries is at times 
 rather distractinLr to mon; cultivateil eves. .\ Xwv'v chimnev built outsicU; the 
 house projects from the stable vwA, anil sometimes the stairwa)' also has to tind room 
 outside, reminding- ont; of the old i'rench towns whose architecture ser\ed to model 
 these quaint buildinjjfs. A broad i^^allery runs alom^- the front, furnishini.^ pleasant 
 shade under its \ines, but dark('nin_Lj the interior into which small casement windows 
 admit too little lii^'ht and air. Sometimes a simple platform, with ricketty wooden 
 steps at each end or a couph; of stones leading;' to the door, takes the place of the 
 fjallery antl affords room for a ft-w chairs. .\ restimL^f^-place of some kind then- must 
 be, for in summer the leisure time of the habilaiil is spent at the door, the women 
 knittinjj;', the men smokiuL; the e\ il-smellini^ native tobacco, while ever\' passer-by i^ixes 
 a chance for a t^ossip ami a joke. The heav\' wooden shutters, a sur\i\al of the oKl 
 Indian-li,nhtin<4- times, are tightly closed at nii,dit. L:^iviniL;- an appearance of security little 
 needed, for robberies are almost unknown, ami in man\' districts locks are ne\er us(;il. 
 In da\-time, the white linc-n blinds in front are drawn down, which i^dxes a rather funereal 
 look, and the closinn' of the shutters cuts off the lii^ht at ni^ht, makin!:;- the roads \cr\- 
 cheerless to the traveller. 
 
 In the district of Quebec, the people are \er)' fond of flowers. Even vt^ry j)oor 
 cottatj^es have masses of brilliant bloom in tin; windows and little garden plots in front 
 neatly kept and assiduously cultivated, for the altar of the parish church is decorated 
 with the'r growth, and the chililren i)resent their firstfruits as an offering at their first 
 communion. An elm or two, with masses of beautiful foliage, may afford grateful shade 
 from the intensity of the summer sun. A row of stiff Normandy poplars, brought from 
 oUl b>ance in Champlain's or Frontenac's time perhaps, is sure to be found bordering 
 the kitchen garden that is fenced off from the road more by the self-grown hedge of rasp- 
 berry and wild rose than by the dilapidated palings or tumble-down stone wall. A great 
 want, however, in the surroundings of most French farms is foliage, for practical as well as 
 asthetical objects. The grand second growth of maples, birches and elms that succeeds 
 the primaeval forest has been ruthlessly cut away, till the landscape in many districts, 
 especially on the north shore, between Quebec and Montreal, is painfully bare in fore- 
 ,ground, while the houses are exposed to the keen north wind and the cattle have no 
 
28 
 
 FR/iXC/f CANADIAN LIFE 
 
 shelter from the sun and storm. In 
 
 the French time the houses were 
 
 generally surrounded by orchards at once ornamental and 
 
 profitable. One may even now occasionally come across 
 
 some descendants of them owing their origin to sunny 
 
 France. In the C6te de Beaupre you will see them still, 
 
 but they have in too many cases disappeared, and it is 
 
 only within a few years past that fruit-growing has been systematically taken up b\ 
 
 the liabitans. The large orchards regularly cultivated on the Island of Montreal, 
 
 show with what success the beautiful " St. Lawrence," the well-named Fafucusc, and the 
 
 golden Pommc Grise, a genuine little Normandy pippin, can be grown. Plums, yellow 
 
 and blue, grow wild in abundance. A small, reddish-purple fruit, of pleasant flavour and 
 
 not unlike a wild cherry in appearance, is plentiful, as are also cherries, wild and 
 
 cultivated. 
 
 The number and beauty of the waterfalls on the Lower St. Lawrence are astonishing. 
 Every stream must find its way to the river over the immense bank, and must cut 
 its channel through the tremendous hills. In the Cote de Beaupre alone, there are 
 dozens of magnificent falh not known to Canadians even by name, though within a 
 few miles of, sometimes close to, the main road. Those on the Riviere aux Chiens 
 and those from which the Sault k la Puce is named, are only two examples. The Falls 
 of Ste. Anne and those of .S' Fereol are sometimes heard of, yet even they, grand 
 as they are and lovely in their surroundings, are rarely visited. Both are on tne 
 
AND CHARACTER 29 
 
 Grande Rivifere Ste. Anne, which divides the parishes. Its course is nearly opposite 
 to that of the St. Lawrence, and is throughout nothing but a succession of tumultuous 
 rapids and stupendous cataracts. 
 
 Leaving the road where the stream crosses, at which point there is a splendid 
 view of Mount Ste. Anne, the highest of the innumerable peaks that break the sky- 
 line as you look down the river from Quebec, a drive of three miles through beau- 
 tiful woods leads within sound of falling water. Another mile over a lovely path 
 through the heart of the forest, and a steep descent into a ravine, brings you face to 
 face with an immense wall of granite, its base a mass of tilted angular blocks. The 
 river narrows here, concentrating all its powers for its tremendous leap into the gorge 
 that forms the main channel, but only the swift rush of the water, the cloud of 
 spray and the deep reverberations that echo from the cliff tell of its fate. A 
 clamber over inclined and slippery rocks, beautiful with lichens of every hue, must 
 be risked before, lying at full length, you can see the perpendicular column of crystal 
 beaten into snowy foam on the rocks over a hundred feet below. Shooting down a 
 second pitch the torrent breaks and rises in plume-like curves. Myriads of glittering 
 gems dance in the play of sunlight upon the spray. Far above, the precipice rises 
 stark and gray, its face seamed with titanic masonry, its crest crowned with huge battle- 
 ments, like the wall of a gigantic fortress. The trees that banner it above seem no larger 
 than the tufts of grass that cling in the crevices of its perfectly perpendicular front ; 
 great buttresses support this mountain wall, polished and bright with perpetual moisture. 
 Other two channels tear their way down the cliff in falls of less volume and grandeur, 
 but of great beauty as they leap from shelf to shelf, uniting at the foot in a large circular 
 basin worn deep into the black basalt. So still and dark, it is well named " The 
 Devil's Kettle." 
 
 The chasm through which the main body of the stream flows is narrow enough to 
 jump over ; but his would be a steady brain who could face the leap, and a si'.re fate 
 who should miss his foothold. The island in the centre towers up in a succession of 
 giant steps, each a huge cube of rock. These one may descend, and gain a front view 
 of all three Falls. Down stream one looks through the narrow cleft till the boiling 
 torrent i.: suddenly shut cut from view by a sharply-projecting spur. The rocks seem 
 to j?"" under the immense weight of the falling water; eye and ear are overpowered. 
 The scene is one of unparalleled grandeur. 
 
 F"arther up the Ste. Anne, after a beautiful drive along its west bank and round the 
 base of the mountain, the hill-girt \illage of St. Fereol is reached. Through forest 
 glades, where the moss-festooned spruces mourn over the prostrate trunks of their giant 
 predecessors, and sunlit copses where the golden leaves of the silver birch mingle with 
 the crimson of the dying maples, the delicate emerald of the quivering aspen and the 
 warm russet of the ferns in magic harmonies of autumn hues, the way winds on to 
 
 i 
 
30 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAX /.//•/: 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 FALLS Ol- ST. 
 
 rLRKOL. 
 
 where the Seven Falls chase each other down the 
 
 rock)- face of a hujj^e hill in masses of broken water. 
 
 Down a narrow cleft in the everi,rreens which stand in bold relief against the sky, 
 
 ''omes the first and largest Fall. Leaping from step to step, the torrent dashes over 
 
IND CHARACTER 
 
 31 
 
 the second shelf in clouds of spray, its snowy fra^jnients unitini,^ again only to be 
 parted b}' a projectin*,^ rock, past which the twin rapids rush, chatino- from side- 
 to side, as if in search of each other, until the)- join, and plunge together over 
 the fourth shelf. The fifth l<"all pours down a steep decline and whirls in foaming 
 eddies round the inky depths of a rock\- Ijasin, upon which looks out through the mist 
 a cave called " Le Trou ile St. Patriee." Turning sharply to the left, the stream rolls on 
 in heav)- waves of dark water to the sixth r'all, antl then sweeping through close walls 
 of rock, plung(!s into an inaccessible ab\ ss. On both sides of the river deep ravines 
 and high promontories follow each other in rapid succession, and a thick growth of 
 forest clothes the whole. 
 
 Within the last fifteen years, agriculture has made great advances in some parts of 
 the l'ro\ince, much of which, howe\er, )et remains in a primitive; enough condition. I-ong 
 isolation, a fertile soil, simplicit}' of life and of warus, lia\e combined to keep the 
 French-Canadian farmer ])rett\- much what he was in the middle of the last century. In 
 some respects his ancestors were' bettc-r than he ; the\' worked on a larger scale and had 
 more energy. The Conepiest, with its c()nse([uent wholesale emigration, and the unsettled 
 political state of tlu; country down to 1S40, nearl\- extinguished all the spirit and in- 
 duslr\ that had survixeel the exactions of officials and the; effects of war during the 
 Fnncli |)criod. Among the liabitaus farming is decidedly still in its infanc\'. Tilling, 
 sowing, reaping antl storing are ;11 done 1)\ hand. In the back parislu^s the rudest ot 
 home-madL- ploughs, dragged along b\- a cou|:)le of oxen, and a horst; who seems to 
 mo\(: thf oxen that they may mo\e the plough, barely scratch up the soil. A brench- 
 Canadian harrow is the most prima'xal of implements, being at best a rough wooden 
 rake, antl often merely a lot of brushwood fasteneil to a beam. The sc_\lhe and 
 the sickle are not yet displacetl by mowing machin(;s ; all the ingenious contrix ances 
 for harxesting, binding and storing, are unknown. Threshing is still done b)- tlails and 
 strong arms, though once in a while \<ki ma\- hear the rattle of a treadmill where the 
 little' black pony tramps awa\- as sleei)il\ and contented!}' as his master sits on a fence- 
 rail smoking. 
 
 Wheat, barley, oats, maize antl buckwheat, peas antl beans, are the principal grain 
 croi)s. The beet-root, however, is attracting attention, in cf)nse(iuence of the establish- 
 ment of beet-root sugar factories, an enterprise cordially furthered by Ciovernment aid but 
 yet in its experimental stage. .ShouKl this industry be successful, it will gi\e a great 
 im|)('tus to farming, and the uiulfrtaking has the merit — no small one, in the people's 
 opinion — of being distinctly iM-ench. Hay is abimtlant antl \ery good. I'dax and hemp 
 are raised. Tobacco thrives ailmirabl\- in the short but intensely warm summer. 
 Patches of its tall, graceful, broad-leaved plants waving in the wind alongside the yel- 
 low tassels of the Indian corn, heighten the foreign aspect around some old cottage. 
 Vegetables of every kind grow luxuriantl)'. Delicious melons are abundant antl cheap. 
 
32 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE 
 
 All sorts of garden fruit — strawberries, raspberries, gooseberries and currants — are- 
 plentiful. Strawberries are now grown in large quantities for the town markets. Grapes 
 grow wild in abundance. Immense quantities of maple sugar are yearly produced by 
 the "sugar bushes" on the slopes of the hills. Its domestic use is universal among 
 the habitans, and in the towns the syrup, sugar and laithr — or the sugar in an un- 
 crystallized, pummy state — are in great demand. The processes of tapping the trees, 
 collecting the sap, "boiling down," and "sugaring off," have been described too often 
 to repeat here ; but a visit to a sugar camp will well repay anybody who has not 
 seen one, and is a favourite amusement for picnickers. The French-Canadians cling 
 to the most primitive methods in this, as in everything else, the result, if an economic 
 loss, being at least a picturesque gain. 
 
 Such fertility as the Province possesses should make it a rich agricultural country. 
 It is really so. A very erroneous impression exists that all the best land has been 
 exhausted ; but this is an idea akin to the one that every French-Canadian wears 
 moccasins and is called Jean Baptiste. It is quite true that a couple of hundred jears 
 of persistent tillage upon an evil routine, and want of opportunities to see anything 
 better, have run down the old French farms ; but even as it is, they yield well. Many 
 an English farmer would be fjlad to tjet such land, and would w'ork wonders with a 
 little manure and proper rotation of crops. Then there are millions of acres yet 
 untouched. The state of affairs in the Cote de Bcaupre is described only as being 
 an interesting relic of a period almost past. Agriculture is in a state of transition. 
 Already the advantages of rich soil, magnificent suijimer climate, and cheap labour, 
 are being realized. 
 
 At Ste. Anne, history and tradition blend with the life and manners of to-day in a 
 most striking way. The first settlers in the Cote de Beaupre built a little church on 
 the bank of the St. Lawrence, and dedicated it to La Bonne Ste. Anne, in memory, 
 no doubt, as Ferland says, of the celebrated pilgrimage of .Sainte Anne d'Auray in 
 Bretagne. The bank, however, was carried away by the ice and the floods. So another 
 building was commenced in 1657 upon the site pointed out by M. de Queylus, the 
 Vicar-General, and given by Etienne de Lessard. It was finished in 1660. The (io\- 
 ernor, M. d'Argenson, laid the first stone, and the work was done by the pious labour 
 of the habitans. As one of these, Louis Guimont by name, racked with rheumatism, 
 painfully struggled to place three stones in the foundation, he suddenly found his health 
 restored. Thenceforward, La Bonne Ste. Anne de Beaupre became famous througiioui 
 all Canada. Among the pilgrims that flocked to celebrate her fete each year, wen' 
 conspicuous the Christian Hurons and Algonqums, in whom their missionaries had 
 inspired a special devotion for the mother of the Blessed Virgin. To this day then- 
 descendants are to be found among the thousands of worshippers whom the steamers 
 carry from Quebec. The pilgrimage is not always such an easy excursion. Those who 
 
AND CHARACTER 
 
 12, 
 
 have special favours to implore, often trudge on foot the long journey to the shrine. 
 A pyramid of crutches, trusses, bandages, and spectacles stands in the church, to attest 
 the miraculous cures worked by faith and prayer. 
 
 The site of the old church is marked by a chapel built with the old materials. 
 It is roughly finished within, containing only a few stained seats and a bare-looking 
 altar which stands between two quaint images of Ste. Marie Magdelaine and Ste. Anne, 
 
 CHAI'l-.I. AM) GROTTO AT STK. ANNF DK BKAUPRK. 
 
 apparently of the time of Louis XIV. By the roadside, close to the chapel, stands a 
 rough grotto surmounted by the image of the sainte set in a niche, over which again 
 .JShere is a cross. Over the stones pours the clear water of a spring ; this the pilgrims 
 \ake away in bottles, for the sake of its miraculous healing power. Near-by is the old 
 presbytery, and farther up the wooded slope, hidden among the trees, is a convent of 
 Hospital Nuns. Their gentleness and kindness to the sick that resort here should 
 
 
34 
 
 FREXCII CAXAniAN LIFB 
 
 siitticc to canonize each one of these devoted ladies, whose lives are as beautiful as 
 their surroundings. 
 
 A handsome new church was dedicated in 1S76. To it were removed the old 
 altar and pulpit, both of the seventeenth centur\-, and the relics ami original ornaments 
 of the old church. Among thcs(! are an altar-piece b\- Lc Hrun, the gift of the 
 Marquis dc Tracy; a silver relicjuary, and a painting b\- Le I'rancois, both the gilt 
 of Mons. de Laval ; a chasuble worketl by Anne of Austria, and a bon*^ of the finger 
 of Ste. Anne. There are also a great number of cx-voto tablets some ver\- old aiiij 
 
 OLD HOUSKS AT I'OIN r LKVIS. 
 
 by good masters — to commemorate deliverances from peril at sea, for Ste. Anne watcher 
 specialh" over sailors and travellers. Numbers of costly vestments have also been 
 presented, and Pius IX., in addition to giving a fac simile of the miraculous portrait 
 of Our Lady of Perpetual Help, set in a jewelled frame, issued a tlecree declaring ihf 
 shrine to be of the first magnitude. 
 
 There are many other places in the neighbourhood of Quebec which, if not snii: 
 exact types of the past nor so varied in natural features as is the Cote de Beauprc 
 yet afford beauty of scenery, historic association, and opportunit)- to study the life o' 
 
ANf) CHARACTER 35 
 
 the people. It is hard to choose, but a few should he visited, and among these Point 
 Levis stands first in j^^coyrraphical order and in interest of all kinds. 
 
 Landing at Indian Cove, where the descendants of those Iroquois, who got from 
 the I^nglish (jovernment so much a-piece for every I'Vench scalp, used to build their 
 wigwams, to await the distribution of the annual bounl\-, on»; finds a splendid graving 
 dock being built on the ver)- s[)Ot where they hauled up their bark canoes. The cliff 
 is a worthy mate for Cape Diamond. From its tree-lined summit rolling hills covered 
 with houses, tk-lds and woods, so that the country looks like an immense [)ark, stretch 
 back to the sky-line, in pleasant contrast with the abrupt outline of the other shore. 
 The main street lies between the river and the jagged face of the rock. At each end 
 it climbs the cliff in zigzags, between old houses whose fantastic shapes, peaked roofs 
 and heavy balconies make the place seem like some old Norman town. At one {)oint 
 where a spring trickles down the cliff, a wooden stairway leads from the lower to the 
 upper town. Close by stand the old and new churches of .St. Joseph, the latter a huge 
 stone building of the usual type, the former a rude little chapel, with an image of the 
 saint in a niche over the door. Everywhere there is, as in Quebec, this meeting of 
 the old and the new. The Intercolonial Railway trains shake the foundations of the 
 oUl houses, and interrupt, with their shrill whistle, the chant of the boys at vespers in 
 the College chai)el. Tugs puff noisily along with big ships, where Wolfe's Hotilla stole 
 so silently under the cliffs the night before the battle on the Plains of Abraham, and 
 barges of the same pattern as those in which his soldiers crossed lie side by side 
 with Allan steamships. Back of the heights from which his batteries pounded Quebec 
 into ruins, and where Montgomery's men, wasted with their winter march through the 
 wilds, wait(;d for strength to carry out their daring attack, three motlern forts dominate 
 the South Channel and the land approaches. Planned with all the skill of the Roj'al 
 Engineers, their casemates are meant for guns beside which the cannon that last did their 
 work here would look like pop-guns. The view from them is superb. On the east a 
 rol'ing plateau, densely wooded, stretches to the distant mountains of .Maine. 0[)posite 
 stands Quebec, the lower town in deep shadow beneath the cliff, the upper town 
 glistening in the sun. Up and down the river the eye can roam from Cap Rouge 
 to Crosse Isle, and never weary of the colossal e.xtent of mountain, river and 
 forest. 
 
 The forts are in charge of the battery of Canadian artillery stationed at Quebec. 
 Many of the men are French-Canadians, and e.xcellent soldiers they make. In cheerful 
 submission to discipline, respect for their ofiPicers, and intelligence, the French militia 
 cor[)s are superior to the English in the rural districts. Among the Field Artillery, 
 the most technical arm of the service,— so much so, indeed, that in England the mili- 
 tary authorities have not yet ventured to form volunteer batteries, — the Quebec Field 
 Battery composed entirely of French-Canadians, is a model of equipment, drill and 
 
 .^ 
 

 
 6 /■•A7:".\'( ■// C : I. v. l/'/.I.V LIFE 
 
 discipline, ami is, after a few days of annual training', (juite iindistinguishaljle from the 
 permanently-embodied corps in the Citadel. 
 
 About five miles to th(,' northwest of Out-bec is the Indian villa^^e of l-orette. 
 Hver\- Charter for the settlement of La NouxelU; I'rance repeats in substance the 
 words of that granted b\- Richelieu to the Compan\- of the One llundreil Associates, 
 the object of which was "to endeavour by I)i\ine assistance to lead the peo[)le therein 
 to the kiiowU'tl^e of the true Cod, to cause them to be disciplined and instruclc'cl in 
 the Catholic, Ajjostolic and Roman faith." In fact the earlier settlements were as 
 professedly missions as tradint,^ enterprises. The idea of a rej^ular colony on a lart^e 
 scale did not take shape till tlu' time of Louis XI\'., under whom, as his hereditary 
 title of Most Christian Majestx' demanded, the interests of religion were l)y no means 
 a secondar)- consideration. The llurons were the first fruits of missionary dexotion. 
 In 1634 the Jesuits Hrebeuf, Uaniel, and Dauost, took up the work bes^un 1)\- the 
 RecoUet fathers, \'iel and Le Caron, and the Jesuit Sa«;ard, twelve \ears before. 
 B_\- 1650 the whole nation was professedly Christian. The descendants of these 
 Hurons, onl)- a few hundreds all told, are (juite civilized, quiet, orderly, and peace- 
 able. Many of them are well educated, comfortably off and cultivatini:,'- good farms. 
 The love of the forest and of the chase is, however, too deep in their natures to 
 be totally eradicated, and the younger men are fond of getting awa\- to the woods. 
 You never tliul an Indian ashamed of his blootl ; these still call themselves proudly 
 "The Huron Nation," and on official occasions, such as the visit of a Cio\ernor or 
 the Indian Commissioner, their chiefs wear full Intlian costume. Among them are a 
 few Abenakis and other representatives of the great Algoncpiin family, to which the 
 Montagnais of the Lower .St. Lawrence, the only really "wild Indians'' of Lower 
 Canada, also belong. The French term '' Sauvagc" is much more e.\pressi\e than 
 " Indian," but seems rather a misnomer when applied to some of the fair-coniplexioned 
 well-dressed and polished inhabitants of Lorette, among whom there is a great ad- 
 mixture' of white blood. They do a large; business in all sorts of tMiibroider)-, in 
 .silk and porcupine (piills u[)on birch-bark and deer-skin, make snow-shoes beatl-work, 
 moccasins, and other curiosities. The old church is shown with much pride, for the 
 Hurons are good Catholics. The scliool is another of their sights. TIk; children 
 sing with a vigour suggestive of a war-ilance rather than a lu'inn, but their bright, 
 intelligent faces, and the musical name of the performance, reassure one as to 
 his scalp. They get thorough instruction, and are apt pupils. After school some 
 of them are always ready to show visitors the balls, for a branch of the St. Charles 
 runs through the village, and as has been said before, wherever there is a stream in 
 this country there are Falls, A paper-mill intrudes its dam upon the bed of the 
 river at their head, and spoils what was once a grand sheet of water covering with 
 a crystal curtain the now bare rock ; but a sharp turn in the deep gorge soon hides 
 
 I 
 
A.\7) cn ARACriiR 
 
 37 
 
 I'ALI.S OF LOKKI TE. 
 
38 
 
 FRRNCII CANADIAN LIFE 
 
 this, and the view from below has nothiiii^ to detract from its miiii^ded j^frandeiir and 
 loveliness, to which words cannot do justice. 
 
 CAP ROUGE. 
 
 Following the south shore of the St. Lawrence from I'oint Levis all the way 
 up to the Chaudiere the same magnificent panorama repeats itself with subtle 
 
 CAPE DIAMOND, FROM ST. ROMUALU. 
 
 gradations as distance softens down the details of the landscape and new features 
 come into sight. At St. Romuald the view down the river is very grand. The 
 
AND CHARACTER 30 
 
 bold outline of Cape Diamond stands clear cut against the sky. Heyond are the 
 purple peaks that close in on the St. Charles, and the misty hills that surround the 
 headwaters of the Montmorency peep through the pass up which the Charlesbourg 
 road winds to Lake Beauport. To the right the conical mass of Mount Ste. Anne 
 towers over the ridge of Levis. Below runs the river dark under the shadow of banks 
 seamed with leafy coves, but losing itself in the sunshine that makes fairyland of the 
 iJeauport shore. Every place in sight has some historic or traditional association 10 
 add another charm. 
 
 From St. Romuald it is not far to the Chaudiere Falls, whose abrupt and tremen- 
 dous plunge fully justifies their name. There are many Chaudieres in Canada, the term 
 being generic, but this " Chaldron " is grand and tumultuous enough to be typical of 
 all, and to name the whole river. It and the Montmorency F'alls are probably but 
 miniatures of the unspeakably magnificent cataract that once must have existed at Cap 
 Rouge, that grand promontory seven miles above Quebec, where the great rock cliffs 
 close in and confine the St. Lawrence into river-like dimensions. There are strong 
 indications that the river must once have been dammed up here behind a great barrier, 
 over which, just as its tributaries now find their way into it over the surrounding 
 plateau, it flowed into the sea in a Hood compared with which Niagara would be a 
 driblet. In some of the mighty convulsions that heaved the Laurentian rocks — the 
 oldest geological formation of all — from their depths, and shaped their towering peaks, 
 this barrier must have given way and the stream have fallen to its present level. 
 
 The rich red rock which gives it its name and the bold outline of its cliff, make 
 Cap Rouge as conspicuous as Cape Diamond. On this '' pronioiitoirc hiiitc ct raidc" 
 Jacques Cartier built a fort, to guard his ships when he returned to Stcdacona on his 
 third voyage, in 1541, and Roberval wintered there the following year, rebu Iding Carrier's 
 fort, and naming it " France Roy," in honour of the King. The beauty of the forests 
 that crown the cliffs and the fertility of the soil are still as remarkable as when Cartier 
 wrote of the ''fort donncs ct belles terres pleines d'anssi heaitx et ptiissants arbres que ron 
 pnissc voir au monde." 
 
 Along the river in the autumn, wild ducks and geese appear in large numbers, while 
 farther back partridges and wild pigeons are abundant, and trout can always be had for 
 the catching. Many of the habitans are very skilful with rod and gun, rivalling the 
 Indian half-breeds — wiry, long-haired, black -visaged, wild-looking fellows, who make a 
 regular business of shooting and fishing. Down the Gulf fish is, of course, the great 
 stand-by. Eels, which swarm in the mouths of the streams, are speared in immense 
 numbers. They are a favourite dainty, and are salted for winter use, as are also great 
 quantities of wild fowl. 
 
 These peeps at the country about Quebec might be prolonged indefinitely, such is 
 the number of charming spots to be reached by an easy drive. But all this time we 
 
40 
 
 FRENCH CAN API AX IJFE 
 
 LIGHT-SHIP ON IHK S !'. I.AWKKNCK. 
 
 have been lookinjr at the habitant in a long-cultivated, thickh-settlecl region, and there 
 
 is another phase of his life which can only be seen in the wilds. A journey up 
 
 the St. Maurice gives good opportunity for 
 
 appreciating it, but to get to the St. Maurice 
 
 one must go to Three Rivers, and by far 
 
 the best way of doing this is to make the 
 
 night voyage up the St. Lawrence by the 
 
 Richelieu Company's steamer. A moonlight 
 
 scene on the St. Lawrence is such as to leave 
 
 a deep impression of the majesty of the great 
 
 river up which Cartier toiled for a fortnight 
 
 to reach Stadacona, far beyond which he heard 
 
 there was "a great sea of fresh water, of 
 
 which there is no mention to have seen the 
 
 end." The way is not less well marked in 
 
 summer than in winter. Lio-ht-houses stand at 
 
 every bend, while buoys and light-ships, moored 
 
 in midstream, point out the channel. When 
 
 night has closed in, the twinkle of the far light 
 
 is reflected across the water for miles, broadening out at last into brilliant glare ; 
 
 beneath one gets a momentary glimpse of the black hull and square tower of a light- 
 
 HALI-ERKKU IISHKRMAN. 
 
 si*'- 
 
AND ClfARACTER 41 
 
 sliip, with weird shadov/s moving across \\\v. cheerful gleam from the cosy cabin. Uuge 
 Miick masses loom up suddenly and i,did(' past in silence. Long, snake-like monsters 
 arc left snorting astern. A group of water demons sing in wild chorus round a float- 
 ing blaze. All manner of strange stars flicker low down on the horizon, changing their 
 lines with sudden flashes. Everything is dim, shadow)' and weird, till, suddenly, the 
 moon bursts through the heavy clouds, shows the dull outline of the distant bank, 
 gleams white on the canvas of a passing ship, reveals the long string of deep-laden 
 barges following the sobbing tug, and dims the brightness of the raftsmen's fire. 
 
 Three Rivers dates far back in the history of French colonization in Canada. 
 On one of the islands at the mouth of the noble tributary which here enters the 
 St. Lawrence, Cartier, in 1534, planted a cross in the name of the King of I*" ranee. 
 In 1599 Pontgrave gave it the name of Riviere des Trois Rivieres, from the appearance 
 wliich two of the islands give it of being three separate streams ; Cartier had christened 
 it Riviere de I'^oie, from the Breton family of that name. Champlain and Pontgrave 
 ascended it as far as the first rapids, and a little later Champlain made the mouth of 
 tlic stream a rendezvous for the Hurons who joined him in his expedition against the 
 Irocpiois, the river being the highway of the tribes who came from the interior to 
 barter furs with the French traders, having been driven away from the St. Lawrence 
 by the Iroquois. Traces of an old Algonquin stockade that stood where the upper town 
 is now, and was destroyed before Champlain's time, were found when the boulevard 
 facing the St. Lawrence was made. 
 
 One of the Recollet fathers who came with Champlain in 161 5, celebrated the 
 first mass. Colonists came two years later, and a mission was founded. In 1634 
 a regular trading depot was established, as Pontgrave had proposed to do long before, 
 when Tadoussac was preferred by his superior Chauvin. I'or a long time this was the 
 extreme outpost of the French, and was held only by exceeding vigilance and bravery, 
 which more than once saved Quebec from imminent danger. In 1624 Champlain's 
 diplomacy brought together here one of the greatest assemblages of Indians ever 
 known upon the Continent, and secured a treaty of peace between Hurons, Algonquins, 
 Iroquois, and French. The Mohawks could not long resist the desire to use their 
 newly-acquired fire-arms furnished by the Dutch and English, and then followed the 
 bloody scenes which ended only with the arrival of the long prayed-for troops from 
 I* ranee in 1665. The Hurons and Algonquins were almost exterminated, and the 
 French were sore pressed. This was the heroic age of the colony so vigorously 
 described by Parkman. The fur-traders of Three Rivers bore their part in it well, 
 and when there was no more fighting to do their venturesome spirits found outlet in 
 the existing work of exploration, for with the establishment of Montreal the im- 
 portance of Three Rivers as a trading-post had begun to decline, and the necessity 
 of being farther afield, to say nothing of the half-wild nature of the courcuis de 
 
42 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAX LIFE 
 
 bois, led thcin on. The Miissionarics whose outpost, in the crusiulc ai^rainst Satan 
 and his Indian alHes, Three Rivers also was, had set them an ('xaniplc. Jean 
 Nicolet lived and died here, antl the old Chateau of the CJoxernors; in which 
 La X'erendraye lived, still stands. 
 
 Not far from the Chateau is the ori_i,dnal parish church, the oldest in Canada 
 
 INTKKIOK OK I'AKISH CHURCH. 
 
 except the one at Tadoussac. It has the oldest records, for those of Ouelicc were 
 burned in 1640. They bef^jin on I''ebruary 6th, i6;,5, in Pere Le Jeune's handwriting, 
 with the statement that M. de la Violette, sent by Champlain to found a habilation, 
 landed at Three Rivers on July 4th, 1634, with a party of French, mostly artizans, and 
 
AND ClfARACTER 
 
 43 
 
 iommenced the work ; that the Jesuits Le Jeune and Buteux came on the 8th of 
 Scptemb(.'r, to be with them for the salvation of their souls, and that several of them 
 died of scurvy during- the winter. The chapel of the Jesuit mission served till 1664, 
 when a wooden church, with presbytery, cemetery and garden, was built. I'ifty years 
 
 OLD CHLMNHV AND CHATEAU. 
 
 later the stone church that yet stands on a corner of the oUI parochial property was 
 erected ; it is an interestinj^r relic of a by-i^rone time, and its hallowc'd associations make 
 it for the devout Roman Catholic a place from which the grand new Cathedral canncjt 
 draw him. 
 
 The beauty of the rich oak carving which lines the whole interior was sadly 
 
44 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAX LIFE 
 
 destroyed by a spasm of cleanliness on the part of the authorities, who a few 
 years ag>j painted it white, but fortunately this style of renovation has not crone 
 farther, and the old paintings and sculpture, of which there is a profusion, remain 
 intact. The church is dedicated to the Immaculate Conception. 
 
 The curd and 
 the margnillicrs 
 form the fa- 
 briqiic, or admin- 
 istrative body of 
 the corporation 
 which every par- 
 ish constitutes. 
 The curia's share 
 in temporal mat- 
 
 ters is, however, limited to the 
 
 presidenc)- of all meetings, and 
 
 in this as well as in the keeping 
 
 of registers of civil status he is 
 
 a public officer, constrainable by 
 
 7nanda))iHs to the exercise of his 
 
 duties. He appoints the choristers, keeps the keys, and has the right to be buried 
 
 beneath the choir of the church, even in Quebec and Montreal, where interments 
 
 within the city limits are prohibited. 
 
 The parishes are designated in the first place by the bishop, and are then civilly 
 constituted by the Lieutenant-Governor on the report of five commissioners under the 
 Great Seal, after all parties have been heard. Being corporations, their powers are de- 
 fined, and exercise of them regulated by the civil law. The revenues are raised and 
 
AND CHARACTER 45 
 
 extraordinary expenses defrayed by assessment approved by general meetings. The 
 irimner in which the ciirt's are paid varies a good deal. They are legally entitled to 
 a tithe in kind, of one portion in twenty-six on all grain grown in the parish by Roman 
 Catholics, except upon lands newly-cleared, which are exempt for the first five years. The 
 lithe must be thrashed, winnowed, and put in the priest's barn. In many parts of the 
 Province, however, what is known as the supploncut — a money payment — takes the place 
 of, or is combined with, the tithe. 
 
 The St. Maurice Forges, on the right bank of the St. Maurice Ri\er. about seven 
 miles above Three Rivers, are the oldest smelting furnaces in Canada, and dispute 
 with those of Principio, in Maryland, the right to be considered the oldest in America. 
 The deposits of bog-ore were known very earh' to the Jesuits. In 1668 they were 
 examined by the Sieur la Potardien, who reported unfavourably to the Intendant Talon 
 as to their quantity and quality. Frontenac and Ue Denonville gave a better account 
 of them, and it seems that tests were made before the year 1700. It was not till 1737. 
 however, that a company wp' '^ound to work them. This company was granted a large 
 tract, including the site where the Old Forges now stand, and erected furnaces, but 
 exhausted its capital, and in i 740 had to surrender its charter. The Covernment carried 
 on the works very successfully, as a report of the Colonial Inspector Tranquet shows, 
 and must have extended them, as appears b)- the erection of the old Chateau that stands 
 on a flat bluff overlooking the river. On an iron plate in its chimney are the official 
 Jhurs dc lis and the date 1752. Its walls, some two and a half feet thick, withstood the 
 tire that destroyed its woodwork in 1863. 
 
 A brook fiows through the ravine immediately below the Chateau. It furnished 
 water-power for the oldest works, remains of which are to be seen near its mouth. The 
 attachments of an old shaft show that a trip-hammer was used, and there are other signs 
 of extensive works for making wrought iron. Vxom 250 to 300 men were employed, 
 under directors who had gained their skill in Sweden. Many of the articles made then — 
 notably stoves — still attest the quality of the iron and of the work. Pigs and bars were 
 sent to I'Vance. During the war, shot and shell were cast. When the iMiglish came to 
 take possession, the Chateau was occupied by a Demoiselle Poulin, who threw the keys 
 into the river rather than yield them. Legends of mysterious lights antl buried treasure 
 cling to the place. After the Conquest the works were leased to pri\ate persons, and 
 have passed through several hands before coming into those of the present owners, who 
 use most of the product in the manufacture of car-wheels at Three Rivers. 
 
 The original blast-furnace, or cupola — a huge block of granite masonry, thirty feet 
 s()uare at the base — is still used for smelting ; the fire has rarely been extinguished, 
 except for repairs, during the past 150 years. In a deep-arched recess is the "dam" 
 from which the molten metal is drawn into beds of sand, to cool into pigs. During the 
 time between "runs" or "casts" glowing slag is continually being drawn off. The 
 
 \k 
 
r' 
 
 FRENCir CANADIAX UFE 
 
 cupola is kept filled from the top with ore, broken limestone, and charcoal. TIk; latter 
 is made in immense kilns near the fortje, from wood furnished in abundance by the sur- 
 rounding forests. Against the volumes of white vapour from these kilns the old iron- 
 works stand out, gloomy and black with the smoke and grime of generations. The 
 limestone is obtained a short distance up the river, and th(; ore — dark-red spongy stuff, 
 yielding forty per cent, of iron — is brought in by the liabitans, who find it between two 
 beds of sand on land that yields no crops, so that they are only too glad to dig it up. 
 The works are surrounded by a little hamlet of workmen's cottages. An amphitheatre 
 of wooded hills surrounds the scene. These rise gradually to the left, and over them 
 
 I-AI.LS UK TlIK C ll.\Ll)li;i-;i:— NKAR (ILKHKC. 
 
 is seen the dark outline of the Laurcntian range, against which is s(?t th<' gleaming spire 
 of St. Mtienne Church. The lesser hills, across tile St. Maurice to the; right, an! t()|)ped 
 by Mount Carmel, and far up the stream the Shawenegan Mountains cons(jrt with the 
 Piles peaks. 
 
 There is, perhaps, nothing in Canada that mon; forcibly strikes the b'.nglish e\e than 
 the wild and sih-nt grandeur of our mighty rivers. Though onl\- ranking third among 
 the tributaries of the St. LawrtMice, the .St. Maurices is a noble stream. During spring 
 and early summer it becomes a raging flood fed l)y the nu'lting snow and rains of the 
 great north(;rn wat(?r-shed, and even when the parching lu-at of summer has dried up its 
 sources it remains a navigable stream nearly a c|uarter of a mile wide far above its mouth. 
 
AND CHARACTER 
 
 47 
 
 X, 
 
 J 
 
 -J 
 
 •J 
 
48 
 
 FREXCH CANADIAN LIFE 
 
 Far to the north, 220 miles from the St. Lawrence, this river rises in a net-work 
 of lakes and small water-courses, which feed also its elder brothers, the Ottawa and 
 the Saguenay. It pursues its tortuous way in a main direction nearly south, while 
 
 / vW 
 
 
 HEAD or SH/\\VENt:GAN FALLS. 
 
 the others diverge so widely to the west and east that their several dcbonchcments into 
 the St. Lawrence are divided by a space of more than three hundred miles. All the 
 upper part of the St. Maurice's traverses are unbroken wilderness, untrodden by the foot 
 of man, except the few Indians and trappers who yet represent the aboriginal occupants, 
 the Hudson's Hay voyagcurs and traders who still use this route as a means of access to 
 their remoter posts, and the lumberers whose camps and shanties have been already 
 pushed two hundred miles back into the interior, and the ring of whose axes is heard 
 at the head of every stream down which a saw-log can be floated in the freshets of the 
 
LVn CHARACTER 
 
 49 
 
 Sprin^,^ Nothing can be more lovely than the constantly varied and unexpected beauty 
 of the reaches of river, lake and stream, the water-falls, rapids, wild rocks, densely-wooded 
 hills and forest glades with which this wild region is filled. 
 
 One hundred miles from its mouth the river meets civilization at the foot of the 
 wild I'^dls of the "Tuque" (so called from the fancied resemblance of a hill in the 
 \icinity to the b'rench-Canadian head-gear of that name), in the form of a steamer which 
 
 traverses a stretch of sixty miles to the 
 " Piles," whence a railway to the front gives 
 the go-by to the formidable but picturesque 
 rapids and falls of the Lower St. Maurice. 
 The first of these is the Grais, so-called 
 because the old portage led across granite 
 rocks now occupied by a saw-mill and 
 all its unlovely litter of lumber, saw- 
 -L'lc/'i^ dust and slabs. Here the river 
 
 dashes itself over and through 
 enormous rocks, which cause twin 
 falls and a boiling rapid. A 
 few evergreens cling to t'le 
 rocks, and a low bench supports 
 a scant growth of bushes, but 
 above the river the tree-clad 
 heights rise in successive steps. 
 The unlimited water-power 
 has caused the place to be se- 
 lected as the headquarters of 
 one of the vast lumbering estab- 
 lishments whose chiefs are kings 
 in all but name. The proprietor 
 of this establishment is practically 
 king of tlu; St. Maurice. The 
 farmers, who compose the scant 
 population of the neighbourhood, 
 are dependent upon him for a 
 market and for supplies of all 
 the)'^ need from the outside world. Their crops are consumed by his horses and men, 
 and their sons and brothers find employment in his service. The village about the mill 
 is his property and thc! inhabitants are his servants. Hundreds of men and horses,' 
 under the direction of scores of foremen, labour for him through summer and winter, 
 
 LITTI.K SUAWKN'KGAN. 
 
50 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE 
 
 undergoing the severest toil and perilling their lives to carry out his behests. His 
 will is their law, his wages are their subsistence, and j)r()motion in his service is 
 their reward. Every foreman is chosen from the ranks of this great family. Should 
 one of them take service with a rival house, he can never return to his allegiance. 
 Great qualities of leadership are required for success in these vast enterprises, but if the 
 rule of the lumber king is despotic, it is also patriarchal and beneficent. 
 
 For some distance above the Grais settlements continue on both sides of the river, 
 but the stream itself is generally flanked by forest. High hills rise abruptly from its 
 edge, and the land is a succession of well-defined benches. Good soil is found in the 
 intervales of the tributaries, but some distance from the main river which in its course 
 through the mountains forms many rapids and falls. The grandest of these are the 
 Shawenegan Falls, twenty-four miles from Three Rivers. The river is narrowed between 
 two projecting points, and divided by a rocky island into two channels of equal volume. 
 The twin streams roll placidly for a while. Suddenly a swift rush begins, and their 
 tawny water breaks into tossing foam. The right branch comes down with more direct 
 course, dashed into white masses that rise, like fountains, perpendicularly into the air, 
 and scatter their glittering beads of spray in wild profusion. The left branch sweeps 
 round the island, and far up the narrow channel its stream can be seen, now reflecting 
 the banks like a mirror and now tumbling over steps of shelving rock which stand darkly 
 out of the variously-broken and lighted water. The play of colour from seal-brown to 
 shining white is magnificent, and doubtless suggested the Indian name Shawenegan, or 
 needlework, the "divers colours of needlework finely wrought." The left fall curves till 
 at right angles to the other, when, meeting, they press upon and past a rocky point 
 which stands out full against their united force when the water is low, but is swept by 
 the Spring fioods. Recoiling from its impetuous leaps against its adamantine barriers, 
 the torrent sweeps down another long incline between walls of rock into a capacious 
 bay, whose surface heaves as if with the panting of the water resting after its mad rush. 
 
 Into this bay enters the Shawenegan River, easily ascended by canoe, first through 
 elm glades and restful fiats, and then by sinuous turns between steep banks covered with 
 spruce and birch, till the Little Shawenegan Falls burst on the view in excjuisite loveliness. 
 
 In the quieter stretches of the St. Maurice there are many islands. These and the 
 banks of the stream are beautifully wooded even up difficult steeps, rising far above the 
 water's edge. Every here and there a mountain wall shadows the river, and breaks the 
 forest greens with the purple and golden glories of the shrubs that alone can find hold 
 upon its rugged face. Deep, gloomy gorges, through which come glimpses of a world 
 of hills, mark the entrances of tributary streams. The grandeur and loveliness intensifies 
 the mysterious solitude of the wilderness. Such is the country to which nearly three 
 hundred years ago the habitant first came. 
 
AiXD CI JAR ACT RR 
 
 QUEBEC— A GLIMPSE KKUM THE ULU CllY WALL. 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIl'E 
 
 53 
 
 Quebec: Historical and Descriptive. 
 
 QUEBEC 
 
 HISTORICAL REVIEW. 
 
 /^"COMPARATIVELY speaking;, Canada has not much of an historical past, but all 
 ^-^ that it has from Jaccjues Cartier's day clusters round this cannon-girt promon- 
 tory; not much of a present, but in taking stock of national outfit, Quebec should 
 count for something; — indeed, would count with any people. We have a future, and 
 with it that great red rock and the red-cross flag that floats over it are inseparably 
 bound up. 
 
 The glowing pages of Parkman reveal how much can be made of our past. A son 
 (if the soil like Le Moine, who has an hereditary right to be animated by the genius 
 /(>ct\ whose Boswell-like conscientiousness in chronicling everything connected with the 
 sacred spot deserves all honourable mention, may exaggerate the importance of the city 
 and the country, its past and its present. Hut truer far his extreme — if extreme it be — than 
 \ Oltaire's or La Pompadour's, and their successors' in our own day. The former thought 
 !• ranee well rid of "fifteen thousand acres of snow," with an appreciation of the subject 
 like unto his estimate of those " Juifs miserablcs" about whose literature the world was 
 ni)t likely to trouble itself much longer when it could get the writings of the French 
 I'hilosophcs instead. The latter heartily agreed with him, for — with Montcalm dead — 
 "at last the King will have a chance of sleeping in peace." To us it seems that the 
 nort which for a century and a half was the head-quarters of France in the New World, 
 the door by which she entered and which could be closed against all others, the centre 
 from which she aimed at the conquest of a virgin continent of altogether unknown extent, 
 
54 /'7x'/:\C7/ (■.l.\:i/)/,l.\' /.//'7: . /A7-' (//.IA'.I(77:A' 
 
 and from which her adventurous children set forth — lon^'-rohcul missionaries leadinuj the 
 way, trappers and solilitjrs foHowinj; — until they had estal)nslicd themselves at every 
 strat»!jfic point on lh(.' St. Lawrence, the (ireat Lakes, the ( )hio, and the Mississippi 
 from the I'alls of St. Anthony lo Xew Orleans, must always have historical and poetic 
 significance. The city anil the Province which for tin; next hundred and twenty years 
 ha\(' remain(.'d I*"rench in appearance and I'Vench to the core, yet have foui,dit repeatedly 
 and are ri.-ady to lii^ht a^^ain side \)y side; with the retl-coats of (ireat Britain the best 
 proof surel)' that men can i^nvc- of loyal alleij^iance ;— which prcser\e old Norman and 
 i5rclon customs and traits, and modes of thouL;ht and faith that the l\e\()liition has 
 sul)m."rL;('d in the l''rance of iheir fore-fathers, fondly nursing- the seveiiteciuh century in 
 th(' lap of the ninet(;enth, must, perhaps l)e)()nil any other spot in North Aim;rica, have 
 an interest for the artist and the statesman. 
 
 In the sixteenth ccntur\' the L,fallant I'Vancis I. made sexcn attempts to j^ive I'Vance 
 a share in that wonderful New World which Columhus had disclosed to an unhelievinL; 
 jreneration. hut like his attempts in other ilirections the)' came to nothinj^-. in 15^5 he 
 put three liltU; vessels under the orders of Jaccjues Cartier, a skilful naviiL,fator. a pious 
 ami l)ra\e man, well worthy of the patent of nobility which he afterwards reci-ived, instruct- 
 ing him to proceed uj) the hro.id water-way he had discovered the _\-eiir before, until he 
 reached the Indies. llis duties were to win new realms for Mother Church, as a 
 comptMisation for thosi; sin; was losini^ thr()UL;h Lullu;ran antl Calvinistic heresies, and to 
 brin^' back his schooners full of yellow j^old and ros\- pearls. Thus would his labours 
 redound to the glory of Ciod and the _i;()()d of brance. Jactpies Cartier crossi'd the 
 ocean and saili^d up the mat^nificent water-wa), piously j^ivint,'' to it the name of the saint 
 on whose fete-day he had first entered its wide-extendetl port.ds. bor luuulreds of mik^s 
 the ri\er kept its threat breadth, more likt; a sea than a rixer, till thi' hun'e bluff of 
 Quebec, seen from afar, ap])ear(;d to close it abruptly at.,'ainst farther advance. \W mi-aiis 
 of this bluff thrust into tin; str(;am antl tin.' opposite point of Levis stretchini;- out to meet 
 it, the view is actually narrowet! to three cpiarters of a mile. Coasting' up between the 
 north shore and a larL,^(; beautiful island, he came, on the 14th of September, to the 
 mouth of a little tribular)-, which he called the .Ste, Croix, from the fete celebratetl on 
 that da\'. Here he cast anchor, for now the time had come to laiul antl mak(; intpiiries. 
 It nei'tled no ])rophet to tell that the |)f)wer which held that dark retl bluff would hold the 
 ke\- to the country bejond. The nati\es, with thinr chief Donnacona, patklled out in 
 their birch-bark canoes to t,''aze upon tlu; strange \isitants who had - in s^reat white-winded 
 castles surel)- swooped down upon them from another worltl. Cartier treatetl them kindly. 
 They willinL;l\" guided him throui^h the primeval forest to their town on the banks ot 
 the little river, antl to the sununit of the rock untler tin; shatlow of which the\' hatl built 
 their \vitr\vams. What a landscapi; for an explorer to i^^aze upon I Shore and forest bathed 
 in the mellow light of the September sun for forty miles up and down both sides ol 
 
QUfiiiEC: HISTORIC A r. A.YP Dnsciarrn'F. 
 
 55 
 
 I'lR' j^Horious stream! Wealth enoiijL,fh there to satisfy even a kinj^f's pilot and captain- 
 .general. Between the siininiit and thi- river far heh)\v he may have seen amid th(.' shite 
 ilu; jrhtter of the quart/ crystals from which the rock afterwards received its name of 
 (ape Diamond. Certainly, on his n<-.\t voyaji^e he j^^athered specimens from Cap Rouge. 
 Hut the great attraction must have been the river itself, (lowing past with the tribute of 
 an unknown continent. Its green waters swept round the feet of vhe mighty Cape, lie 
 could cast a stone into the current, for at high tide it rolled right up to the base of the 
 rock. The narrow strip of land that now extends between rock and river, crowded with 
 the houses of Champlain Street, was not there then. The street has been won from the 
 waters and the rock by man, whose greed for land even the boundless spaces of the New 
 
 .\RKi\Ai. ur .iAt(,)ri;s cakiii.k ai si ahacona. 
 
 \\ Orld cannot satisfy. The ground tliat slopi-d down to the Ste. Croi.x, at the mouth of 
 which his vessels lay at anchor, was covered with tlie finest hard-wood trees — walnuts, oaks, 
 ilins, ashes, and maples — and among these the bark-cabins of Uonnacona's tribe could be 
 seen. They called their town Stadacona. To this day no name is more popular with the 
 ]i(Ople of Quebec. Any new enterprise that may be projected, from a skating-rink to 
 a bank or steamship compan\', prefers Stadacona to an\' other name. 
 
 All tlu; wav down to CaiJ Tourmente and round the horizon formed b\- the hr-clothed 
 summits of the Laurentides that enclosed the wide-e.xtended-landscape, an unbroken forest 
 ranged. The picture, seen from the Citadel on Cape Diamond to-day, is as fair as the 
 eye can desire to see. The sun shines on the glittering roofs of Quebec, and the 
 continuous village of clean white houses extending miles down to the white riband of 
 
56 FREXC/f CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 Montmorency, and on cultivatetl fields riinnini^ up into still unbroken wilderness, and 
 on the broad river basin enclosing the island, in the forest (blades of which wild i^rapes 
 grew so luxuriantly that Cartier enthusiastically called it Isle of Bacchus. But then 
 it was in all its virgin glory, and Cartier's soul swelled with the emotions of a discoverer, 
 with exultation and boundless hope. Did it not belong to him, did it not almost owe 
 its existence to him ? And he was giving it all to God ami to 1'" ranee. 
 
 Donnacona told the strangers of a far greater town than his, many days' journey 
 up the river. So Cartier placed his two largest vessels within the mouth of the Ste. 
 Croix, or the .St. Charles, as the Recollets called it in the next century, and pursued his 
 way, overcoming the obstacles of St. Peter's Lake, to Hochelaga. The natives there 
 received him as if he were a god, bringing fish and corn-cakes, and throwing them into 
 the boats in such profusion that they seemed to fall through the air like rain or snow. 
 Cartier could not help falling in love with the country. The palisaded town nestling under 
 the shadow of Mount Royal was surrounded by fertile fields. Autumn showered its 
 crimson and gold on the forests, turning the mountain into an immense picture suspended 
 high in air, glowing with a wealth of colour that no European painter would dart- 
 to |)ut on canvas. The river swept on, ; .'o miles wide, with a contjuering force that 
 indicated vast distances be}ond, new realms waiting to be discovered. All the way back 
 to Quebec the mar\ellous tints of the forest, and the sweet air and rich sunsets of a 
 Canadian autumn accompanied the happy PVenchmen. Mad they now turned thtnr prows 
 homeward, what pictures of the neu' country would they have held up to wondering 
 listeners ! Nothing could have prevented I'Vance from precipitating itself at once upon 
 Canada. But the natives, accustomed to the winters, uttered no note of warning to the 
 strangers, and therefore, although Cartier rejoined his comrades at Quebec on the iith 
 of October, he delayed till the ice-king issued his " z/^- exeat." Then he and they soon 
 learned that the golden shield had another side. 
 
 To Canadians, ^vlnter is simply one of the four seasons. The summer and autumn 
 suns ripen all the crops that grow in England or the north of Erance, and. in no tem- 
 perate climate is more than one crop a year expected. The frost and snow of winter are 
 hailed in their turn, not only as useful friends but as ministers to almost all the amuse- 
 ments of the year — the sleighing, skating, snow-shoeing, ice-boating, tol)ogganning — tiiat 
 both sexes and all classes delight in. The frost does much of our subsoil ploughing. 
 Snow is not only the best possible mulch, shading and protecting the soil at no cost, but 
 its manurial \alue gi\es it the nanu! of " the poor man's manure." The ice bridges our 
 lakes and rivers. A good snow-fall means roads without tiu-' trouble of road-n.aking, 
 not only to kirk and market, but through thick woods, over cradle-hills, and awa\' into 
 the lumber regions. An insufficient supply of snow and ice is a national calamit)' ; and 
 excess can never l)e so bad as the pall that covers England and Scotland half the \(w: 
 and makes the people "take their pleasures sadly." 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AXD PESCRIPTH'E 
 
 :>/ 
 
 But, we are prepared for winter. Jacques Cartier was not, and very heavily its hand 
 fell upon him, as it did subsequently on Champlain when he first wintered at Quebec. 
 How heavily, we are in a position to estimate from readinjj the harrowinj^ descriptions 
 of the sufferings endured by the people of London in January 1881, in consequence of 
 a snow-fall of some twelve inches. One periodical describes the scene under the title of 
 " Moscow in London," and soberly asserts that " to have lived in London on Tuesday, 
 the i8th January, 1881, and to have survived the experience, is something which any man 
 is justified in remembering, and which ought to justify occasional boasting of the fact." 
 Another declares that a few more such snow-storms would " render our life and civilization 
 impossible;" that in such a case there could be only "an Esquimaux life, not an English 
 life;" that "a transformation of the rain into these soft white crystals which at first sight 
 seem so much less aggressive than rain is all that is needed to destroy the whole struc- 
 ture of our communications, whether in the way of railway, telegraph, or literature;" 
 and sadly moralises over the fact that this is sure to come about in time from the pre- 
 cession of the equinoxes. Bathos such as this indicates fairly enough the wonderful 
 ignorance of the facts and conditions of Canadian life that reigns supreme in educated 
 English circles. Canadians fancy that their civilization is English. Those of us who are 
 practically acquainted with the conditions of life in England are pretty well agreed that 
 where there are points of difference the advantage is on our side. Not one man in a 
 thousand in Canada wears a fur coat, or an overcoat of any kind heavier than he would 
 have to wear in the mother country. We have ice-houses, but do not live in them. .Societ)' 
 shows no signs of approximating to the Esquimaux type. We skim over the snow more 
 rapidly than a four-in-hand can travel! in England when the best highway is at its best. 
 A simple contrivance called a snow-plough clears the railway track for the trains, tossing 
 the snow to the right and left as triumphantly as a ship tosses the spray from its bows. 
 We telegraph and telephone, use cabs and busses, and get our mails — from Halifax to 
 Sarnia — with "proofs" and parcels about as regularly in winter as in summer. Incredible 
 as all this must sound to those who have shivered under the power of one snow-storm 
 and a few degrees of frost, there is a certain humiliation to a Canadian in dcscibing 
 what is so entirely a matter of course. He is kept from overmuch wonder by remembering 
 that the people of Western Canada, in spite of i)ractical acquaintance with snow-ploughs, 
 o[jposed for years the construction of the Intercolonial Railway because they strenuously 
 maintained that it would be blocked up all the winter with ice and snow. 
 
 We are accustomed to our environment. Cartier's men were not ; and reference has 
 been made to recent experiences in England to help us to understand what horrors those 
 |K)or fellows from sunny France endured throughout an apparently endless winter, cooped 
 lip in the coldest spot in all Canada. " From the middle of November to the i8th of April 
 the ice and snow shut us in," says their captain. Ice increased upon ice. Snow fell 
 upon snow. The great river that no power known to man could fetter, was bound fast. 
 
58 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 Everything froze. The breath that came from their mouths, the very blood in their 
 veins, seemed to freeze. Night and day their limbs were benumbed. Thick ice formed 
 on the sides of their ships, on decks, masts, cordage, on everything to which moisture 
 attached itself. Snow wreathed and curled in at every crevice. Every tree had its load. 
 A walk in the woods was an impossibility, and there was nowhere else to walk. Confined 
 within their narrow domain, and living on salted food, scurvy seized upon the helpless 
 
 TKIUMI'H OK TUK SNOW-l'I.OUdH. 
 
 prisoners. What was to be done ? Cartier had recourse to heaven, receiving, however, 
 the same minimum of practical answer that was given by Hercules to /Esop's waggoner. 
 A modern writer of scrupulous accuracy describes naively the appeal and its bootlessness : 
 " When eight were dead and more than fifty in a helpless state, Cartier ordered a solemn 
 religious act which was, as it were, the first public e.xercise of the Catholic religion in Can- 
 ada, and the origin of those processions and pilgrimages which have since been made in 
 honour of Mary, to claim her intercession with God in great calamities. Seeing that the 
 disease had made such frightful ravages he set his crew to prayer, and made them carry 
 an image or statue of the Virgin Mary over the snow and ice, and caused it to be placed 
 against a tree about an arrow's (light away from the fort. He also commanded that on 
 the following Sunday mass should b(; sung in that ])lace and before that image, and that 
 all those who were able to walk, whether w(;ll or ill, should go in the procession — 
 'singing the seven penitential Psalms of Uavid, with the Litany, praying the \'irgin to 
 entreat her dear Son to have pity upon us.'" On that day mass was celebrated 
 
QURHRC: HISTORICAL AND DRSCRIPTIVE 59 
 
 before the image of Mary, even chanted, Cartier tells us; apparently the first occasion 
 of a high mass in Canada. At the same time Cartier gave another special proof of his 
 vivid and tender trust in Mary — promising to make a pilgrimage in her honour to Roque- 
 madour, should he be spared to return to France. " Nevertheless, that very day, Philip 
 Rougemont, a native of Amboise, twenty years old, died ; and the disease became so 
 general that of all who were in the three ships there were not three untouched, and in 
 one of the ships there was not one man who could go into the hold to draw water for 
 himself or the others." Despair fell upon the poor wretches. They gave up hope of 
 ever seeing France again. Cartier alone did not despair, and the dawn followed the 
 darkest hour. One of the Indians told him of "the most exquisite remedy that ever 
 was," a decoction composed of the leaves and bark of the white spruce. He administered 
 the medicine without stint, and in eight days the sick were restored to health. And now 
 the long cruel winter wore away. The icy fetters relaxed their grip of land and river. 
 Tnder warm April suns the sap rose, thrilling the dead trees into life. Amid the melting 
 snow, green grasses and dainty star-like flowers sprang up as freely as in a hot-house. 
 Cartier prepared to depart, first taking possession of Canada, however, by planting in 
 th(; fort "a beautiful cross" thirty-five feet high, with the arms of France embossed on 
 the cross-piece, and this inscription, " FriDuiscus Primus, Dei gratia, Francormii rex, 
 regnat." Then, treacherously luring Donnacona on board ship, that he might present the 
 Ring of Stadacona to the King of France, he set sail for .St. Malo. Nothing came of 
 this, the second voyage of Cartier, and little wonder. What advantages did Canada 
 offer to induce men to leave home ! What tales could the travellers tell save of black 
 forests, deep snow, thick ice, starving Indians, and all-devouring scurvy! But Cartier 
 was not discouraged, and six years afterwards Francis resolved to try again. Roberval 
 was commissioned to found a permanent settlement. He sent Cartier ahead and Cartier 
 tried at Cap Rouge, above Quebec, the Indians of .Stadacona naturally enough not making 
 him welcome. But the experiment diil not succeed. The time had not come. Nearly a 
 century was to pass away before the true father of New France — the founder of Quebec — 
 would appear. 
 
 On the 3d of July, 1608, Samuel de Champlain planted the white flag of France 
 on the site of Quebec. The old village of Stadacona had disappeared, and there was no 
 one to dispute possession with the new comers. With characteristic promptitude Cham- 
 plain set his men to work to cut down trees and saw them into lumber for building, to 
 ilig drains and ditches, to pull up the wild grape-vines which abounded, to prepare the 
 iMound for garden seeds, or to attend to the commissariat. Fvery one had his work to 
 lio. The winter tried him as it had tried Cartier. The dreaded scurvy attacked his 
 lollowers. Out of twenty-eight only eight survived, and tlu;se were disfigured with its 
 fell marks. The next year he decideil to ally himself with the Algonquins and Hurons 
 against the b'ive Nations. It may have been impossible for him to have remained neu- 
 
6o 
 
 FREXCH CANADIAX LIFF. AM) CIIARACTFR 
 
 tral, though the example of tlie Dutch at Albany indicates that it was possible. Certainly 
 the step plunged the infant colony into a sea of troubles for a centur}'. It took the 
 sword and was again and again on the point of perishing b\' the tomahawk. 
 
 This man Champlain, soldier, sailor, engineer, geographer, naturalist, statesman, with 
 the heart ami soul of a hero, was the founder of New I'Vance. He had gained distinc- 
 tion in the wars of the League; in the West Indies he first proposed that ship canal 
 
 across the Isthmus of Panama which another 
 Frenchman — as unconquerable as he — was 
 later on destined to commence; and sub- 
 sequentl)' he had spent years exploring and 
 attempting settlements around the ruggeil 
 Atlantic shores of Acadie and New England. 
 From the day that he planted the lilies of 
 France at the foot of Cape Diamond to 
 the day of his death, on Christmas, 1635, 
 he devoted himself to the infant colony, 
 livetl for it and kept it alive, in spite of 
 enemi(;s at home and abroad, and dis- 
 couragenuMits enough to have shaken any 
 resolve but that of courage founded upon 
 faith. Right under the beetling cliff, be- 
 tween the ]:)resent Champlain Market and 
 the (piainl old church oi Notre Dame des 
 Victoires, Champlain determined to build 
 his city. His first work was to prepare 
 the ground for garden seeds, and wlieal 
 and rye. He saw from the first, what \\v 
 ne\er could get an\- one else in authoritx 
 to see, that the existence of the colon)', as 
 anything more than a teniporar\ fin--tratlin>; 
 post, ilepemletl on its being able to raise- its 
 own food. The Company with which In 
 was associated could not see this, because they had gone into the enterprise with \er\ 
 different motiv(;s from those that animated Champlain. When we ha\e no desire to see. 
 we |)ut the telesco|)e to our blintl e\e antl declare that there is nothing to be seen. 
 I'^ver)' cieature acts accortling to its instincts, and to the rule fur-trailing companies an 
 no exception. Cive them a monop'.)iy and instinct becomes consecratetl by laws 
 human and Divine. The welfare of the Compan\- becomes the supreme law. At tin 
 beginning of this centur\ the North-West Company thought it right to stamp out ii. 
 
 CHAMri.AIN. 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AXP DESCR/PT/rE 
 
 6i 
 
 NOTkK liAMI DI.S \1( lOIKl.S. 
 Siu- 111' i_)iij;iiial (.iiv. 
 
 \ 
 
 blootl aiul [wv th(t patriotic efforts to colonize 
 Assiniboia iiKule In' a Scottish iioMcman, who 
 _ ^ ' ^ '' lixi'd half a ccntur\- before' his time. Subse- 
 
 (luently the two hundred ami sixtx-eii^ht share- 
 holders of the Hudson's I)a\- Conipan)- felt justit'ied in keepiiii^- half a continent as a 
 preserve for Jjuffalo and beaxer. How could better things be expected in the se\en- 
 ti-enth century from the monopolies of I )e Chastes or 1 )e Monts, the merchants of St. 
 ^bdo, Rouen, Dieppe, La Rochelle ; or even from the Compan\- of the One Huntlred 
 \ssociates organized b}- Richelieu ? TradiiiL;- interests were supreme with one and all. 
 I hose who cl.imoureil for free tratle clamoured only for a share of the nionopoh. Thi- 
 nipirt; is perpetually at war, and the soldier j^ets the blame, perhaps the aristocracy, 
 Iiould Mr. Bright be the speaker; but the real culprit is the trader. Our jealousy 
 ' Russia and our little wars all the world over ha\e trade interests as their source 
 
62 FREXCir CANADIAh' LIFE AND a/ARACTER 
 
 and inspiration. In the seventeenth century, Canadian trade meant supplies to the 
 Indians in exchange for pehries, and money spent on anything else seemed to the 
 One Hundred Associates and their servants money thrown away. 
 
 Not so thought Champlain. I'"ortunately, he was too indispensable a man to 
 be recalled, though it was legitimate to oppose, to check, to thwart his projects 
 whenever they did not promise direct returns to the Comjjany. Chamijlain aimed 
 at founding an empire, and every great empire must be based on farming. Therefore 
 when, in 1617, he brought the erstwhile apothecary, Louis Hebert, to Quebec, he 
 did more for the colony than when he brought the Recollets and Jesuits to it. 
 And let this be said with no depreciation of the labours of the gray robes and black 
 robes. Hebert was the first who gave himself up to the task of cultivating the 
 soil in New France, and the first head of a family resident in the country who lived 
 on what he cultivated. His son-in-law Couillard walked in the same good path, the 
 path first trodden by "the grand old gardener and his wife." No matter how soldiers, 
 sailors, fur-traders and priests might come and go, the farmer's children held on to 
 the land, and their descendants hold it still. They increased and multiplied so mightily 
 that there are few French families of any anti(juity in Canada who cannot trace 
 their genealogy by some link back to that of Louis Hebert. Hebert and Couillard 
 .Streets, streets quainter and more expressive of the seventeenth century than any to be 
 seen now in St. Malo, commemorate their names. One of their descendants informed 
 the writer that those streets run where the first furrows were ploughed in Canada, prob- 
 ably in the same way that some of tlu' streets in Boston are said to meander along the 
 paths made by the cows of the first inhabitants. Had others followed Hebert's example 
 the colony would not havt; been so long suspended bt'tween life and d(!ath, and Cham- 
 plain coukl have held out against the Huguenot Kerkts in 1629. But the; Company, far 
 from doing anything to encourage the few tillers of the ground, did ever)thing to dis- 
 courage them. All grain raised had to be sold at a price fixed by the Company, and 
 the Company alone had the power of buying. Of course th(; Heberts and Couillards 
 ought to ha\e been grateful that there was a Company to buy, for what could farmers 
 do without a market ? 
 
 Of Champlain's labours it is unnecessary to speak at length. Twenty times he crossed 
 tht; Atlantic to fight for his colony, though it was a greater undertaking to cross the 
 Atlantic then than to go round the world now. He may be called the founder of Mon- 
 treal as well as of Quebec. I'irst of luiropeans he sailed up the Richelieu, giving to the 
 beautifid river the name of the Companj's great patron. He discovered Lake Cham 
 plain. He first ascendetl the Ottavva, crossed to Lake Xi(Mssing, and came down by \.\\v 
 valley of tlu; Trent to what he calleil "the fresh wat(;r sea" of Ontario. He secureil 
 the alliance of all the Indian tribes — the confederac)' of the V'wv Nations (;xcept»,'d --b\ 
 treaties which lasted as long as the white flag floated over the castle of .St. Louis, and 
 
QUEBliC: inSTORICAL AND DESCRlPm'E 
 
 63 
 
 which laid tho founthitinn of the friendship that has existed between every Canadian 
 L;()\(rniiiciU and the old sons and lords of tlu; soil. D'Arcy McCice, in one of those 
 addresses that made learned and iiidearned feel what is the potency and oinnipotenc) 
 of man's word on tlu; souls of men, thus sketched his moral (jualilies and ama/inj; 
 Ncrsalilit}' : - " lie was hraxe almost 
 lo rashness. lie would cast himself 
 with a single European follower in 
 the midst of savage enemies, and 
 more than once his life was endan- 
 t;cred b\' th(; excess (jf his coiitidence 
 and his couraL;'(^ lie was eminently 
 social m Ins liahits- witness his or- 
 der of /(■ boil toiips. in which t;ver\- 
 man of his associates was for one 
 day host to all his comrades. lie 
 was sanguine, as liecame an adxcn- 
 turer ; and self-denying', as became a 
 
 MOLMAIN im.i.. 
 
 I'loiii t(i|i of Hii;il.-T ( ( I St.iii-. 
 
 hero. . . Ill' touched the 
 extremes ot human ex|)eri- 
 ence amoiii,; ilixcrse characters and nations. 
 ,\t one time he skt'lched plans of ci\ili/ed 
 a_L;<;randi/emeiu for Henry 1\'. and Richelieu; 
 at another, he planned schemes of wild war- 
 f;ire with Huron chiefs antl .Mi^oiupiin bra\cs. 
 He united in a most rare decree the faculties 
 of action anil retlection, and like all hij^hly- 
 retleclixc minds, his thoughts, Ioul;' cherished 
 in secn.'t, ran ofti-n into the mould of max- 
 ims, somi' of which wouKl form the fittest 
 possibU; inscriptions to bt; engraven ui)on 
 his monument. When the merchants ot 
 
64 
 
 FRENCH CAN.AD/AN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 Quebec grumbled at the cost of fortifying that place, he said, ' It is best not to obey 
 the passions of men ; they are but for a season ; it is our duty to regard the future.' 
 With all his love of good-fellowship, he was, what seems to some inconsistent with it, sin- 
 cerely and enthusiastically religious. Among his maxims are these two — that 'the salvation 
 of one soul is of more value than the conquest of an empire;' and that 'kings ought 
 not to think of extending their authority over idolatrous nations, except for the purpose of 
 subjecting thtm to Jesus Christ.'" The one mistake made by Champlain has already been 
 referred to. He attacked the Irocjuois, whereas he should have conciliated them at any 
 cost or remained neutral in all Indian wars. His mistake was not so much intellectual 
 as moral. It was a crime and — paic Talleyrand — worse than a blunder. But it is not 
 pleasant to refer to the errors of such a man. Well may Quebec commemorate his name 
 and virtues. Let us not forget, when we walk along the quaint, narrow, crowded street 
 that still bears his name, or clamber "Break-neck Stairs" from Little Champlain Street 
 
 to reach Durham Terrace, where he built the 
 Chateau of St. Louis and doubtless often gazed, 
 with hope and pride in his eyes, on a scene 
 like to which there are few on this earth, how 
 much Canada owes to him ! Well for those 
 who follow him where all may follow — in un- 
 selfishness of purpose, in unflinching valour, and 
 in continence of life. No monument points out 
 his last resting-place, for, strange to .say, " of all 
 French governors interred within the enceinte, 
 he is the only one of whose place of sepulture 
 we are ignorant."* The registers of Quebec 
 were destroyed in the great conflagration of 
 1640. Thus it happens that we have not the 
 account of his burial. M. Dionne shows that in 
 all probability the remains were first deposited 
 in the chapel of Notre Dame de la Recouvrance ; then in a vault of masonry in the 
 chapel built by his successor in the Governorship, whence they were removed by the 
 authorities to the Basilica. Champlain needs no monument, least of all in Quebec. 
 The city is his monument. 
 
 Most religious Quebec was from the first under the influence of Champlain ; most 
 religious is it in appearance to this day. There are churches enough for a city with five 
 times the present population. EcLlcsiastical establishments of one kind or another occupy 
 the lion's share of the space within the walls. At every corner the soutaned ecclesiastic 
 meets you, moving along quietly, with the confidence of one who knows that his foot is 
 
 * "Etudes Historiques," par M. DiONNE. 
 
 PRESCOTT GATE. 
 
 Now removed, guarded the approach lo the Upper Town by 
 .Mountain Hill. 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTH'E 65 
 
 (111 his native heath. It was the same with the cities of France in the seventeenth cen- 
 tury : but it is not so now. Things have changed there. The Revolution made the Old 
 World New. In Quebec the New World clings to the garments of the Old. Champlain 
 first induced the Recollet friars to come to his aid. The Jesuits, then at \\\v height of 
 their power in France, followed. The Company disliked missionaries almost as much as 
 it disliked farmers. "They tolerated the poor Recollets," says Ferland, "but they dreaded 
 the coming of the Jesuits, who had powerful protectors at Court and who could through 
 them carry their complaints to the foot of the throne." Consequently, when the first 
 (Iftachment of Jesuits arrived they found every door shut against them, and if the Re- 
 collets had not ofTered them hospitality they would have been obliged to return to 
 France. 
 
 Magnificent missionaries those first Jesuits were ; more devoted men never lived. The 
 names especially of Charles Lallemant and Jean de Brebeuf are still sacred to thousands 
 of French-Canadian Roman Catholics. Two things the Jesuits felt the colony must have 
 — a school for the instruction of girls, and a hospital for the sick. These institutions 
 they desired for the sake of the colonists, most of whom were poor, but still more for 
 the sake of the Indians. The Fathers had left France to convert the Indians; on that 
 work their hearts were set, and they gave themselves to it with a wisdom as great as 
 their self-sacrifice. Protestant missionaries, as a class, are only now learning to imitate 
 their methods of procedure, especially with regard to the establishment of hospitals and 
 the acquisition of a perfect knowledge of the language and modes of thought of the 
 people whose conversion they seek. What Livingstone did in South Africa when he cut 
 himself loose from all the other missionaries who kept within reach of the comforts of 
 the colony, and plunged into the thick of the native tribes beyond ; what the Canadian 
 missionary Mackay did eight years ago in F"ormosa with such brilliant success, the Jesuits 
 always did. Their first task was to master the language. Grammatical knowledge, 
 they knew, was not enough. They lived in the wigwams of the wretched, filthy no- 
 mads, travelled with them, carrying the heaviest loads, and submitted to cold and heat, 
 to privations, and the thousand abominations of savage life, without a murmur. They 
 cared for the sick, and, expecting little aid from the old, sought to educate the young. 
 Charlevoix tells us how they succeeded in establishing in Quebec both the Hotel Dieu and 
 the Ursuline Convent. Madame la Duchesse D'Aiguillon, the niece of Richelieu, undertook 
 to found the first. To carry out her pious project she applied to the hospital nuns of Dieppe. 
 I hese hoh' women accepted with joy the opportunity of sacrificing all that they counted 
 dear in the world for the service of the sick poor of Canada; all offered themselves, 
 all asked with tears to be admitted to share in the work." About the same time Madame 
 dc la Peltrie, a widow of a good family, resolved to found the Convent of the Ursu- 
 lines. She devoted all her fortune to give a Christian education to the girls of the 
 colonists and of the Indians, and followed up these sacrifices by devoting herself to the 
 
66 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 ■cj^^l 
 
 ^^ • ' 
 
 ■ - Mk 1 
 
 % 
 
 
 
 li^ L 
 
 
 IN THE GARDENS OK THK UkSULINE CONVENT. 
 
 work. Young, rich, beauti- 
 ful, she renounced all ad- 
 vantages and prospects for 
 what then must have lieen 
 a worse than Siberian exile. 
 At Fours, among the Ursu- 
 line nuns, she found Marie 
 de rincarnation, who be- 
 came the first Mother .Su- 
 perior of the new convent, 
 and " Marie de St. Joseph, 
 whom New I'Vance regards 
 as one of its tutelar)- 
 angels." On the fourth of 
 May, 1639, she embarked 
 with three hospital nuns, 
 three l^rsulines, and Pere 
 V^imond, and on the first 
 of July they arrived at 
 Quebec. The length of the 
 voyage, not to refer to its 
 discomforts, reminds us of 
 the difference between cross- 
 ing the Atlantic then and 
 now. All Quebec rejoiced 
 on their arrival. Work 
 ceased, the shops were shut, 
 and the town was en /tic. 
 " The Governor received 
 the heroines on the river's 
 bank at the head of his 
 troops with a discharge ol 
 cannon, and after the first 
 com])liments he led them, 
 amid the acclamations of 
 the people, to church, where 
 Te Deums were chanted 
 as a thanksgiving." From 
 that day till her death, 
 
QUEIUiC: IflSTORfCAL AM) PRSCRirTll'F. 67 
 
 thirty-two years after, Madame cle la I'eltrie gave herself up to the work she had 
 uiulertakeii. Mere Marie de I'lncarnation, whose fervent piet)- and spirituality of 
 cliaracter jrained her the name of the; Stc rher(;sa of New I*" ranee, died a year after her. 
 These two women lived in an atmosphere so different from ours, that it is extremely 
 (litticult for us to judj^^e them. Both have been condenin('d, the owe. as an unnatural 
 mother, the other as a disobedient dau_t,diter. They believed they were sacrificinjr the 
 claims of nature to the superior claim of their Saviour. Certainly, their works have 
 followed them. The j^^reat Ursuline Convent of Quebec, to which hundreds of girls are 
 sent to be educated from all parts of the continent, is their monument. The buildings 
 have been repeatedly destroyed by lire, but have always been replaced by others more 
 expensive and substantial, the community apparently delighting to testify its sense of the 
 value of the work done by the devoted Sisters. Within their spacious grounds, in the 
 heart of the city, are various buildings, one for boarders, among whom to this day are 
 daughters of Indian chiefs; another for day scholars; a normal school; a school for the 
 poor; a chapel and choir, and nuns' cpiarters ; with gardens, j)la)' and pleasure grounds 
 for the youthful inmates, and summer and winter promenades — all elocpient with the 
 memories of the pious founder, who had not disdained to toil in the garden with her 
 own hand. To each generation of susceptible minds the lives of Mme de la Peltrie and 
 Mere Marie are held up for imitation, and no honour is grudged to their memories. 
 
 Not only religious, but charitable and moral, was Quebec under the administration 
 of Champlain and his successors. Ferland cites the registers of Notre Dame of Quebec 
 to show that out of 664 children baptised between 1621 and 1661, only one was illegiti- 
 mate. Still, the colony did not prosper ; again and again it was on the point of extinc- 
 tion at the hands of the Iroquois. The Company sat upon its agricultural and indus- 
 trial development like the old man of the sea. In 1663 the population of New TVance 
 consisted of only two thousand souls, scattered along a thin broken line from Tadoussac 
 to Montreal. Of this small total Quebec claimed 800. At any moment a rude breath 
 would have killed the colony, but now favouring gales came from Old France. Louis 
 Xl\'. determined to suppress the Company, and bring Canada under his own direct 
 authority. He constituted by direct appointment a Sovereign Council to sit in Quebec, 
 immediately responsible to himself, the principal functionaries to be the Governor-Gene- 
 ral, the Royal Intendant, and the Bishop, each to be a spy on the other two. The 
 Governor-General believed himself to be the head of the colony ; he formed the apex 
 of the governmental pyramid. But the Intendant, who was Chief of Justice, Police, 
 Finance, and Marine, understood that the King looked to him, and that the colony was 
 in his hands, to be made or marred. The Bishop, again, knew that both Governor- 
 General and Intendant would have to dance according as he pulled the wires at Court. 
 Talon, the first Intendant who arrived in Quebec, was the ablest who ever held the 
 position. Talon was a statesman, a pupil of Colbert, and in some respects in advance 
 
68 rR/:.\X// CANAD/IX f./F/i .l.\7> CILIRACTER 
 
 of his j^rrcat master. lie iirj^cd iininijrration as a means o{ eiisurinj^f to I'rance the pos- 
 session of the New World. Colhert, with the wisdom of the sevt-nte'cnth rentiiry, ri-plii'il 
 that it would not he priiilent to depopulate the kinj^rdom. " .Secure New Ndrk." Talon 
 urj^ed. "and the ij^reat i^ame will he j^ained for I'ranee." When that step was not taken 
 he projected a road to .\eadie,— which it was left to our dax, 1)\' the construction of tin 
 Interc lonial Railway, to carry out, and thus to !j[i\<' to Canada indispensable winter 
 ports, lie pusheil discover)' in every direction, selectinij liis men with mar\cllous saj^acit). 
 L nder his direction, St. Simon and La Coutun- reached llutlson's Hay 1)\' the valley ol 
 the .Sa<.juenay ; I'ere Druilletes, the Atlantic seaboard l)\ the Chaudiere and the Ken 
 nchec : I'errot, the end of Lake Michi,iL,''an ami tlu; entrance of Superior; Joliet and I'ere 
 Manpiette, the father of watc-rs down to the Arkansas. In Talon's day Ouehec rose 
 from hein^' a fur-tradini,^ jjost into commercial importance. He heliexcd in the counlr\ 
 he had been sent to woxcrn, and was of opinion that a wise national polic\- demanded 
 the eiicouraiTcment in it of e\i'ry possible variet\- of industrial development. Tlis mantle 
 fell on none of his successors. Insteatl of fostering the industries 'Talon had inauj^airated 
 anil tleftMulinL( tlu; commercial libert\' which he had obtained, th(.'y stilled industry and 
 trade under restrictions and monopolies. \ot that the Intendants were wholly to 
 blame ; they were sent out on purpose to j^^overn tlu- colon}', not with a view to its own 
 benefit, but with a vii-w to the benefit of Okl Trance. Neither the Kini^' nor his minister 
 coukl conceive that Canada would benefit the mother countr)-, onl\' as its material and 
 imlustrial development increased. 'Talon had twelve successors. ( )f all these, th(.' last. 
 Bigot, was the worst. 'To Bigot more than to any other man Trance owes the loss ol 
 the New World. He impoverished the people, nominall)' for the King's service, realK 
 to enrich himself. 'That the poor, plundered, cheated liabila)is were willing to fight as 
 they ditl for the King, an.l that Montcalm was able to accomplish anything with the 
 commissariat Bigot provided, are the wc^nderful facts of the Concpiest of 1759, TIk; In- 
 tendant's house was by far the most expensive and most splendidly furnished in Quebec. 
 It was emphatically "'The Palace," and the gate nearest it was called the; I'alace Ciate. 
 It stood outside the walls, — its principal entrance opposite the cliff on the present line of 
 St. X'alier Street, "under the Arsenal;" whik; its spacious grounds, beautifully laitl out in 
 walks and gardens, e.xtending over several acres, sloptxl down to the river .St. Charles." 
 It is described in 1698 as having a frontage of 480 feet, consisting of the Royal store- 
 house and other buildings, in addition to the Palace itself, so that it appeared a littlr 
 town. In 1713 it was destroyed by fire, but immediately rebuilt in accordance with the 
 French domestic style of the period, two storeys and a basement, as shown by sketches 
 made by one of the officers of the fleet that accompanied Wolfe's expedition. Here, no 
 matter what might be the poverty of the people, the Intendant surrounded himself with 
 splendour. In Bigot's time every form of dissipation ri-igned in the Palace ; while thi 
 
 * Summary of the " History of the Intend.iiit's I'alace," by Chaklks Wai.kkm, .Militia Department. 
 
QUFJiRC. IIISIORICAL AXD DIiSCR/PT/rF. 
 
 69 
 
 Ihihitant, wlio had left his farm to flight for the Kinj^, could hardly j^'et a ration of 
 lil.uk bread for himself, or a son to seiul to his starvin^f wife ami little ones at 
 home. Our illustration shows all that is left of the nuij^nificent Palace. It arose out 
 
 of a brewery started by Talon as a part of 
 
 his national policy, and it has returned 
 
 to be |iart of a brewer}', and for all the luxury and bravery there is nothinj^ now 
 
 to show, and the cheating and the gambling are, let us hope, receiving their just 
 
 recompense of reward. 
 
 The Governor's Chateau is not. The Intendant's Palace was destroyed more 
 th.ui a century ago, but the Bishop's house, seminary and cathedral still remain, and the 
 bishop, or archbishop as he is now st\lcd, is yet the most potent personage in Quebec. 
 I he early bishop, Laval, is one of the historic figures of New France. Seen by 
 ritramontane eyes, this first Canadian bishop stands on the highest pinnacle of human 
 excellence and greatness ; the only mystery being that the Church has not yet canon- 
 ized him. He did everything " for the glory of God," the expression meaning to 
 hini, as to ecclesiastical fanatics of every creed, the glory of the Church, and in some 
 measure the glory of himself. He cared nothing for money or any form of vulgar 
 
70 FRliXCU CAXADJAX IJFl- AM) LllARACIl-K 
 
 PTcatncss. His amhitioii was loftier. Me would rule tin; souls of men, and woe to 
 the man in his widely-extended diocese, he he (iovenior-( ieneral, statesina." merchant, priest 
 or sa\ai,re, who \-entureil to call his soul his own. True, none seemed mort- reaily than 
 Laval to <^d\e support to the .Si;ite. The Church was supreme onl)' in thins^rs spiritual. 
 Kinj^s, too, rulei.1 by Divine ri^ht. Hut then the Churth was to instruct the Kin^, or the 
 KiniLj^'s re])r(.'sentati\-e, as to what malt('rs were ci\il and what s])irilu.d. hor instauK. 
 when the bishop decided that the introihulion of braml)' into the colon\- was injurious 
 to reliL;ion, the importing' or sale of brandy became a spiritual matter. In tli;ii 
 case the (Governor, on pain of e.xcommunication, must punish t!ie \cndor of brand} 
 with the pillory, and, if need be, with death. I^\idently, ("icneral Xeal How follow-.. 
 loui^o iutcrvaUo, our lirst Canadian bishop. Always t'lL^htini;, La\al could sa\' ;is 
 honestl)' as the Kint;- himself, "It seems to me I am the onl)' ])ers()n who is alwa\s 
 riirht " The constitution of the Church of Xi-w I'rance took its permanent form from 
 him. Mis cleriry were his soldiers. When he said "March," they marched. lb 
 established a lesser seminary wheri^ the\' were educateil as bo) s, and the i^re.it 
 seminary where they were trained as priests. lie assigned their fields of labour, 
 changed them as he saw meet, and provided a home whither, when intirm or 
 exhaust(^d with labour or oKl age, they might resort, eithi'r to 'recruit or die in 
 peace. 1 heir directory in life and death was ever\' word that proceiHled out el 
 the mouth of the bisho]). Other directory they desiretl not. To the seminary ,i 
 I'niversit)- under Ro\a! Charter was attached in 1S5J, and to that l'ni\-ersity Laval's 
 name has been deservt'dly given. The Charter, which sets forth that the seminarv 
 has existed for two hundred years, constitutes the archbisho]) visitor, and the superinr 
 and directors of the si-minary a botlv corporate, with all tlie privileges of a I'nivci- 
 sit\-, and full power to make all statutes and ap|ioint all professors. ' Laval University 
 has nothing more to ask from the civil atid religioits authorities to complete it-^ 
 constitittion," is the amiouncein , t of its board ot government. Its koval Chartri 
 assimilates it to the most favoured Lniversily of the Lnited Kingdom, while tin 
 sovereign pontiff, Pius the Ninth, magniticeiuK crowned the edifice bv according t(i 
 it in 1S76 solemn canom'cal hotiours by the Hull "inter riir/tis so/ii/'/ini/ncs." 
 
 I'Vom the opposite shore of Levis, Laval Lniversity, statiding in the most 
 commanding position in the upper town, towering to a height of five storeys, is the 
 most conspicuous building in Quebec. The .American tourist takes it for the cliirt 
 hotel of the place, and congratulates himself that a child of the monster hotels he 
 loves has found its way north of th( line. When he finds that it is only a University, 
 he visits it as a matter o» ■ ourse, looks at the library and museum, remarking casually 
 on their inferiority to those in any one of the four hundred and odd Universities in 
 the United .States, and comes out iti a few minutes, likely encnigh without havi i.i,' 
 gone to the roof to see one of the most glorious panoramas in the New World. Il-n 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIl'E 
 
 71 
 
 \ 
 
 ^iMSMJSiitiSnfs. 
 
 AI nil: (lAII. (II I.WAI. IMVIKSIIA' 
 
 111' is, at th<' j^atc. Hlcssin^s on his serene, kiinll\' sense of su|)iTiorit\- to all men or 
 tliiiii^fs in heaven or on eartli I lie has seen iiothini^ that can compare for a 
 iii'iinent with .Slickville, I^ni,rlishmen, I'renchinen, Sisters, stiulents. Canadian soKliers. 
 li'ilians, are round al)out, hut he alone is monarch of all he sur\cys. A strantje 
 si-ht arrests his attention. Yoiin^r Canada, cap in hand, cap actiialK' off his head, and 
 
^ 
 
 72 FRE\'CH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 head reverently bowed while a priest speaks a kind word or perhaps gives his blessing I 
 This is something new, and he is too good an observer not to make a note of it. 
 congratulating himself at the same time that he is willing to make allowances. Is 
 it not his "specialty," as John Ruskin hath it, "his one gift to the race — to show men 
 how not to worship ? " 
 
 A Canadian may be pardoned for calling attention to the significance of the 
 grant, by the British Government, of a Royal Charter to Laval University. The 
 trust in an hierarchy that the people trust, illustrates the fundamental principle of its %. 
 policy in Canada. No matter what the question, so long as it is not inconsistent with 
 the Queen's supremacy, Canada is governed in accordance with the constitutionally 
 expressed wishes of the people of each Province. The success which has attended the 
 frank acceptance of this principle suggests the only possible solution of that Irish 
 Question which still baffles statesmen. What has worked like a charm here ought to 
 work in another part of the Empire. Here, we have a million of people opposed in 
 race, religion, character and historical associations to the majority of Canadians, a 
 people whose forefathers fought England for a century and a half on the soil on 
 which the children are now living ;— a Celtic people, massed together in one Province, 
 a people proud, sensitive, submissive to their priests, and not very well educated ; — this 
 people half a century ago badgered every Governor that Britain sent out, stopped the 
 supplies, embarrassed authority, and at last broke out into open rebellion. Now, they 
 are peaceai)le, contented, prosperous. They co-operate for all purposes of good govern- 
 ment with the other Provinces, do no intentional injustice to the Protestant minority of 
 their own Province, and are so heartily loyal to the central authority that it has 
 become almost an unwritten law to select the Minister of War from their representatives 
 in Parliament. Let him who runs read, and read, too, the answer of D'Arcy McGee to 
 those who wondered that the young rebel in Ireland should be the mature ardent 
 admirer of British government in Canada: "If in my day Ireland had been governed 
 as Canada is now governed, I would have been as sound a constitutionalist as is to 
 be found in Ireland." 
 
 The best thing Louis XI\\ did for Quebec was the sending to it of the regi- 
 ment of Carignan-Salieres. A few companies of veterans, led by Canadian blue-coats, 
 penetrated by the Richelieu to the lairs of the Iroquois, and struck such terror 
 into them that the colony was thenceforth allowed to breathe and to grow. Still 
 better, when the regiment was disbanded, most of the soldiers remained, and many 
 of the picturesque towns and villages that have grown up along the Richelieu 
 and St. Lawrence owe their names to the officers, to whom large seignorial rights 
 were given by the King on condition of their settling in the colony. From these 
 veterans sprang a race as adventurous and intrepid as ever lived. Their exploits as 
 salt-water and fresh-water sailors, as courcurs dc his, discoverers, soldiers regular and 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 7Z 
 
 • 
 
 irregular, fill many a page of old Canadian history. Whether with the gallant brothers 
 Le Moyne, defending Quebec against Sir William Phipps, or striking terror into New 
 York and New England by swift forays such as Hertel de Rouville led ; or with 
 Du Lhut and Durantaye, breaking loose from the strait -jacket in which Royal In- 
 tendants imprisoned the colony, and abandoning themselves to the savage freedom of 
 western fort and forest life ; or under D'Iberville, most celebrated of the seven sons 
 of Charles Le Moyne, sweeping the English flag from Newfoundland and Hudson's 
 Bay or colonizing Louisiana; or with Jumonville and his brother on the Ohio, de- 
 feating Washington and Braddock ; or vainly conquering at VovX. William Henry and 
 Carillon and Montmorency and Ste. Foye, — the picture is always full of life and colour. 
 Whatever else may fail, valour and devotion to the King never fail. We find the 
 dare-devil courage joined with the gaiety of heart and ready accommodation to cir- 
 cumstances that make the Frenchman popular, alike with friendly savages and civil- 
 ized foemen, in all parts of the world. Canadian experiences developed in the old 
 French stock new qualities, good and bad, the good predominating. \'ersed in all 
 kinds of woodcraft, handling an a.xe as a modern tourist handles a tooth-pick, managing 
 a canoe like Indians, inured to the climate, supplying themselves on the march with 
 food from forest or river and cooking it in the most approved style, fearing neither 
 frost nor ice, depth of snow nor depth of muskeg, independent of roads, — such men 
 needed only a leader who understood them to go anywhere into the untrodden 
 depths of the New World, and to do anything that man could do. Such a leader 
 they found in Louis de Buade, Compte de Palleau et de I'Vontenac. Buade Street 
 recalls his name, and there is little else in the old city that does, though Quebec 
 loved him well in his day. Talon had done all that man could do to develop the 
 infant colony by means of a national policy that stimulated industry, and an immi- 
 gration policy, wise and vigorous enough, as far as his appeals to the King and 
 Colbert went, for the nineteenth century. Ano her man was needed to enable the 
 tiiin line of colonists to make head against the formidable Irocjuois. backed as they 
 were by the Dutch and I'^nglish of New \'ork, and against the citizen sailors and 
 soldiers of New England ; to direct their energies to the Great West ; to make them 
 feel that the power of Prance was with them, no matter how far they wandered 
 from Quebec ; and to inspire them with the thought that the whole unbounded con- 
 tinent was theirs by right. Such a man was PVontenac. Of his quarrels with intendants 
 and clergy it would be a waste of time to speak. To defend him from the accusations 
 made against his honour is unnecessary. How could (juarrels be avoided where three 
 otticials lived, each having some reason to believe, in accordance with the profound 
 state-craft of the Old Regime, that he was the supreme ruler! Frontenac was titular 
 head, and he would be the real head. Neithtir bishops nor intendants should rule 
 in his day, and they did not, and could not. They could worry him and even secure 
 
74 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AN/) CHARACTFR 
 
 his recall, but they could not rrovern the colony when they got th(; chance. I'Vontenac 
 
 had to he sent hack to his 
 post, and the universal joy 
 with which the people re- 
 ceived him showed that, as 
 usual, the peojjle o\erlook 
 irritabilities and shortcom- 
 ings, and discern the man. 
 "He would have been a 
 great prince if heaven had 
 placed him on a throne," 
 says Charlevoix. The good 
 Jesuit forgets that bVon- 
 tenac was the only man 
 who sought to ascertain by 
 ancient legitimate methods 
 the views of all classes of 
 the people, and that as 
 Quebec was shut out from 
 communication with the 
 throne for half the 
 year, the (iovernor had 
 to act as a king or to 
 see the country without 
 a head. Fronte- 
 nac understood 
 the great game 
 that was being 
 plaxcd for the 
 sovereignty of 
 this continent. 
 He had almost 
 boundless influ- 
 ence over the 
 Indians, because 
 lie appreciated 
 them, and in his 
 
 HUAni-: STRKKT. 
 Named after I'ronteiiac. 
 
 heart of hearts was one 
 
 of themselves. No one understood so well ^\^ 
 
 what Indians were fitted to do in the wild warfare 
 
 that the situation demanded. At the time of his 
 
 death all signs betokened that France was to dominate the New World. The treaties 
 
 Champlain had maiU; with the Indians held good. The tribes farther west had allied 
 
OUF.BRC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTH'E 
 
 ith the French. At every strategic point the 
 
 ide fort. 
 (.' was linked by lines of military communi- 
 1 the Gulf of Mexico. Quebec had proud- 
 le church of Xotre Dame de hi X'ictoire 
 norate the defeat of New l-lngland, and the 
 power of the terrible Iroquois had been so 
 
 threaten 
 
 ciirru[ 
 
 thi- issue remotely. Hisrot and his vile cutonrao;c had 
 
 to do with it immediately. Hut by no possibility 
 
 t'ould sixty thousand poor, uneducated Canadians continue to 
 
 nsist the ever-increasing weight of twenty or thirf,- times their 
 
 number of thrifty, intelligent neighbours. Wolfe might have 
 
 l"<Mi defeated on the Plains of .■\braham. When we think of Mont- 
 
 cahn's military genius, the victories gained by him against heavy odds in 
 
 Ijrevious campaigns, and his defeat of Wolfe's grenadiers a few weeks 
 
 h'fore the final struggle, our wonder indeed is that the Ikitish were 
 
 not hurled over those steep cliffs they had so painfully clambered up on that memorable 
 
 I, 
 
 ''I 
 
76 FRF^MCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 early September morning. Scotchmen attributed the result to those men " in the garb of 
 old Gaul, with the tire of old Rome." whom the Ikitish Covernment had been 
 wise enough to organize into regiments out of the clans who a few )ears before 
 had marched victoriously from their own northern glens into the heart of Eng- 
 land. And Wolfe, had he lived, would probably have agreed with them. For. when 
 he told the grenadiers, after their defeat, that, if they had supposed that they 
 alone could beat the French army, he hoped they had found out their mistake, his 
 tone indicated a. boundless confidence in his Highlanders more flattering than any 
 eulogy. Hut the most crowning victory for Montcalm would onh' ha\e delayed the 
 inevitable. Other armies were converging towards Quebec. And behind the armies 
 was a population, already cv)unting itself bj,- millions, determined on the destruction 
 of that nest on the northern rock whence hornets were ever issuing to sting and 
 madden. No one understood the actual state of affairs better than Montcalm. He 
 knew that France had practically abandoned Canada, and left him to make the best 
 tight he could for his own honour against hopeless odds. Hence that precipitate attack 
 on Wolfe, for which he has been censured. He kn-^w that every hour's delay would 
 increase Wolfe's relative strength. I lence, too, that abandonment of the whole cause, 
 after the battle, for which he has been censured still more severely. " I will neither 
 give orders nor interfere any further," he exclaimeil with emotion, when urged to issue 
 instructions about the di-fc i ce of the city. He had tlont.' all that man could ilo. 
 He had seal< 1 his loyalty with his blood. And now, seeing that the stars in their 
 courses were fighting against the cause he had so gallantly upheld, and that the issue 
 was pre-determined, he would take no more responsibility. He knew, too, that his 
 best avengers would be found in the ranks of his enemies ; that Britain in crushing 
 French power in its seat of strength in America, was overreaching herself, and {pre- 
 paring a loss out of all proportion to tiie present gain. He appreciated the " Bostonnais;" 
 predicting that they would never submit to an island thousands of miles away when 
 they controlled the continent, whereas the\ would have remained loyal if a hostile 
 power held the St. Lawrence and the Lakes. Was he not right ? And had not Pitt 
 and Wolfe, then, as nuicii to do with bringing about the separation of the Thirteen 
 States from the mother country, as I'"ranklin and Washington ? 
 
 The story of the campaigns of 1 759-60 need not be told here. Every incident 
 is familiar to the traditional school-boy. Every tourist is sure to visit Wolfe's Cov( 
 for himself, and to ascend the heights called after the old .Scottish pilot "Abraham' 
 Martin. No sign of war now. Rafts of timber in the Cove, and ships from all 
 waters to carry it away, instead of boats crowded with rugged Highlanders silent a^ 
 the grave. No trouble apprehended by any one, e.xcept from stevedores whose right ii 
 is to dictate terms to commerce and occasionally to throw the city into a state of siege. 
 No precipice now, the face of which ust l)e scaled on hantls and knees. A pleasant 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AXD DESCRIPTH'E 
 
 1 1 
 
 load leads to the Plains, and you and your party can drive leisurely up. There, 
 before you, across the common, is the modest column that tells where Wolfe "died 
 victorious." Between it and the Citadel are Martello towers, diyginy^ near one of 
 which some years ago, skeletons were found, and military buttons anc. buckles, the 
 dreary pledges, held by battle-fields, of human valour and devotion and all the pomp 
 aiul circumstance of war. You must drive into the city to see the monument that 
 commemorates the joint glory of Montcalm and Wolfe ; and out again, to see the 
 third monument, sacred to the memory of the braves who. under the skilful Ue 
 Levis, uselessly avenged at Ste. Foye the defeat of Montcalm. 
 
 rhe red-cross flag floated over the Chateau of St. Louis, and New England gave 
 
 0\1 Kl.(H)KIN(i ST. CHAKLKS VAI.I.KV. 
 
 thanks. I'ifteen years passed awa\', 
 and Montcalm's prediction was fulfilled. 
 The "Hostonnais" were in rt^volt. Wise with the teaching of more than a century, 
 they at the outset determined to secure the St. Lawrence ; and they woulil have 
 succeeded, had it not been for the same strong rock of Quebec which had foiled 
 them so often in the old colonial days. Arnold ad\ancetl through the roadless wildfniess 
 of Maine, defying swamps, forests, and innumerable privations as hardily as ever did 
 thr old Canadian noblvssc when they raided the \ illages and forts of Maine. Montgomery 
 swept the British garrisons from the Richelieu and Montreal, and joined Arnold at 
 the appointed rendezvous. Thi'ir success must have astonished themselves. The 
 <\pIanation is that the colony had no garrisons to speak of. anil that the L>ench 
 Canadians felt that the quarrel was none of their making. In a month all Canada 
 Quebec excepted — had been gained for Congress ; and there was no garrison in Quebec 
 <apable of resisting the combined forces that Arnold and Montgomery led. But Guy 
 ( irleton reached Quebec, and another proof was given to the world that one man may 
 1' eipial to a garrison. In a few days he had breathed his own spirit into the militia, 
 
78 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 ovi:ri.ookin<; noktii ciiannki,. 
 
 From Ciraml Matti-ry and Laval University. 
 
 native Canadians as well as British l)orn. 
 Ihe inxatlers established themselves in 
 the Intendant's Palace and other houses 
 near the walls, antl after a month's siey^e made a 
 resolute attempt to take; the city by storm. Whatever 
 may have been the result of a more precipitate attack, 
 the delay unquestionably afforded greater advantages 
 
QUBiiF.c. msroRicAL Axn PEscRinrn'R 
 
 79 
 
 to the l)(jsi(;gecl lliati to the besiegers. Mont- 
 '4()in('r\' s(,'t out fiom Wolfe's Cove and cre[)t 
 alonj,^ the narrow pathway now known as Cham- 
 phiin Street. Arnold advanced from the oppo- 
 sil(; direction. His intention was to force his 
 way round by what is now St. Koch's suburbs, 
 below lh(.' ramparts, and under the cliff at 
 present crowncnl by Laval University and the 
 (irand Hatt(.T\-, and to meet Montj^omery at 
 the foot of Mountain llill, when their united 
 forces would entleavour to j,rain the upper 
 town. Not the first fraction of the plan, 
 on the one side or the other, succeeded. 
 .Arnold's men were surrounded and captured. 
 Montgomery, marching 
 in the gray dawn through 
 a heavy snow - storm, 
 came u])on a baltt-ry 
 that blockeil up the 
 
 n a r r o w pathway. 
 He rushed forward, 
 hoping to take it by 
 surprise ; but the 
 gunners were on the 
 alert, and the first 
 discharge swept him 
 and the head of his 
 column, maimed or 
 dead, into the deep 
 white snow or over 
 the bank. The snow 
 continued to fall, 
 quietly effacing all 
 
 WOLFF.'S 
 
 mom'mf:nt. 
 
 MAKTKI.I.O TOWKR. 
 On the Plains of Abraham. 
 
 signs of the conflict. A few hours after, Montgomery's body was found lying 
 in the snow, stark and stiff, and was carried to a small log-house in St. Louis 
 Street. No more gallant soldier fell in the Revolutionary War. Nothing now could 
 l)e done even by the daring Arnold, though he lingered till spring. One whiff of 
 grape-shot had decided that Congress must needs leave its ancient foe to itself. 
 
8o 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 to work out its destinies in connection with that British Empire which it had so 
 long defied. 
 
 That decision has ruled events ever since. From that day to this, constitutional 
 (questions have occupied the attention of the Canadian people, instead of military ambition 
 and the game of war. No such questions could emerge under the Old Regime. Consti- 
 tutional development was tlu-ii impossible. The fundamental principle of the Old Regime 
 was that the spiritual and the civil powers ruled all subjects by Divine right, and therefore 
 
 that tlu- first and last duty of govern- 
 ment was to train the people under a 
 long line of absolute functionaries, re 
 ligious and civil, to obey the powers 
 that be. A d(;mand for representative 
 institutions could hardly be expecteil 
 to come in those circumstances from 
 the I'Vcnch Canadians. Their ambition 
 extended no further than the hope that 
 they might be governed (economically, 
 on a hard-money basis, and according 
 to their own traditions. Their relation 
 to the lanil, their disposition, habits 
 and training, their unquenchable Celtic 
 love for their language, laws and re- 
 ligion, made them eminently conserva- 
 tive. From the day the British tlag floated over their heads, they came; into the 
 possession of rights and privileges of which their fathers had never dreamed. The 
 contrast between their condition under Great Britain with what it had been under 
 France, could not be described more forcibly than it was by Papineau in the year 
 1820 on the hustings of Montreal: — "Then — under I'rance^^^trade was monopolised by 
 privileged Companies, public and private property often pillaged, and the inhabitants 
 dragged year after year from their homes and families to shed their blood, from the 
 shores of the Great Lakes, from the banks of the Mississippi and the Ohio, to Nova 
 Scotia, Newfoundland, and Hudson's Bay. Now, religious toleration, trial by jury, the 
 act of Habeas Corpus, afford legal and equal security to all, and we need submit to no 
 other laws but those of our own making. All these advantages have become our 
 birthright, and shall, I hope, be the lasting inheritance of our i)Osterity." But a disturbing 
 element had gradually worked its way among the habitans, in the form of merchants, 
 ofificials, and other British residents in the cities, and United Empire Loyalists from 
 the States, and disbanded soldiers, to whom grants of land had been made in various 
 parts of the Province, and especially in the eastern townships. From this minority 
 
 IHASI:; 10 WHICH MO.NTGO.MKRVS MODV WAS C.XkKUa). 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AXP DESCRIPTH'E 81 
 
 came the first demand for larjjjer liberty. These men of British antecedents feh that 
 they could not and would not tolerate military sway or civil ahsohitisin. They demanded, 
 and they tauj^ht the Gallo-Canadians to ilemand, the rights of free men. At the same 
 time, immijjjration bejjjan to llow into that western part of Canada, now called the Province 
 of Ontario. It could easil)' be foreseen that this western part would continue to 
 receive a population essentially different from that of Eastern or Lower Canada. A 
 wise statesmanship resolved to allow the Eastern and Western sections to develop 
 according to their own sentiments, and to give to all Canatia a constitution modelled, as 
 f.ir as the circumstances of the age and country permitted, on the British Constitution. 
 To secure these objects, Mr. Pitt passed the Act of 1791 — an Act that well deserves the 
 name, subsequently given to it, of the first " Magna Charta of Canadian freedom." The 
 hill dividend the ancient " Province of Quebec" into two distinct colonies, under the names 
 of L'ppcr and Lowi-r Canada, each section to have a separate elective Assembly. I'o.x 
 strenuously opposed the division of Canada. " It would be wiser," he said, " to unite 
 still more closely the two races than separate them." lUirkt; lent the weight of political 
 ])hilosoi)hy to the ])ractical statesmanship of Pitt. " b'or us to attempt to amalgamate 
 two populations composetl of races of men diverse in language, laws and habitudes, is a 
 complete absurdity," he warmly argued. Pitt's policy combinetl all that was valuable in 
 the arguments of both Vox and Burke. It was designed to accomplish all that is now 
 accomplished, acconling to the spirit as well as the forms of the British Constitution, 
 l)y that federal system under which we are happily living. In order to make the Act 
 of 1791 successful, only fair play was recpiired, or a disposition on the part of the leaders 
 of the people to accept it loyally. All constitutions require that :is the condition of 
 success. Under Pitt's Act the bounds of freedom could have been widened gradually 
 and peacefully. But it did not get fair play in Lower Canada, from either the repre- 
 sentatives of the minority or of the ir.ajority of the people. The minority had clamoured 
 lor representative institutions. They got them, and then made the tliscovery that the 
 gift implied the government of the country, not according to their wishes, but according 
 to the wishes of the great body of the people. Naturally enough, they then fell back 
 on the Legislative Council, holding that it shouUl be composed of men of British race 
 only or their sympathisers, and that the Executive should be guided not by the 
 r(|)resentative Chamber, but by the Divinely-appointed Council. On the other hand. 
 tlu' representatives of the majority soon awoke to understand the power of the weapon 
 that had been put into their hands. When they did understand, there was no end to 
 lli'ir delight in the use of the weapon. A boy is ready to use his first jack-knife or 
 hatchet on anything and everything. So they acted, as if their new weapon could not 
 b< used too much. As with their countrymen in Old France, their logical powers 
 interfered with their success in the practical work of government. They were slow to 
 l<arn that life is broader than logic, and that free institutions are possible only by the 
 
 I 
 
82 rRE\Xll CANADIAN Urii AND CHARACTER 
 
 practici.' of imitual forbearance towards each other of the different bodies amonj^f whom 
 the siiprcinc power is tlistributed. Still, the measun; of constitutional freedom that hail 
 been generously bestowed had its le)j;itimate effect on the I'Vench-Canadians. They 
 learni'd to appeal to British precedents, and a lov(! of Mritish institutions bej,'an to take 
 possession of their minds. Nothing demonstrates this more satisfactorily than the con- 
 trast between their inaction during 1775-6, and their united anil heart) action during the 
 war of 1S12-15. That war, which may be regarded as an episode in the constitutional 
 history we are sketching, teaches to all who are willing to be taught several important 
 lessons. It showed that I'Vench-Canadians had not forgotten how to tight, and that ac- 
 cording as they were trusted so would they tight. No better illustration can be given 
 than Chateauguay, where Colonel de Salaberry with 300 Canadian militiamen anil a few- 
 Id ighlanders victoriously drove back an army 7000 strong. The Canadians everywhere 
 Hew to arms, in a quarrel, too, with the bringing on of which the\' had nothing to do. 
 The Ciovernor sent the regular troops to the frontiers, ami confided the guardianship of 
 Quebec to the city militia, while men like Hedard who had been accused of "treason," 
 because they understood the spirit of the Constitution better than their accusers, were 
 appointed officers. Successive campaigns proveil, not only that Canada was unconquer- 
 able — ^even against a people then fort)- times as numerous — because of the spirit of its 
 peoi)le, its glorious winters, and northern fastnesses, but also because an unprovoked 
 war u|)on Canada will nev(,T command the united support of the |)eople of the States. 
 When the w-ar was declared in 1S12, several of the New ICngland States refused their ipiotas 
 of militia. The Legislature of Maryland declared that they had acted constitutionally in 
 refusing. .And all over New- F!ngland secession was seriously threatened. What happened 
 then would occur again, under other forms, if an effort were made to conquer four 
 or five millions of Canadians, in order to make them citizens of free .States. .Should 
 either political party propose it, that party would seal its own ruin. .\ great Christian 
 people will struggle unitedly and religiously to free millions, never to subdue millions. 
 Should momentary madness drive them to attempt the commission of the crime, the 
 consequence would more likely be the disruption of the Republic than the concjuest of 
 Canada. 
 
 So much the episode of 181 2-15 teaches, read in the light of the present day. 
 When the war was over, the struggles for constitutional development were resumed. 
 Complicated in Lower Canada by misunderstandings of race, they broke out in 'the 
 troubles" or sputterings of rebellion of 1837-38. The forcible reunion of the two 
 Canadas in 1840 was a temporary measure, necessitated probably by those troubles. It 
 led to friction, irritations, a necessity for double majorities, and perpetual deadlocks. Did 
 not Pitt in 1791 foresee these as the sure results in the long run of any such union, 
 beautiful in its simplicity though it appears to doctrinaires ? The confederation of British- 
 America in 1867 put an end to the paralysis, by the adoption of the federal principle, 
 
QUEBEC: mSTORICAI. AND DESCRlPTllE 8 
 
 .■) 
 
 ami the ordained extension of Canada to its natural boundarie:; of three oceans on three 
 s!iles and the watersheil of the Ami;rican continent on the fourth. I'ull self-^'ovcTnment 
 ii.ivinjf now been attained, our position is no lonj^er colonial. 
 
 What, then, is our destiny to be? Whatever Goil wills. The onl)- points clear as 
 siinlijjht to us as a people are, that 'Janada is fnu-, and that we dare not break up the 
 unity of the grandest ICnipire the world has ever known, .\nne.\ation has been advocated, 
 but no one has proved that such a chanj^^e would be, even conunercially. to our advanta^^e. 
 We would j,fet closer to lifly and be removed farther from two hundred millions. 
 I'oliticalh', Canada would cease to e.xist. She would serve merely as a make-wei^dit to 
 the Republican or Democratic party. The I'Vench-Canadian element, so j^reat a factor 
 aiiualK' and potentially in our national life, woukl bcjcomc; a nullity. We would surrender 
 all hopes of a distinctive future. Stran^u-rs would rule over us; for we are too weak 
 to resist the alien forces, and too stronj,' to h\i readily assimilated. Our neighbours are a 
 ^neat people. .So are the French and the Germans. Hut Belgium does not pray to be 
 absorbed into France, and Holland would not consent to be anne.xed to Germany. 
 Looking at the question in the light of the past and with f(iresight of the future, ami 
 from the point of view of all the higher considerations that sway men. we say, in the 
 «in|)iuitic language of .Scripture, "It is a shame even to speak" of such a thing. We 
 would repent it only once, and that would be forever. Their ways are no* our ways; 
 ihcir thoughts, traditions, history, are not our thoughts, traditions, hi.Uory. The occa- 
 sional cry for Independence is more honourable; but, to break our national continuity 
 in cold blood, to cut ourselves loose from the capital and centre of our strength ! to 
 *;ain— what? A thou^aid possibilities of danger, and not an atom of added strength. 
 What, then, are we to do? "Things cannot remain as they are," we are told. Who 
 says that they can ? They have been changing every decade. The future will bring 
 clianges with it, and wisdom too, let us hope, such as our fathers had, to enable us to do our 
 duty in the premises. In the meantime, we have enough to ilo. W^e have to simplify 
 th( machinery of our government, to make it less absurdly e.xpensive, and to disembarrass 
 it of patronage. We have to put an emphatic stop to the increase of the public del)t. 
 W <• have to reclaim half a continent, and throw doors wide open that millions may 
 vnicr in. We have to grow wiser and better. We have to guard our own heads while 
 wr seek to do our duty to our day and generation. Is not that work (.-nough for the 
 II' \t half century? No one is likely to interfere with us, but we are not thereby 
 ah^^olved from the responsibility of keeping up the defences of Halifax and Quebec, and 
 fortifying Montreal by a cincture of detached forts. These cities safe, Canada might 
 111' invaded, but could not be held. But what need of defence, when we are assured 
 ■ that "our best defence is no defence." Go to the mayors of our cities and bid them 
 dismiss the police. Tell bankers not to keep revolvers, and householders to poison 
 I th( ir watch -dogs. At one stroke we save what we are expending on all the old- 
 
 
8a 
 
 FRHXCff CANAD/AX LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 fashioned arr;ui.^H'iiH;nts of the Dark Ai,u!s. It has hern (hscovercd that the "best defence; 
 
 is no deffiui' 1 " 
 
 It cliH's not h.'c-onn! j^rrown men to ilream dreams in broad dayli.ijht. Wise men 
 regard facts. Here is the Admiral's ship, the shapely "Northampton," in the harl.our df 
 
 ini c iiADi I.. 
 
 In. Ill II M. S. •■ N..illMiii|ilnii.' 
 
 ( )iii'l)cr. Come nil ho.ni!, 
 and from the (]uarter-di ^ k 
 "'>. take a view of the .L;ranil old slorird rcik 
 
 \Vh..M' mon.y l.uiit ih it \ast Cita.lrl that crowns its sinnoih > Who -ave us th-' 
 
 mi-hty Latteries on the l-.'vis h.'i,L,ht. ..ppo->if •- What en.'my on this pl.in.l r-.uld t„l. 
 
 f)uel,rr as Ion- .1^ ihr "Northampton" plcd-vs to us the ...inmaiul of the sea? An. 
 
 for answ. r. a eharmer says, you would be far stronger, without the forts an<l uith. u, 
 
 the " Northam|)ton I " 
 
QL'EBEC: HISTORICAL AXD DliSCRI PTnii 
 
 8S 
 
 HISTORICAL AXD ULSCRIPTIVH 
 
 
 
 ^3 > %. 
 
 
 
 \11\V IKliM I Ml. (Il.l) MANOR lldlSI, \1 UlAtruKl. 
 
 / ^I'l'lMI'X" -the s|)()t wlicic tlic most rctuicd riNili/ation of the OV\ World tirsl touclicd 
 
 ^ tile harliaric v ildiicss of the NfW — is also the s|)ot where the lar<;est share of the 
 
 : • tures(iue and romantic eleiniMit has leathered round the outlines of a i^rand thouL^h 
 
 i!i.i,'^('(l nature. It wouKI se<Mn as if thos(! early heroes, the flower of France's chivalry, 
 
S6 FRliXLll CAXADIAX LIFE AM) CUARACTHR 
 
 who conriucrL'tl a new coiintrN- from a savaij^c climate and a savai^c race, had impressed 
 the featur(;s of their iiationaht)- on this rock fortrt^ss forever. Ma\' Quebec always 
 retain its hreiich idiosyncrasy I The shades of its l)r<i\c founders claim this as their 
 ri>,du. j-rom Champlain and La\al down to I )e Levis and Montcalm, the\- deserve this 
 monument to their ('tlorts to build \\\\ and preserxc a "New I'rance" in this westt-'rn 
 world ; and Wolfe for ont; would not ha\c i^rud^'ed that the memory of his i^allant foe 
 shouUl her(; he; closely tMitwincHl with his own. .Ml who know the value of the 
 min<;lin<; of diverse ek;ments in enriching; national life, will rejoice in the |)reservation 
 am(jn<^ us of a distinctly l'"r»,'nch element, hlendinj; harmoniously in our Canadian 
 nationality. 
 
 ".Sii\i)ri ;mcl Cflt mikI Norinaii mix' \vc ; " 
 
 and we may well he proud of having; within our borders a " Xew I'rance" as well as a 
 *' (ireater Britain." 
 
 Imagination could hartlly ha\-e devised a nobler portal to the Dominion than the 
 milt^-wide strait, on one side of which rise the trreen heiifhts of Levis, anil on the other 
 the bold, abrupt outlint.-s of Capt; Diamond. To the travelh-r from the Old Work! who 
 first drops anchor under those dark rocks and frownini;; ramparts, the couff iftril must ])re- 
 sent an impressive frontispiece to the unread volume. Ihe outlines of the rock)- rampart 
 and its crownin^j^ fortress, as s(;en from a tlistance, recall both Stirling;- antl I'Lhrenbreitstein, 
 while its aspect as viewed from tht; foot of the time-worn, steep-roofed old houses that 
 skirt the heijj;ht, carries at least a su_sj^jjjestion of Ldinburtjh Castle from the Cirassmarket. 
 To the home-bred Canadian, comins.:^ from the Mat r(!^-ions of Central Canada by the 
 train that skirts the southern shore and sudilenly funis its way alon>.j the abrupt, wooded 
 heiLjhts that eml in Point L<?vis, with (piaint stee])-gabled anil balconieil I'rench houses 
 climbinLj the rocky ledt^es to the ri<rht, and affordinj^ to curious passen^jers, throui^di open 
 doors and wimlows, man\ a naive j^dimpse of the simple domestic lif" of the liabitans. 
 the first sii^rht of Ouebec from th(; terminus or the fe'rr\- station is a rcivc'lation. It is 
 the n.'alization of dim, hovering- visions conjured up b\' the literature of other huuls more 
 rich in the picturescpie element l)orn of anticpiit)' and historical association. ( )n ou" 
 Re|)ublican neighbours, the elfec-t |»roduccd is the same. ( )i:ebec has no more enthusiasfu 
 admirers than its hosts of American \isitors ; and no writers haxc mori' vividly and 
 ap])reciati\ely (.lescribed its peculiar charm than I'arkman and Ilowells. 
 
 Lookiniu; at ()uei)ec tu'st from the o|)|)osite heii^hts of Levis, and then passim.; 
 slowl\ across from shore to shore, the striking; features of the tit\ and its sur- 
 roundings come i^raduall) into \ iew, in a mannt-r doubly i-nchantiuj^ if it happens 
 to be a soft, mist\- summer mornino. .\t lu'st, the dim, huL^e mass of the rock 
 and Citadel, — seemingly one jj^rand fortification, — absorbs the attention. Then th< 
 details come out, one after another. The firm lines of ram[)art and bastion, the 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAr. A XI) DESCRIPTH'E 
 
 ;htl\iii}^ oiitliiU'S of the rock, 
 )iiHrrin 1 crracc with its li.i^lit 
 laviliinis, the slope of Mountain 
 nil, the Ciraml I^atter\-, the eon- 
 s|in nous pile of I,a\al I 'ni\ ersitw 
 the (lark serried mass of houses 
 1 liistcrini; aU)!!^;' the foot of the 
 in.ks and risinj^ Li^raihially u|) tlie 
 '^fiiulcr incline into which these 
 I. ill away, the busy quays, the 
 l.ir- • ii,issen<j;er hoats steam in<; in 
 aiiil out from their wh;u"\('s, a 
 iDipress the stranger with the 
 inn ,t distinctive aspects of Ouehec 
 I'll' ire lie lanils. 
 
 As soon as he has landed, he is 
 impressed hy other features of its 
 aiii eiit aiul foreii^n aspect. The 
 11.11 ow, crooked i.anes that tlo duty 
 f"i streets, tlu; i;rimy, weatluT- 
 I"| 'U walls and narrow windows 
 
 >" ither side, the sleep-roofed antique French houses, the cork-screw ascent tovards 
 
88 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 the upper town, the rutrsJed pavement over which the wheels of the calc'chc noisil)- 
 rattle, recall the peculiarities of an old I'rench town. Aiitl hefort; Prescott Gate wa> 
 sacrificed to modern utilitarian demands, tlu; effect was intensifieil by the novel sen- 
 sation — in America — of enterint^ a walled town through a real gate, frowning down 
 as from a media-val story. 
 
 The short, crooked streets of Ouebcc, diverging at all kinds of angles, make ii 
 as difificult to find one's wa)' as in \'enice or old Hoston. It has grown, like old 
 towns, instead of being laid out like new ones, and its peculiarities of growth ha\c 
 been differentiated to a remarkable (.legree 1)\- the e.\igencit;s of its site and fortifications. 
 The "lie" of the place can be best explained by saying thai thi; walls embrace a 
 rudely-drawn section of an ellipse, the straight sitlc of which iliviiles th(; city from 
 the comparatively level grountl of the country in rear (towards tlu; north-west), while 
 the Citadel occupies the western corner of the curve which follows the in\\:^i: of th(' 
 precipice abutting on the St. Lawn-ncc;, turning an abrupt corner round the Seminarv 
 (iardens, and following tlu; line of the high ground till it descemls to the valley 
 of the St. Charles. It was on ////.v siilc of the natural fortress, to which Quebec 
 owes its anticpiity and its pre-eminence as a capital, that the life of the Old Woild 
 left its first trace on tin; history of tin- CaiKulian wilderness, b'or here, a little way up 
 the river Jacques Cartier anchored his ships, which hatl so astoumleil the unsophisticated 
 savag ^; they came, like things of life;, sailing up the river. Here, too, he and 
 
 his men spent the long, bitter winter, waiting wearily for the slowly - coming spriii<; 
 which so many of them never saw. 
 
 Hut there are pleasanter associations with the sitle of (Juebec which the visitor usually 
 sees first. As we walk or dri\-e up .Mountain Hill by the winding ascent which originally 
 existed as a rough gully, tlu' associations are all of Champlain, the Chevalier Bayard 
 of the French /'<;>/;//(' and the foimder of Ouebec. ()ne cannot but wontler whether there 
 rose before his inner vision a picture of the city which he may have hoped would grow 
 from the oak anil walnut-shaded plateau by the river, anil up the sides of the ruggid 
 hill that now bears its mass of anci(Mit buiUlings, climbing to the zig-zaggeil walls ami 
 bastions that crown the high(;st point of what was then a bare beetling rock. A:- 
 he watched the stately trees falling under the strokes of his sturdy axe-men — where I 
 dingy warehouses and high t(Miements are now denscdy massed together under the cliti 
 — hi- may have dreamed of a second Kouen, the (pieenly ca|)ital of a " New I'rance," giving 
 laws to a territory as illimitable as the wilderness of hill and forest that stretched awayj 
 on every side beyond the range of eye and imagination. 
 
 Hut before ascending Mountain Hill, Id us turn aside into the little Notre Da^ntl 
 Place, where stands a small ipiaint church with high-peaked roof and anticpie belfry, ( ni I 
 of the oldest buildings in Quebec, for its walls ilate back at least before 1690 when the t' tt| 
 of Notre Dame des X'ictoires was established to commemorate the defeat of Sir Willi iinl 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AXD DESCRIPTIl'E ^q 
 
 riiipps. It was close to this spot that Chainplain liiiilt his first fort and warehouse for 
 siores and peltries. A little farther to the left — where the Chaniplain Market, i)uilt out 
 (i| the stones of the old l\'irliaiiient huilding^s, presents on market days a busy and 
 picturesque tableau — stootl the first " Abitation de Ouebecq," perpetuateil for us by 
 Chaniplain's inartistic pencil, with its three tall, narrow wooden houses set close 
 lojrether, its store-house and dovocote. its loop-holed ijallery running' round the second 
 ^loreN'. its moat and surrounding- wall. Just above frowned the dark-brown rock ; the 
 blue waters of the St. Lawrence almost washed its outer wall ; while the j^ardens 
 which Chaniplain delit^hted to lay out and plant with roses, lay on three sides, to 
 j^race the wilderness abode. Now there are nt) gardens and no roses, — only a bus\- 
 market-place that blooms out periodically, to be sure, with tlowers ami fruit ; masses 
 of buildinjrs, narrow streets and crowdeil docks, where the tides of the; St. Lawrence 
 washed the shint^ly beach ; huti^e piles of wharves drivint^ the rive-r still farther 
 to bay : loaded wains carryini^ the produce of tlu; Old World from the threat ocean 
 vessels or tlu- produce of the Xew World to them ; liyht I'rench la/a/us dashing- by 
 the primitive carts of the market-folk, their drivers exchang-inj:^ gay /Mt/Z/itn^'v as the\- 
 pass • orrav'.'. iong-robeil priests, or jaunty French clerks or lads in the Seminar)- uniform 
 hurraing to and fro and replying in bVench if )-ou ask them a ([uestion in Lnglish ; — 
 all the bus\- life of a comple.x civilization, combintxl with an air of anti(juit\- which 
 makes it difficult to realize that even three centuries ago the scene was one unbroken 
 wilderness. 
 
 I'ursuing Chamijlain Street a little farther, the lower town presents not a few 
 characteristic studies. A quaint old street — " Sous Le Cap " — lies so close under the 
 precipice surmounted by the Grand Battery and Laval Unixersity that no casual passer- 
 by- would think of penetrating its obscurity. Its dilapidated oKl houses, with their backs 
 to the cliff, are braced against their o|)posite neighbours b\- cross-beams of timber 
 to keep theni upright, and e\-(Mi the narrow I-'rench carts can with difficulty pass 
 through what looks more like; a -Scottish wyiiil than a Canadian street ; while the old red- 
 capped habitant who sits calmly smoking at his door might have stepped out of a I*" reach 
 pictun'. If we pass down to the locks, •. e may see ocean ve.ssels preparing for departure, 
 perhaps, out in the stream, a timber ship loading her cargo, — the piles of fragrant wood 
 suggesting the distant forests where, in the clear, sharp winter days the men from the 
 lumber camp were busy hewing down and squaring the giant pines, the growth of cen- 
 turies of summers. 
 
 Hut it is time for us to retrace our steps from this region of shipping and docks 
 AwA piers, of warehouses and offices, stretching along the ledge underneath the Citadel. 
 We may follow back Chaniplain Street into Little Chaniplain Street, and pass on 
 lo the foot of Break-neck Steps, a shorter and more tlirect route than the circui- 
 tous one of Mountain Hill, though there is a still easier mode of ascent provided 
 
go 
 
 /■R/-:\af c.Ly.wf.-i.y i.irr. .wn character 
 
 \w tliL- new (k'vator, which transports you to the terrace above without any exertion. 
 On a market day, the steps are ahve with the j^jood folks of the upjier town 
 troini^j down to market or to business; and the liusy scene below — the crowd of people 
 
 sous I.K CM 
 
 and conveyances in the> market- _ __ _n^"i____— 
 
 place, with the old houses built .^ 
 
 close aji^ainst the cliff, tin; back_i,M-ound »)f steamboats and shipping, and the terrace with 
 
 its lij^ht, jrraceful paijodas ai^ainst tht; sk) al)ove affords one of the many bits of 
 
 contrast in which Quebec abounds. 
 
 A few minutes brinj.^ us to the; top of the stairs and out on what was old 
 Durham Terrace, which, extendt.'d at the suL,^ijjestion of Lonl Hufferin to the foot of the 
 
QUIIBEC. HISTORICAL .WD ni-.SCRIPTn'R 
 
 QI 
 
 jlacis of the Citadel, has ap- 
 piopriatL'ly takt-n its prcst'iit 
 r line and, sii[)pli(;d with 
 li^ht pavilions at the points 
 ( 'iinniandin^f the most strik- 
 iiii; views, now bears the 
 name of th(' popular (iov- 
 t inor who so warmly ap- 
 prcciati^l the old city. It 
 altords one of the noblest 
 |iri)menades that a city 
 (diikl possess, from the majjf- 
 iiiticent view it commands ; 
 while th«; old portion which, 
 as Durham Terrace, perpetu- 
 ated the nam(; of one of the 
 al)lest British (iovernors of 
 Canada, is also the; cjMitre of 
 the most romantic and heroic 
 iiKinories that clust(?r round 
 Uuebec. I'or, close b\\ in the 
 lime of Champlain, was built 
 the rude stockaded fort, within 
 which he and his men were fain 
 In i;ik(; refuije from the incur- 
 -.lons of the tierce Irocpiois ; 
 while h<;re, also, rose; th(! old 
 L hatt-au St. Louis which, for 
 two centuries, under the l-'lciir 
 •I' Lis or the Union jack, was 
 till- centre of Canatlian i^ovcrn- 
 ni'iit ami the heart ami core 
 "! Canadian ch^fence al,^linst 
 i''H|uois. British or American 
 .iv.ailants. The Chatitau of St. 
 I.'uis -burned down at last, 
 ii ' stones helpiiv^r to build 
 tills broad terrace— mii^dit fur- 
 II' h material for half a ilo/en 
 
 I.OOKINO rr I KOM TMI-; WHARVKS. 
 
FRI-XLJI C.l.\\l/>/.l\ IJ/'J- .l.\7> CIlARACTIiR 
 
(JilUH'.C: IlISTORJCAL A.\n DliSLRIPJ'Illi 
 
 Q3 
 
 loinanccs. Lookinif across from tlic hiis\' mass of s\varmin«f life IxjIow, and the tlittin>> 
 ■<ti!amcrs ami stately ships with which the ri\cr is snuUUd, you sec, first, tlic picturcscjue 
 hcij^hts of Lc\is, on which rise, tier after tier trom the busy town ol Soiitii (Jiiehec 
 .mil tin; Grand Trunk i)uiUlin,!Lis, a town in tlu'mselves, — villa_L,^e after villaj^e, j^ditteriiiL;- 
 Juircli s|)ires, massive conventual huildint's •deamiii;' out of emhosomiiV' foliaee, till 
 the eye follows the curve of the heijLjht down a^^ain to the river. Thence it follows 
 
 still the lint' of the lower hilU that hound 
 the receiliii^ shores oi the wiilenini^ expanse 
 — the boKl outline, looniin;; |>erha[)s, through 
 ont! of the fre(|uent sea- mists, of the 
 ricliK-wooded, hamlet-sprinkleil Isle of 
 
 \ 
 
 CUSTOM HOUSK. 
 
 < >rlt..'ans, — the old He de Bacchus, 
 
 -then northward, across the soft ijray expanse of river, with its 
 white sails or dark steam-craft, to the hither shore, with the lis^ht 
 mist of Montmorenc\- on the distant woods, ami the ^raml outlines 
 <if the Laurentian Hills that here hrst meet the ri\er whose name 
 
 tliey bear; while nearer still, the (irecian front and dome of tlu; Custom House, the 
 mass of Laval University and the lowers and steeples of the upper town till in a varied 
 lon'jTround. '\o the ri^ht, the terrace stretches awa\- in a promenatle, till it is cut short 
 I'V the steep sl;)pe of the Citatiel crownetl 1)\' ram|)art and bastion, while Ix'hind lie the 
 milady walks of \\\(\ (lovernor's Garden, surroundin*^ the pillar iledicated to the joint 
 memory of Wolfe and Montcalm. It is a \iew to which no artist's pencil could do 
 uistice, since no picture could give it in its completeness, and it would take many to 
 
94 FRENCH CAXADIAX UFl-: AND LIIARACTER 
 
 fully illustrate its ever-varyinjjj aspect from sunrise to sunset, or when the moonlijfht 
 enfolds it in a serener and more solemn beauty. 
 
 One mij^dit dream away a summer day or a summer ni^ht on Duffcrin Terrace; 
 but the present claims attention as w(;ll as the past. Passing to the rear, you can 
 wander throuj^h the shady walks of tlu- (iovernor's (iarden or sit on lh(.' iron 
 seats near \.\\v. " Rin^," and call up before the imaj^nnation the stirrinj^^, martial 
 scenes so often enacted on the (irandv Phxcc before the chateau. There the rem- 
 nant of the unfortunate llurons pitched their tents aft(;r the butchery of thousanils 
 of their number by the Iroquois on the Isle of Orleans, and there they were allowed to 
 build a small fort. Thither, too, came a deputation of forty Iroquois, tattooed and 
 naked, vociferating^ an appeal for peace to the Ouontliio or Governor, in the summer of 
 1666, when the j^allant regiment of Carignan-Salieres had at last succeeded in instillini^r 
 fear into their savage breasts. Here, also, many a French Governor, as the represent- 
 ative of His Most Catholic Majesty, surrounded by a bewigged and plumed retinue. 
 received with due circumstance the keys of the Castle of .St. Louis. 
 
 But it is time that we ascended to the Citadel, at which we have been so long 
 looking from below. A flight of steps takes us up from the western end of Dufferin 
 Terrace to the glacis. Here we again stop to look down. It is tlu; view 
 from the terrace, expanded in every direction. At our feet lies the busy [)anorama 
 of river and docks ; the Grand Trunk ferr\-boat, like a tiny battcau, is stealing 
 across the river in a wide curve, to avoiil the pressure of the tiile. On the other side 
 we see trains arriving and departing. ::teaming along the rocky ledge of the; opposite- 
 height upward towards Montreal or downward on tlu; way to the sea. Just below the 
 Citadel stretches the long massive dock of the Allan Steamship Company, at which, if it is 
 Saturday morning, the Liverpool steamer is lying, getting ready for departure. \'ans 
 loaded with freight or luggage are discharging their contents into the; hold. Passengers 
 are stepping on board to take possession of their cabins, accompanied by friends rc^luctant 
 to say the final adieu. One looks with a strange interest, never dulled by repetiti(jn. 
 at the black hull about to bear its precious frcMght across the wide ocean to " the undt.r 
 world." unwitting of the p(!ril it is going to brave. 
 
 I'Vom the terrace we climb b\- a flight of some two hundred and fift\- steps to 
 the top of the glacis. A path round its grassy slope leads to the enlranc*.' of tin- 
 Citadel itself — ascending from St. Louis Street, built ujj on each side by solid stone 
 walls. Passing through the celebrated chain gates, we find ourselves in the spacious 
 area made by the widened ditch and retiring ba.uion, the level sward lK,-ing used 
 for a parade-ground. On the green sides of the earthwork above the ditch 
 goats are peacefully grazing, giving an aspect of rural trancjuillity that presents a pic- 
 tures<:[ue contrast to the massive portals of Dalhousie (iate, with its guard-rooms built 
 into the thickness of the arch on either side. Entering through it, we are at last 
 
QCEIiKC: IIISTORICAI. AND nESCRIPTIl'li OS 
 
 within tlif Cit;ul«?l itself, which, sprcadiiij,' over forty acrt-s its lahyrinth of ditch and 
 
 earthwork and rampart an<l bastion, impresses us at once with the appropriateness 
 
 of its proud tith; of the Canadian (iibraltar. Ascendinif to the broad gravel walk on 
 
 the top of tlu- Ijaslion, we retrace our steps toward the river by the parallel line of wall 
 
 on the inner side of tht; ilitch, pierced with iMiibrasures for the cannon that commaml 
 
 t\cr\ avenu(; of approach. Passing; on, we take in jrljuipses of tlu; ever-)j;lorious 
 
 \i(W which bursts u|)on us at last in all its maj^MiillciMice, as we stand on the l\inj,f's 
 
 Bastion beside; the llat^-staff, — a view which, take it all in all, it is not too much to 
 
 say is unsurpassed in North America. Quebec — with its quaint contrasts of old 
 
 and new—lii's at our feet, the frinj^c of buildini^s and wharves at the foot of Cape 
 
 Diamond literally so, the remainder of the city clusteriniLj about and up tiie heij^dit, like 
 
 Athens about her Acropolis. Across the river. stucUled with craft of all imaj^dnabU.' 
 
 variety — from the huj^e primitive raft that hardly st^ems to move, to the swift. 
 
 arrowy steam-tug or the stately ocean-ship that spreails her sails to catch th(! breeze 
 
 the eye ascends the heights of i-evis, beyond the masses of railway buildings to the 
 
 undulating curv(,'s in which nt^stle the clusters of tiny I'Vench houses, with their great 
 
 protecting churches ; th(.'n it follows the widening river, stuilded with sails, to the dim 
 
 blue woods and tlistant hamlets of Orleans; on, still, to the bold mountains that 
 
 form s<j grand a background to the cultivated slopes which descend to the long village 
 
 street of the Beauport road, with its church towers guiding the eye to the Mont- 
 
 inorcMicy cleft or cniboncluirc, in which, on a very clear day, you can just discern tlu; 
 
 f.iint white spray ascending from the ball , and farther on, to Cap Tourmente and 
 
 the blue mountain of St. Anne. Nearer, the glance returning takes in the winding 
 
 St. Charles, the outlying suburbs of St. John and St. Roch and .St. Sauveur, the 
 
 (rooked line of the city wall, the green turf and poplars of the Ksplanade, the 
 
 shady grounds and Officers' Quarters of the Artillery Marracks, the Hotel Dieu. 
 
 Laval University with its belfry, the towers of the Basilica, tlu; (jothic turrets of 
 
 the l"!nglish Cathedral , while;, just below, we have a binl's-eye view of Dufferin Terrace 
 
 aiul its pavilions; of the (iovernor's Garden, with the top of Montcalm's nu)nument rising 
 
 above the trees; of the line of Champlain Street and Champlain Market, and the rows 
 
 iif tall French houses that rise; up against the dark, slaty cliff, with its fringe and tufts 
 
 (if scanty vegetation ; of tlu; line of wharves and docks, steamboats and steamships, till 
 
 tli<' ri(;ld of view is sudd(;nly curtailed by tlu- abutments of tlu; cliff on which we 
 
 .itaiul 
 
 Hut there are other points of view, so we pass on along the entrance front of the 
 ( >tlicers' Quarters, a portion of which is set apart for the summer residence of the 
 ("•\(;rnor-General. It is not a \ery imposing vice-regal abode, but the simplicity of 
 'li' accommodation and the restricted space are more than atoned for by the noble 
 vi.tas of river and height and mountain commanded by the deeply-embrasured windows. 
 
 I 
 
96 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 In a line with the Officers' Quarters are the hospital, the magazines and the Observ- 
 atory, where the falling black ball gives the time daily, at one o'clock, to the shipping 
 below. Outside the Governor-General's Quarters, and extending towards the King's 
 Bastion, a platform has been erected which, on summer fete-nights, serves as a prome- 
 nade unique and wonderful, from which " fair women and brave men " look down 
 five hundred feet into the dark abyss below, sparkling with myriads of lights gleaming 
 
 from city, height 
 "~r?^:7^'^ and river. 
 
 At the Prince's 
 Bastion, on the 
 western angle of the 
 fortress, where the 
 " Prince's Feather. " 
 carved in stone, 
 commemorates the 
 
 f 
 
 
 .■X 
 
 K 
 
 "■X^^- 
 
 '■II,. .1 -- ■ •**"•■-.. -V - 
 
 visit of the Prince of Wales, tlic 
 view is still more extensive. West- 
 ward, we look up the ri\er, to the 
 green bluff curving into Wolfe's 
 Cove and Sillery, while across we 
 still have before us the varied line 
 of the opposite heights, with their 
 long street of old I'Vench houses 
 
 creeping just under its wooded sides, antl a little farther to the right you catcii 
 the gleam of the steeples of New Liverpool. 
 
 After the eye has been partially satisfied with gazing on this grand panorama, wo 
 may stroll leisurely along the wall, taking in the ever -shifting views from the variois 
 
 ^ 
 
 \ 
 
 *^ .. '■'•'FiCI.I,./ 
 
\ 
 
 QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 97 
 
 VIEW l-KOM Till'. CITADEL. 
 
 points, and dhscrvinsr the niassi\-eness 
 of tlie bastions and earthworks, thai witli many 
 a bewildering,^ '^'.U^zacr, encompass the central forti- 
 fication. As we pass hack throuo;h the chain ^ates, 
 let us stop to look into the casemates, or rooms 
 built in the interior of the massixc earthwork. One catches 
 a !.^limpse, throuo;h the inter\(Miinij^ darknc^ss, of a lighted in- ■ 
 
 terior, remindinLT us of a Dutch picture, throwinn' a bit of 
 domestic life into strong liorht and shade. Here are rooms where the 
 soldiers and their families reside, the solid earthwork above and around 
 them, deej) windows lettinpr in the light and air. Before leaving the precincts 
 ot the Citadel, take a look at the rock on which it is built— an uneven, circular 
 surface of light gray rock bearing the sonbn'guci of "Hog's Hack." No I'Vench or 
 ancient associations attach to the Citadel, except to one magazine near the Prince's 
 i^astion, the inner portion of which seems to belong to the hVench. ri%n>nc, being 
 I)uilt of rubble, the outer casing only being modern. The plans fot the present 
 Citadel were supervised by the Iron Duke, though he never saw the place. The chain 
 gates let us out into a sort of extension of the ditch, from which we emerge by the 
 
/ 
 
 98 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 MONUMENT TO WOLI'E AND MONTCALM. 
 
 sally-port. From thence, a path leads over the broken ground 
 of the " I'lains " to the ball-cartridge field. As we pass we 
 shall not fail to note the broken grassy curves and mounds that 
 preserve the outlines of the old I'Vench earthworks — the prede- 
 cessors of the present fortifications, — a prom- 
 inent and interesting object. Approach- 
 ing the Martello tower we are obliged 
 to go out on the St. Louis road, or the 
 Ckeniin dc la Grande Alice, as it was called 
 in the old French period. Following this 
 still westward, a turn to the left, between 
 the turnpike and the race-course, takes us 
 down to some barren and neglected-looking 
 ground on which stands Wolfe's monument, 
 and a little farther on, a road leads down- 
 wards to the Cove where Wolfe landed 
 his troops the night before the battle, 
 when even Montcalm at first refused to 
 attach importance to what he thought was 
 
 "only Mr. Wolfe, with a small party, come to burn a few houses, and return." A 
 
 road now winds down the face 
 of the cliff among the strag- 
 gling pines where, in Wolfe's 
 time, there was only a rough 
 gully up which he and his sol- 
 diers scrambled, dragging with 
 them a six - pounder — their only 
 gun — which played no mean 
 part in gaining the victory. 
 Now the quiet bay, with its 
 rafts and lumber-piles and pass- 
 ing craft, is peaceful enough, 
 and in the soft purple light 
 of a summer evening, seems 
 to harmonize less with martial 
 memories than with the asso- 
 ciation with Gray's Elegy be- 
 cpieathed to It by Wolfe, who, 
 TIME-BALL, KROM THE I'KLNCES BASTION. on the night before tho decisive 
 
V 
 
 QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 99 
 
 WOLFE'S COVE. 
 
too FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 action, repeated here, with perliaps some sad presentiment of impending fate, the 
 stanza — 
 
 " The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
 Await alike the inevitable hour — 
 The paths of j^lory lead but to the grave ! " 
 
 Retracing our steps to the St. Louis road, we follow it straight back to the city, 
 noting the fine new pile of buildings erected for the Houses of Parliament, just beyond 
 which we pass through one of the old gates of Quebec, the St. Louis Gate, now 
 massively rebuilt with embrasures and Norman towers — one of the three still to be 
 preserved to the city. But it is not the old St. Louis Gate, with its weather- 
 
 beaten superstructure and zigzag approach. When the excessive newness has somewhat 
 worn off, it will doubtless be much more imposing than its predecessor, and more fitted, 
 like its neighbour, Kent Gate, built at her Majesty's expense, to hold up its head in 
 a progressive age, which does not appreciate dilapidation, however picturesque. 
 
 Passing through St. Louis Gate, with its new Norman turrets, we have to our right the 
 winding ascent to the Citadel and to our left the Ksplanade ; while at the corner of the 
 St. Louis Hotel we are again in the business centre of the uiper town, and soon come 
 to the open area of the Place d'Armes, whence we pass into Buade Street, on which 
 stands the new Post-Office, a handsome building of gray cut-stone, plain but in good taste, 
 with two short Ionic pillars at the entrance. The old Post-Office which preceded it had 
 a history, symbolized by a French inscription under the sign of the Chien d'Or, or 
 Golden Dog, which legendarj- animal still retains his post over the entrance of the present 
 building. This inscription was the expression of the wrongs suffered by the original 
 owner — a merchant named Philibert — at the hands of the Intendant Bigot of unsavoury 
 memory. It ran, in old French — 
 
 "JE SUIS VN CHlF.N QVI RONGE l/OS, 
 
 En I.Ii PONGEANT JE PREN'DS MON REPOS, 
 
 Vn te.ms vieniira (jvi n'kst pas VENV 
 qve je mordrav yvi mavra mdrdv." 
 
 The legend may be freely translated, " I bide »iv time." Poor Philibert was never able 
 to put his threat into execution, his life and his plans for revenge being suddenly brought 
 to an end one day on Mountain Hill, by a sword-thrust from a French officer, no doubt 
 at the Intendant's instigation. The story had a sequel, however. Philibert's brother, 
 who came all the way from Bordeaux as his executor ami blood-avenger, tracked the 
 assassin to his refuge in the I^ast Indies, and slew him there. Champlain's bust, 
 and the symbolic dog over the entrance, with the sign of "The Golden Dog" on an 
 inn close by, connect the new Post-Offic; with the memories of old Quebec, whilr 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTirE 
 
 lOI 
 
 the name of one of the streets at the corner of which it stands — Buade Street — recalls 
 the palmiest days of the I-'rench ;v;>/w<-. under Louis Buade. Count de Frontenac. From 
 here Mountain Hill begins its circuitous descent, and on the opposite side is the old- 
 fashioned-building, originally the Archbishop's Palace, which has been used for many 
 vears as the Parliament Buildings. 
 
 Going down Mountain Hill from hence, we come to the dilapidated stairway, the 
 anticjue, gambrel-roofed buildings beside 
 it being very characteristic of the old city. 
 Hut we will not descend to the lower 
 town, but walk back up Buade Street 
 till we come to what, until re- 
 cently, was the market-place of 
 the upper town, now trans- 
 ferred, however, to the open 
 space in front of St. John's 
 Gate. On one side of 
 the wide, open square, 
 
 KKNT GATE. 
 
 Cathedral is called, linked with some 
 
 stands the Basilica, as the French 
 
 Sr. JOHN'S (.AlK, 
 
 I 
 
 of the oldest memories of the settlement 
 of Quebec. It hardU- looks its age. and 
 is not by any means so imposing as Xotre 
 Dame, of Montreal. It was begun b\' Bishop 
 Laval in 1647. and was consecrated in 1666, 
 under the name of the Church of the Im- 
 maculate Conception. Its massive fafadc, with its tower on one side and its tall spire 
 nil the other, gives an impression of a rare solidity within, and \\\v. loft}' arches of the 
 nave would have a fine effect, if it were not finished in a cold ami tlead florid Renais- 
 sance style, which looks quite out of keeping with the homely anticpiity of the "gray 
 laily of the North." But the main charm of the buikling lies in its long association 
 with the religious life of I'rench-Canada, from the days of Le Jeune an.i De Jogues, 
 
I02 
 
 FR/iXa/ C.L\\l/)/.lX Ur/: ANf) CIIARACTF.R 
 
 Madame ik' la Pcltric and INIaric (\v 1' Incarnation. Within tlic'si! walls many an w^o- 
 
 nizfd \o\v and prayer has i^onc up from the early mart\ rs and heroes ol the Canadian 
 
 Mission for the conversion of lliiron and Irocpiois, and for safet\ from the murilerou. 
 
 attacks of their saxas^e foes. Here, too, have echoetl the Te l)eiims of a j;rat('ful colon\, 
 
 in the joy of some sitjjnal delive'rance or decisixc \ ictory. 1 he 
 
 somewhat i^audy decoration of tlu; present interior seems to 
 
 fade away as we yo back, in thou}i;ht, to tlu; days when the 
 
 bare rafters over-arched the self-exiled worshippers whose 
 
 neeils and enthusiasm minified in pra\t'rs of pathetic earnt'st- 
 
 ness to llim in whose cross and sufferinjrs the\- deemed 
 
 themseKes sharers. 
 
 It is a natural transition from the Basilica to the .Semi- 
 nar)', and a few steps lead throuj^h the massive open iron gates 
 of Laval University, alon«;- the narrow passage that brings 
 us to the door of the .Seminary chapel. This chapel is over 
 a hundretl years oUl, Mr. Le Moine tells us, and its chief 
 historic association is that of having served as a militar)- 
 
 ST. LOLIS (iAII 
 
QUE n EC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 \o' 
 
 attaci' 
 
 ican officers 
 of war in 
 AnidKl and 
 Monti^onicry. I^iit the 
 Seminary was foundc-tl by 
 Bishop Laval in 1663, al)out the time that the Basilica was completed. Laval l'ni\ersity 
 is a secular oft-shoot of the Seminary [)roper, which was founded for theoloi^ical eilucation 
 (inly, — this beino;^ still the object of the Cirami Sciiiiua/rc. The buildings of the Semi- 
 nary enclose the site of the first house built by the first brench settler Hebert, and its 
 i^arden, with the neighbouring streets, occupies the land first cleared for agricultural pur- 
 poses. The University building, with its spacious new wings, extends to the ver\- vxX^^n 
 of the promontory, and from its tower another view can be obtained of the city and its 
 surroundings. 
 
 There is not much to see in the University itself, so we pass out again and retrace 
 our steps to the Little Market Scjuare in front of the Basilica, where stands the long 
 
104 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 row of caltichcs whose drivers, French and Irish, have a keen eye for any passer-by 
 who seems to wear the tourist's air of observation. Just opposite the Cathedral stood 
 until recently the large pile of the Jesuit Barracks — originally the Jesuit College — 
 with its yellow, stuccoed front and grated windows, and a high portal with the time- 
 worn letters " I. H. S." still 
 visible as the mark of its 
 early owners. 
 
 Turning back we pass down 
 St. l-'amille Street, which ex- 
 tends along the eastern side 
 of the Seminary Gardens 
 ami leads to the opening in 
 the wall where but recently 
 stood Hope Gate. Vxom 
 this point there used to be a 
 continuous promenade round 
 the ramparts, which, when 
 the present work of pulling 
 down and rebuilding is com- 
 pleted, will again exist in a 
 greatly improved state, in 
 fulfilment of one of Lord 
 Dufferin's plans for the 
 adornment of Quebec. Hut 
 now we will retrace our 
 steps to the Cathedral 
 Square, and crossing it at 
 its upper end, pass in front 
 of the English Cathedral, 
 a sombre-looking building, 
 with a substantial turret, 
 standing within an old-fash- 
 ioned, shady enclosure. A little farther on we come to a gray, ecclesiastical-looking 
 cluster of buildings around a small green "close," consisting of the old Scottish church, 
 dating from 1810, with its substantial manse and school-house. The group seems to 
 belong to a Scottish landscape as naturally as the greater part of Quebec does to a 
 French one. 
 
 Just opposite the church stands what was the old gaol, associated with some grim 
 memories of the days of political imprisonments, now, through the generosity of Dr. 
 
 LOOKING ACROSS THE ESPLANADE TO BEAUPORT. 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 105 
 
 Morrin, one of Quebec's old citizens, converted into a Presbyterian College, a part of it 
 being devoted to the rooms of the Literary and Historical Society. 
 
 Passing along St. Ursule Street, we come back to St. Louis Street, and, turning 
 the corner of the long range of massive gray stone convent buildings, we reach the entrance 
 to the chapel, at the end of Parloir Street. The Ursuline Convent and gardens occupy 
 no small portion of the space within the walls, and they deserve it by a well-earned 
 right. The chapel of the convent has various interesting reminiscences and associations, 
 religious and artistic, and martial as well. One interesting and suggestive object is a 
 votive lamp, lighted a hundred and fifty years ago by two French officers, on their 
 sisters taking the veil, and kept burning ever since, except for a short time during the 
 siege of 1 759. There are paintings sent from France at the Revolution — one said to be 
 by Vandyke and one by Champagna — and wood carvings, the work of the first Canadian 
 School of Art, at St. Ann's, early in the eighteenth century. Montcalm, taken thither 
 to die, was buried within the convent precincts in a grave dug for him by a bursting 
 shell ; and his skull, carefulh' preserved, is still shown to visitors to the chapel. 
 
 From the Ursuline Convent a short walk brings us back to the Esplanade, between 
 the St. Louis and Kent Gates. Turning into its quiet area, faced by a row of rather 
 sombre-looking private residences, we ascend the slope to the walk that runs along the 
 line of wall. Looking cit)-ward, from one point in our promenade we take in the 
 idyllic view of the tranquil Esplanade, with its poplars and disused guns, the ancient 
 little Jesuit church and the old National school immediately in front : while across 
 the ramparts and the abrupt descent beyond, we catch the blue strip of ri\er between 
 us and Beauport, with white sails skimming across, and the white houses scattered 
 along the green slopes opposite, that end again in a grand mountain wall. Proceeding 
 on from the Esplanade, we walk across the top of Kent Gate and then follow the line of 
 the ramparts to the massive arched portal of St. John's Gate, whence we look down 
 on the busy Montcalm Market immediately below, with its primitive French market- 
 carts and good-humoured French market-women, who will sell you a whole handful 
 of bouquets for a few cents. We have to leave the ramparts soon after passing 
 St. John's Gate, the promenade, which will be continuous, not being yet finished. 
 
 Taking our way back, we return to the square, and engage one of the eager calcchc- 
 drivers to take us out to Montmorency Falls, a nine-mile drive. Ascending to the 
 high-perched seat in the little two-wheeled vehicle, we are soon rattling over the not 
 very smooth thoroughfare of the St. John suburbs, among modern and uninteresting 
 streets — for these suburbs have been again and again laid waste by fire. We pass 
 near the ruins of the old Intendant's Palace, and are soon on Dorchester Bridge, the 
 gray rock of the city rising behind us, the valley of the St. Charles winding away to 
 the north-west. " There," our driver will say, looking up at the river where the tide 
 is rising among some ship-yards, "is where Jacques Cartier laid up his ships." Near 
 
io6 FREXCH CAiXADIAX LIFIi AND CHARACTER 
 
 that point, also, Montcalm's hruli^e of boats crossed tlic rixcr, in 1 75Q, and in a lariujc 
 entrenchnicnt, where once stood the Jesuit Mission 1 louse, the remnants ol his scattered 
 army rallied after th(; battle of the " Plains." l-",\en the ^vc/^vV/r-d rivers arc; anti(iuarian 
 and historical in Ouebec, antl take pride in actins;- the part of cicerone to the venerable 
 associations of the place. 
 
 The memory of Montcalm is associated with many points alonj^ the pleasant road 
 that leatls thronL,di lont^^-stretchinii;- P'rench villaL,'^es, between the tureen meadows that 
 slope u|) to the hills on the one sitle and down to the St. Lawrence on the other. 
 The burnin;;- sun of our Canadian summer, softened here 1)_\- the frecpieiit mists and fot^^s 
 from the sea, tloes not parch the verdure, as it too often does in regions farther in- 
 land. The velvety _L,^reen of the low-l\inir meadows, dotleil and frinj^H-il with ij^raceful 
 elms and bcx'ch and maple, would do no discredit to the Mmeraltl Isle ; and if the 
 villas and fiidds were surrounded b\' hedij^es instead of fences, the landscape mioht easily 
 be taken for an English one. About three miles below (Juebec we pass the Heaupori 
 As)lum. a fme, substantial buildin^^, with a jj^-ood deal of ornamental statuary and other 
 decoration in front, in which a lary^e number of lunatics are cared for uiuler (iovern- 
 ment supervision. Ilert; antl there other residences and s^rounds attract the eye. Tin- 
 most notable in l)\e-L,^one times was the manor-house of old Heauport, recentK' destroyed 
 bv tire, and occupied in 1759 by Montcalm as his head-quarters. .\n old leaden plate 
 was lately fountl in the ruins, bearing an inscription, interesting to antitpiarians. The 
 date of its hrst erection, as given in the plate, proves the ruined mansion to have 
 been older than any e.xisting in Canada to-day, since it preceded by three \ears 
 that of the Jesuits' residence at Sillery. Robert (jiffart, physician antl founder of the 
 Seigniory, figures in a curious old story told b)- the Abbe b'erland, of the enforced 
 penitence and submission of a rebellious vassal — Jean Cuion, or 1 )iop — a letteretl stone- 
 mason, who thought fit to refuse the homage he owed to ( Jiffart, his feudal lord. 'I he 
 vicinity of the ruined chateau bearing such interesting associations, is called La 
 Canardiirc, preserving, in this cognomen, a reminiscence of the time when this Cdffart, a 
 keen sportsman, was wont to bag wild duck in large nundx-rs along the marshy bank of 
 the stream, the "'Ruisscaii dc rOnrs" on which he erected his rude stockaded mansion. 
 
 One or two other chateaux are still inhabited by the representatives of the I'Vench 
 families of the Old Regime. By degrees the scattered mansions, in their settings of 
 green turf and foliage merge into the long lines of Heauport village, its neat, quaint 
 houses, generally of substantial stone, steep - roofed and dormer-windowed, and often 
 completed with the little balcony ; some of them old and weather-worn, others spick and 
 span in gay new paint, and most of them bright with a profusion of flowers in a little 
 plot before the door or in the windows. Behind each little house is its riband-like 
 strip of ground seemingly narrowed down to the smallest space within which a 
 horse could turn ; and here and there may be seen a man at work with the primitive cart 
 
QUEIiliC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIIE 
 
 107 
 
 and sinji[le horsL- all his little farm will sii|)|)()rt which 
 ( arri(!S to market the vejj[(;tal)les that are his chief de- 
 |ienclence. Altoi;^ether, the lii^dit-hearted, open-air lift; of 
 the simple folk carries a pleasant suj^^jj^estion of that 
 so vividly sketched in " Kvanj^eline " and of "/a belle 
 Xoniiandie," without its CJothic churches 
 
 
 WAVSIDK CROSS, AND HKAl'TOKT 
 CULRCH. 
 
 and its peculiar costume. The 
 massive stone huiUlint; that lifts 
 its (rleamintr, protecting; spires 
 hi.;xh above the humble dwellinjrs 
 at its feet, is of no old Norman 
 type, but a plain, strai<.,dit for- 
 ward substantial structure, of the same model on which the French-Canadian churches 
 are generally built. It looks large enough to contain the whole population of a 
 village seven or eight miles long, and doubtless on fete-days it does so. 
 
 Much more quaint and [jicturesque are the tiny wayside chapels and crosses which 
 we occasionally pass — the former sometimes relics of the days when the long village 
 
io8 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 was a hamlet, and glad to have a chapel of the smallest, of its very own ; while the 
 wayside cross, close by, with its sacred symbol of suffering casting its pathetic shadow 
 on the life and brightness around, would be quite in place in a landscape of France or 
 of Southern Germany. 
 
 At last the village of Beauport is left behind, and we skirt an open stretch of 
 field and woodland on either side. Towards the St. Lawrence, which lies broad and 
 blue between us and the richly-wooded Isle of Orleans, is seen a white mansion on a 
 commanding point, just above the Montmorency Falls, which was once occupied by 
 the Duke o\ Kent. Beyond the river and the Isle of Orleans the low blue hills 
 appear, while before us to the left rise the noble outlines of the Laurentians, flecketl 
 with passing gleams of soft light and violet shadow. If we choose to alight, 
 and walk a mile or so across the fields to our left, we come to the " Natural 
 Steps," a succession of rocky ledges, exactly like steps cut in the rock, between 
 which the narrow river sweeps silently on, fringed by a fragrant wood of low spruce 
 and hemlock, soon to brawl and foam over the brown-gray rocks in tiny cascades, 
 before its final plunge. Returning again to the road, and driving on, we come to 
 the wooden bridge across the river, where it dashes itself over its rocky bed, whicli 
 the ndvancing summer leaves half uncovered and dry. Crossing the bridge, we drive 
 some few hundred yards to the little country inn, where carriages put up to await the 
 return of their passengers, who must go the rest of the way on foot. A little 
 farther on is the gate to the pathwa)' leading to the ball, winding along the top of a 
 high bank, fringed with foliage and wild fiowers. Following this path we gradual!) 
 catch a glimpse of slender, snowy streams of foam descending o\er the dark. rock\ 
 precipice. These are the outlying stragglers of the great Fall, and are as beautiful in 
 themselves as some Swiss cascades, one of tliem looking like braided threads of molten 
 silver as It falls over the jutting rocks, and another reminding the tra\eller of the 
 Geissbach. By the time the top of the strong wootlen stairs leading down the rapidly- 
 descending bank is reached the upper part of the main ball is in full view ; though not 
 till we descend two-thirds of really dizzying stair, can it be realized in its entire majest)-, 
 as it makes a sheer plunge, a mass of snowy foam in mad, headlong rush, down the 
 precipice of 250 feet. The illustration, excellent as it is, can hardly convey a true 
 idea of its majestic height as seen from one of the resting-places, about one-third of 
 the distance from below, where we can best appreciate the full sweep and volume — 
 partly cut off, in the illustration, by the intervening rocks. Higher than Niagara, yet 
 on account of its comparatively small volume, it has nothing like the stupendous 
 grandeur of that mighty cataract, but much more of picturesque beauty in its setting- 
 while its greater height is emphasized by its narrower limits. 
 
 At the head of the Fall, on either bank, stand massive stone piers, memorials of a 
 tragedy which occurred there many years ago. A suspension bridge, built across the 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIl'E 
 
 109 
 
 LOOKING TOWARDS (JUKBEC, 
 From Montinorencv. 
 
 top of the Fall, liad l)('f'n too 
 sliirhtly constructed, ami iiad 
 not stood ver\' lon^- before it 
 
 broke asunder while a Jiabitant and his wife were crossing it in their market-cart. 
 They were swept at once over the cataract, never to be seen ai^ain. The bridge 
 was not rebuilt, the two piers still standing, mute monuments of the tragedy. The 
 house already seen above the Fall — associated with the father of our gracious Queen 
 is a conspicuous object from the top of the stair, and the paths laid out in the 
 ijrounds must command noble views. A part of one of the small cascades is used for 
 turning the machiner\- of a saw-mill near by, but the mill itself is kept well out of 
 ^iL,dit. Rafts and lumber piles, however, are prominent features along the shore of the 
 li^cr as it enters the St. Lawrence. 
 
 At the foot of the Fall the famous " Cone," an irregular mound of ice and snow, is 
 
1 lO 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 gradually formed, in winter, b)' the freezini^ spray. It grows till it attains a height so 
 considerable that it serves as tlie favourite tobogganning ground of the gay people of 
 Quebec, who make regular sleighing expeditions to the locality to enjoy this exhil- 
 arating though somewhat dangerous Canadian sport. When the "Cone" and its 
 vicinity are alive with tobogganners — the ladies dressed in bright, becoming costumes, 
 some of them making the dizzy descent in a light cloud of snow, others slowl)' drawing 
 
 MONTMORKNCV RIVER ABOVE lALLS. 
 
 their toboggans up the "Cone" — the scene, in its winter attire of pure, sparkling snow, 
 crusting the dark evergreens and contrasting with the rushing Fall, is at once a grand 
 and pleasing one. 
 
 We turn away reluctantly from the beautiful picture, and in a few minutes are rattlin<; 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE m 
 
 back alonsj;^ the road to Quebec. The city, ? we draw near it, in the evening 
 light, appears to blaze out in a glittering sheen, every tin roof giving back the afternoon 
 sunshine till the whole rock seems irradiated with a golden glory, in strong contrast to 
 \\\('. deep tones of the hills bevond. Graduallv the <Aok\ resolves itself into roofs and 
 liouses, and soon we cross Dorchester Bridge again, when, turning by a side street to 
 the right, we pass through the deserted market-place outside St. John's Gate, and are 
 once more within the city, driving along St. John Street, the chief thoroughfare. 
 
 One of the points of interest in the immediate vicinit\- of Quebec, is the site of the 
 old hunting-lodge of the Intendant Bigot, beyond the village of Charlesbourg. Leaving 
 the main road, we penetrate through a tangled thicket and reach an open glade beside 
 a stream wliere some weather-worn walls, the remains of what is popularly called the 
 Chateau Bigot, stand amid lilac and syringa bushes which still show traces of an old 
 garden. There the wicked Intendant was wont to hold his carousals with his boon com- 
 panions of the hunt, after the fashion describetl in the " Chicii ifOrT It has its legend 
 of a buried hoartl of silver and of a beautiful Huron girl who loved Bigot and died a 
 violent death. But apart from legend, it has a wild grace of its own, with its hoary 
 vestiges of a long-past habitation, and the pine-crowned mountain rising as a noble back- 
 ground behind the surrounding trees. 
 
 Sillery is among the sacred places of Quebec, and a jMlgrimiige thither is one of 
 the pleasantest little excursions one can make from the old cit\'. From the deck of the 
 "James," which plies on the river ijetween Quebec and Sillery, we can look up, first to the 
 old, steep houses massed under the scarped rock that shoots aloft on to Dufferin Terrace, 
 with its watch-towers, and thence to the crowning height of the Citadel. W'e steam slowly 
 past the brown shelving precipice of Cape Diamontl, with its fringe of I'Vench houses 
 and shipping ; past luml)er vessels lifting huge logs from rafts in the stream, beyond 
 the point where, high up on the red-brown rock we can easily read the inscription, 
 "Here Montgomery fell — 1775." Then we pass the green plains, with their broken 
 ground ami old earthworks and Martello tow('rs and observatory and the grim gaol — a 
 conspicuous mass ; then a stretch of ground, covennl with low vegetation, gives place to 
 high-wooded banks and shades, opening, through masses of pine and oak and maple 
 ff)liage, glimpses of pleasant country-seats. Opposite, from the curving point of Levis, 
 ilu' eye follows height after height, rich, rounded, wooded hills, at the foot of which, 
 just o[)posite, lies the busy village of New Liverpool, with its massive and finely- 
 trescoed church. 
 
 But we must leave Sillery, with its sacred and stirring memories, and drive up the 
 I'lliage-clail height which makes so effective a background. A gradual ascent above 
 the residence, soon brings us to the level ground above, to the pretty, foliage-embowered 
 St. Louis road, where we pass the pine-shaded glades of Mount Hermon Cemetery. 
 Spencer Wood is one of the charming country residences of which we catch a passing 
 
1 12 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
QUEBEC: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 113 
 
 glimpse, and its bosky recesses and bright gardens are the scenes of many a pleasant 
 f(Jte for the beau viondc of Quebec, under the hospitable auspices of the Lieutenant- 
 (iovernor of the day. As we draw nearer the city, cross-roads give us glimpses of 
 the grand mountain landscape to the north, and of the Ste. P'oye road, which leads by an 
 extremely pretty drive to the Ste. Foye monument, on an open plateau on the brow of 
 the cliff overhanging the valley of the St. Charles. The monument, a slender Doric 
 pillar crowned by a bronze statue of Bellona, presented by Prince Napoleon on the 
 occasion of his visit to Canada, commemorates the battle of Ste. Foye, between Levis 
 and Murray — the final scene in the struggle between French and English for the pos- 
 session of Canada — and also marks the grave of those who fell. It bears the inscription, 
 "Aux braves de 1760, ei/<^e par le Societe St. Jean Baptiste de Qiidbec, i860." 
 
 About two and a half miles along the Ste. Foye road lies the Belmont Cemetery, 
 the burying-place of the great Roman Catholic churches — the Basilica and St. Jean 
 baptiste. There, under the solemn pines, sleeps, among many of his compatriots, the 
 noble and patriotic Garneau. the historian of French-Canada. With a visit to his tomb 
 we may appropriately close our wanderings about this historic city. 
 
 AUX BRAVES. 
 
114 
 
 FRF.XCIf CANADIAX IJFF. AND ClfARACTFR 
 
 FALLS OK MONTMOKKNCY. 
 
SOUTHEASTERN QUEBEC 
 
 H3 
 
 ■'* V--. 'i^ite/ gr^ 
 
 \ :..^X^ > 
 
 ROUGEMONT AND VALLEY. 
 
 SOUTH-EASTERN QUEBEC. 
 
 Q IRK rCHING away south-easterly from the St. Lawrence to the New filnirland 
 frontier, and on other two siili^s bounded by the Rivers Richelieu and Chaudiere, 
 lir^ one of the fairest tracts of Old Canada, b'onnin^- the core of it, lie the freeholds 
 |>t the l^astern Townships; and they are frinj^ed on three sides by the old tiefs of Louis 
 XI \'. Alt();.;ether, there may be ten thousand scjuare miles in the tract. A land of 
 river and plain; of mountain, and tarn, ami lake, and valley; but first and chieHy a 
 rivcr-land. Along its northern shore sweeps the micrhty St. Lawrence, now deploying 
 
ii6 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 into a lake ten iniles wide, and then calling in his battalions for that majestic, resistless 
 march Kj the sea. And down to the swelling tide of the St. Lawrence hasten — besides 
 brooks or streams innumerable — half a dozen goodly rivers, the Richelieu, Yamaska, St 
 Francis, Nicolet, Hccancoiirt, Chaudiere. Were we to climb these rivers through their 
 beautiful winding glens, we should meet foaming rapids and dizzy cascades ; then quiet 
 pools within lofty walls of verdure, antl delightful shadowed reaches where speckled trout 
 still linger; yet higher among the mountains we should find such romantic lakes as 
 Brome, Memphremagog, Massawippi, and Megantic. 
 
 Throughout this land, the strata have been much shaken and changed by some 
 Titanic force, — seemingly steam heated beyond the scale of aii)- pyrometer, and tortured 
 under pressure which would be inadequately gauged by thousands of tons to the square 
 inch. Sir William Logan traced a line of tlislocation from Missis({uoi Hay on Lake 
 Champlain to Point Levis, along which the wrenching asunder of strata is equivalent 
 to a vertical displacement of many thousands of feet. Westward of this line of 
 rupture,— which we shall call Logan's Line, — the sedimentary rocks that were directly 
 exposed to incandescent steam softened, rearranged their elements, and ran to a 
 glassy or stony paste. Under the enormous pressure below, the surface strata presently 
 cracked and sometimes opened wide. Instantly, into the cracks antl fissures rushed thi 
 pasty rock, forming dykes of trachyte or diorite. In places, the very granite founda- 
 tions of the world seem to have softened, ami followed the sedimentary rocks to iht 
 surface. Where the ground yielded most, stately j)\ raniids of mountain-protoplasm were 
 born. It is to such throes of Mother Earth we owe the beautiful sisterliood of Heloil 
 Mountain and \'amaska, Rougemont and Mount Monnoir; the Houcherville Mountains. 
 and Mont Royal itself. Eastward of Logan's Line, more intense- still nnist have been 
 the energy that girdled Lake Memphremagog with such soaring peaks as Mount 
 Orford, Owl's Heatl, and Elephantis. Within historic times, some severe earthcpiakes 
 have shaken this area, but even the most \ioleiit were gentle pastime compared 
 with the elemental wars of geological anti(|uity. To be sure, every one was frightened 
 by these earthepiakes, but then no one was killed. I-rom the records of the old Jesuit 
 Mission on the St. Francis, we learn that on the fifth of September, 1732, the Indian 
 Village was so rudely shaken as to destroy its identity; of this " bouleversement," 
 traces are still discernil^le on both sides of the ri\er. More general, and far more 
 violent, was the famous earthquake of 1663. On the fifth of February, began a series 
 of convulsions which did not quite disappear till mitlsummer. Land-slides occurred all 
 along the river-iianks, and the blue .St. Lawrence ran white as far down as Tadousac. 
 Every one explained the phenomenon in his own way. At Montreal, not a few ceii- 
 sciences were smitten for having sold fire-water to the Indians. The Indians, howev' r, 
 declared that the shades of their forefathers were struggling to return to the earthlv 
 Hunting Grounds ; and, most undutifully, they kept firing off their muskets to scare thi ii' 
 
SOUTHEASTERN QUEBEC 
 
 117 
 
 Ht;Ui:il, MOUNTAIN, i Ku.M KICHliLlEU KIVLK. 
 
 uiKiuiet sires ; for, (luoth the musketeers, it's plain to see there's not yamc enouorh 
 on earth for both of us ! 
 
 Some ancient hurly-burl\- of the rocks has here hrousjjht witliin convenient reach 
 a' vast variety of tliinq-s useful or ornamental. If you are house-l)uiklin>,r, \ou liave 
 limestone for the foundation, cla\- for bricks, and sand and lime for mortar; granite for 
 ihe lintels and window-sills, or for the wliok; house; if you like ; magnesite for cements ; 
 slate for your roof ; serpentine and verd-anti(|ue for )<)ur mantles. Then, as for 
 metals, we find chromic iron at Melbourne, and in Bolton and Ham; manganese in 
 Stanstead ; the copper ore of Acton has long been famous ; and gold has been found 
 
ii8 FRF.MCff CANADIAN LIFE AND CIIARACTFR 
 
 in notable quantity on the upper course of the Chaudifere, and around its fountain, 
 Lake Megantic. Not even are gems altogether absent : jasper is found at Sherbrooke ; 
 and beautiful little green garnets, like miniature emeralds, have been picked up in Orford, 
 
 This land was hrst seen of Europeans three centuries and a half ago. Let us 
 for a little view it through the keen, searching eyes of Captain Cartier, the famous 
 St. Malo seaman. He had a few days ago reached Stadacona, the Indian i)recursor of 
 Quebec. Donnacona, the Indian lord of the soil, tried to dissuade him from going 
 farther ; but, laughing aside all fears and obstructions, Cartier would explore for him- 
 self the great river of Hochelaga, and would see that Indian metropolis of which the 
 fame had reached him down by the Gaspe shore. On the 19th of September, 
 1535, leaving the two largest of his three vessels in the River St. Charles, the explorer 
 pushed up stream with two boats and the Fmcrillon. This ship was named from the 
 little falcon that in I^nglantl was called the Merlin : — ^indeed, a craft of forty tons 
 would seem to us a land-bird, rather than a bird of the ocean. Over the St. Lawrence 
 now hover great sea-fowl, of more than a hundred times the Merlin s tonnage ; but 
 pray remember it was the Merlin led the way. The staunch little ship had bravely 
 ridden the violent storms of the outward passage ; outliving one of her consorts, she 
 would return to I*" ranee ; and, six years hence, she would again be put in commission 
 for Cartier's third cruise to Canada. 
 
 In the discoverer's party were not only weather-beaten tars of Normandy and 
 Brittany, but some of the young noblesse of the court of l^Vancis the First. There 
 were Claude du Pont-Briant, — Chief Cup-bearer to the Dauphin, — Charles de la Pom- 
 meraye, and others of the jeiinesse don'e of that gay epoch. Their dreams were of 
 romantic adventure, and, at the farther end, rich Cathay, or, as they called it, La Chine ; 
 to these Argonauts La Chine was the land of the Golden Fleece, and now they were 
 surely on the road thither. If you ascend the St. Lawrence on a sunny afternoon in the 
 autumn, the chances are that you, too, may fall into some such day-dream. As the rock 
 of Quebec faded from sight, the river-banks became clothed with such loveliness as 
 stirred the St. Malo seaman. There were park-lands wooded with " the most beautiful 
 trees in the world"; and the trees were so trellised with vines and festooned with 
 grapes that it all seemed the work of man's hand. Indeed, human dwellings now 
 became numerous, and fishermen were seen taking frequent toll of the river. With 
 great heartiness and good-will the natives brought their fish to Cartier's little squadron. 
 Presently a sharp current was felt on reaching the river-elbow unat now bears the 
 classical name of Pointe Platan. Just above was a sanll, as yet only known or named 
 of Indians, but a century later its hurrying waters would reflect the unquiet spirit 
 of the time, and be called the Richelieu Rapid. It is still the custom with our sailors 
 to wait for the flood-tide in taking this dangerous gateway. The little Merlin wisely 
 dropped anchor. 
 
SOUTHEASTERN QUEBEC i'9 
 
 " Scarce could Artfo stem it : wherefore they, 
 It lieinjr but early, anchored till mid-day, 
 And as they waited, saw an eddy rise 
 Where sea joined river, and before their eyes 
 The i)attlc of the waters did begin. 
 So, seeinjj the mighty ocean best therein, 
 W( ighing their anchor, tiiey made haste to man 
 Doth oars and sails, and therewith flying, ran 
 With the first wave of the great conqUL-ring llood 
 Far up the stream, on whose banks forests stood 
 Darkening tiie swirling water on each side." 
 
 While the French explorers still lay at anchor they were encompassed by a flotilla 
 of canoes. One brought the Grand Seigneur — as Cartier calls him — of the country, which 
 is now occupied by the Eastern Townships and the enclosing seigniories. His village 
 on Pointe Platon was called Ochelay. By signs and gesticulations the Indian chief 
 pictured the dangers of the rapid. As a conclusive proof of his sincerity, the lord 
 of Ochelay offered the French commander two of his children for adoption ; and 
 Cartier chose a little girl of seven or eight years. The poor mother's heart seems to 
 have been ill at ease ; for, when the explorers returned to Quebec, she went down 
 the river to see how it fared with her child. 
 
 Cartier's journal and description of the Ste. Croix River were, two centuries and a 
 half ago, read to mean that the discoverer spent the woful winter of 1535-6 under Pointe 
 Platon, and that his vessels lay in the estuary of the river which enters the St. Lawrence 
 from the opposite bank. So that to this day the parish on the south bank is called 
 Ste. Croix, and the opposite river is called Jacques Cartier. But Champlain, in 1608, 
 cleared up this question by finding near Quebec the remains of Cartier's winter en- 
 campment, and three or four cannon-balls. When, despite the Convention of Susa, 
 Admiral Kirkt pounced on Quebec, it set Champlain thinking that if ever he got 
 Canada back, the country would have more than one bastion for its defence. Resto- 
 ration having been made by the Treaty of St. Germain, the Governor set to work, in 
 1633, and fortified the little island that commands the gateway of Pointe Platon, — 
 calling island and fort " Richelieu," in honour of the great Cardinal who had just 
 chartered the " New Company of One Hundred Associates." More than two centuries 
 ;ii,fo, Champlain's Fort Richelieu had already mouldered into oblivion, but river pilots 
 still call the swirling water here the Richelieu Rapid. In early days the island pro- 
 duced such a profusion of grapes, that Cartier's description of Orleans Island was 
 misapplied to Isle Richelieu, thus completing the confusion in the discoverer's narrative. 
 And this brings us back to 1535. 
 
 After passing the rocky gateway of Pointe Platon the St. Lawrence widened, and 
 ihen the country seemed to our Jason and his Argonauts a very land of enchantment. 
 
120 FRIiXC/f CANADI:LV UF/i AND ClfARACTliR 
 
 No wonder. The genial September sun, the cloudless skies, the blue waters of the 
 nii>j;hty river h(!re y^cMitly drawinj^r the shores miles apart; ami then the towerinj^ 
 forests on either hank with their lonjj; vistas of verdure and romantic gloom, — the St. 
 Malo seaman might well declare it "as fair a laud as heart could desire!" Cartier and 
 his brother-in-law, Mark Jalobert, were practised pilots. With thi;ir yawls and sound- 
 ing-lines they would speedily find that the channel lay half a league off the south 
 bank. At times they were near enough to ilislinguish our native trees. Tht-re were seen 
 lordly oak-forests, the memory of which is still preserved in the two Rivieres du Chine. 
 As the Mcrliu climbed the river, the south bank fell, and then there were stale- 
 ly elms whose long tresses swayed in the breeze and toyed with the laughing 
 water. Within recesses of the shore were descried wild swans swimming among 
 the willows. From the marshes beyond rose cranes and the great blue heron, 
 disturbed in their dreams by this inauspicious Merlin, startled from their ancient 
 haunts by the spectre of civilization! The young '\^eti(ilz homtnes" must go ashore 
 and spy out this La h1 of Promise; and like; those who in the ancient days spied out 
 Canaan, our adventurers returned from this Valley of ICshcol fairly borne down with a 
 load of grapes. In their excursions they thought they had seen the sky-lark soaring 
 from the meadow-land. While within the shadow of the walnut-trees, day-dreams of clear 
 Old France came strong upon them, and they declared that in this New F'rance there 
 were the same sweet warblers as they many a time heard — but, alas, some of them, poor 
 lads, would never hear again — in the royal parks of St. Germain and b'ontainebleau, — 
 linnets, and thrushes, and blackbirds; aye, and roiissipiolz, — "nightingales"! Our melo- 
 dious song-sparrow was mistaken for a nightingale ; so to this hour you may hear in 
 old French Canada, and in the Eastern Townships, the sweet notes of the "rossignol." 
 
 Nine of these delightful September days were loitered away in exploring the St. Law- 
 rence from the rock of Quebec to the foot of a lake into which the river now opened. 
 But to many, if not most, of those gallant fellows, — " Ics prhicipauix ct bons compaigmvis 
 que notes cussions" says Cartier, brushing away a tear, — this would be their last summer 
 upon earth ; then why begrudge them a few sunny hours ? Their commamUr called the 
 water into which they now glided Lac d^AngoiilCmc, — doubtless after the ancestral earldom 
 of Francis the First. Sixty-eight summers later. Champlain was exploring the river anev;, 
 and, as he then supposed, for the first time. He reached this point on St. Peter's Day, — 
 29th June, 1603, — and so from that hour to this the water has been called Lake .St. Peter. 
 
 What the earlier navigator viewed from the top of Mont Royal, Champlain ex- 
 plored in detail. And first, that arrowy river which, after shooting past the towering 
 Beloeil, entered Lake St. Peter. When the great Cardinal-Duke of Richelieu became 
 ''Chef, Grand Maisfre, ct Sjir-Intendant General of French Commerce and Navigation," 
 the River of the Iroquois and the archipelago at its mouth took his name; but in 
 1603, and all through Champlain's narratives and maps, this water-course is Rivitre des 
 
sour If EASTERN Oi 'EH EC 
 
 I 21 
 
 
 ', _..itj»f;,...,.;. 
 
 "''«(iaAnM" 
 
 — ..;t& 
 
 CHAMHl.V-THK OLD lOKT, AND CIIAMHLY KAIMOS. 
 
 
 f: 
 
 ,?:t. 
 
 BASTION OF FORT. 
 
 lieu and St. Lawrence. 
 It formed a kind of naval 
 cl(.'[)ut, and thus antici- 
 pated by nearly three 
 
 Yiocois. It led directly to the lanil of the 
 Mohawks, the most easterly of the Five 
 Nations ; and. as the most easterly, the Mo- 
 hawks were, in Indian 
 metaphor, the "Door" of 
 that " Loni; I louse " which 
 stretched from the Hud- 
 son to the Niagara. 
 
 Hut these sprightly- door- 
 keepers were not content 
 to stand at their arms. 
 In 1603, Champlain fouiul 
 that the\' were preparing^ 
 an invasion of Canada, and 
 that, l)y way of precaution 
 a_i;ainst them, an inclosure 
 had been stron^K' stock- 
 aded by the AlL^onquins at 
 the junction of the Riche- 
 
 if'r^SfS(P^f^rrf^^.^-^--:iis^--'^^r 
 
 MONUMENT TO DK SALAUKRKY 
 
 centuries the present 
 
 river-lleets and ship-yards of Sorel. As he ascendetl the Riclu^lieu, Champlain, tindinij 
 
 the current too strong for his boat, attemptt-d to make his \sa\ along the banks : 
 
 " Tluougli woods and waste lands cleft by stormy streams, 
 Past yew-trees, and the heavy liair ol |)Mies. 
 And where the dew is thickest under o.iks, 
 This way and that; bnt questing up and down 
 Thev saw no trail." 
 
 \Vitb the aid of a light skiff, Champlain got two leagues farther, but here met 
 
12; 
 
 F/^/^Xai C.IX.IDIAX LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 violent rapids, wliich have since been levellccl up by the o^reat clam at St. Ours. For 
 the present his e.xploration must be abandoned ; but si.x years hiter he was here 
 again. He must meantime content himself with questioning the Indians as to the un- 
 discovered country to the south and west. In language that he but imperfectly 
 understood they told him of a chain of lakes; and sounding through these lines of his 
 narrative, we, in 1603, for the first time recognize the mighty voice of the distant 
 Niagara. (// descend 11 n orandissinie courant dean dans le diet hu.) 
 
 At his second visit, (1609,) Champlain coasted in a more leisurely way the south 
 shore of Lake St. Peter. He explored for some little distance the rivers Dupont 
 (Nicolet), and Gennes (Vamaska), admiring their scenery and the luxuriant vegetation 
 of their banks. The Dupont we take to have been named, seventy-four years before, 
 as a compliment to Dupont-Briant, whom Cartier mentions among the )oung jioblessc 
 of his Hochelaga expedition. More than a centurj' afterwards — i)robably in 1643 — 
 this beaut'ful and romantic river was named anew ; this time, " Nicolet," after a much 
 nobler and more serviceable fellow than the Chief Cup-bearer to his Highness the 
 Dauphin. By the way, our Most Serene Dauphin found a sudden death in his cups. 
 
 Francis the First declared that his son hatl 
 been poisoned by the contrivance of his 
 great adversary, the Emperor Charles V ; 
 but the cooler view of the matter is that 
 the young man took cramps from gulp- 
 ing down ice -water. So pass t,ff the 
 stage Dauphin, his Ganymede, and our 
 River Dupont ! 
 At his second visit Champlain rested two 
 davs at the mouth of the Richelieu. The 
 Iroquois of the Mohawk Valle\' wvyv making 
 determined efforts to regain tlu'ir ancii-nt con- 
 trol of the St. Lawrence. To tlu' .Algonciuiii 
 tribes ncnv in possession the arrival of a few 
 I'rench warriors was a lucky windfall. Cham- 
 plain above all things desired to explore the 
 countr\-, and was thus beguiled into leading an 
 Algonciuin foray into the undiscovi-rcd land 
 that lay to the south. After his party 
 nad heartened themselves for coming toils 1)\ 
 abundant venison, fish, and game, he began the ascent of the Richelieu. It was 
 early in July, 1609. On the lower river-islands oaks ami walnuts towered aloft, and 
 groined out into great domes of foliage. Into their shadows glided the flotilla; then 
 
 OLD CHURCH AT IBKRVII.LE, 
 
.SY^^ "ni EASTERN QUEBEC 
 
 123 
 
 ■4'- 
 
 v' 
 
 ■^ 
 
 into tlic deeper shadows of Rela'il, which 
 Champlain marked on his map as vioiit 
 fort. Now Chamhly Basin was discovered 
 with its parquet of meadows and a rising 
 amphitheatre of woods. At the farther end 
 the river entered then, as now, with foam- 
 ing current, throwing the beautiful lake into gentle undulations, and on its heaving 
 bosom islets of brilliant verdure shimmered like emeralds. With infinite; fatigu*; a 
 portage was made through the forest around Chambly Rapids, which are now so 
 easily surmounted by the Chambly and St. Johns Canal. Above the -apids, in 
 mid-river, was the island since called Ste. Therese. It is now a sunny i)asturaee , 
 but at its discovery, in 1609, it was all a grove of what Champlain declares the 
 noblest pines he had ever beheld. Thence past the site of the future St. Johns; 
 and past the afterwards historic lie aux Noix; then, rounding Rouse's Point. Cham- 
 plain led his llotilla of twenty-four canoes into the lake-fountain of the Richelieu. 
 Altogether, a sight to stir one's blood on a bright July morning: the new-found lake 
 with its glittering waters and its diadem of mountains; llu; wooded islands anil shores 
 in the full glory of their summer leafage ; the teeming life of lake ami forest. And 
 mark the arrowy llight of the canoes under the sweeping stroke of those swart 
 athletes ! They have already bounded over the water-front of Canada, but in tlu; 
 wake of yonder canoes is following a perilous surf of bordt-r-wars. Into the undertow 
 will be drawn all who approach these waters; — not alone Indians, but I'rench, Dutch. 
 English, Americans ; and more than two centuries will pass over before these shores 
 'iijoy a lasting peace. Hut of all this our old Governor IkuI no thought. He had 
 just made his first ac(|uaintancc with a gar-pike; was remarking on its "bill" and 
 vicious teeth ; was thrusting at its armour with his poniard. As he coursed down 
 
124 FRFiNCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 the lake he was much eiiij^rossed with the magnificent scenery on either hand. To 
 tlie west hi\ tiie Adirondacks, the ancient homestead of the Aljj^onquin warriors who 
 were his companions. Their forefathers ileserted that picturesciue wilderness for 
 the (i^entler shores of Hoch('laL,M, drixint;- before them the then unwarlike lro(|U()is. 
 whom Cartier had found tishini^-. corn-plantinn', and road-making. ContrastinL,^ their 
 own belter fare with that of im])ro\ idcnt and often famished Algoncpiins, the 
 Iroquois had nicknametl them .-/^//;7';/r/r?r/'.v, — " Hark ICaters." Once in Canada, the 
 Adirondacks became' fused into the other Algon([uin tiibes that occupied the banks of 
 the Ottawa ; but the ancient nickname still happil)' adheres to thtiir old mountain 
 home. Through Emerson's muse those peaks have won a name in literature, as well 
 as on maps ; but on that morniny, and long afterwards, they were "Titans without 
 muse or name." Then awa\- on his left Champlain saw the soaring peaks of the 
 Green Mountains, which, through the French verts liioii/s, have given name to the State 
 of Vermont The discover(?r remarked, though a July sun was shining, that their 
 summits were white with snow. His Canadian warriors sighted the Iroquois one 
 night at ten o'clock, and dawn brought an encounter on the headland which after- 
 wards Ijecanie historic as Crown I'oint. Champlain and his two l-Vench soKliers 
 shared the fray, ami then, for the lirst time, these solitudes lu'ard the soimd of tire- 
 arms. Loadtnl with four slugs and tired into a crowd at thirty paces, their an/ucfiusrs 
 scattered the Mohawks like wild pigeons. W'hih,' the panic lasted Champlain hurried 
 down the lake, and back to the St. Lawrence. To commemorate his discovery and ad- 
 venture, the lake was b)- himself named Cham])lain. He was b\- no means of the 
 mind to give alms to oblivion : his wife's name is preservetl in St. Helen's Island : 
 and the river St. I'rancis once l)ore his father's name, iXntoine, though by 16S5 the 
 old sea-captain hatl alread}- lost his grip on fame, ami tlu- rixcr had passed over to 
 the patron saint of the .\b(Miakis Indians. 
 
 Among Champlain's contemporaries was Jean Nicoh-t, who ne\'er rose to be 
 archon. but \et b(;came cpo)ty)iins of lake, riv(!r, town, antl count)- in the tract we arc 
 <lescril)ing. A natixe of CherI)ourg, he emigrated to Canada when \-oung to become 
 an interpreter. L'tterl\- de\-oitl of fear, he lixcd eleven years among the Indians, 
 and took a full share of every danger and hardship. Of this life nini- years were 
 .spent among the Xipissings, tliat nation of wizards. Henceforward, Xicolet himselt 
 was a wizard. \\\ the sorcer\- of fair ck^aling, and b\- the enchantment of truthfi 
 words, 'he gained a most e.\traordinar\' ascendancy over the native races, ;ind bee; 
 the great peace-mak(u- of his time. He composed for the remainder of his life the oh 
 deadl)- feud between Algon<piin antl Irocpiois. He had gi\en these wild men " metli 
 cine" to make them lo\-e him; it was his limpid honesty of s|)i'ech and purpose. Ii 
 only one e.xtraordinary emergenc)' tlid he add scenic effects; and, mark you, he wa 
 then on a foreign embassy. The Hurons had become embroiled with a tribe on thi 
 
 Ii 
 mil 
 
SOUTHEASTERN QUEBEC 
 
 12 = 
 
 OWL'S HKAU, KKUM LAKK MKMI'HKKMAtJUG. 
 
126 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 called them. Inill of 
 the dream of th(> time, 
 Jean thought " Mer " 
 must be the Chinese Sea ; and to caparison himself for an interview w ith the 
 Mandarins, he bought a robe of Chinese damask, embroidered in colours with a 
 wild profusion of birds and flowers. Father \'imont's description of this tlroll outfit 
 was evidently written after a near view ; and, between the lines, you can hear the 
 worthy father chuckling at the bare thought of it. Arrived on the farther shore 
 of Lake Michigan, honest Jean set up, as an earnest of peace and good-will, two 
 Christmas-trees, laden with frifts. He then harnessed himself into his Chin(^se flower- 
 garden and aviar\-. Hut, doubting how the Mandarins of Creen Hay might re- 
 ceive him. h(? took in each hand one of the tremendous pistols of that era, and. send- 
 ing forward his Huron companions, ad.vanced towards the yet unseen metropolis. 
 I'he nerves of the Winnebago ladies were unecjual to the strain thus cast upon them : 
 tlu'\- ran from wigwam to wigwam, screaming, "A bogie is coming, thunderbolt in eacii 
 hand!" This startling prelude over, Nicolet got together tlie chiefs, and soon won 
 them o\('r to friendship with \.\\v. Ilurons. After "planting the Tret; of Peace," and 
 throwing earth on the buried tomahawks, he retununl to his home at Three Rivera 
 Though Xicolet did not reach tht; Chinese .S(.'a, he had found tlut Wisconsin River, 
 and all bid foiiml tlic Mississippi. Indeed, Mr. (iilmary Shea awards him the honour 
 of first (liscoxcrv. 
 
 Seven or eight \'ears after this, Nicolet, thtMi at Quebec, received urgent woid 
 from Governor Montmagny that the Algonquins at Three Rivers had captun d 
 
SOUrHEASTERN OUEBEC 
 
 127 
 
 ;i Sokoki Indian, and wore about to burn him alive. A storm was raging on the St. 
 Lnwrcncc, but instantly Nicolet was down to the river, entreating the owner of a 
 sliullop to put out. They had passed the mouth of the Cliaudiere, and were abreast 
 of .Sillery when the craft was blown over, and Nicolet was swept ilown the river. The 
 survivor re[)ortcd that th(; drowning man's thoughts were not of himself, but of his 
 wife and daughter. So. onward I thou simple, heroic soul, past the River of Death 
 ami the (ireat (ndf, to the .Shoreless Ocean ! 
 
 To a modern tourist who <nt('rs Canada for the first time by the route of Lake 
 Champlain, then; is something very startling in the sudden change of names as he passes 
 from Xew York or X'ermont to the valley of the; Richelieu. With his usual artistic 
 vi\idness, Thoreau expresses th(; effect produced on his mind ; — " To me coming from 
 New Enghunl it a[)peared as Normandy itself, and realized much that had been heard 
 of Kurojx' and the Middh- -Ages. Even the names of the humble Canadian villages 
 affected me as if they had been those of the renowned cities of anticpiil)-. To be told 
 by a habitant, when 1 asked the name of a village in sight, that it is .SV. Fcrcol or Ste. 
 Ainii\ the iiuardia)i Am^cl, or the Holv St. Joicplis; or of ;i mountain that it was 
 Bc/aiiot- or .S7. 1 lyaiiiilhc ! As soon as we leave the .States these saintly names begin. 
 St. Johns is the first town you stop at, and henceforth the names of the mountains, 
 
 1 
 
 MOUNT OUKOKl). 
 
128 rRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 and streams, and villages reel, if I may so speak, with the intoxication of poetry : 
 Chambly, Longiieuil, Pointe-aiix-Trembles, Harthelemi, etc., as if it needed only a 
 little foreign accent, a few more liquids and vowels perchance in the language to 
 make or locate our ideals at once. I began to dream of Provence and the Trouba- 
 dours." 
 
 So far the Hermit of Walden. But underlying what he calls " saintly names." 
 there was in the Richelieu Peninsula a fervent military feudalism. Through this 
 cassock gleamed a steel cuirass. Though the splendid illusions of the Old Regime 
 have long since faded, the haughty names of that epoch still kindle with an after- 
 glow. By the mere names of these villages, towns, and seigniories, you may conjure 
 back Louis Quatorze and Versailles ; the state-craft of Colbert ; the soldiers of 
 Turenne and Vauban. Picketed around the ancient rendezvous at the confluence of 
 the Richelieu and St. Lawrence are the officers of the Carignan-Salieres, as though 
 still guarding the Iroquois River-Gate and the approaches to Montreal : — Captain 
 Berthier, Lieutenant Lavaltrie ; Boucher, Varennes, Vercheres, Contrecoeur. Twilight 
 in these ancient woodlands awakens sleeping echoes and dead centuries ; with the ris- 
 ing night-wind the whole place seems 
 
 " Filled as with shadow of sound, with the pulse of invisible feet." 
 
 Through the forest aisles ring out elfin trumpet-calls ; we hear the r^veilli! of ghostly 
 drums beating; the prancing of phantom horses; the clinking of sabres; the measured 
 tread of Louis the P^ourteenth's battalions. At roll-call we hear officers answer to fami- 
 liar names: — "Captain Sorel?" — "Here!" — "Captain St. Ours?" — "Here!" — "Captain 
 Chambly?" — "Here!" — And in good truth most of them are still here. In the soft 
 grass of God's Acre they are resting, surrounded b\- those faithful soldiers who in 
 death, as in life, have not deserted them. Together these veterans fought the Turk 
 in Hungary, and drove him into the Raab ; together they chased the Iroquois up the 
 Richelieu, and down the Mohawk Valley ; and, after van and rear had passed a 
 darker valley and an icier flood, they mustered here at last in eerie bivouac together, 
 During the summer and autumn of 1665 the soldiers of the Carignan-Salieres 
 may have been seen working like beavers along the banks of the Richelieu, cuttiiii,^ 
 down trees and casting up earthworks. By the following year a line of five forts had 
 been completed, — Richelieu (Sorel), St. Louis (Chambly), St. Therese, St. Jean, St. 
 Anne. The first, occupying the site of the Chevalier Montmagny's old fort, com- 
 manded the mouth of the river; the last commanded the outlet of Lake Champlain, 
 and stood on the island still called La 'Motte after the Captain who directed the 
 work. With this bridle of forts well in hand, Louis XIV hoped to rein in the wikl 
 Iroquois, just as the Wall of Severus was meant as a snaffle for the wild Caledonian, 
 
SOUTHEASTERN QUEBEC 129 
 
 Settlements of the legionaries and their captains were formed behind the Roman 
 Wall ; so our centurions and their soldiers occupied seigniories and fiefs under cover 
 of these river-forts. 
 
 The officers' sons and daughters inherited the high spirit of their race, and were 
 often remarkable for adventurous and heroic qualities. Lieutenant Varennes married 
 little Marie Boucher, daughter of a brother officer, who was then Governor of Three 
 Rivers. One of their sons was that Ensign Varennes de Verendrye, who, fighting 
 like a lion under Marshal Villars at Malplaquet, was left for dead on the field, but 
 revived nevertheless, and was consoled for his nine wounds with a lieutenancy, and 
 returned to Canada; next we hear of him on Lake Nipigon ; then on the Kaminis- 
 tiquia; now he has reached Lake Winnipeg, is building a fort, and is floating the 
 first fleur de lis on those waters ; is the first to explore the Saskatchewan ; is the 
 first to behold the Rocky Mountains. And what school-child in Canada has not read 
 or heard of Madeleine Vercheres, who, at fourteen years of age, beat off the Iroquois 
 from her father's fort, and for a whole week maintained her vigil on the bastion until 
 help came up from Quebec ? 
 
 The first commandant and seigneur of Chambly seems to have left his heart in 
 France, for he made over his whole estate to Mademoiselle Tavenet, — to be hers at 
 once if she shared his fortunes in Canada ; in any case, to become hers after his 
 death. The charming Tavenet preferred to wait ; but it is doubtful whether the estate 
 ever reached her. A few words more will dispose of the gallant Jacques Chambly : 
 appointed by Frontenac to the chief command "as a most efficient, and as the oldest 
 officer in the country"; promoted by Louis XIV^ to the Governorship of Acadie ; 
 captured one hot August day at the mouth of the Penobscot, after being shot down 
 in defending Fort Pentagouet against a St. Domingo pirate ; held for ransom at 
 Boston ; ransomed by Frontenac at his private charge ; appointed to Martinique, where, 
 let us hope, Governor Chambly recovered from his St. Domingo acquaintance the 
 amount of Frontenac's bill of exchange. A little more than a century later, there was 
 serving at Martinique another seigneur of Chambly, who was to become the most 
 distinguished of them all, — Charles de Salaberr\-. In the West Indies he early exhib- 
 ited the courage and resource which afterwards won for him and his Canadian 
 \'oltigeurs such renown at Chateaugay. Yet with might, mercy ; and here he had 
 Itefore his mind not only the family motto, but the example of his old Basque ancestor, 
 whose feats on the battle-field of Coutras were so tempered with mercy, that Henry 
 of Navarre gave him that chivalrous tievice, Force a superbe; mercy a faihlc, — " Might 
 for the arrogant ; mercy for the fallen ! " 
 
 But, besides the Richelieu, there were other water-ways leading over to the St. 
 Lawrence, any one of which might serve the Mohawk raider. If the Yamaska 
 ajjproached too near the soldiers' homes of the Richelieu Valley, there were still other 
 
'30 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFF. AND CHARACTER 
 
 rivers in reserve, — notably the St. I'Vancis. To close at a stroke all these flood-gates 
 of Iroquois invasion, l-rontenac conceived the hold project of throwing across the 
 whole country, from the Yamaska to the Chautliere, the warlike Algoncjuin tribe of 
 Abenakis. who, while clost; friends of tlu; brench, were, from their very lineage, at 
 deadly feud with the Irociuois. Though onct? lonls of iiearl\- ten thousanil scjuare 
 miles, aiul the terror of Xew England, the Abenakis are now almost extinct. A mere 
 handful -descendants of the few that escaped Rogers' Rangers — still linger near the 
 mouth of the St. Francis. Within their former domain, the; Abbi- Maurault, who has 
 dexoted nearl\- a lifetime to these; Indians and their annals, can discov('r but three 
 words of AbiMiaki in-'v^\x\ :- -Coat i cook, "The .Stream of the I'ine-Land "; McniplircDiagoi^, 
 "The drc'at .Sju't^t of Water"; Mcoaiitic, " TIu; Resort of I'ish." A movement of the 
 Abenakis into the region west of the Chaudiere began in December, 1679, and 
 emijraced Imlians of two contiguous tribes, — the luchemins and Micmacs. all three 
 being described b\- tJK; iM-eiich ;is Xa/ioiis A/>('iiakiscs. Henceforth tlu; Abenakis 
 remained closi; allies of I*" ranee. (ihastl\- reprisals W(,'re made on Xew England for 
 the scalping-raids of the Inxpiois into CaiKula. Horror succeedeil horror. The 
 Massacre of Lachine was mon; than avenged by the' atrocities of Schenectad\\ I )eer- 
 field, antl Haverhill. 
 
 At Ha\erhill these avenging furi(;s were led by J. H. Hertel th; Rouville, who 
 regartlecl his father's hand--mutilated and burnt 1)\' lro(juois torturers — as his suf- 
 ficient commission. He was tlu; first lord of IJeheil Mountain, and of that lovely 
 mountain-lake which brechette calls iin jovau touihc (fun ccriii fautastiquc, — "a sa[)phire 
 dropped from fairy casket." His seigniory included tlu; romantic Rougemont \'alU,'\- 
 which separates RougcMiiont Mountain from Ht'lojil. Sw()o[)ing from his e\ry. Rouxille's 
 beak and talons were at the heart of Xew I'lngland before; the ap[)roach of a war- 
 partv was dreamt of. Iberville, tue vis-a-i'is of .St. Johns on the Richelieu, takes its 
 name from him who not oul)' became a* distinguished navigator, and the founder of 
 Louisiana, but who, in earlier lile, had unhap|)il\' been forcmiosl in the midnight attack 
 on Schenectad\'. I'or nearl\- a century this merciless and rexohing border-war con- 
 tinuetl, until in the (mkI the baltle-tield was shared b\- Ivngland and I-'rance, and the 
 armies of .\mh(;rsl and Montcalm wen; at each other's throats. The oKl war-trail 
 of the Richelieu, which conducted Champlain, and Courcelles, and De Tracy against 
 the lro(piois, now led brench regiments up to Crown Toint, Ticonderoga. anel \\'illi;un 
 Henry; or. with a different fortune of war, might lead I^nglish troops down to Mon- 
 treal. I'^ven th(; jjacification of i 763 brought but brief rest to this border-land. With 
 th(; outbreak of the Revolutionary War came Moutg()iner\'s invasion bv tlu; Richelieu, 
 and the capture of b'orts .St. John anil Chambly. .Simultaneously, Arnold undertook 
 his memorable winter-march of nearly 600 miles u[) the Kenneb(;c and down th( 
 Chaudiere. 
 
SOUTH E. iSl'i-RX OL'ElUiC 
 
 '3' 
 
 LAKK MASSAWll'l'I, 
 AND VAI.I.KY. 
 
 W i t h the 
 Peace of i jS ;, the pio- 
 neer's axe bewail once 
 more to rinL;' out ainoni^ 
 these rixcr - \alle\s. 
 Within a romantic hend 
 of the ^'anlaska, --"The 
 Rush-floored River," as the IncUan 
 name is interpreted, — a hamlet 
 took root which has L;ro\vn into the very 
 pretty calhech-al-town or cit)- of .St. Ilya- 
 cinthe. NotroDame of Montreal lias here 
 l)!'en reproduced in miniature, together with Hotel- 
 Dieu and other ecclesiastical foundations. The J(;suit 
 College is remarkable for its equipment as well as extra- 
 
I.'>2 
 
 FREXCIl CANADIAX LIFE AND ClfARACTER 
 
 ortlinai*)" size. AcaiKMuies iindrr Protestant auspices are also in full activity. Iiuh^ed, 
 this beautiful river-nook, with its shadowy pine groves and the restfid murmur of the 
 water, seems to havi; been 1)\- Natun; s(;t apart for stud\- and contemplation. Matins 
 and even-son!^- here pealed throui^h the rood-loft of i^n.-at pines, a_L;es before the swelling 
 OTLjan of church or (alheclral was heard. i'!\cn now the ("kmiIus of the I'drest linsj^ers 
 despite the rumble and outcr\' of two railways. Still ascentliny^ the river, w(; pass 
 Mount \'ainaska, and, aft('r resting- at the \illaL,^e of (iranby, climb to a dark valle\- 
 walled in on the north by Shefford Mountain, and b\- tin; Hrome IMeuntains on the 
 south. In l^romt; Lake the fountain-head of the Vamaska is reached, — a romantic 
 sheet of water, with the vilhii^e of Knowlton lu-ar the south end. 
 
 Here leave the basin of Vamaska, and cross over to Memphrematjoj^'- and Massa- 
 wippi, lake-fountains of the .St. brancis. A mountain-road clambers through Holton 
 Pass, and th(;n races ilown to the shore of Lake Memphremajrosj^. P'rom the hei>,dits 
 we look out upon scenes of many a wild expedition, romantic or trai^dc. Yonder is 
 the lake-L(ateway throui^h which the tierce Abenakis so often carried desolation to tin- 
 heart of Massachusetts. It was throui^h those maple woods, on our west flank, that 
 Roy^ers' Ranyjers, in 1759. swept like a whirlwintl of tlame, to exterminate the whole 
 brood of tiij^ers that hail so lont,^ harried the homes of New England. Many the law- 
 less advi'uture of love and war in the; old days of Partizan and Ranger, who often 
 helped (jut the glamour of romance by picturescpie finery or Indian costume. Now 
 A'ou ma\- wandtM- at will amid the wiKlest of this magnificent scenerj,', without other 
 adventure than the rough salute of tlu' mountain-air, that "chartered libertine": — 
 
 But liLTL- liow iilten rides the R;in^a'i--\Viiul 1 
 To tn.'iiiblinjj .ispens lie now lisps of love, 
 Or jrrioviii<; b.ilsiimt'irs to tears will move; 
 
 Traj;ic his t.ile the pallid birches lind ; 
 
 He, envious, sees the wooded peaks reclined 
 
 On the sweet bosom of the Lake ; nor frown 
 Of darkling Orford heeds, but lilusters down 
 
 The echoing pass, a plume of mist to bind 
 
 On scowling brow, carbine with lightning till ; 
 
 He decks him in rain-fringes tagged with hail, 
 
 In ribbons of Hying cloud ; then whistles shrill, — 
 Snorting leaps forth the war-horse of the gale ! 
 
 Wild Crntaur-clouds in wheeling squ.idrons form, 
 
 And o'er the border sweeps th-i Ranger-Storm ! 
 
 Lake Memphremagog is brought within three hours of Montreal by the Souih- 
 Eastern Railway. After six minutes of darkness in the great tube of Victoria Bridge, 
 recover speed with sunlight, and strike away for the Richelieu, which is crossed 
 
 we 
 
SOUTHEASTERN QUEBEC 
 
 133 
 
 BOLTON PASS. 
 
134 
 
 FRI'.XCII CANAPIAS' UFF. AM) ClfARACTI-.R 
 
 "' '■'! 
 
 .♦' , 
 
 
 COMMERCIAL STREET. 
 
 within view of Chamhly Basin and the olil 
 Fort. Touching the Yamaska at West Farii- 
 ham, we cHmb the water- shed of Brome. 
 Thence, descend the valley of the Missisquoi 
 River, winding through its lovely glens and 
 past the southern Pinnacle Mountain, and Hawk 
 and Bear Mountains, to Newport at the Vcr- 
 
SOC'T///:\.lsr£A\\ (JL'EliEC 135 
 
 moiU (Mul of Lake M<Mnphr(:^laJf<)),^ A third of tho way down this most romantic 
 water the boat-whistli; apprises us that W(- arc crossinj; the 45ti> parallel, our Interna- 
 tional Hounilary. 'I'hen, for twenty miles northward, a |)erspective of noi)lest scenery. 
 The west short; is embossed with lofty cones — Canadian kindred of the (irecn Moun- 
 tains — the: hij^diest of the coves bein^' Mount Orford, 4,500 f<'et. Owl's Head sprin_<,fs 
 from tlu! water's vxV^v. 2,700 ft-et into the air. HetwecMi this venerai)l(; owl-haunt and 
 th(! scul|)tured profile of I'Mephantis you sail over a still unsounded abyss, which baltled 
 Sir Ilu,L,di Allan and his sea-line of 1,200 feet. Yonder, on the opposite lu.'adland, is 
 that old sea-kini,f's Chateau ; for, in llu.' swelter of summer, it was his custom to rest 
 here from the care of his lleets, and brace his nerves with " the wine of mountain air." 
 When we reach the lake-outlet at Mago<j^ we seem to be in the immediate presence of 
 Orfortl, thoujrh the mountain stands back a few miles from the shore. F"rom the 
 summit, in clear weatlu:r, a most majLinificcnt view is had : Mount Royal, and all the 
 mountain-peaks from the Richelieu to the Chaudiere ; Lake Memphremaj^rog, its beau- 
 tiful sister, Massawippi, and a score of other lakes ; the Arcadian landscape of the 
 l^astern Townships; and, beyond their southern frontier, the (ireen Mountains of 
 \'ermont, and the White Mountains of New Hampshire. 
 
 Not the least delicious bits of scenery in the Eastern Townships lie in the valley 
 of the St. Francis. Amonji^ the farmsteads and rich herds of Compton and Stanstead 
 winds the deep chasm of the Coaticook. Of Compton ) ou would say, — "Just the 
 nook that a contemplative naturalist might choose for writing a SliephercVs Calendar !" 
 So thought Philip Henry (iosse before you, and settled here amid the " martial alarms 
 and stormy politics" of 1837-8. It w'ill soon be a half-century since he haunted 
 these glens and woodlands. In an excursion to Sherbrooke we need no longer hope 
 to find a moose, nor fear to meet a gigantic gray wolf ; mill-wheels and factories on 
 the Coaticook and Magog have frightened away many of the fish of pioneer days ; but 
 in bird, insect, and wild-flower, and in the Spring ferns, flushing with sweet verdure, 
 may be seen the descendants of those which sat to the gentle naturalist for their 
 portraits, and, "amid the fatigues of labour, solaced him with simple but enchanting 
 studies." 
 
 Rising in Lake St. I'Vancis, and expanding into Lake Aylmer, the .St. Francis is 
 joined at Lennoxville by the Massawippi, which brings th(; tribute of the Coaticook 
 and other streams, as well as the overflow of Lake Massawippi. Overlooking this 
 meeting of waters at Lennoxville, and surrounded by a landscape of rare loveliness, 
 is the University of Bishop's College, with its pretty Chapel and Collegiate School. 
 The friends of Bishop's College, undisheartened by repeated fires, have not only 
 restored the buildings, but extended them, and provided anew a good working library. 
 Among literary donations is a sumptuous fac-simile of the Codex Sinaiticus, from the 
 I'inperor of Russia. Above and below Lennoxville, the St. Francis lingers among 
 
»36 
 
 FRFXCIf CANADIAN LIFE AND C/fARACTFR 
 
 some sweet scenery ; the 
 
 stillness of the river here 
 
 is in strikinj^ contrast to 
 
 the rude concourse at 
 
 Sherbrooke, where the Magog dashes wildl) 
 
 down a steep incline, bringing the overHow 
 
 of Lakes Magog and Memphremagog. 
 
 The hill-slopes of Sherbrooke are con- 
 spicuous several miles ofT, and glitter in 
 the sun with their Cathedral, College, and 
 Church-spires. To the early Jesuits the 
 site was familiar, for the St. Francis was 
 the old water-way from New England to 
 Three Rivers and Quebec. The local an- 
 nals have been collected by Mrs. C. M. 
 Day and by the Rev. P. Girard, Superior 
 of the Sdminairc St. Charlcs-Borromdc. 
 
 Just above its confluence with the Si, 
 Francis, the river Magog descends a hun 
 dred and fourteen feet in little more than 
 half a ii'ile. The inevitable saw-mill, ami 
 grist-mill, cwid carding-mill appeared at the 
 beginning of the present century ; ami 
 around this nucleus a hamlet gathered, which, in 1817, was visited and paternally 
 adopted i)y the Governor. Sir John Sherbrooke. A distinct impulse was giv(Mi to its 
 growth when Sherbrooke became headquarters for the British-American Land Com- 
 pany, which, chartered in 1833, was a prime instrument in opening out the beautiful 
 wilderness of the Eastern Townships. In its boundless water-power, and in the fertility 
 
 Sl'KlNG i"i;rns. 
 
SOUTHEASTERN QUEBEC 
 
 ^11 
 
 of the district, Siierbrooke has enduring resources. Its manufactures are already very 
 extensive, some of the factories reaching the size of villages. The educational insti- 
 tutions are well-equipped and efficient. Commercial Street is the chief thoroughfare. 
 At the farther end, the street fades into a perspective of pretty villas. Melbourne 
 Street makes a delightful promenade, with its fine residences and flower-gardens, and 
 its charming river-views. 
 
 Throughout the Eastern Townships, but most of all in Missisquoi, Stanstead, and 
 Compton, there is a robust strain of the early Massachusetts pioneer. At the epoch 
 of the Great Divide, not a few Loyalists followed the old flag, and settled a little 
 beyond the " Province Line." Picking up the disused axe with a sigh — often with a 
 secret tear — they once more hewed out for themselves homes in the forest. They 
 l)rought across the frontier, with their old Hebrew names, the pith and industry, and 
 intense earnestness of the Puritan. They transplanted to Canadian soil that old farm- 
 life of New England, which, by its quaint ways, has stirred so many delightful fancies 
 in American novelists and poets. Such fire-light pictures and winter-idylls as Hawthorne 
 and Whittier love to paint, were here to be seen of a winter evening in every snow- 
 bound farmstead. Among the dusty heirlooms of these Township homesteads may 
 still be found andirons that stood on early New England hearths. Burned out 
 and fallen to ashes are the last forestick and back-leg ; and so are that brave old 
 couple who, in their gray hairs, wandered into the Canadian wilderness, and. with 
 trembling hands, hung the old crane over a new hearth. 
 
 
'38 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 LAKE MEMPHRF.MAGOG, FROM OWI.'S HEAD. 
 
MOXTREAL: HISTORICAL .LVD DESCRIPTI]'E 
 
 '39 
 
 A GMMl'SK KROM THK MOUNTAIN. 
 
 MONTREAL 
 
 'T^HKRE is no more beau- 
 -*■ tiful city on the continent 
 of America than the commer- 
 cial metropolis of the Dominion of Canada. The geographical features of the place at 
 once suggest a city. Ocean-going steamers can navigate the river St. Lawrence no 
 farther inland, but here where insuperable difficulties stop navigation, nature has made 
 it possible for human skill to produce a magnificent harbour. Lying, between the 
 
140 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 141 
 
 river and Mount Royal, rarely has it been the good fortune of 
 any city to have so fine a background. The Hat part, situated 
 at the base by the river side, makes it easy for business ; 
 the sloping sides of the mountain are intended, perhaps, to 
 
 meet the modern idea that prosperity 
 shall build in the west end, and 
 abundance in some overlook- 
 ing heights. That which was 
 natural happened ; the 
 city has extended west- 
 ward and along 
 
 the mountain side 
 — that is to say, 
 wealth used its un- 
 doubted right to 
 erect its dwelling- 
 places up the river 
 where the water 
 is clear, and up the moun- 
 tain where the air is pure. 
 Reaching the city by 
 way of the St. Lawrence, 
 the eye rests upon a scene 
 of rare beauty ; three miles 
 of river frontage turned 
 into wharves ; shipping of 
 every kind and description, 
 from the enormous steam- 
 ship to the tiny pleasure 
 yacht ; back of that, long- 
 lines of warehouses- ; then, 
 great public and p "vate buildings, church 
 spires and towers asserting their right 
 to be higher than all other structures, 
 and thus bid the busy world pause at 
 times and look up. But the finest view of the city can be had from the 
 
 L'ESCALIER. 
 
 mountam. 
 
142 IiaiXCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 The top is reached by a winding path or, if the traveller choose, by steps sujj^gestive 
 of lunj^s and nerves, and a swimminij^ head and death by fallinjj^. The view from the 
 summit, however, is well worth the; climb, whichever way may be chosen. The city 
 lies at the base; the majestic vSt. Lawrence may be traced for miles. Just ojjposite it 
 is spanned by the i^^reat Victoria liridj^e, one mile and three-cjuarters lon_(,r, built b)- 
 Stephenson and Brunei, and openeil by the Prince of Wales in 1861. Heyond the 
 river is a vast stretch of land absolutely flat, bounded by ranges of hills among which, 
 conspicuous, rise the twin mountains of St. Milaire. 
 
 Montreal abounds with striking contrasts. The city is comparatively small — 
 less than one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants — as what was called "the census" 
 has declared. It has had only one or two hundred years of history ; and yet every- 
 thing is here — the antique and the modern — u'hile hostile oddities lie cheek-by-jowl 
 on every hand. Here are frame houses, some of them scarcely better than an 
 Irishman's hovel on his native bog, and ignorance and squalour and dirt ; close at 
 hand are great streets of great houses, all of fine-cut stone. Here are thousands of 
 French who cannot speak one word of English, and thousands of English who cannot 
 speak one word of French. Unthrift and thrift come along the same thoroughfares. 
 Some are content with a bare existence and some are not content with colossal for- 
 tunes. In social life we have the old French families with their Old U'orld refinement 
 pressed upon and almost pushed out of e.xistence by the loud manners of the nouvcaux 
 riches. The older houses have their heirlooms of gold trinkets and silver plate ; the 
 new houses have their art galleries of elaborate picture-frames, the meanest of which 
 would honour Cellini, and gladden the eyes and heart of a solid Manchester man. 
 
 We have the same striking contrasts in the appearance of the people on the streets. 
 Here are unmistakable descendants of the ancient Iroquois Indians; at a turn we come 
 upon a company who, by their dress and talk, take us back to the peasant classes of 
 older France ; while crowding everywhere are ladies and gentlemen of the most approved 
 modern type, according to the fashions of London, Paris, and New \'ork. The 
 business of the place shows the same quaint differences. At one market we are in 
 an exclusively agricultural district ; there is nothing to suggest a ship, a warehouse, or a 
 factory ; buyers and sellers are country people with country ways, except that now and 
 then a lady from the more aristocratic parts ventures to go a-marketing in the interests 
 of economy. Our illustration represents what may be seen in one of the principal 
 squares of the city on a market day. All the streets round the I3onsecours Market 
 are crowded with carts filled with country produce, and the overflow finds its 
 way into Jacques Cartier^ Square. The horses feeding peacefully as they would 
 beside a country hostelry, primitive carts and harness, the habitant piously com- 
 mitting his horse or his basket to the care of God while he slips into the old 
 church to say a prayer, are not the pictures one expects to find in a great city 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 •43 
 
 COMMISSIONER'S WHARK, AND BONSECOURS 
 MARKET. 
 
 in the restless New World. A 
 very little way to the west, you 
 are in a different latitude. Signs of 
 
 commerce and modern taste and 
 industrial life; abound. Here is a 
 corner where we look into \'ictoria 
 Square. The crowded streets, the 
 magnificent cut-stone shops, hotels 
 and warehouses, the well-appointed 
 hall and rooms of the Young 
 Men's Christian Association — the 
 oldest Association of the kind in 
 America,- — the beautiful Kirk, Sal- 
 isbury Cathedral in miniature, the 
 bronze statue of the Queen by 
 Marshall Wood, all reflect the nine- 
 teenth century. What surprises the 
 visitor is the sharp distinction so 
 long maintained. The new does 
 not shoulder the ancient out of the way-does not even modify it. They move along 
 p:>rr.llel lines, neither affecting the other. There is no fusion of races in commer- 
 
 Br-NSFCOURS CHURCH. 
 
144 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 • .■iiriiriiiiiriiiiHmim(i' 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL AND PftSCRIPTH'E 
 
 145 
 
 ( i;il, social or political life ; the 
 
 differences are sharply defined, 
 
 and appear to be permanent. 
 
 ll must be confessed that this 
 
 ailds to the interest of the 
 
 city, and enables the curious 
 
 to study human life and work 
 
 under a variety of aspects. But we must turn now to a closer description of 
 
 I)''ople and places and their history. 
 
 The his'tory of Montreal is an eventful one, and full of interest. The site was first 
 visited by Jacques Cartier, the discoverer of Canada, on the 2d October, 1535. The 
 .'Mc^onquin village of twelve hundred inhabitants was then named Hochelaga, and the 
 1 renchman was well received, supplies of fish and maize being freely offered in return 
 
I4& FREXCff CAh'APfAX IJFR AND CffARACTER 
 
 for beads, knives, small mirrors and crucifixes. Hochela|^a was, even in those days, a 
 centre of importance, havin<j ei^ht or ten settlements subject to it. Nothinj,' more was 
 heard of it, however, till 1611, when Champlain left Quebec for Hochelaga, with the 
 intention of establishinjj;^ there a trading-station. Temporary structures were erected, 
 ground was cleared and seeds were sown, in order to test the fertility of the soil. 
 Before returning to Quebec, Champlain held conferences with many Indians — Hurons and 
 Algonquins — who had come to meet him in the neighbourhood of the present Lachine 
 Rapids. Two years later, Champlain visited llochelaga again, and pushed forward 
 up the riv(;r Qttawa as far as Lake Nipissing. It was not, however, till 1640 
 that a permanent establishment was attempted on the island of Montreal. In that year 
 a society, designated " La Compagnie de Montreal," was formed in Paris for the 
 promotion of religion in the colony. This Company consisted of about thirty persons 
 of wealth, who proposed to build a regular town and prcUtxt it against the Indians by 
 means of fortifications. Maisonneuve, a distinguished and pious soldier from Cham- 
 pagne, was chosen to lead the expedition and direct the Company. The sanction of 
 the King of France having been obtained, priests and families were sent out, and on 
 the 17th of May, 1642, Villemarie was solemnly consecrated. The spot chosen for the 
 ceremony was near the foot of the mountain. 
 
 Maisonneuve was a great man, knightly in bearing, brave as a lion and devout as 
 a monk. Among his most efficient colleagues was d'Aillebout, who was subse([uentl\ 
 twice Governor of New France. During the first few years the colony of \'illemarie 
 barely managed to subsist, being constantly exposed to the incursions of Indians. On 
 one occasion, in 1652, a small band of I'renchmen defeated a body of two h'.mdred 
 Irocjuois in the immediate neighbourhood of Montreal. The following year Maisonneuve 
 returned from I'" ranee with three vessels and upwards of a hundred soldiers. In 1663, 
 an important event occurred, the "Company of Montreal" having sold their rights to 
 the Seminary of Montreal, wlio have ever since been the seigniors of the island and 
 associated with ever)- incident of its history. In 1672 the population of Montreal had 
 reached the figure of 1 500, and a few years later the place began to be laid out into 
 streets within a ([uadrangular space surrounded by a wall. About the same time the 
 village of Laprairie, on the opposite side of the river, was founded by a number of 
 converted Iroquois, and later they migrated a little farther up to Caughnawaga, where 
 their descendants survive to this day. 
 
 The Iroquois were the allies of the English of the New England Colonies and the 
 Dutch on the Hudson, as the Hurons were of the French of Canada; and the wars 
 between these two savage nations naturally involved their white friends. V- 1690 an 
 expedition, consisting of two hundred French and Indians, set out from Montreal on 
 snow-shoes, and fell upon a Dutch settlement at Schenectady, putting all therein to 
 fire and sword. In retaliation, a force of thirteen hundred men, under General Winthrop 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTH'E 147 
 
 and Major Schuyler, was equipped for a movement upon Montreal, by the way of Lake 
 Champlain, while a licet was dispatched against Quebec under the command of Sir 
 William Phipps. The former accomplished nothing, owing to the difficulties of the 
 march, and were easily repulsed ; while the defeat of the latter by I'Vontenac is one of 
 the most brilliant pages of the history of New F" ranee. In 1700-01 a great peace was 
 concluded at Montreal between the Iroquois on the one hand, and the Hurons, Ottawas, 
 Abnakis. and Algonquins on the other. This did not prevent works of defence being 
 carried on, ami in 1722 a low stone wall was erected, with bastions and outlets, extending 
 all around the town. The population of Montreal at that time was three thousand. 
 The fortifications, however, were available only against the Indians, and were not calcu- 
 lated to withstand artillery, as the events of fifty years later clearly proved. In 1760, 
 after the fall of Quebec and the unsuccessful attempt of Levis to recover that strong- 
 hold, Montreal became the last station of I'rench power in America, and it is therefore 
 indissolubly connected with the closing events of the Conquest. The British plan of 
 campaign was to hem Montreal in from every side. With that view, General Murray 
 moved up from Quebec, while Colonel Haviland advanced his army, composed of three 
 thousand regulars and provincials, with a small body of Indians, from Crown Point on 
 Lake Champlain, and up the Richelieu. On his side Sir Jeffrey Amherst, the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief, set out from Albany and passed through the Iroquois country, now the 
 State of New York, as far as Oswego, where he took boats to transport his men across 
 the lower part of Lake Ontario and down the St. Lawrence. W^hen he reached Lachine, 
 Haviland had already occupied the south shore of the river opposite the city, and Murray 
 was master of the territory extending to the foot of the island. Levis had fired his 
 last musket, X'audreuil had exhausted all his diplomacy, and there only remained to be 
 enacted the final scene of Capitulation whereby the fairest colony of France was trans- 
 ferred to Great Britain. It has never been definitely ascertained at what particular spot 
 this impressive historical event took place. Most historians locate it at the Chateau de 
 Ramezay, on Notre Dame Street, the official residence of Marquis de \^audreuil. 
 Governor and Lieutenant-General. There is a local tradition, however, that the Articles 
 of Surrender were signed in a small frame house, on the Cote des Neiges road, behind 
 the mountain, which was unfortunately destroyed by fire only a few years ago. It is not 
 necessary to trace the general history of the city from this point of the Conquest down 
 to our day. It will suffice to say that from 1760 to 1810, Montreal was little better 
 than a frontier outpost, and an emporium of the trade of peltries with the Indians. 
 Ill the succeeding decade, the North-West was explored by a number of hardy adven- 
 turers — the Selkirks, MacTavishes and others penetrated into the wilderness ; the North- 
 \\ est Company multiplied its stations throughout the Red River valley, and Montreal 
 became the headquarters of all these mighty traders. There are episodes in this period 
 of the history of Montreal, up to 1830, which have the charm of romance, reminding one 
 
148 F/U:XCff C.WAD/.IX LIFE AXP CHARACTER 
 
 of Its ancient days. The famous voyas^citrs and courcurs dc boi's are I'ndissolubly asso- 
 ciated witli the city. All the canoes that went up the Ottawa, thence to I'rcnch River 
 antl Georj^nan May. to Lake .Su[)erior and on through innumerable portajj;es. to Lake 
 of the Woods and the Winnipej^j River and Lake to I'ort Ciarry, set out from the villa^^e 
 of Lachine, it is true, hut they were all laden with Montreal freij^ht and propelled by 
 th(; stalwart arms of Montreal oarsmen. Then came the ^reat development of the 
 lumber trade, which ^ave additional importanc(? to Montreal and increased its wealth. 
 This trade brouj^dit the whole back country of the Upper Ottawa into commercial union 
 with the city, and the profitable connection has continued down to the present time. 
 Toward 1840, ste.imboat navigation was introduced, first from Montreal to (Juebec. and 
 afterwards from Montreal to the principal towns of Upper Canada. This was the dawn 
 of the era which was gradually to enlarge into the system of railways and steamships 
 whereby the standard position of Montreal as one of the chief cities of the continent 
 was permanently assured. 
 
 It is easy to trace the two main divisions of the population of Montreal. Taking 
 St. Lawrence Main Street as a dividing line, all that is east of it is French, and all 
 that is west of it is English-speaking. The two nationalities scarcely overlap this con- 
 ventional barrier, except in a few isolated cases. And other external characteristics of 
 the French population are as distinct as their language. The houses are less pre- 
 tentious, though cpiite comfortable, and there is a general absence of ornament or of 
 surrounding plantations. The extreme eastern portion is designated the Quebec 
 suburbs, and there the native people can be studied as easily as in the rural villages, 
 from which the majority hail. They are an honest, hard-working race, very gay and 
 courteous, and of primitive simplicity of life. Their thrift is remarkable, and they 
 manage to subsist on one half o( what would hardly satisfy the needs of people of 
 other nationalities. The old folks speak little or no English, but it is different with 
 the rising generation. These use the two languages indifferently, and herein possess 
 a marked advantage over the English, Scotch and Irish. Within late years also, they 
 have learned to husband their resources. They have in their midst a flourishing branch 
 of the City and District Savings Bank, a number of building societies and two or three 
 benevolent guilds. Their poor are cared for by the St. Vincent de Paul Association, 
 which has several ramifications, and the Union St. Joseph is devoted to the relief cf 
 artisans during life, and of their families after death. 
 
 There is a great deal of hoarded wealth among the French inhabitants, but 
 as a rule they do not invest it freely. They have among them some of the richest 
 men in the city who, however, are modest in their wants, and make no display either 
 in the way of sumptuous mansions or gaudy equipages. Although extremely hospita- 
 ble and fond of society, they are not in the habit of giving balls or fancy entertain- 
 ments, their evenings being spent mostly in mutual visits, where a quiet game of cards 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL AND DESCRirTIlR 
 
 149 
 
 
 " ^>^' 
 
 
 
 ONi>«.- 
 
 
 ;■(»-** 
 
 >^i»J5^ 
 
 
 iV.'*''"^' V** .' w 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 ?■<?** 
 
 r^ I, * 
 
 - ... ... -..x^^ 
 
 *:-.•> >"^\-^', 
 
 
 
 MOUNTAIN UKIVt:. 
 
 r:^-**". . A- 
 
 
 ■./I 
 
 
 ^M 
 
 ^)' 
 
 ^-- •• • 
 
 ijn'clominates. As in Paris so in ,,«m.»=^ . >. . ... 
 
 Montreal, it is not c'as\' to obtain '"V^^f^^V^-^^r^. ligiy 
 access into the inner I*"rench circles ; 
 but once initiated, the strani^er is aj^reeably sur- 
 prised at the amount of ^race and culture which 
 lie meets. It is a current mistake that his^dier 
 (■(.hication is uncommon ainont;;- these people. The 
 <;ift of conversation is almost universal ; the best 
 topics of art and literature are freely discussed, 
 and ladies are familiar with political questions. 
 
 The v.'''stern part of the city is English. By 
 this term is meaut all those whose vernacular is our mother-tongue. Numerically, the 
 llnglish portion is not so great as the Scotch, who unquestionably take the lead in 
 commerce, finance and public enterprise generally. In perhaps no section of the Colo- 
 nies have Englishmen and Scotchmen made more of their opportunities than in 
 Montreal. There is an air of prosperity about all their surroundings which at once 
 impresses the visitor. Taken all in all, there is perhaps no wealthier city area in the 
 
 IV' r 
 
 •'X 
 
ISO 
 
 FREXCII CAXAPIAX LIFE AND ClfARACTER 
 
 world than that comprised between Heaver Hall Hill and the foot of Mount Royal, 
 and between the parallel lines of Dorchester and Sherbrooke Streets in the West Knd. 
 Sherbrooke Street is scarcely surpassed by the Fifth Avenue of New York in the 
 magnificence of its buildini^s. The j^^rounds include demesne and park, the charms 
 of the country amid the rush and roar of a ^reat commercial centre. In winter 
 the equipages present a most attractive spectacle. It has been said that in this 
 respect only St. Petersburjj; can claim precedence over Montreal. A favourite drive 
 on X Saturday afternoon in winter is from X'ictoria Square to Nelson's Column and 
 back, the sumptuous sleij^hs of every description, drawn by high-steppers, and bear- 
 ing lovely women ensconced in the richest furs of the Canatiian forest, following 
 each other in endh^ss succession. There is also a winter driving club, which peri- 
 odically starts from the iron gates of McGill College and glides like the wind alonsj 
 the country roads to a hospitable rendezvous at Sault aux Recollet, Lachine or Longue 
 Po;nte, where a bounteous repast and a " hop " are provided. The return home under 
 the moon and stars is the most enjoyable feature of the entertainment, and many a 
 journey through life has been initiated by these exhilarating drives. 
 
 The extreme south-western portion of the city is occupied almost exclusively by the 
 Irish population. It is called Griffintown, from a man of that name who first settled 
 there and leased a large tract of ground from the (irey Nuns for ninety-nine years. (3ver 
 sixty years of this lease have already expired, so that in about twenty-fi''e or thirty years 
 the ground rent of this immense section will revert to the nuns. Griffintown comprises a 
 little world within itself — shops, factories, schools, academies, churches and asylums. The 
 Irish population of Montreal take a high stand in business, politics and society. They 
 number in their ranks many successful merv^hants and large capitalists, and have leading 
 representati\'es in all the learned professions. 
 
 Th(! islantl of Montreal is the most fertile area in the Province of Quebec, and is 
 specially renownetl for its fruit, the J'otNiiu- (ir/si\ quec^n of russets, and the incom- 
 parable Fdiiiciisc, growing with a perfection obtainable nowhere else. It is thickh 
 settled, being studded with thri\ing villages and rich farms. It is about thirty miles 
 long and ten broad, and is formed by the contluenc of the Ottawa with tlu; St. Law- 
 rence at Ste. Anne's, in the western extremity, and by the meeting of the same rivers 
 at Pout de I'lsle. on the eastern verge. The Ottawa behind the island is called Riviere 
 des Prairies by the P'rench, while the English have adopted the more prosaic title of 
 Pack River. About the midtlle of its course- is a rapid known as .Sault aux Recollet. so 
 called from a Recollet missionary who perished there in the days of the Iroquois. 
 
 The city is bountifully ])roviiled with summer resorts and retreats within easy 
 distance by rail and river. Lachine anil Ste. Anne's have long been favourites among 
 these, being admirably fitted by nature for boating an.tl fishing purposes. They contain 
 many charming villas and country houses, St. Lambert, immediately opposite the city, 
 
MOXTREAL: If/STOR/CU, .L\/) PliSCRIPTH'E 
 
 '5' 
 
 is ji^rowins^ in estimation from year to y(;ar. An old stopping-place is Longueuil, 
 a little below St. Lambert, which has long had a considerable English colony, and is 
 still a favourite resort in summer. Xo institution pays so well as the Longueuil I'erry, 
 for a great deal of the traffic from the fertile cc)unties of Chambly and Laprairie comes 
 l)y it to the city. The (juiet bay in front of the village is the roadstead for tlie craft 
 of the Longueuil \'acht Club, whose record stands high in aquatic annals. Within an 
 hour's ride is Chambly, situate on a basin of the same name, which forms part of 
 the beautiful Richelieu River. Directly opposite tower the basaltic pillars of lielteil 
 Mountain, one of the most picturescjue spots in Canada, on whose summit ;< lovely 
 
 TUi; I.ONGUKUH. IKKKV. 
 
 lake mirrors the sky — a spot resorted to by scores of families whose heads are able to 
 come anci go, to and from the city, without detriment to their business. 
 
 In the way of parks and pleasure-grounds Montreal is singularly fortunate. There 
 is a Mountain Park and an Island Park, both of which may fairly claim to be unri- 
 valled. The former cost the city nearly half a million of dollars, but is well worth 
 the money. The drive round it is a favourite afternoon recreation for citizens and 
 visitors. It ascends from the south-eastern base of Mount Royal, by curves that are 
 sometimes like corkscr(nvs, to the highest altitude, whence a magnificent panorama is 
 i'uts])read, including the whole island of Montreal, the fair Richelieu peninsula, the 
 lilue waters of Lake Champlain, and the undulating line of the Green Mountams of 
 \'erniont. Our illustration on page 149 shows the Nuns' Island above the \'ictoria 
 '•lidge, a beautiful islet that owes its name to its ownership. This Mountain Park is 
 
FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 
 
 \'^ 
 
 
 
 X 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 «i 
 
 ni 
 
 P: 
 
 
 J 
 
 .'il 
 
 still in its native ruggedncss, and it 
 
 will take years before it is completed, 
 
 accordingly to a scientific plan embracinj^ 
 
 fy "liailSlft iHBH^i^'-i 'iS^I tracts of landscape-gardening, relie\ed 
 
 by spaces of woodland, glade antl pri- 
 m eval forest. It is intended also to 
 have preserves for game and wild ani- 
 nK'.ls. The Island Park is St. Helen's 
 Island, in thi; middle of the ri\er. and 
 in it, within reach of sling or arcpiebuse, 
 Montreal j)ossesses a pleasure resort 
 nowhere e.xcelled. St. Helen's Island 
 has a romantic history. Champlain's 
 wife, Helen Bouille, took a fancy to it, 
 bought it with the contents of her own 
 purse, and in return Champlain gave il 
 her name. Later, it fell into the hands 
 of the Le Moyne family, and became 
 incorporated in their seigniory of Lon 
 gueuil. rinally, it was purchased by the 
 Imperial Government for military purposes, and barracks were erected thereon. After 
 
 z 
 
 ■A 
 
 z 
 
 t/) 
 
 O 
 
 2 
 
 O 
 
 
MOXTREAL: IflSTORlCAI. AND DESCRIPTn'E 
 
 153 
 
 the departure of the British troops from the country, the property was passed over to 
 the Federal Government, who leased it, on certain conditions, to the city for park pur- 
 poses. Looking at it from the city one has no idea of its heijj^ht in the centre. It slopes 
 upward from the water's edj^e, and thus affords a capital military position, as ma\' Ix; seen 
 at a glance in our illustration of the Old Battery. The same feature makes it one of the 
 best possible points from which to get a view of the cit)-, especially of the harljour and 
 long-extentled line of wharves and docks, with the mountain towering up in the back- 
 
 OLO BATTERY, ST. HELEN'S ISLAM). 
 
 grounil. In the fall of 1760, the island was the scene of a dramatic incident. The 
 Chevalier de Levis, who defeated Murray at the battle of Ste. l-'oye in the summer 
 nf that year, and would have recaptured Quebec and retrieved the disaster of me 
 Plains of Abraham, had not a Hritisli tleet suddenly arrived under the shadow of 
 Cape Diamond, was obliged to retreat towards Montreal, whither he was soon followed 
 iiy Murray and Amherst. The I'Vench had to bow to the inevitable, and X'audreuil 
 signed the articles of capitulation. Meantime Levis, who had retired to St. Helen's 
 Island, sent a Hag of truce to Murray, to request the surrender of his troops with the 
 iionours of war. For some ine.xpiicable reason this demand was not granted, and 
 
154 FR/:\CI/ C.L\\l/)/AX 1.11- 1- AXI^ CIlARAC'irR 
 
 the hi_t,rh-min(l('(I I'rcnchman construed the denial into an insult. When the shadows 
 of nigin had fallen, and the foliai^^e of the jjjreat trees intensified the darkness, he 
 j^^athered his men in the centre of the; island around a pyn^ of hla/ini; wootl. At the 
 woril of cominanil the colours \V('re lroo])(Hl. tlu' staffs hrokiMi, and the whole thrown 
 into the tire, while the drums Iteat to arms, and the veterans cried "\'i\e' la I'Vance ! " 
 with the anj^uish of (.lespair. '\\\(: nc'Xt morning' the remnant of the' I'rench arnn 
 tiled before th(,'ir contjutM'ors ami piled their arms, but ne\er a shred (jf the white 
 tiag was then;, to deepen their humiliation. 
 
 Chief among the public scpiares and garilens (jf Montreal, in 5ize and in historic 
 interest, is the Cham|) dt; Mars. In 1S12, the citadel or mound on the present site of Dal- 
 housie Scpiare was demolished, and the (;arth of which it was composetl was carried o\'er 
 and strt;wn upon the Champ d(; .Mars. This fact, within the memory ot the oklesi 
 inhabitants, has led some people to suppose that the; bield of Mars tlates onl\- from that 
 comparativel)' late period. .Such, however, is not the fact. Xo doubt the dum[)ing ot 
 so much new earth, with proper levelling and rolling, was a great improvement ; but 
 the site; antl general outlincis of the ground itself belong to a higher anticpiity. The 
 Champ was a scene of promenade in the okl brench days, and many is the goUlen 
 suns(!t that fired the leafy cylinders of its Lombardy po[)lars, as beaux, with peaked 
 hats and purple doublets, sauntered under their graceful ranks in the company ot 
 short-skirted damsels. The chief glory of the Champ de Mars is its military histor\-. 
 With the single exception of the I'lains of Abraham, there is no other piece of 
 o-round in America which has been successivelv troilden bv the armies of so man\- dif- 
 ferent nations in martial array. First, it witnessed the evolutions of the blue-coatc'd 
 Frenchmen — probably such historical regiments as those of Carignan and Roiisillon — and 
 its sands were crunched by the hoofs of chargers that bore Montcalm and Levis. 
 Then the serried ranks of red-coats paraded from the days of Murra\- and Carleton. 
 It were worth while to know how many regiments of the Hritish army ha\f', at one 
 time or another, turned out on the Champ de Mars. Next, for about six months, the 
 ground was useil by 
 
 "Tiic coci<t'(l-ti,\t Continentals, 
 In tlieir r.ijjgi'd regimentals;" 
 
 rr.any of whom went forth therefrom to defeat and death under the cliffs at Quebec, 
 with the heroic Montgomery. And now it is the parade-ground of our Canadian \'olini- 
 teers. The illustration gives us a si)ecimen of the \'ictoria Rifles, on(; of Montreal's 
 crack regiments. Th<' buildings shown are the rear of the Hotel de \'ille and of th'' 
 Court House; then the twin towers of the jjarish church, which are seen from almost 
 every point of view ; and next to them the side of the modest little Presbyterian Church 
 called St. Gabriel's, which is given below in its full dimensions. This is the oldest 
 
MOXTR/:.}/.: insroRicAL Axn nnscRirrn'H 
 
 155 
 
 Protestant Church standing 
 in Montreal, ami lon^^ may 
 it stand, for it preserves the 
 memor\' of Christian cour- 
 tesies between tiire(.' l(!ad- 
 in^' Christian communions. 
 While the clun'ch was heintr 
 built, the ticood old Re'collet Fathers ofTered the coni^rejji^ation the use of their chapel 
 to worship in. The sturtly Scotchmen accepted the offer, and when they mo\('d into 
 their own kirk presented the bathers with a hogshead of Canary wine and two boxes 
 of candles. SubsetpuMitly, when the Aui^lican church was burnt, the PresbyKTians— 
 doubtless remembering how they had been intlebted to others — came forward jiromptly 
 and put St. Gabriel's at the entire disposal of the Anglicans for the half of every 
 
'56 
 
 FREXai CANADIAX L/F/i AND CHARACTER 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL AiVD DESCRIPTIVE 157 
 
 Sunday, until their church could be rebuilt. This offer was accepted as graciously 
 IS it was made, and thus St. (iabriel's is, in itself, a monument equal in interest to 
 uiything in Montreal. 
 
 Historically, the Place ilWrmes is even more interesting. As it stands at present, 
 there are few more charming spots in Canada, framed in as it is by the Corinthian 
 portico of the Montreal Bank, the Ionic colonnade of the City Bank -now the buildings 
 jf the Canada Pacific Railway Companj, -and the towers of Notre Uame. Our view is 
 taken from Notre Dame, so that we get only a portion of the Place d'Armes ; but while 
 ive lose [)art of the Place, we gain a glimpse of the city as a whole, extending away to 
 the foot of the mountains. Ne.xt to the Bank of Montreal, with its beautiful portico, 
 stands the Post Office. Between it and the mountains the most prominent buildings are 
 St. Mary's College and the Church of the (rcsii, which attracts Protestants to its services 
 by good music. Farther west the unshapely pile of .St. Patrick's Cathedral bulks largely 
 i)n the slope of Beaver Hall. The garden of the Place d'Armes is very beautiful in 
 summer, with its young trees and central pyramidal fountain ; but in winter it is invested 
 \\ith a particular glory — for the place is the coldest spot in Montreal at all seasons of the 
 year — the north-west winds streaming from the mountain in that direction as through a 
 Colorado canon. Its histor\- goes back to the earl\- histor)- of the city. In 1643 '^■'•'-l 
 1644, the Colony of X'illemarie — the beautiful ancient n;;me of Montreal — was practically in 
 a state of siege, owing to the incursions of Indians. The noble Maisonneuve kept on the 
 defensive for a time, until he was remonstrated with, and several of his more intluential 
 followers openly charged him with cowardice. This stirred his martial spirit ; he deter- 
 mined on chanyfintr his tactics. With a train of dogs accustomed to scent the trail of 
 the Iro([uois, and at the head of thirty armed men, he marched out in the direction of 
 the mountain, where he was met by upwards of two hundred savages, who fell upon 
 liim and compelled his forces to retreat. Maisonneuve formed the rear-guard. With a 
 pistol in each hand, he walked slowly back, and never halted until he reached the present 
 site of the Place d'Armes. There, when the French had repulsed the foe and gathered 
 their dead and wounded they understood l)oth the valour of their commandant and the 
 wisdom of remaining behind the shelter of their fortifications. 
 
 There is no city in America which has a greater number of public institutions of 
 an ecclesiastical, educational, or charitable character. Chief among these is the Church 
 of Notre Dame, the largest edifice of the kind in America, except the Cathedral of 
 •Mexico. At the founding of X'illemarie, a temporary chapel of bark was built on 
 ■' Pointe a Calliere," which was used until the following year, when a wooden structure 
 was raised on the same spot. In 1654, this chapel becoming too small, M. de Maison- 
 neuve suggested the construction of a more commodious church adjoining the hospital 
 ill St. Paul Street, on the spot where stands to-day the block of stores belonging to 
 the H6tel Dieu. Service ^as held there for upwards of twenty years. In 1672, the 
 
'58 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN /.//•/■ AN/) CHAR ACT F.R 
 
 foundations of a more spacious ('diricc were laid in tlic Place d'Arnics, and tlic ciiurch 
 was completed in 167S. This lasted till iSj;, when liie present temple was ilevised, 
 which, on th(; 15th June, 1S29, was opened for public worship under iIk- auspices of 
 Mgr. Lartiji^ue, first K. C. Bishop of Montn^al. The pile was intended to he 
 a representative of its namesake, Notre Dame, of Paris. Its towers are 227 feet 
 
 in height, and contain a peal of 
 eleven bells, unrivalled on this 
 continent. The "(iros Hourdon " 
 of the western tower is numbered 
 among the five heaviest bells in 
 the world. It was cast in Lon- 
 don, weighs 24,780 pounds, is six feet high, and at its mouth measures eight feet 
 seven inches in diameter. The nave of the church, including the sanctuarv, is 220 
 feet in length, nearly 80 feet in height, 69 in width, exclusive of the side aisles, 
 which measure 25^ feet each, and the walls are five feet thick. The church is 
 capable of holding 12,000, and on extraordinary occasions, when chairs are used, 
 15,000 persons. The twin towers of Notre Dame stand out to every traveller as one 
 of the notable landmarks of Montreal. 
 
J/().V7/k'/-:,I/..- historical AXn nHSCRlPTllI- 
 
 159 
 
 Other churches arc so numerous that Montreal, like Brooklyn, has been tlenomi- 
 nated the City of Churches. Christ Church Cathedral, on St. Catherine .Street, stands 
 deservedly first. It is a j^em of Gothic architecture, not surpassed hy ('.race Church, of 
 
 New York. It is built of 
 
 
 limestone, dressed with 
 cream-coloured sandstone, 
 and its interior fittings 
 are in remarkably good 
 taste. In the grounds is 
 a monument to the mem- 
 ory of Bishop I'"ulford, 
 one of the most dis- 
 tinguished prelates that 
 ever ruled the Church 
 of England in Canada. 
 The Presbyterians have 
 noble edifices in .St. 
 Paul's and .St. Andrew's. 
 
 I'UI.l'Il (M-' NOTRK I).\Mi:. 
 
 1 he Methodists, Unitarians, Congregationalists and others are well represented, while 
 the Israelites have two synagogues. The Jesuits boast of a church which is an 
 r\act counter|)art of the celebrated (iesu, of Rome. The spirit of ambition is strong 
 iii the Catholics. The late Bishop, Mgr. Bourget, commenced the task of erecting a 
 jH-similc in miniature of St. Peter's. The architect was instructed to proceed to Rome 
 
i6o FREiWClI CANAD/AX IJFH AA7) CUARACTER 
 
 and simply reduce St. Peter's to exactly one-third of its actual dimensions and reproduce 
 it in that fasliioii in Montreal. Slowly it has been (growing before the puzzled eyes of 
 the citizens, and stranj^ers ask with wonderment what it is, or is likely to be. 
 
 Not only are the charitable institutions of Montreal more numerous in respect 
 to population than those of any other city on this continent, but several of them 
 belong to a high antiquit)'. and are intimately connected with salient events in the 
 history of New France. The foundation, for instance, of the Hotel Dieu, reads like 
 a romance. When Maisonneuve offered his services to the " Compagnie de Montreal," 
 and was named Governor of the future colony, h(.' was sagacious enough to understand 
 that his scheme stood in need of a virtuous woman who would take care of the sick, 
 and superintend the distribution of supplies. Such a person should be of heroic 
 mould, to face the dangers and privations of the wilderness. What gold could not 
 purchase, Providence supplied in the person of a young woman — Jeanne Mance, daughter 
 of a procurcjir du roi, near Lamoges, in Champagne — who was impelled by an irre- 
 sistible vocation to the missions of New I'rance. Queen .\nne, of Austria, and several 
 distinguished ladies of the Court, apprised of her merit and e.xtraordinary resolution, 
 encouraged her in her design ; and Madame Bouillon, a distinguished lady of that 
 period, placed means at her disposal for the establishment of an hospital. In the 
 summer of 1641, two vessels sailed from La Rochelle, one bearing Maisonneuve, a 
 priest and twenty-five men — the other carrying Mademoiselle Mance, a missionary and 
 twelve men. The winter was spent at Sillery, near Quebec. On the opening of 
 navigation in 1642, a small flotilla, consisting of two barges, a pinnace and another 
 boat, moved up the solitary highway of the .St. Lawrence, and on the iSth ALiy 
 possession was taken of Montreal by the celebration of a solemn mass. The two 
 principal persons who figured at the ceremony were >Liisonneuve and Mademoiselle 
 NLince ; and thus it happened that a woman assisted in the founding of this great city. 
 
 Another community has long been identified with the history of Montreal. The 
 mission of the Grey Nuns is to assist the poor, visit the sick, educate the orphan, and 
 enfold with maternal arms the nameless and homeless foundlinijf. There is no charitv 
 more beautiful than theirs, and hence their popularity with Protestants as well as 
 Catholics. The Order was founded by Madame de Zanille, a Canadian lady, belonging 
 to the distinguished families of Varennes and Boucher de Boucherville. The old con- 
 vent stood for many years on Foundling Street — named thus in its honour — opposite 
 Ste. Anne's Market, — but had to make way for the encroachments of trade, and has 
 since been transferred to magnificent buildings on Guy Street. The Grey Nuns have 
 spread over the Province, and have numerous representatives in the north-west, as far 
 even as the Upper Saskatchewan. 
 
 In the noble work of charity, the Protestant population, although numerically far 
 inferior, has more than held its own. Notwithstanding the amplitude of its accom- 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL AND fUiSCR/PT/J'E 
 
 i6i 
 
 modation, the General Ilosi)ital was not found sufficiently larj^e, and a j^ood citizen, 
 Major Mills, established another in the extreme west vn^\, whence it derives its name 
 of the Western Hospital. It has been said that charity differs from trade in this, 
 that whereas the latter is always in direct ratio of sup|>ly to demand, the former 
 
 reverses the rule' ; and the more it expands 
 ""■■"■ its resources, the more it finds objects of 
 
 ' ; ', misery to relieve. The principle has held 
 
 /■ good in the case of the Western Hospital, 
 
 I \ i. lik'^. \a^^' which has been crowded from its opening day. 
 
 In 1 86,^ a number of leading citizens, 
 realizing the 
 necessity of ^^^^^« 
 
 ■■'til.'iri 
 
 ■IS*!" 
 
 
 '1 1 >i 
 
 
 
 ' PI. 
 
 
 
 
 !^.. 
 
 
 j 
 
 - \ 
 
 
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 "T^f. ■• 
 
 m 
 
 1' 
 
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 r,^^'> \\ 
 
 
 lik^-. 
 
 p.') 
 
 V'" # . 
 
 
 '^^: 
 
 GATEWAY OK THK SKMINAKV 
 OK ST. SUU'ICE. 
 
 \ 
 
 '^iMm 
 
 
 Mj 
 
 a peculiar asylum of 
 help for the Protestant 
 poor and unfortunate 
 — especially the aged 
 and feeble, who had 
 no means of livelihood 
 — raised upwards of 
 $8o,ooo, with which 
 they laid the founda- 
 tions of the institution called the IVotestant House of Refuge and Industry. The 
 dual character of the population, elsewhere referred to, has made necessary a double 
 sft of asylums for Protestants and Catholics, which accounts for the extraordinary 
 number of these institutions, as compared with the total number of inhabitants. 
 
 IN THE CHAPKL OF GREY NUNNERY. 
 
l62 
 
 IRIiiXCir CANAPLW /.//■/• .I.\7> CI fARACTI-li 
 
 Chief ;imoiij,f the educational estahlishmtMits of Montreal is McGill University, whos'. 
 history embraces several features that deserve; consiii(!ration. lion. James McCiill, "ho 
 was born at (jlasgow in 1 744. and died at Montreal in 1S13, by his last will and testa- 
 ment devised the estate of Hurnside. containin;,' forty-seven acres of land, and betjueathed 
 a larj^(! sum of money f(jr the ])urj)oses of this foundation. Tin; University was erected 
 by Royal Charter in 1821, and reorganized by an amended Charter in 1852. Its 
 
 CITY HALL, AND NKLSON'S MONUMI.NT. 
 
 endowments, (exhibitions and scholar- 
 ships are already respectable. The 
 Molson Chair of Kn>,dish Language and 
 Literature, the Peter Redpath Chair 
 of Natural History, the Logan Chair 
 of Geology, the John 1 rothingham 
 Chair of Mental and Moral Philosophy, 
 have each an endowment of $20,000. Students attend McGill not only from every 
 Province of the Dominion, but from the United States. It counts among its professors 
 some distinguished scholars, notably Dr. Dawson, the Principal, whose scientific reputation 
 is world-wide. Among the affiliated institutions are Morrin College, Quebec ; St. P'rancis 
 College, Richmond; the Congregational College of British North America; the Presby- 
 terian College of Montreal; the Diocesan College of Montreal, and the Wesleyan College 
 
MoyTRF.ii.: !fisroRic.\r. .\\i) Di'.scRirrn'h: 
 
 163 
 
 of Montrt-al. Under the rcjjfulations for th(." estahlishiTXfnt of Normal Schools in thr 
 Province of Quebec, the Superintendt.'nt of lukication is enipowercd to associate with 
 himself, for the direction of one of these schools, the corporation of McGill Iniversity. 
 in accordanct! with this arrant^emcnt, the Pro- 
 vincial Protestant Norma! School is affiiiiated 
 witii McCJili, and for tlu; past quarter of a 
 ((Mitiiry lias trained teachers, especiall\- for 
 the I'rotestant population of the I'rovince. 
 The Model Schools attached to the institu- 
 tion are three in nuinher one for boys, one 
 
 ANCIENT TOWERS AT MONTKKAI, COLLKOK 
 
 for girls, and a primary. These schools are capable of accommodatino;^ about three 
 iiundred pupils ; are supplied with the best furniture and apparatus ; and are conducted 
 on the most approved methods of teachinj;-. They receive jjupiis from the age of six 
 and upwartls, and give a thorough English education. There are two high schools — 
 one for boys and another for girls — largely attended. 
 
 Montreal College and St. Mary's College are Roman Catholic institutions. The 
 former occupies a magnificent site on Sherlirooke Street, at the foot of the mountain, 
 and the building is probably the largest single and continuous pile in America. This 
 institution has been intimately associated with the history of Montreal for over a 
 
164 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 hundred years. It is under the control of the Seminary of St. Sulpice, who were 
 made seiij^niors of the Island of .Monireal and its environs 1)\- Royal Letters Patent, 
 in 1640. The Theological Department is specially remarkable, and has been the 
 nursery of priests and missionaries for more than a centur\'. Its students are from 
 all parts. Chief amontj the objects of interest connected with the collej^e are the 
 two round towers near the fjates, which tradition traces back to the early da\s of 
 the colony, when they were built as outposts of defence atjainst the red men. These 
 towers are kept in a perfect state of preservation, as memorials of those ancient days 
 of peril. 
 
 St. Mary's Collejj^e, on Bleury Street, is under the direction of the Jesuit Fathers. 
 and their boast is that it is second to none of their establishments on this coiuinent. 
 which is saxintx a jj^reat deal when one is ac(iuaintetl with such old and successful coUetjes 
 as those of Fonlham, N. Y., Geory^etown. I). C, and .St. Louis. Mo. Their celebrated 
 Ratio Stiidioniiii is carried out to the letter, and the results deserve attention, bi.'causc 
 the methods are so different from those in voj^iie in our day. The-re is tone and style 
 in everything connt^cted with .St. Mary's College. -Strangers are receivetl with the utmost 
 courlesy, whether they visit the institution itself or the adjoining Church of the (.icsu, 
 to see its relics of saints and its frescoes. 
 
 A secoml Normal .School for the iM-eiuh and Catholics, under the patronymic ot 
 Jacques Cartier, was locatetl from its foundation in the oKl Government House at 
 Chateau Ramezax', opposite the Citv Hall, but has since been transferred to palatial 
 quart(;rs on an eminence at the Last T~nil. I he management is almost wholly 
 ecclesiastical, the Principal being .Abbe X'erreau, distinguished as an historian anil 
 antiquarian. The Catholic Commercial .Xcadi'ni}' off St. Catherine .Street, is the onl\ 
 institution of the kiiul in the Pro\ince which is altogether under the control of la\nieii. 
 and from all accoimts it has met with complete? success. 
 
 'The .\rt .\ssociation of Montreal was inrorporali'd in 1S5.S, but for man\- years it 
 had but a languid cxistt^nce. The late liisho]) Tidfortl (.Tul much to encoiu-age its mem- 
 bers, but the credit of h.iving placed the societ\' on a permanent footing is due to 
 Henaiah Gibb, who left propertw monc\, and a ninnber of paintings from his own col- 
 lection, to form a gallerv. ;\ suitable buikling has been erectetl in Phillips' .S<piar( . 
 ar d the art gallery was recently opened li\- His L.xcellency the .Martpiis of Lome ami 
 11. k. II. the Princess Louise. 
 
 WhiU; little has been done for art. less has been clone for libraries. The Mi - 
 chanics' Institute has a collection of books, but not at all adecpiate tf) the wants I'f 
 so large a |)opulation. .\ movement is at present on foot, tending to the establishmeit 
 of a pid)Iic library commensurate with the size, wealth and cidture of the city. In truti 
 money was left by the late Mr. Traser, to build and furnish a public librar)', but for 
 some mysterious reason, the library is still in posse. The Insiitut Canailien t1oiM-ish( 1 
 
MOA'TREAL: H/STOR/C.IL AND DESCRIPmii 
 
 165 
 
 ^^>- ..- 
 
 
 
 
 CHKIST CllfUCII CATHIDKAI., IKOM I'llII.III'S' SQUARE. 
 
 for many years with a 'i::^oo{\ library and reading-room, hut it has of late fallen into 
 disuse, and its Ijooks have been advertised for sale. 
 
 Hut Montreal is more interested in outdoor sports and in orjranizinL,^ amusement 
 clubs than in art. The X'ictoria skating; club, whose famous rink on Druinmond .Street 
 was one of the first erected on this continent, has l^een the scene of many l)rilliant fancy- 
 dress cnti-rtainments, which Royalty and nobility have j^raced. Those "carnivals" on the 
 lie were first instinited here, and have since become popular elsewhere. Ihere are three 
 
1 66 FREXCU CAXAPIAX IJFIi AND CHARACTER 
 
 curliiio- clubs — the ''alecJonia, Montreal and Thistle — with a Canadian brancli of the 
 Koyal Caledonian luirlint;^ club of Scotland. The Montreal curling club was 
 founded in 1S07, and ranks hij^h in the annals of the "roarin' tj^ame." Snow-shocinji^ 
 has been reduced to an art. The parent club, the " Montreal," is perhaps the mcst 
 prosperous corporate body of the kind in the city. Ihe costunu! is sins^ularly pic- 
 tures(|ue — while llannel coat and le^fjj^ins^s, bhu; cap with tassel — from which is derived 
 the popular name of rucpie lileue — red sash and moccasins. Then; is no prettier siu^ht 
 tlian that of tiie club met.'tiiij^r at the McCill Collei^^re <;ates, movini,'- up the llank of the 
 mountain to the " Pines," and then jj^liding to the rendezvous at the Club House, at 
 Outremont. The memorable torchlisj^ht procession over this route to the hospitable 
 villa of Thonibury. made in honour of Lord Dufferin, in 1873, was a fairy spt.'ctacle 
 which will never be for^^otten by those who witnessed it. Every winter there is a sweep- 
 stakes over the mountain, a day devoted to games and races, and several tramps across 
 country to a distance of twent)'-f"ive or thirty miles. Lacrosse is the "national L,ame " 
 of Canatia, and in that character it hatl its birth in Montreal. Four or five )ears ago, 
 a select team made the tour of England, and had the honour of playing before Her 
 Majesty at W'inelsor. The Indian clubs of Caughnawaga and St. Regis always take 
 |)art in the games, but they have long lost the supremacy which they enjoyed for cen- 
 turies, ihere is also a golf clid), established in 1873, under the auspices of the Earl 
 of Dutferin ; a bicycle club, foot-ball club, and a chess club, which numbers among its 
 members some ol the strongest and most brilliant players in the countr)' ; an active and 
 energetic club for the protection of fish and game, as wi^ll as a society for the pre- 
 vention of cruell) to animals ; two gymnasia, and a McCiill College athletic club, 
 whose annual games recall many feats of skill and strength. Boating is also a favouril( 
 pastime, and there are three large \acht clubs —the Montreal, Longueuil and Lachine. 
 .\ ri'gatta in llochelaga Basin, with the prow of the graceful little vessels steering straight 
 as a needle for the twin spires of X'arennes Church, is as prett\- a sight as one could 
 wish t(j see. 
 
 The turning-point in the business history of Montreal was in 1850 or thereabouts, 
 when it suddenly manifested a tendency to e.xpand. That change was mainly ilue to 
 two causes — the .\Ilan Line; of Steamships and the (irantl Trunk Railway. This leads us 
 to s]ieak of the ship|)ing and the carrying-trade from the; interior to the seaboard, and 
 vice :rrscf. ihe geographical position of the city is of course exceptional ; but in onler 
 to make the most of it, it was necessary to obviate the difficulty presented 1)\' the Lachiiv 
 Rapids to up-stream navigation. The only way to do that was to turn the rapids by a 
 canal. The Sulpicians understood this as far !)ack as 1700, when the\- opcMied a sluict . 
 2'.' (vvt deep, by the Ri\(T .St. Pierre to Montreal, and used l)()ats thertMU. Li 18:1 
 public-spirited citizens, led by Hon. John Richardson, resolveil to enlarge this primili\'.' 
 boat canal into a bar<re canal. Richardson wanted it to extend from Lachine to 
 
MONTRF.AI.: UISTORICAL AXP nESCRIPTnii 
 
 167 
 
 
 SriiAMKK I'ASSlNc; LUCKS, AND UNLOADING SHU'S HV KLliCTKlC Lllilll. 
 
 I lochelaj^a, so as to avoid tin- current opjjositc the fort ot St. Ilclcn's Island antl 
 isle Ronilc, antl tluis make Ilochcla^a the nal port, as Nature intended it to he, seeiniLj' 
 that in its majestic basin the lleets ol tlie worhl mii^hl moor in safety. lUil the opi^)- 
 Mtion of interested parties tliwarted this vast design, and the canal was dus.; oidy to 
 Windmill Point, its present terminus, a ilistance (jf S ' .. miU s. The work was comnienceil 
 
1 68 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 in 1 82 1 and completed in 1S25. Rut there was more to come, because more was needed. 
 The barge canal was not sufficient, and must give way to a ship canal. The widening 
 began in 1843 ^"^^ continued till its completion in 1849, ^^ '"^^ outlay of over $2,000,000. 
 With the opening of these works the commercial supremacy of Montreal was secured, 
 because it fixed the union of ocean and inland navigation. The trade, indeed, grew to such 
 a volume that the canal was once more found inadequate, and in 1875 another enlargement 
 was begun, at an estimated cost of $6,500,000. This is part of a gigantic scheme for 
 the widening of the whole St. Lawrence canal system, a work whose magnitude will 
 be understood when we remember that from the .Atlantic entrance of the straits of Belle 
 Isle, via the St. Lawrence and inland lakes to the head of Lake Superior, the distance 
 is 2384 miles, and that on that route there are the Lachine, Beauharnois, Cornwall, 
 Farran's Point, Rai)i(le Plat, Galops and Welland Canals, the aggregate length of which 
 is 7o'/2 miles; and the total lockage 536^^^ feet, through rift)-four locks up to Lake b>ie : 
 also. th(? Sault Ste. Marie Canal, built by the L'nited States, one and one-seventeenth 
 miles in length, with eighteen feet of lockage. These canals make Montreal the ri\al of 
 New York for the grain ami ])ro\isi()n trade of the (ireat West and North-west. Her 
 facilities arc gnat, and there is ev<.T\ prospect of farther and speedy de\el()pment. 
 Alri'adv. we can get on Ijoard th(.' " Holiemian," or some other large and well-appointed 
 steamer, at the lowest dock of tlie Lachine; Canal, and take as pleasant a summer 
 journe) up the St. Lawrence as mortal tired of the dust and heat of the cit\- can 
 desire; and still nn by water without a break, up lake after lake, to "the cit\' ot 
 tlie unsalted seas," in the heart of the Continent. Or, we can go east as safel)- as 
 west. Nearly thirt\- \ears ago the first steamers of the; .\llan Company were 
 sent forth, but a st'ries of disasters well-nigh brought the enterprise to the ground. 
 Tlu; Coinpaii)' persevered, howexcr. until now the\' possess one of the finest and largest 
 fleets atloat. comprising twenty-fixc iron ami steel steamers, to say nothing of swift 
 antl powerful clippers. These \-essels pl\- between Montrt'al and Lixcrpool, Montreal 
 and (ilasgow, Boston antl Liverpool, and Boston and Glasgow. • Tlu're are besitle 
 eight or ten steamship lines employeil regularl)' in th(; Montreal trade — the Dominion. 
 Bea\er, Temperley, Ross. Thompson, Donaldson, Great Western, White Cross and IJull 
 Ports. .V Trench line is also in near contemplation, for next season, as well as a service 
 with Brazil. The inland navigation is perfectly supplied. We have a daily mail sti'anier 
 to and from Quebec, connecting with steamers to all the Avatering places of the Lower 
 St. Lawrence and the .Saguenay ; also a daily line to the ports of Ontario as far as 
 Hamilton ; another dailv line uii tht; Ottawa, and a number of wav-boats to all the 
 villages and towns of the St. Lawrence and Richelieu Rivers. The port is admirabh 
 provided with wharves and basins, and farther accommodation is being prepared. 
 Indeed, the enlargement of the harbour is one of the main cjuestions of the future, and 
 some remarkable plans have already been submitted to the public. .Ml the modern 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIJ'H 
 
 169 
 
 
 
 ■J. 
 
ijo /■A'/:.V(7/ CANADIAN UF/: AX/) ClfARACTER 
 
 appliances for loading and unloading are employed, and the facilities for almost immediate 
 transhipment from freight-cars to the hold of vessels are unsurpassed. Montreal was the 
 first port in the world lighted by electricity. The result is continuous labour. The 
 electric lights are placed at intervals of about two hundred yards, from the mouth of 
 the Lachine Canal to Hochelaga, so that the whole- harbour is lit up. The (juestion of 
 harbour dues has been engaging attention, and steps have been taken to make Montreal 
 a free port. The port is governed by a Board of Commissioners, a portion of whom 
 represent the Federal Government, another the shipping interest, and a third part the 
 city corporation. It is impossible to conceive of a more striking contrast than that pre- 
 sented by the harbour in summer and in winter. Our illustration shows that part of 
 it near the Custom House called Island Wharf, The dock here is always crowded with 
 ocean steamers, elevators drawing grain from barges and loading them, and vessels and 
 skiffs of all sizes — while a forest of masts and funnels extends far down the river. The 
 scene is one of busy labour night and day. The great river sweeps past in calm 
 majesty, with a force that no power could arrest. Hut the frost king comes, and everything 
 that looks like commerce takes flight. The river is sealed fast, till another power 
 comes with kindly influences. The spring rains and suns rot the ice, and it begins to 
 break. Montreal is on the ijiti vhc to see it start down the river. It starts, but is 
 usually blocked at Isle Ronde, and grounds. Then it shoves, and piles up, and the 
 lower parts of the city are flooded. To cross with a boat at such a time is not 
 only an exciting but often a perilous undertaking, as the cakes of ice may move or 
 turn under the men, when of course the danger is extreme even to the most skilful 
 ice-navigators. 
 
 The Grand Trunk Railway has been for years the main artery of the commerce 
 of the country, and Montreal is its chief terminus. iMve other lines of railway centre 
 here — the Champlain and St. Lawrence, Central Vermont, Boston and Delaware, 
 South-Easter , and North Shore. The North Shore (officially named the Quebec, Mon- 
 treal, Ottawa and Occidental Railway) has its central station in the eastern part of tin.- 
 city, on the site of the old Quebec Gate Barracks, which had to be torn down in con- 
 sequence, thus depriving the city of one of its most interesting historical landmarks. 
 This railway is the property of the local government, which is said to have expended 
 about thirteen millions in its construction, thereby creating a debt that weighs like an 
 incubus upon the Province. 
 
 The Montreal Board of Trade was incorporated by Act of Parliament in 1842, and 
 consists of an Executive and a Board of Arbitrators. There is also a Corn F2xchangc 
 Association, incorporated in 1863, with a Committee of Management and a Board of 
 Review. A third corporation, the Dominion Board of Trade, received its initiation 
 mainly in Montreal, though its annual meetings have generally been held in Ottawa 
 Another important l)ody is the Montreal Stock Exchange, which holds two daily ses- 
 
MOXTRILIL: HISTORICAL AXP DESCRIPTIIE 
 
 171 
 
 sions, forenoon and afternoon. The scene of its operations is St. I'ranrois Xavier Street, 
 which is the Wall Street of Montreal. There all the brokers have their offices, and 
 about noon, on certain days, the sidewalks are crowded with dealers and speculators, 
 discussing the ebb and llow of stocks, and condiictini^ their mysterious operations. St. 
 Frangois Xavier is one of the oldest and narrowest streets of the city, but it affords 
 
 TRAN'SI'KKKINC. FKHIOIIT HV I'.I.KCTKK [.IGHT. 
 
 a curious (ground of observation for iIk; visitor who wishes to form an iilea of the 
 financial importance of the Canadian metropolis. When the heterogeneousness of the 
 jjopulation is taken into account, the cit\' government may be .said to be fairly well 
 administered. The standing trouble is the rivalry between the East and West E)nds — 
 iliat is, the I'rench and I'.nglish-speaking portions. 
 
 St. Urbain is another street that may be said to be on the border-land between 
 ihe English and the I'Vench-spcaking population of Montreal. We see it in winter 
 
«72 
 
 FNHXCff CANAP/.l.V LIFE AXD CHARACTER 
 
 MONTRK.AI, WINTF.R SCKNKS. 
 
MONTREAr.: IflSTORICAL AND PESCRIPTH'E 
 
 '73 
 
 dress, the snow cleared from the sidewalks and formini^r parallel lines, between which 
 trattic makes its \\a\ much more smoothly tlian in summer. The snow is less of 
 an impediment to ordinary business than is dust or rain during the other seasons 
 
 NOTRK DAMK, IROM ST. LRHAI.N STREET. 
 
 of the year. It is a decided impediment, indeed, to the procuress of conflaq^rations, 
 with which Montreal used to be scourged. The ile|)artnient. liowever. is now so 
 ihoroughly organized that it is almost impossible for a tire to make an\- headway 
 iK'forc it is checked. The alarm system is so perfect and tlie Ijrigade so disci- 
 
174 
 
 FREaWCH CANADIAN LIFE AND ClfARACTER 
 
 plined, that no conflagrations on an extensive scale have taken place within the past 
 twenty-five years. I-'verything is also clone to protect property in case of fire. The 
 illustration is a spirited sketch of a salvage wagon that has just come out of the 
 
 IN ST. GAHRIKL STKKET. 
 
 fire station on St. Gabriel Street, and is plunging along between the lines of piled-up 
 snow, to the s|)ot indicated by the alarm. The duty of the men is to cover up all 
 endangered property with tarpaulins, and to be its custodians till questions of ownership 
 and insurance are settled. 
 
 In a first visit to Montreal, by all means let the traveller approach from the water- 
 
MONTREAL: HISTORICAL A.\7) DESCRIPT/IT. 
 
 175 
 
 from up stream, down stream, or the south shore. From all three directions the view will 
 repay him. The river itself is so fascinatinjj^ in its strenjj^th of crystal purity, so over- 
 powerin,(,r in vastness and mij^jht, that it would dwarf an ordinary city. It does dwarf every 
 other place alon^ its banks — Quebec alone e.xcepted. It bears. lij,ditiy as a j^arland, the 
 chain of the great bridge that binds its opposite shores with multi])lied links of massive 
 L,n-anite. The green slopes of St. Helen's Island resting like a leaf on the water, the 
 
 forest of masts and 
 red and white fun- 
 iK^ls, the old-fashioned hay and wood barges, the long line of soildly-built revetment 
 wall, the majestic dome of the Bonsecours Market, the twin towers of Notre Dame, 
 palatial warehouses, graceful spires sown thick as a field, and the broad shoulders of 
 Mount Royal uplifted in the background, make up a picture that artist, merchant, or 
 patriot — -each for his own reasons — may well delight to look upon. To persons coming 
 Horn abroad, believing Canada to be a wilderness of ice and snow, the home of 
 Indians and buffaloes, the first view is a revelation. When they drive through any 
 "f the numerous magnificent business thoroughfares, and then round the mountain, they 
 sometimes consider what sort of a back country that must be which supplies such a 
 liver and builds up such a city, and wonder why — in the face of such grand enter- 
 
176 FRHNCI/ CANADIAN l.IFIi AND CHARACTHK 
 
 prises antl unrivalled pro<rress on tlu; part of Canadians — they have never heard of 
 such a thinj,^ as Canadian patriotism. 
 
 Of the three water views there is none e(pial to that obtained on a summer after- 
 noon or evenin*^ from the deck of a steamer comin^,^ down stream. Irom the time 
 the Indian pilot is taken on i)oard above the Lachine Rapids, all is (.-aijer e.xpect- 
 ancy on the part of passen_y;ers who have made the journey a<,^ain and a_L,^ain, as well 
 as in tin,' case of tourists who ar(' running' the rapiils for the- lirst time. As we near 
 Victoria Mridi^e it s(;ems impossible that llu! " Corsican " can pass under, and the 
 question is sometimes asked whether there is anj' arranijjement for lowerinj^ the funnels. 
 The steamer glides alony; ; we look up and see our mistake, ami tlu'n look ilown upon 
 the innocent questioner. Now the crowded harbour, the cit\- in its fresh beauty, 
 ami the mountain in all the .u'lory of its summer vesture, are revealed. The steamer 
 rounds up to the Commissioners' Wharf, to discharge its (juebec passenj^ers into the 
 huge palace floating alongside. Laml lu^re antl stroll down stream before taking 
 a cab. You soon find yoursc^lf in the heart of I'rench-.Montreal. Here; are anti(iue 
 barges with hay, from the surroumling country, which is being unloadetl into carts 
 primitive enough for the tla\s and the; land of I'^vangeliiie. Instead of the rush of 
 an American city, there is an air of repose and human enjoyment. The very coasters 
 and carters pause in their work, to exchanges gossip and cheery jokes. Here, again, 
 are wood-barges that have evidently come from a greater distance. Each barge 
 discharges part of its load at once and places it on the wharf on racks that indicate 
 its measurement by the cord. The purchaser can thus point out e.xactly liow much 
 he wants, and the barge remains calmly beside the wharf till the whole cargo is sold. 
 A few y(,'ars ago, wood and hay barges were to be found in the centre of the harbour ; 
 but th(' increasing traffic is pushing them farther and farthcn* down, all the way to 
 Hochelaga. Return to the Honsecours. The market is a great three-storey parallelo- 
 gram of cut-stone, occupying a s(]uare on the river-front, and with a stateK' dome and 
 cupola. It is crowded on the forenoons of market-days, when the manners of the 
 habitant can be studietl to best ailvantage. He has come to the city with the produce 
 of his farm or garden. (jiiict, paticMit. courteous, he waits for customers. Sometimes, 
 these may be his own neighbours who ha|)pen to need what he has to sell, anil then he 
 puts down his price a little. Sometimes the^y are from the East End — I'Vench therefore — 
 and to them he is more than amiable, and sells fairly. I)Ut the grand lady from the 
 West End, while receiving ample politeness, must pa\' full price. .Still, there is good feeling 
 between the different races and, for the most part, honest dealing. Are they not citizens 
 of a common country, even though the Ultramontane studiously characterizes those o! 
 English speech as " f»reigners" ? I'rom the market, go up the lane leading to thr 
 old-fashioned church. The lane is encroached upon by little dingy eating-houses, thrown 
 out, like buttresses, from the walls of the church. Hingy as they are, they give a 
 
MOjVTRF.AL. msrORICAl. ANP I-iESCRIPTH'E 
 
 ^77 
 
 MAIL STKAMKk I'ASSING UNDER VICIOKIA liKlUGE. 
 
 better cup of coffee than cither steamer or mow. invitiiii^-Iookintj restaurants. Vou soon 
 reach St. Paul's Street, the street that constituted the Cit\- of Montreal at first, and 
 now, by all means, ente- the faxouriti; city church of th(' habitant. The loud colours, 
 the tawdry t^nlt and jj^eneral bad taste of modern Catholicism, and the elaborate upholstery 
 of shodd\' Protestantism, are alike consi)icu<)us by their absence. The rilicvos on the 
 walls, the altar, the anticpie pulpit, remind one of a seventeenth century jjarish church 
 in Brittany. We are taken back to the days of Mari^uerite Bourgeois, who laid the 
 foundation-stone more than two centuries Ts.'go. Baron de Fancamp gave her a small 
 image of the Virgin, endowed with miraculous virtue, on condition that a chapel should 
 !■(■ built for its reception. Marguerite and the people of Montreal enthusiastically complied 
 with the condition. From that da\", many a wonderful deliverance, especially of sailors, 
 has been attributed to Our Lady of Gracious Help. The image still stands on the 
 
178 
 
 FREXCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 gable nearest, the river, and within, votive offerings and memorials of deliverances almost 
 hide the altar. An agnostic might envy the simple faith of the people, and the states- 
 man could desire no better race to till the soil. Every true Lower Canadian loves the 
 I^onsecours Chapel. It symbolizes, to a race that clings to the past, faith, country and 
 fatherland. And it is the only symbol of the kind that "modern im[)rovements " have 
 left in Montreal. The old Recollet has been swept away. The spoilers have spoiled 
 Quebec. And all over the Province, quaint churches beloved by the people are being 
 replaced by huge, costly, modern structures. In the name of everything distinctively 
 Lower Canadian, spare symbols like V'arennes and the Bonsecars! 
 
 Here, beside his cht^di and market, in the stately commercial metropolis of Canada, 
 the white city of America, we leave the habitant, with cordial recognition of what he 
 has been and is, ani' with all (jood wishes for his future. 
 
 UNI.OAUING HAY HAROKS. 
 
rmi rowRR Ottawa 
 
 179 
 
 THE LOWER OTTAWA. 
 
 '' I **\\\\ dark-brown waten 
 -*-. of the Ottawa at 
 
 waters 
 at 
 their (ichoiichcinoit l)elow 
 lh(; Lake of Two Moun- 
 tains divide into three 
 channels, the two smaller 
 (if which tlow norlii re- 
 spectively of Laval and of Montreal Island, whih; the third and most considerable in 
 size expands into Lake St. Louis, one of the larijest lakes on the St. Lawrence. 
 We are about to trace the course of the " ( jrand River" from the commercial t<j the 
 political metropolis of Canada, throus^h a rej^ion no less rich in historic associations 
 than in its inexhaustible beauty of scener\". unchaujued in the picturescpie wildness of 
 "i\"r. hill and wt)od. since Champlain. first ot white men, adventured to explore its 
 -ouibre waters ; an* yet, embellished with all the tokens of mode'rn civilization and 
 jirojrress, its waters controlled by machiner)' that can lock or loose its forces, and 
 
 panned by hujre viaducts throuy^h which the locomotive tluuiders ; and farther on, as we 
 iscend its current, directed by the skill and toil of civilized man into an open, navi- 
 
 able stream from city to city, its shores enriched with all that betokens agricultural 
 
i8o FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 plenty, while quaint church-towers and tastefully-decorated villas give the charm cf human 
 interest to scenes of such varied natural beauty. 
 
 From the wharf at Montreal we take the steamer which is to carry us up the 
 Ottawa to our destination at the Capital. We proceed for the first eight and a half 
 miles along the Lachine Canal amid scenery tranquil and uneventful as that of a Dutch 
 village. Along the level banks are occasional trees and houses, whose general appearance 
 is scarcely such as to indicate the neighbourhood of Canada's wealthiest city. Before 
 us the canal extends mathematically straight, for the most part on a higher level than 
 the surrounding fields, so that sometimes we can peep into the top-storey windows of 
 the houses as we pass. Every now and then we are delayed by a lock, of which we 
 encounter five on our way to Lachine. First the lock-gates are closed upon our steamer; 
 then machmery is set at work which admits the water from the higher level ; seething 
 and tossing, the Hood bears us up ; the gates are once more opened, and after a delay 
 of some twenty minutes we pass on. We meet endless fleets of barges, some towed 
 by horses, some by propellers, all kinds and varieties of steamers, passenger-boats, 
 barges, and tugs " of low degree ;" all manner of nondescript craft — shapeless, heavy- 
 laden, broad-bowed — whose native element seems to be the canal, and whose build is 
 such that they look ill-adapted for navigation in more boisterous waters. Yet these 
 ponderous boats have made voyages from the Far North and the Western lakes; they 
 will tloat through Lake Champlain to Albany; still on, down the Hudson to New- 
 York, or on the broad St. Lawrence to Quebec. The traffic on the canal is such 
 as in itself to give some idea of the commercial importance of Montreal. Here 
 and there the monotony of trading-vessels is broken by the snow-white sails of a 
 pleasure-yacht from the city ; or some enthusiastic angler, absorbed in the nirvana of 
 bait-fishing, sits in a skiff that never rocks but with the ripple of the passing steamer. 
 There is something soothing in the intense calm of this canal navigation with which tlu; 
 scenery both on the canal ixinks and among the shipping is thoroughly in harmony. 
 It is, as .Shelley says, "a meta|)hor. of peace." As the steamer passes between the 
 locks, it is pleasant to go ashore and watch the canal from a little distance. The 
 houses we pass are built with the usual high-pitched roofs of I'Vench-Canada, the 
 slanting eaves projecting in front. ;\11 round us are the level fields extending to th(; 
 foot of the canal embankment. The canal itself is invisible, and we see steamers and 
 barges moving along, as it were, on dry ground ! 
 
 At Lachine it will be well to land and stroll awhile amid the scenery of this qui<t 
 suburb of the great city, with its reminiscences of Robert Cavalier, Sieur de l;i 
 Salle, and its association with so ma'iy vicissitudes in the history of the heroic aii<l 
 saintly founders of New France. In the words "La Chine" we have a record of 'ln' 
 belief common to so many American explorers, from Columbus downwards, that through 
 America lay the highway to the Orient, a belief which the increasing facilities < f 
 
THE LOWER OTTAWA i8i 
 
 communication witli the Pacific Coast will yet redeem from the list of delusions. 
 Lachine is a quaint and picturesque old town, of some 4000 inhabitants ; the houses 
 with tall, steep gables, dormer windows and square stone chimneys ; the streets gay with 
 visitors from Montreal, a considerable number of whom reside during the summer 
 months at Lachine, whence they come and go to their places of business in the city by 
 the railway. Nestling among trees of immemorial growth are the parish church, and 
 the convent, amid its high-walled gardens. The former is a handsome edifice, whose 
 twin spires, gracefully decorated, rise high above the surrounding streets. The style i> 
 that modification of Renaissance-Gothic which the French brought from Europe, and on 
 which French Jesuitism — the Jesuitism of the Martyrs, not of the political intriguers — 
 has impressed the character of its glorious traditions. 
 
 Before the canal was built, Lachine was a place of greater commercial importance 
 than at present ; it was then the trading emporium for Montreal, to which was conveyed 
 all the merchandise from the Western centres, and even the cargoes of skins and furs 
 which the trappers of the Hudson's Bay Company had ':ollected during the winter. 
 Hither came, week by week, the batteaux, or large, flat-bottomed vessels, shaped some- 
 what like " bonnes," or lumbermen's boats ; these arrived regularly with goods and 
 passengers from Kingston and the head of the Bay of Ouinte, and from the lake ports 
 farther west. 
 
 The Sulpician leathers, who were tlie feudal lords of the island of Montreal, 
 were anxious to protect their new settlement of \'illemarie by an outpost held 
 from them by military tenure. Hence they gladly granted a tract of land near the 
 rapids above Montreal to the gallant hut ill-fated La Salle. He remained in possession 
 only long enough to found a village fortified rudely with palisades, and to name it 
 " Lachine," in accordance with the dominant idea of his adventurous life — a passage 
 across the Continent to the Indies. After La Salle's departure, the village of Lachine 
 conveniently situated for the carrying-trade of Montreal, continued to flourish until, in 
 1689, t'^^' terrible blow of its destruction by the Iroquois hail the efl'ect of overthrowing 
 the French schemes of American conquest for a time, and reducing their tenure of 
 Canadian soil to the space within the ramparts of Quebec, Three Rivers, and Montreal, 
 rhe first aggressive march by Champlain on the Iroipiois had proved not only a crime, 
 I lilt a mistake. This policy was that of the Jesuits and the successive Governors of 
 New France. It consisted in converting and arming, as allies and proselytes, one Indian 
 tribe against the other. Whatever may be thought of the morality of this policy, it 
 might, no doubt, have proved successful, had the French only been so fo.tunate as to 
 choose for their allies the more warlike Indian tribes. Unhappily, ever since Cham- 
 plain's expedition up the Ottawa, he and his successors selected as their friends the 
 (' ebler and less military races — the Ottawas, Hurons and Aigonquins ; by which step, as 
 well as by their own repeated acts of violence, they drew on themselves the relentless hatred 
 
i82 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 of the powerful confederacy known as the Iroquois, later called the Six-Nation Indians. 
 Up to the time of the American Revolution, these savages maintained, in greater efficiency 
 than has been known elsewhere among their wandering and disunited race, that military 
 organization which seems the only approach to civilization of which the Indian in his 
 native condition is capable. The Irocpiois were to the Algonquins and Hurons what the 
 Zulus are to the other negro races of Kast Africa. Those virtues and physical gifts 
 which belong to savage life, and are apt to sicken or become extinct by contact with 
 civilization, the Iroquois possessed. Their fidelity to friends is unstained by any record 
 of such treachery as was shown by the Huron allies of Uaulac des Ormeaux; their 
 savage practices of purposed cruelty proved how much the possession of reason enabled 
 the human brutes, who tore the scalps from their still living prisoners, to degrade 
 themselves below the level of the wolf and bear, the emblems of their tribe. With 
 the recklessness of a lofty ambition, the Trench leaders had resolved to extend the 
 dominions of the Catholic Church and the I'Vench King far in the rear and to the 
 southward of the English settlements on the Atlantic seaboard. In the prosecution of 
 this grand scheme they drew on themselves the hatred not only of the Iroquois whose 
 lands they invaded, but of the enemies of their own race and religion by whom these 
 wolves of the wilderness were armed and hounded on. The year 1689 saw New 
 France, under the rule of the reckless Marquis de Denonville, engaged in an Indian 
 war along her whole line of settlements. The Iroquois had received great provo- 
 cation. The Governor, by means of the Jesuit missionaries, whom he made his uncon- 
 scious accomplices, had induced a number of Iro(]uois chiefs to meet him in peaceful 
 conference. These he had seized and sent to France, that their toil as galley-slaves 
 might amuse the Royal vanity. The Iroquois had scorned to revenge this perfidy on 
 the missionaries, who were sent in safety from their camp. But a terrible retribution 
 was at hand. Nearly two centuries ago, on the night of August 5th, 1689, as the 
 inhabit of Lachine lay sleeping, amid a storm of hail upon the lake which effectually 
 
 disguised the noise of their landing, a force of many hundred warriors, armed, and 
 besmeared with war-paint, matle a descent upon Lachine. Through the night they noise- 
 lessly surrounded every building in the village. With dawn the fearful war-whoop awoke 
 men, women and children, to their doom of torture and death. The village was fired ; 
 by its light in the early morn, the horror-stricken inhabitants of Montreal could see from 
 their fortifications the nameless cruelties which preceded the massacre. It ii said the 
 Iroquois indulged so freely in the fire-water of the Lachine merchants, that hatl the de- 
 fenders of Villemarie betm prompt to seize the favourable moment, the drunken wretches 
 might have been slaughtered like swine. Paralyzed by the horrors they had witnessed, 
 the French let the occasion slip ; at nightfall the savages withdrew to the mainland, not, 
 however, without signifying by yells, repeated to the number of ninety, how many prisoners 
 they carried away. From the ramparts of Villemarie, and amid the blackened ruins ol 
 
THE LOWER OTTAWA 183 
 
 Lachine, the garrison watched the fires on the opposite shore, kindled for what purposes 
 of nameless cruelty they knew too well. The fate of Lachine marks the lowest point 
 in the fortunes of New France ; by what deeds of heroism they were retrieved, is not 
 the least glorious page in Canadian history. 
 
 Leaving the village of Lachine, it will be well to walk some distance along the 
 lower road which skirts the river. Here, amid sylvan shades of pleasant retirement, we 
 may enjoy the Lucretian satisfaction of viewing the distant rapids. Beyond the point 
 of a long, low-lying ridge of rocky islet, the river is white with wrathful foam, and the 
 spray clouds rise when a steamer is gallantly breasting the torrent. Meanwhile, the 
 robins are singing from the maple trees, and the cows — those optimists of the animal 
 creation — are looking placidly forth on the rapids as if they knew that all was for the 
 best ! We pass a huge lumbering but not unpicturesque farmer's wagon, laden v.ith 
 grain for the mill to which the farmer's wife — a comely Canadienne, in the usual loose 
 jacket and inevitable white hat — is driving a horse that will certainly not run away. 
 The mill is a feature in the landscape worth observing — a (juadrangular stone tower 
 broad at the base, its lines converging at the top to support the old-fashioned, cruciform 
 wind-sails, whose great arms move through the air like those of the giants Don Quixote 
 assailed. Surrounded by spreading trees, and close to this beautiful river scenery, 
 the old windmill, weather-beaten and mellowed by its seventy years' service, has an 
 air of rustic grace not to I)e found in more recent and more pretentious structures. 
 It seems that there was at one time a dispute between the owner of this mill and 
 the l*"athe:s of St. Sulpice. who claimed the sole right of milling on the island, 
 and that the cause was decided in favour of the; miller, who was, however, forbidden 
 to rebuild his mill should it chance to I)e destroyed. Hence it was that he re- 
 paired the wooden structure by surrounding it with the stone wall which gives it its 
 present fortress-like appearance. 
 
 From Lachine may be s('en in the far distance the Indian village of Caughnawaga, 
 wiu're, civilized and Christianized, some five hundred descendants of the Iroquois de- 
 stroyers of Lachine dream away their harmless and useless lives. This, and such as 
 this, on other Indian reserves, is the result of all the heroism chronicled in the 
 volumes of the Rclatiotis dcs Jcsiiitcs ! By martyrdom, by endurance of privations and 
 cruelties compared with which martyrdom might seem a merciful relief, they gained 
 their object. They converted at last the terrible Iroquois enemy ! And with what 
 result ? So much and such noble effort, only to be wasted on a race fast becoming 
 I'xtinct ; a race which, a century hence, will have left no memorial to the Canada of 
 the future, save where here and there our cities and rivers recall the strange music 
 of the Indian names ! 
 
 We steam along the northern shore of Lake St. Louis past the Isle Derval, a portion 
 i>f the lake where the colour of the purplish-brown water of the Ottawa may be d.stin- 
 
1 84 
 
 FRENCFT CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 OLD WlMlMII.I. ON I.ACHINK KOAI). AM) DISIANI VIKW 1)1- I.ACHINK KAl'lDS. 
 
 guishcd from the screen tinu^c of the St. Lawrence;. ()( course, this is not ohs(rrvahle under 
 all conditions of the atinosjihere, but on brii^dit, sunshiny days, there can be no doidjt 
 whatever that this difference in colour can be distinctly traced. The dark, purple tinge 
 characterizes the imperial river, which, from as yet almost une.xplored sources, stretching 
 to the watershed of Hudson's May, from tributary rivers extending (>ast and west and 
 south, through many a wide-spreading lake, and over cataracts lifting their columns of 
 
THE LOWER OTTAWA 
 
 185 
 
 spray to the clouds of heaven, past the metropolitan city of Canada, and through valleys 
 and amid hills and islands rich in every inia_i,Mnable type of nature's loveliness — here meets 
 at last its equal — here blends its waters, though as yet distinct in colour, with its own 
 
 legitimate sister, the great 
 lake stream of the St. Law- 
 rence. Swiftly we steam 
 on, crossing Lake St. Louis, 
 where steamers are passing 
 and re-passing, and the gay 
 yachts of Montreal spread 
 their white wings to the 
 breeze. The waters of 
 Lake St. Louis are shallow, 
 and the shores flat, and 
 
 CANAL LOCK, AND KAM.WAV MKIDGK AT STK. A.NNK'S. 
 
 hinged with dusky woods, presenting no marked characteristics, f^xcept the huge guide 
 |iiers erected on the way to .Ste. Anne's, to mark and preserve the channel. Looming 
 lit.'fore us in the mist, w(; can see, as it stretches from tlu- mainland of Ontario to 
 the Isle of Montreal, the great bridge of the Grand Trunk Railway. In order to avoid 
 the rapids at the dcboucliement of the Ottawa, we enter a canal close to Ste. Anne's 
 nd the abutment of the Grand Trunk bridge. This canal is about the eighth of a 
 
i86 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN UFH AND CHARACTER 
 
 mile long, and has a single lock near the railway bridge. It was constructed in place 
 of one built as early as 1816, and rebuilt 
 in 1833 by the Ottawa Forwardi 
 pany, who made some difficulty 
 ting the passage of vessels not c 
 with their own business. This c 
 much inconvenience, that the Leg 
 of Upper Canada took the matter i 
 and built the present canal at Ste. 
 Those sentimentalists who last 
 refused to sec beauty in industrii 
 ings and works, who wept 
 over steamships profaning 
 the solitudes of Cumber- 
 land lakes, and could see 
 
 ATCH TOWKR. 
 
 #r' 
 
 g picturesque 
 in a building that 
 was not a castle or at 
 least a ruin, would de- 
 termine on principle, and 
 beforehand, that there could 
 be nothing attractive about 
 a mere railwa\- bridge. Yet 
 let those who do not refuse 
 to see Nature, as faithfully 
 interpreted by Art, consider 
 how even this magnificent 
 lake scenery is enhanced by 
 this work, no less magni- 
 ficent, of human enterprise 
 and skill. On six- 
 teen square tow- 
 ers of stone-work, 
 each massive as 
 the keep of a fort- 
 ress, is supported 
 the viaduct which gives passage to Canada's most important railway. As the steamer 
 passes under with lowered funnel, we look l^ack on the lake and the mainland beyond it. 
 where, far over the St. Lawrence, the summits, 'ndistinct and dim, of the Adirondack 
 
 REMAINS OF ANCIENT CASTLE 
 
 <Jkjl. 
 
THE LOWER OTTAWA 187 
 
 Mountains, mingle with the clouds. At our left are the rapids — not deep, but neces- 
 sary to be avoided on account of their shallowness. Here, on rude rafts, stand the 
 shad-fi:ihers, ready to spear or net the fish which, visiting these rapids in shoals, come to 
 watch for food. Poised on the precarious footing of a couple of planks fastened 
 together and tossing on the waves, they plunge and replunge the net, not seldom 
 bringing to light the sparkling and leaping fish, whose capture is to these poor hahitans 
 a source of no little gain. We pass under the bridge and through the lock, where a 
 number of the country-folk are lounging, to greet the steamer and her cargo of pleasure- 
 seekers. The male liabila)it's dress, if not exactly |)icturesque, is peculiar, and in har- 
 mony with the hot weather of .\ugust. As a rule no coat is worn ; waistcoat and 
 shirt-sleeves and loose, baggy trousers, form the whole costume, and it is dc rigciir that 
 l)oth hands be kept in the trousers' pockets. The head-dress is a hat with narrow rim 
 and high, conical top, similar to those popularly believed to be worn by magicians 
 and witches! With them is a group of apple-women, healthy-looking dames, with short 
 kirtles, 'kerchiefed neck, and broad, white hats. Here we find for sale green apples of last 
 season, yet fresh and in gooil condition, and paper bags full of delicious grapes. Once 
 more we disembark to stroll through the village, consisting of a group of those 
 pretty Lower Canadian houses no poverty can make unpicturesque. In the midst 
 of these is the church, a structun; where the substratum of Gothic is varied with 
 the features so strang(;ly adopted from classical architecture by the art of the Re- 
 naissance. At the shrine of good .Ste. Anne, the pious voyagcnr, about to encounter 
 the perils of lumbering or river-driving, comes to pay his vows and leave his modest 
 offering to her of whom the mediaeval poet sang : 
 
 "Anna parii' iris Marias, 
 
 UT PR.r.mXIl I'.SAIAS." 
 
 We enter the church. Jean or Baptiste is kneeling reverently. Keenly alive to the misery 
 of parting with a cent of his hard-earned wages on all other occasions, here he is liberal. 
 It is a scene that reminds one of the Middle Ages, nay, of more primitive faiths, before 
 the ages called Christian. 
 
 Having passed through the village, we reach the ruins of a castle built Xo defend 
 the island at this point, and evidently once a fortalice of considerable importance. 
 On the brow of a hill commanding an extensive view of tiie lake, is a circular 
 watch-tower, loop-holed for musketry, whose broken embrasures once held cannon 
 controlling the landing and approaches to the castle beneath. Lower down and 
 close to the landing-place are two castles, built after the model of- fortresses of 
 tlie Middle Ages — in each a lofty keep or central tower, quadrangular, without 
 windows, save the narrow aperture through which the arquebuse of the defenders 
 
1 88 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 might aim securely at the kirking Iroquois without. The rest of the castle consists 
 
 of high walls enclosiiijjf space sufficient to 
 shelter the women and chililren of 
 the settlement in cast- of invasion, 
 ami this aj;ain protected by tlanking 
 turrets. Hoth buildings are without 
 ornament, save that with which 'i'ime 
 has invested the crumbling ruins; 
 gaunt and gray, they staml, amid the 
 most peaceful scenes that our world 
 can show, the memorials of a Past 
 
 
 which, though not two 
 centuri<;s gone by, al- 
 ready' seems to belon;^ 
 to the Middle Ages! 
 Such a fortress as this 
 would have been proof against any artillery which raiders from the New Kngland colonies 
 could have brought against New France ; against the Iroquois it was impregnable. 
 
 BACK RIVER BRmGE, AND SHAD KISHING. 
 
THE I.OUr.R OTTAWA i8y 
 
 Ik-fore us, as the steamer leav<:s Ste. Anne's, lies the first of those expansions of the 
 Kiver Ottawa which so frequently occur throughout its entire course, the Lake of 
 Two Mountains. The larger Mountain was named "Calvary" l)y the piety of the first 
 settlers. In the continual presence of the terrible clangers which threatened those who. 
 as one of them said of the Montreal settlement, had thrust their hand into the wolf's 
 den, the founders of New I'Vance sought everywhere to impress on the land of their 
 adoption the traces of that religion which was their chief comfort. At its summit were 
 seven chapels— the memorials (jf the mystic seven of St. John's vision — the scene of 
 many a pilgrimage, where gallant cavalier and high-born lady from their fastness at 
 X'illemarie toiled, side by side, up the same wear\- ht-ight. 
 
 Near this we visit the pretty village of Oka. whence the Indian occupants have 
 been wisely removed by the Dominion (iovernment to Muskoka. Their cottages still 
 line the shore beneath the shade of ancient elm trees; a large cross close to the landing 
 invites the contemplation of tht; pious, whih; summer-houses and other garniture for 
 pleasure-making are ready for the holiday folk who crowd to this popular summer resort 
 in skiff and steamer. To this class belong the youthful pair whom a venerable gray 
 horse conveys — neither he nor they being at all in a hurry — along the Oka road in one of 
 those ancient covered calalics used in this part of Canada. The young lady is driving ; 
 the "hood" of the vehicle covers both of them from a passing shower or from the gaze 
 of too curious eyes. 
 
 We steam across the Lake of Two Mountains. It is an irregularly-shaped expanse 
 of water, in length twenty-four miles, and from three to four miles wide. Calm as are 
 these summer lakes, an experience of a sudden squall shows how the usually placid 
 waters can be lashed into furious waves. Suddenly the sky is overclouded, the moun- 
 tains on the shore seem to have withdrawn into the dim distance, the woods are swathed 
 ill mist, and cpiick and sharp descends upon our deck and on the waves around us the 
 white electric rain. We meet one of those huge barges similar to those we saw in the 
 l.achine Canal. How its heavy hulk rolls and labours while tlie surf breaks over it! 
 Hut the strong boat is seaworth)-, and the steam-tug in charge tows it heavily on. 
 
 The country on (jur left consists of the counties of X'audreuil and Soulanges which, 
 though on the Ontario side of the Ottawa, are part of the Province of Quebec. In 
 these, as on the opposite side of the river, the I">ench language and institutions prexail. 
 In the seigniory of Rigaud, near the upper portion of the Lake of Two Mountains, 
 i^ a remarkable mound, the " Montague Ste. Magdelaine," at whose top is a quad- 
 rangular area of some acres, covered with stone boulders arranged by a strange 
 laprice of nature to resemble a freshly-ploughed field — whence the place is called 
 ' Plnic de ntcrcts." From underLrround, tlie murmur as of flowing water can be 
 distinctly heard; but all attempts to discover the cause are said to have failed, though 
 the earth has been dug to the depth of many feet. At the foot of this moun- 
 
I go 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 LUWl.K Ul lAWA bCl-.NKS. 
 
THE LO]VER OTTAWA 
 
 191 
 
 o 
 
 
 tain on th?' lake 
 sliorc, l)('siclc the 
 moiitli of the Ri- 
 viere a hi (jraisse, 
 is the pleasant Ht- 
 tle hrench xilhig^e 
 of Riband. 
 
 At no threat 
 distance from the 
 north-eastern side 
 of the Lake of 
 Two Mountains 
 are the \'iilaij;-es 
 of St. Eustache, 
 Ste. Scholasti(|ue 
 antl St. Benoit — 
 scenes of conflict 
 ijetween " Patriots" 
 and " Loyahsts " 
 in the trouhUnis 
 times of '-^1' wlien 
 passions were ex- 
 cited and ^aUant 
 citizens wt;re in 
 arms aj^ainst eacli 
 otiier in feuds, 
 which, thanks to 
 subsequent wise 
 government and 
 a i)etter state of 
 feeling, are now 
 happily as extinct 
 as tli(; wars with 
 the Iro(]uois. 
 
 Near the uj^per 
 expansion of the 
 lake is the vil- 
 lage and headland 
 called " Pointe aux 
 
192 
 
 FRENC-: CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 Anglais," whence 
 
 forth over the broad expanse *" . "- ssfe ■^'x^'%a»'- 
 
 of desolate moor, shallows 
 
 and bush -covered islets in 
 
 the foreground, and stretchin(»- far and wide over the horizon from the north shore, 
 
 the dusky shades of the Laurentian hills, desolate and forbidding, as it were a 
 
 wall between us and the fertile lands beyond them. 
 
 At Carillon the steamer's course is once more barred by rapids, to avoid which a 
 canal has been constructed ; but passengers b)- the mail-boat land at Carillon and 
 take train to (irenville, a distance of twelve miles, whence another steamer proceeds 
 without farther interruption to Ottawa. Opposite Carillon, at Point Fortune, the river 
 becomes tin; boundary line between the two Provinces. At the Chute au Hlondeau is 
 another canal an eighth of a mile in length, and a dam has here been thrown across the 
 river, which so pens back the waters that only a passage of three-quarters of a mile in 
 length is now needed to reach the higher level above the chute. Heside the Long .Saull 
 Rapid is the Cjren\ille Canal, e.\ca\ated for the most part through solid rock, and leading 
 to the village of Cjrenville, a distance of six miles. These three canals were constructed, 
 like that of the Rideau, by the Imperial Government for military purposes. Happily, 
 there is no prospect of their being needed for such ; and even should necessity arise, 
 their usefulness is a thing of the past, superseded, as they now are, by the opening of 
 the St. Lawrence Canals and the Grand Trunk Railway on the front, as well as by the 
 
THE LOWER OTTAWA i93 
 
 new lines of railway to the north, which make our intercommunication secure from any 
 foe. Down these three rapids — the Carillon, Long Sault, and Chute au Blondeau — the 
 lumbermen descend on their cribs of timber. Formidable as this feat looks, it is 
 frequently accomplished by travellers who adventure in company with the raftsmen, 
 and seldom suffer worse consequences than a wetting. 
 
 In these rapids Samuel de Champlain nearly lost his life at the commencement of 
 his first expedition up the Ottawa from Montreal to Allumette. The forest along the 
 river bank was so impenetrably tangled, that he and his party were fain to force their 
 way through the rapids, pushing and drawing their canoes from one point to another, 
 While thus engaged Champlain fell, and would have perished in the eddy of the rapids, 
 as has many a gallant lumberman since, had he not been saved by the friendly help of 
 a boulder against which lie was carried. 
 
 The Pass of the Long Sault, on the western shore of these rapids, is memora- 
 ble as the scene of patriotic self-devotion not unworth\' to be compared with the 
 achievements of a Decius or a Leonidas. In the year 1660 the PVench colonists of 
 Villemarie and Quebec learned, with dismay, that a united effort for their destruction 
 was about to be made by the whole force of the Irocjuois Confederacy. Then Uaulac 
 des Ormeaux, a youthful nobleman, with sixteen companions, resolved to strike a blow 
 which, at the sacrifice of their own lives, might break the power and arrest the 
 progress of the savage foe. Like the Roman general of old, they clevoted themselves 
 to their doom in a religious spirit, and with the full rites of the Church in whose 
 defence they were about to die. Where then, as now, the roar of the Long Sault 
 Rapids blended with the sigh of the wind through the forest, they entrenched them- 
 selves, with some two-score Huron allies who, however, deserted them in the hour of 
 danger. They had but an old fortification of palisades, which they endeavoured to 
 strengthen. While so engaged, the Iroquois fell upon them. Through successive 
 attacks they held at bay the five hundred painted savages who swarmed, tomahawk in 
 hand, up to the very loopholes of the fort, only to be driven back by the resolute fire 
 of its defenders, leaving among the heaps of slain their chief. Repulsed again and 
 again, the Iroquois deferred the main attack till the arrival of reinforcements, who were 
 marching on Montreal. For three days Daulac des Ormeaux and his handful of 
 gallant followers held their post against the swarming hordes. At length, overwhelmed 
 iiy numbers and exhausted in' hunger, thirst and sleeplessness, they fell, fighting to the 
 last, leaving but four survivors, three of whom, already mortally wounded, were burned 
 at once, while the fourth was reserved for torture. But the Iroquois had paid dearU' 
 for their success. They thought no more — for a time, at least — of attacking the more 
 formidable armaments and fortifications of Montreal. New France was saved by this 
 leed of patriotic self-devotion. Sacred to all time should be the spot which such 
 heroism has ennobled ! 
 
194 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 til.lMl'SlS (Jl TIIK LUUKK U 1 lAWA— THE l.LMHKR IKADK. 
 
THE LOWER OTTAWA 
 
 lo- 
 
 At Grenville we again take the steamer, anxious to penetrate behind the wall of moun- 
 tain ridge which, undulating along the eastern hank of the river, seems to f(jrbid access 
 to the country beyond. This is the Laurentian range, composed of that gneiss which 
 contains the earliest fossil remains of animal life as yet recognized by geologists. We 
 procure a canoe and a guide at Grenville, with the farther necessary equijimeiit of a 
 wagon, wherewith we make our way along the main road to Pointe au Chene, on the 
 River Rouge, above the rapids called " McGillivray's Chute." In its passage through the 
 barriers of Laurentian hills, the Rouge cour-es over a continuous series of rapids to its 
 
 RUNNING THK RAl'IUS. 
 
 junction, twelve miles distant, with the Ottawa. But the beauty of the scenery in this 
 region of mountain and lake well repays the trouble of travel or portage. As we make 
 our way among these hills, so sternly repellant from a distance, we meet fertile \ alleys, 
 rapidly being cleared and made into cultivated farms. We have camped in the woods, 
 glad of shelter, for there is a touch of frost in the early autumn air. Helow, where we 
 stand ready to launch our canoe, are the rapids of McGillivray's Chute, plunging and 
 •xldying over the wave-worn boulders ; above and beyond, the calm expanse of the River 
 Rouge, mirroring the mountain, bright with the forest foliage kindled into rich red 
 gold colour by last night's frost, with here and there the more vivid scarlet of the 
 soft maples. For some miles we ascend the river in our canoe, which, on our return, 
 we have to "-uide through rapids, the surges foaming around us as we pass swiftly 
 through the fretful waters in the shadow of the silent hills. 
 
H;t) 
 
 I'RIiXCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 From the banks of the Rouge our canoe is carried to the shores of Lake Coman- 
 ileau, or " Papineau, " as it has l)een named after the famous leader, near whose home 
 at Montebello its outlet, the Kinonge, flows into the Ottawa. We drive by a very 
 tolerable road, throuLjh the hill-country, past a mountain farm at the head of Lake 
 Comandeau. The homestead and farm buildings are log-houses ; the land is roughly 
 cultivated. Beyond it lies the lake, dark-blue in the shadow of the many-coloured 
 hills which stretch far away into the dimness of the autumn morning. We prepare to 
 launch upon the lake ; ui)on the thickly-wooded shore our canoe lies turned up in the 
 
 V//^ 
 
 ^^'"'''■..'.s*^; 
 
 #i»»&-s":««i..-;..v 
 
 - ."\ ' 'V 
 
 ^ ^^sV\ ■? ■'■■^-- -'■■ 
 
 
 MOUNTAIN FARM. 
 
 sun to dry, to have the seams gummed before starting. Near by is another canoe 
 about to leave the shore, while farther off on the lake is a third midway between us and 
 the opposite side. Beyond, the; mountains, dusky green with shadowy woods, melt away 
 into the morning mists. We launch our canoe ; we speed along over the stirless water 
 mirroring the hills and woods, amid islands aglow with the gay livery of the forest. We 
 reach, far off, an open expanse of lake, where, amid the; shallower waters, the speckled 
 trout are wont to bask. The hills in the distance are dusky purple. Near us is an 
 islet — the trout-fisher's favourite haunt ; overhead, a huge, dome-like rock, stained with 
 all manner of shades — blue, russet and yellow — under the encrusting lichen ; at its side. 
 
THIi I.OIVER OTTAWA 
 
 197 
 
 high above the yellow larches, the tall pines throw their shadows over the lake. This 
 beautiful sheet of water is about ten miles long ; its surface is diversified by numerous 
 small islands, and the mountain scenery amid which it li(;s gives a boldness and sub- 
 limity unknown to Southern lakes, with their low-lying shores. 
 
 Again pursuing our journey up the Ottawa, we pass L'Orignal — the county seat of 
 Prescott and Russell Counties — at which village thr.ee of our passengers leave us for 
 the medicinal Caledonia .Springs, a distance of some nine miles inland. These springs 
 arc said to have been first indicated by the multitudes of wild pigeons that gathered 
 
 ON Tin: rOKTAClK— LAKH CO.MA.NOKAU. 
 
 near the spot. Farther on, upon the Quebec side, deep in the shadow of the elm-wood, 
 rise tlu; towers of what seems one of the anticpie cliateaux of (^Id b'rance. This is the 
 home of Papineau, the leader, through stormy times, of l-"rench-Canadian Liberalism ; 
 one whose eloquence was as remarkable as his personal character was worthy of admi- 
 ration. The feuds of those days are extinct ; we can afford to remember, with pride, 
 the virtues of one of Canada's ablest sons. The beauty of this chateau of Montebello 
 has been worthily celebrated by brechette in the noble tribute which his muse has 
 addressed to the memory of Papineau. 
 
igS 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 We sail on, upon the sombre bosom of the stream, onr course varied by the 
 alternatinj^ narrowness or expan- 
 
 sion of th(! Ottawa ; sometimes 
 amonj^ islands slumberous with 
 dark verdure; ; anon iiu'(!tin]j^ a 
 fleet of broad river-barj^cs laden 
 with the piled-up lumber, and 
 towed ilown stream In- the 
 steam-tu(js which impart their 
 own (juick motion to the inert 
 mass; or a_c^ain steaming throuj^di 
 wide, shallow reaches, where the 
 fisher plies his solitary canoe, 
 and the Canadian boat-son_L,r i-(^. 
 calls its familiar but beauti- 
 ful embodiment by Moore. On 
 our risj-ht is the dcbonchoncnt 
 of the Riviere du Lievre — -a 
 stream of great importance to 
 
 the lumber trade — which, through a course of 350 miles, drains an area greater in 
 extent than some European kingdoms. 
 
 About a mile from the Capital we pass the mouth of the Gatineau, the mightiest 
 
 ■-*<&;.-> 
 
 MONTEBEI.LO— HO.MK OK I'Al'lNKAU. 
 
 A TOW OK LUMBER BARGES. 
 
THE LOWER OTTAWA 
 
 199 
 
 TKOUT KISHING ON I.AKK COMANDliAU. 
 
 of the many tributaries of the Ottawa, which, for seven miles from its outlet, is 
 rendered unnavigable by rapids. But we are already within the precincts of the city, 
 and disembark, after a trip which has opened new phases of picturesque beaut)- in 
 a country hitherto — however well known to commerce — but too little known to art. 
 
 NORTH SHORE OF THK OTTAWA. 
 
300 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 m 
 
 '■'■f 
 
 (n lAWA I'AKI.IAMKNT HL'1I.|)IN( IS. I KOM MAJORS 1111. 1. 
 
OTTAJFA . inSTORICAr. AMD PHSCR/PT/J'R 
 
 20 1 
 
 
 
 A FIRST (IMMI'SK OK THK CAPITAL. 
 
 ^ 
 
 OTTAAVA. 
 
 /CANADA, young as she is, could furnish material for a very lively chapter on the 
 ^^ vicissitudes of capitals. Strategically posted at Niagara, tossed backwards and for- 
 wards, shuttlecock fashion, between jealous Toronto, Kingston, and Quebec, pelted with 
 paving-stones and burned out of their Chamber by an exasperated mob at Montreal, her 
 legislators, thanks to the direct selection of the Queen herself, found refuge in a certain 
 modest village-town, perched meekly on high bluffs and intervening valleys, between the 
 spray and roar of two headlong river-falls. The town of " By " became the city of Ottawa, 
 the peripatetic carpet-bag existence of government officials ceased, and the nomad tribes 
 of the various departments settled down permanently under their own vine and fig-tree 
 by the broad stream which gives its name to the spot. 
 
202 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 But the Ottawa has a past, and to the hereditary enmity existing between two 
 of the three great famihes of Indians in North America cast of the Mississippi — the 
 Iroquois and the Algonquins — an enmity carefully fostered by the greater rival powers of 
 England and France, added to the allurements of commerce in furs, is due the important 
 position held by this river in the life and history of Canada. 
 
 For over i6o years prior to the memorable 8th of September, 1760, when with the 
 keys of Montreal the Marquis De Vaudreuil surrendered all Canada to General 
 Amherst, the blood of Wolfe and Montcalm having just one y6ar before signed the 
 deeds which gave Quebec to England, the " Kit-chi-sippi," the " great river," as it was 
 called by its dusky voyagaci's, was the main route by which the store of furs, gathered 
 through the long w.nter from beaver-dam and haunt of moose and otter, martin, and 
 silver fox, found their toilful way to the big ships of the traders at Tadoussac, Quebec, 
 and Montreal. How cruel the history of this long line of mighty waters, these ever- 
 boiling rapids, tremendous falls, and wide-spreading lakes, is told in colours of blood 
 in the writings of those who lived through the terrible period when civilization was 
 making its slow, sure way into this virgin world. 
 
 To secure the valuable peltry trade, the best efforts of New England and New 
 York, south of the lakes, and of the " company of merchant adventurers of England, 
 trading in Hudson's Bay," were directed. New France was not behindhand, and her 
 daring conrcurs dc bois penetrated far and wide through the vast tract between Hud- 
 son's Bay and the lakes. This, the cold North, was the great fur-bearing land, and 
 through nearly its whole extent ran the mighty stream of the " Outaouais," as their 
 French allies called the natives. By this noble stream, difficult and dangerous as was 
 its course, did the Algonquins — of whom they, with the Hurons, formed part — from 
 their distant territory south of Lake Superior, hold communication with the French 
 settlement at Montreal. Relentlessly driven from the Lower Ottawa by the systematic 
 incursions of the terrible Iroquois, the Ottawas traversed their native woods and waters 
 in fear and trembling. The better portion of their journey down the " Grand River," 
 from the falls of the Chaudiere (where the city of Ottawa now stands), was one of 
 incessant danger from their traditionary foes. Up the river they were comparatively 
 safe, for the natural difiiculties of the turbulent stream mide access so hard and retreat 
 so perilous, that the Iroquois preferred to await them at the falls, or to attack them 
 still farther below, when the most desperate fighting would not ensure safety for their 
 hard-earned cargoes of pelts or secure themselves from the cruelest of tortures and death 
 at the hands of their dread foes. In 1693 a three years' accumulation of beaver-skins 
 lay at Michillinackinac, their main quarters at the head of Lake Huron, and the Ottawa 
 was so closely barred by the Iroquois that no effort could be made to take them down. 
 The loss of its one source of revenue was nearly ruinous to the young colony. At last 
 Count Frontenac, the Governor, caused a strong escort to be got together, and the 
 
OTTAWA: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 20 
 
 J 
 
 arrival at Quebec of two hundred canoes, all laden with furs, told that the long blockade 
 was broken. 
 
 Up this rive", in 161 3, Champlain passed, in the vain hope of finding an open north- 
 west passage to the spice lands of Cathay, till, at an Indian settlement 125 miles above 
 the falls, he learned that his reported salt sea was a myth. Three years later he 
 returned, passing into Lake Huron and so to Lake Simcoe, where he joined the 
 Algonquins in a campaign against the Iroquois, the return journey from Lake Simcoe 
 to Montreal taking forty days. 
 
 But years went by and great changes came. In 1800, Philemon Wright, farmer, 
 of Woburn, Massachusetts, " having a large family to provide for," came, after several 
 visits of exploration, the first of which was made four years previously, back to the 
 foot of the Chaudiere, the "big kettle," bringing twenty-five men with mill-irons, 
 axes, scythes, hoes, fourteen horses, eight oxen, seven sleighs, and five families ol 
 women and children, together with a number of barrels of " clear pork, destitute of 
 bone," of his own raising. For the magnificent sum of twenty dollars, the Indians 
 withdrew their objections to his settlement, and finding that their claims to the land 
 would not be entertained, a certain insinuating appeal for an additional thirty dollars 
 being refused, the poor wretches quietly bowed to the strong will of the Great P^ather 
 across the sea, created the invader a chief, kissed him, dined with him, and made a 
 compact, kept thenceforward with the honesty of the uncontaminated. 
 
 Then followed a long line of busy, useful years, all tending to the improvement of 
 his new domain. Surveys, road-making, clearings, plantings, reapings and building went 
 steadily on, till in twenty-four years he had cleared 3000 acres and had 756 acres in grain 
 and roots, and in 1839 died at the ripe old age of seventy-nine, the father of the town 
 of Hull, on the north side of the river. 
 
 But the south side, whose rough, rocky cliffs had offered no attractions to 
 the adventurous pioneer, was destined to far outshine his settlement. One of his 
 employes, named Nicholas Sparks, was lucky enough to purchase, for a trifling sum, 
 a large quantity of the unprized land ; and when, as a strategic issue of the 
 American troubles of 181 2-15, it was determined by the Imperial Government to con- 
 struct a line of canals to connect the St. Lawrence with the lakes via the River 
 Ottawa, in order to afford means of communication with tide-water free from inimical 
 interruption, Mr. Sparks sold lot on lot to the Government and to enterprising settlers, 
 and cleared about half a million sterling. So " Bytown " arose, taking its name from the 
 colonel of the Royal Engineers, to whom the construction of this great work had been 
 entrusted. For some years it grew and prospered with the pecuniary aid of the mili- 
 tary, the canal labourers, and the lumber trade — the starting of the latter having been 
 due to the indefatigable Wright. Tradesmen, mechanics, doctors, lawyers, and all the 
 constituents of a thriving community gathered rapidly, and in 1851 the town boasted 
 
204 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFIi AND CIIARACTRR 
 
 uni));k DurrKRiN hkiugk. 
 
 eight thousand inhabitants, and the place still continued to grow, tiil in 1865 the seat 
 of (iovernment was transferred to it, and Bytown, thenceforward Ottawa, became the 
 capital. 
 
 The city of to-day is a city of varied elements. Th(;re is the life of the Govern- 
 ment and the life of the river ; the race, language, religion, manners of the cxiicia^ 
 rt[<rii)tc and those of that which succeeded it, two streams of dissimilar character in source, 
 which are content to How in one channel amicaljly, but unmixed. The city may prac 
 tically be said to consist of one h)ng line of l)usiness houses, backeil b\' ganglia ol 
 residences which extend some three miles westward to the Chautliere I'alls and the 
 
OTTAWA: HISTORICAL AND DRSCRIPTn'H 
 
 ao5 
 
 city of Hull, and eastward towards the falls of the Rideau and the village of New 
 Edinburgh, on the right bank of that river. In its centre it is known as Sparks Street, 
 the name being taken from that of the actual founder of the settlement, where are situ- 
 ated the leading business and mercantile establishments. 
 
 The key to the main place of the city is a [)oint where two converging bridges 
 span the Rideau Canal. Standing here and looking west, one sees to the left the old 
 " Sappers' Bridge," a solid stone structure built by the military as part of the canal 
 works. To the right is the " Duffcrin Bridge," a new, well-designed viaduct of iron, 
 which gives access to Wellington .Street, a thoroughfare of noble width, containing the 
 handsome stone buildings of various l)anks, and insurance and rail\va\' offices. Fronting 
 tliis street is the long, low stretch of graceful stone and iron railiiig with its massive 
 gates of fine iron-work which encloses Parliament Square antl the magnificent piles of 
 the (u)vernment buildings. Immctliatcly in front of the two bridges is the new Post 
 ( )ffice and Custom House — a large and elegant stone etlifire in the st\le of the Re- 
 naissance — which is one of the architectural features of the cit\'. 
 
 Turning his back upon tlu; Post Office and looking east, the visitor sees a broad 
 roadway — Rideau .Street — extending, (,)n a gentle acclivity, a couple of mih's. This street 
 is HiuhI with stores and pri\ate houses, and on either side cluster systems of streets 
 containing residences — those on the left, sloping down lowartl the river, beuig known as 
 
 I'UST UlllCK, A.M) nriTKRlN AM) SAI'l'KKS' HKllHji:. 
 
206 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
OTTAIVA: HISTORICAL A\D DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 207 
 
 
 HEAU Ol" THE LOCKS-RIUEAU CANAL. 
 
 Lower Town, while on the hisj^her irround to the right Hes the fashionable district, b)- no 
 misnomer called Sandy Hill. Here are comfortable and often handsome and extensive 
 villas, the more distant of which command charming views of the adjacent country and 
 ihe valley of the Rideaii River. 
 
 Here, also, occupying a considerable extent of ground, is the ritle range, a site of 
 some importance, owing to the fact that it is the scene of the annual meetings of the 
 Dominion Rifle Association, and thiit bt^fore its tw(Mity targets the best shots of the 
 country compete, selecting from their numl«;r the team which is yearly sent to contest at 
 Wimbledon with the crack shots of Great Britain. During the week of the shooting, the 
 I'ity is in a state of martial furore ; coats o( red, dark-green and gray, are seen every- 
 where ; the white tents of the association and of the different competitors picturesquely 
 
208 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 clot the ground ; and the incessant crack of the rille, the strains of miHtary bands, the 
 bright dresses of ladies, and the general charm of the unusual, give all the proceedings 
 an animation for which the social world is the association's debtor. It is a widely 
 ramified institution, practically representing all the Provinces, and is the centre of every- 
 thing appertaining to military rifle practice in the country. It is also an admirable ex- 
 ample of good organization, every detail of its work being thoughtfully brought to the 
 highest point of perfection. 
 
 RIOEAU CANAL LOCKS. 
 
 Coming back again to the bridge, a hundred yards off on the left, with a sharp 
 turn, runs Suffolk Street. Here we enter a section of the city almost exclusive!}' 
 I'rench, with French proprietors and French characteristics ; the baker becomes a bou- 
 iaiiorr, the lawyer is avocat, and uiarchandiscs-scchcs obligingly translates itself into 
 " dry-goods," for the benefit of the un-F"rench world. On this street is a big three-store} 
 cut-stone building recently purchased by Government for the purposes of a Geological 
 Museum, the materials for which were all ready to hand in Montreal. This promises t(i 
 constitute a very durable adjunct to the means of information possessed by the city. Suf- 
 folk Street contains also the French Cathedral, a large and imposing building, of the local 
 
OTTAWA: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 209 
 
 gray-blue limestone, whose capacious interior is resplendent with gilding and wood-carv- 
 ing, the result of recent extensive improvements. This is the main centre of the French 
 and Roman Catholic element. The neighbouring streets are filled with rows of small, 
 clean and tidy cottages, whose good-natured inhabitants uso the old tongue of La Belle 
 France, and are descendants of those early voyagcurs and chanticrs whose traditionary 
 pursuits on the ever-beneficent bosom of the Ottawa they still largely follow. 
 
 Beyond the French Cathedral, the road approaches the river, and runs parallel with 
 it till the Rideau is reached at a point just above the spot where it plunges in two 
 graceful "curtains" of water to supplement the greal stream of the Ottawa, forty feet 
 below. Here is the suburban village of New Edinburgh, and here, too, is the entrance 
 to " Rideau Hall," the local name for Government House, of which more hereafter. 
 
 Reverting to our stand at the junction of the bridges, and still turning our backs 
 to the Post Office, there lies, on the immediate left, the entrance to the Public Gardens^ 
 a long stretch of prettily-planncid walks, grass and flower-beds, with frecjuent rustic 
 seats — which, though still in incomplete form, is one of the favourite summer evening 
 lounges of the citizens. Below, runs the deep gorge through which the waters of the 
 canal, by a magnificent series of locks, have been led to join the Ottawa, and beyond 
 the locks rises the precipitous wooded slope of Parliament Hill; and the vast pile 
 of the " 1-^uildings," whose graceful outline, sharply marked out against the bright 
 sky of tile on-coming evening and the western sun, is a never-ceasing charm to 
 the eyes of the strollers on the garden cliffs. 
 
 Crossing the .Sappers' Bridge and passing the Post Office on our right, we come 
 upon Elgin Street — whose name, as befits the capital, is a memorial of an ex-Governor — 
 and the new City Hall, a large building of blue limestone, containing the various city 
 offices and the machinery for carrying out the civic system. 
 
 P'ollowing Elgin Street a few hundred paces, a fine piece of open ground is met with 
 — Cartier Square — named in honour of the illustrious Canadian statesman under \\hose 
 leadership the Conservative Government for many years held steady sway. Here is the 
 great public meeting-place. Reviews of troops, j)opular gatherings, the rejoicings of 
 festival days, foot-ball and lacrosse matches, find ample accommodation. At the far 
 end stands an enormous red-brick building — the drill shed — under whose noble span a 
 regiment may perform its evolutions in comfort, while commodious sections are fitted 
 up as repositories for the several arms of the militia and volunteer force centred in 
 Ottawa. On one side of the square stands a very extensive pile of buildings in stone, 
 of graceful design — the Normal School — one of the apices of the Government educa- 
 tional system of the Province of Ontario ; and close by is the Collegiate Institute. In 
 this neighbourhood is found the rising " West End " of the community. Villa residences 
 of fine proportions and design, surrounded by well-kept gardens, have sprung up in all 
 directions. Streets which but five or six years ago were bare fields, are now lined 
 
2IO 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN IJFE AND ClfARACTF.R 
 
 ^ 
 
 u 
 
 S 
 < 
 
 a: 
 < 
 
 o 
 
 :4 
 
 < 
 
 9 
 2 
 
 O 
 
OTl'AU^A: HISTORICAL AA'D DRSCRIPTI\'H 211 
 
 with handsome biiildiiiws of hiick arul sloiu-, and the hitherto scattered wealthy home-life 
 of the city seems to be adoptinsj^ at last the principle of segregation, which is the feature 
 of the greater hives in all countries. 
 
 Retracing our steps ah^ng I'Llgin, hack to Sparks Street, we follow the course of 
 the street railway towards the Chaudiere Falls, till Upper Town is left, with its busy 
 shop-life, and passing the water-works at Pooley's Hridge, enter u|)on another phase of 
 the city^the all-important element of lumber. The air becomes hulen with a pleasant, 
 healthy smell of pine -wood, and the stores we pass are (ilU'd with matt'rials of a very 
 matter-of-fact character — stout woollen jerseys and shantyman's boots, notal)le rather for 
 great capacity for honest work than for any extreme elegance of build ; huge saws, 
 circular monsters of brobdingagian proportions, with teeth of the most ap[)alling dimen- 
 sions, and perpendicular giants of unequalled good temper, whose ungentle mission it will 
 be to eat their placid and indifferent way through many a stout-hearted monarch of the 
 woods ; axes of the brightest ; chains, '• cant dogs," peculiarly-shaped instruments for 
 canting over logs into place, and the spike-pole, the lumberman's " best companion." 
 These, and barrels of rough-looking but most palatable pork, his staple food, form tiu> 
 main contents of the stores of this quarter. Life's luxuries have vanished, its realities 
 have full possession. 
 
 As we near the saw-mills the harsh, strident buzz of countless saws is heard. This, 
 day and night, in the "running season," is the cry of the ruthlessly-sundered logs, or 
 the querulous gamut, up and down, which runs never-endingly, the voice of the labouring 
 but ever-victorious saw. Upon every point of rock near the Chaudiere Falls, and upon 
 acres of massive, wooden, stone-filled embankments connecting them, to which the upper 
 waters could be led, there have been reared the huge mill structures of the lumber 
 kings. Flour, cement and wool have also claimed a share of the illimitable water-power. 
 Here, overhanging a precipitous fall — there built out on mighty piles — everywhere mills. 
 In all directions the waters have been boldly seized, cunningly coaxed, audaciously 
 dammed up ; sluices, bulkheads, slides, everywhere, everything is chaotically watery. Yet 
 all is the very essence of order and of nice adjustment of means to ends, a very triumph 
 of triumphant water slavery. The result is, that the greater part of the tremendous 
 stream — here a mile broad at least — is compelled to traverse the main fall about forty 
 feet high, and to escape through the principal channel, about 240 feet wide, across which 
 a light but strong suspension bridge has been cleverly thrown, connecting Ottawa with 
 Hull — the Province of Ontario with that of Quebec. 
 
 In the construction of a bridge at this difficult point the persistency of Bruce's spider 
 has been emulated. Fifty years ago there was no bridge, and the boiling, tumbling waters 
 of the falls a hundred yards above rushed headlong through charming tree-covered islands, 
 i'l all the picturesque freedom of undisturbed nature. In 1827, when the first steps 
 were being taken for the building of the Rideau Canal locks, and little Bytown began to 
 
212 rRliXCIl CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 look up in the world, the shot of a cannon carried from rock to rock across the whirlinjj^ 
 stream a small rope ; this rope was the parent of much emleavour, of repeated failure;, 
 but of ultimate success. iMuallj', in iS4_^. the |)resent stout structure was reareil, aiul 
 from its tremulous pl.-itform. in all the wild, ceaseless din of fallinj^ waters, rush ol 
 yellow, foam-covend vvavef, and veil of niist\- spra\-, one looks at ease into the once 
 mystic ,ind awful, i-ut now ni< rely picturesepie tumble and toss of livin^c water, the 
 famous Chaudicre. ihdf a mile above, the lon^, graceful lines of a new and substantial 
 iron railway brid>;e "f elev(>n iiuge spans, give farther evidence of the masterj- of man 
 over this once wild spot. 
 
 On the right, beyond a broad area of brownish, gray-coloured rock, bare in the dry 
 summer tinie, but covered with down-rushing water in the river-swollen days of spring, 
 are mills an..' still nio'-e mills, and an immense factory for the; production of matches anil 
 pails — one oi" the " eights " of the locality. On the left, perched high on a labyrinth of 
 monster piles, by which the giant iVirce of the river has i)een damnu-d u[) and curbed, runs 
 a long line of big saw-mills, and entering these, the unearthly din, made up of whirr, bu/z 
 and shriek, becomes absolutely deafening. ilere is the home of the saw, and anything 
 more curiously fascinating than the aspect of the place, with its crowd of ever-bus)' 
 workers, the rapid up-and-down dance of the tremendous saws, can scarcely be imagined. 
 Set, thirty or more, frauKid in a row — those terrible instruments form what is called a 
 "gate" — and towards this uncompromising combination the logs, having first been drawn 
 from the water up an inclined plane, deftly handled and coaxed into position, are irre- 
 sistibly impelled, one succeeding the; other, uay and night. I''or a moment the glittering 
 steei dances before the forest innocent, a veritable "dance of death;" then, with a 
 crash and a hiss, the ugly-looking teeth make the first bite, ami, for tive or six minutes, 
 eat their way steadily through the tough fibre, till that which entered the jaws of the 
 machine a mere log. emerges in the form of sawn planks, which a few more rapid and 
 simple operations convert into v.'ell trimmed and salable lumber, ready for the piling 
 ground and the markets of America and Kurope. 
 
 The scene at night — for work continues both by night and day — is extremely novel 
 and picturesque. .Some of the lumbering firms now use the electric light, and the effect 
 in that pure, clear glare, is of the most Rembrandt-like character. The contrast betwecMi 
 the ilarkness outside, and the weird unearthly figures of the busy crowd ot workers ; 
 the dark, rough backs of the dripping logs, as they are hauled up from the water, 
 catching the reflection, and the sharp llash of the steel as it dances up and down — all 
 contribute to make a picture of the horrible which Vv'ould captivate the pencil of Don- 
 and give Dante a new idea for a modern Inferno. 
 
 Amongst the novel experiences which the city offers to its visitors is the descent 
 of the " slides," whereby the hardships of the lumberman's life become, for a few excitini: 
 moments, the attractive sport of venturesome seekers of strange thrills. The timber for 
 
077AIIA. ///S7VRICAL AXJ) PliSCRlinn E 
 
 '3 
 
 'M' 
 
 CHAUDli'.KK lAl.l.S, AM) SL'SI'KNSION HKIUGK. 
 
2 14 
 
 I'RIiNCH CANADIAN LlFli AND CUARACTER 
 
 I II MDIKr.K I-A1.L3. 
 
 which the spcfial jtrovision of slides is made 
 is no mere roiiLjh Vy^, but has been carefully 
 hewn scjuare in the woods, formin_i( oreat beams, destined 
 for soliil piles or massive buildini;- work. l'"or the 
 avoidance of the unmerciful i^^rindiiiL;' and batt(;rint;- on jiiiJ^jJ^ed rocks which passage 
 over the falls would entail, lon<r, smooth-bottomed channels of massi\e wood and 
 stone-work have bt^en built, leading from the high level above to the wat(.'rs below, 
 the inclination l)(;ing sufficient to bring the limber safely down, carefully made up into 
 lots calK'd "cribs," containing souk; twenty "sticks" of various lengths, but of an uniform 
 width of tw(;nty-four feet, to tit the slide. The desciMit is made at a pace which, with 
 the ever-present possibilitv of a break-up, gives a ver)- respectable sep-,e of excitement 
 to a novice. There is but little attempt at fastening, the buoyancy of the timber and 
 the weight of three or four of the heaviest beams obtainable being sufficient, as a rule, 
 to hold the mass together. 
 
 lust at the head the ailventurous vovaovurs hurriedly (Miibark, the crib being courte- 
 ously iield back for a moment for their convenience. Under direction, they perch them- 
 selves upon the highest timber in the rear, out of the way as far as possible of u[jrushing 
 waters, and the huge mass is cleverly steered by the immense oars which are used for 
 
OTTA II : I . IIISTORHAI. . \ .\ P DF.SL RIPTll 7: 
 
 -^>5 
 
 tlic purpose, towards the entrance! of the cliiitc Ahead for a (piarter of a mile app<;ars 
 I narrow channel, down whicli a shallow stream of water is constantly rnshinj^f, with lujrc 
 and there a drop of some live or eiifht ft^et ; the ladi( s _L,Mllur up their j^^armcMits, as the 
 crib, now hey^innini;" to feel the current, takes matters into its own hands; with rapidly- 
 (piick(Miin^ speed, the unwiekly craft passes under a liridi^c, and with a eroaii and a 
 mighty cracking and splashing;', phnisj^es nose foremost, and tail hi;^h in tlu; air, o\cr tlu! 
 hrst drop. Now she is in tlu; slitle proper, and iIk; pace is exhilarating;^ ; on, over tlur 
 smooth timbers she glides swiftly ; at a bridge ahead passers-by stop, and waxings of friendly 
 handkerchiefs are interchanged. Now comes a bigger drop than the last, and the water, 
 as we go over, surges up through our timiiers, and a shower of spra)' falls about us. 
 
 CKIH Ol' ILNUniR KU.NMMj lllh hl-liU. 
 
 A delicate "Oh!" from the ladi(;s compliments this (effort. Never mind; a little wetting 
 was all in this day's march. Another interxal of smooth rush, and again a drop, and 
 yet another. Ahead, there is a gleam of tossed and tundjleil water, which shows th<' 
 end of the descent ; down still we rush, and with one last wikl dip, which sends the 
 water spurting up about our feet, we have reached the bottom, cleverly caught on a 
 floating platform of wood, called the "apron," which prevents our plunging into 
 
2i6 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 " full fathoms five." We have " run the slides." Now, out oars, and soon, strikinjr 
 into the powerful current which has swept over the falls behind us, we are lyinj^ 
 moored by the side of some huge raft containing, perhaps, a hundred of such cribs 
 as ours, and worth over $100,000, where the process of "re-making up" is going 
 on, preparatory to the long, slow tow down the broad waters of the Ottawa to .Ste. 
 Anne, where the whole work of separation has to be gone over again. Again, too, at 
 Lachine, the whole raft is dismembered, and the dangers of those terrible rapids must 
 be run with no assistance from slides, before the calm bosom of the St. Lawrence 
 can bear our timbers to the tall ships of frowning Quebec and the chances of Atlantic 
 storms. 
 
 For us now, not unwilling to accept the hospitality freely extended to all visitors, 
 there is the pleasant red fire of the raft to stand b\-, and the tin pannikins (carefully 
 cleansed in our honour) filled from a huge and ever-simmering cauldron of blackest tea 
 brew : there is bread, new and white enough, and vigour-giving pork and nourishing 
 beans, all of which Jules, chcf-dc-cuisinc of the craft, offers us with hospitable thought 
 and a pleasant smile, showing his white teeth the while. Jules' dubiously agreeable 
 mission is to fill the ever-empty forty or fifty hearty and healthy giants who com- 
 pose the crew, and as they begin work and breakfasting at daybreak, the generous 
 pots must always be ready to supply food till far on in the night. Such pon- 
 derous and much-worked machinery requires big furnaces, and the fuel must be at 
 hand at all hours. We drink our tea and praise the bread — bringing thereby a glow 
 of satisfaction to the brown cheek of our kind cook — and, if allowed, present a small 
 doHCcnr ; then, with a hand-shake and a ho)i c'0]'(7i;r, we step ashore and leave our craft 
 to its fate. 
 
 This descent of the slides is a feature so peculiar to the city that all her illustrious 
 visitors are introduced to its charms as a matter of course. The Prince of Wales, Prince 
 Arthur, the Grand Duke Alexis, Lord and Lady Dufferin, and Lord Lome with the 
 Princess Louise, L^v'e all undergone the ordeal with much success and amusement, and 
 have thereby entered the ranks of the initiated into the craft of the raftsmen. P'arther 
 than this slight playful flirtation with a difficult and dangerous life, the)' would not 
 probably care to venture. 
 
 A simple, kindly-hearted, easily-amused race of men are these same stalwart sons 01 
 the forest, the rapid, and the stream. Given plenty of work and l)lent^• of food, and 
 having unlimited fresh air and consciences the most unburdened, the labours of the da\- 
 find sufficient relief in nightl)- gatherings round the huge fires of the raft or shant)-. 
 Some will certainly be found who can tell a good story, dance a cunning if nois)' jig, 
 or sing one of the many (piaint, childish, but often touching airs which, floating down 
 intact from the [jrimitive days of the early JM'ench rule, still delight the voyaocnrs of 
 to-day. Perhaps it is the story of the (rois beaux canards, who, swimming in the pond, 
 
OTTAWA: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIl'H 217 
 
 are shot at by the fib du roi, so ludcliant with its Hkely but inconsonant chorus of the 
 "roHing ball"; how the white duck fell, and 
 
 " Par CCS ycHx lui sort'nt des diamants 
 
 En ronlant ma houlc. 
 Et pay cc bcc, For ct l'ars;cnt, 
 Rouic, ronlant, ma hoiilc ronlant ; 
 
 En ronlant ma bonlc ronlant, 
 
 En ronlant ma bonlc" 
 
 is a tale known wherever the shantyman has set foot. Or perhaps the praises of their 
 snug halting place, " Bytown," are sung. Thu.s — i 
 
 " A Bytoion ccst unc jolic place 
 Ou 1 1 s'ramass ben dla crasse ; 
 Ok ya dcs jolics filles 
 Et anssi dcs jolts gar cons. 
 Dans Ics chantiers nons hivernerons" 
 
 Popular amongst their songs is that of the famous Marlborough, hero of la belle 
 fiation, by virtue of his five years' service with Turenne ; and the air " Malbroitgh s 
 I'n va-t-cn gncr-re" queerly surviving with us as wedded to the words, " We won't go 
 home till morning," has startled the drinking deer of many a river bend on many a 
 misty morning. Hut chief of all stands the tender "A la clairc fontainc T with its 
 sad lover of the weeping heart and lost mistress, which, it is said, all the Canadian 
 world, from the child of seven to the white-haired man, knows and sings. These 
 are the songs which can still be heard from the brow of Parliament Hill, on the 
 warm summer evenings, floating up from the monster rafts which, ever-gathering, lie 
 moored at its wood-fringed base ; links are these songs, binding the river of the Past 
 to the river of To-day. 
 
 Beyond Major's Hill, or rather at its extreme end, is Nepean Point, a rival to the 
 big rocky promontory io the westward, upon which the Parliament Buildings stand. 
 Here is the saluting battery, from which, on certain high "white stone " days, the curl 
 of smoke and boom of big guns tells of a fresh birthday for the Queen, or for the 
 young Dominion, or of the state visits of England's representatives to the Senate, or of 
 the opening or closing of Parliament. From this, of all the many points from which 
 the " Buildings" can be viewed, they present, perhaps, the most picturesque aspect. Suffi- 
 ciently near to be taken in as a whole, and yet far enough off to be merged in the 
 grace-giving veil of the atmosphere, their effect in the warm glow of tlu; sun as it sets 
 in the west is simply delightful to the painter's eye. Bit by bit their dainty towers and 
 pinnacles and buttresses fade out in the subdued tones of evening, changing from the 
 
2l8 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 " symphony '\\\ rea ' to a 
 " harmony in graj," tiil moon- 
 Hght makes them aii glorious 
 as a " nocturne in silver and 
 black." 
 
 But the centre — the heart 
 — of Ottawa lies, of course, 
 in its Parliament and De- 
 partmental Buildings. Com- 
 menced in 1859, the first 
 stone was laid by the Prince 
 of Wales in i860, and 
 they were occupied in 
 1865, though much re- 
 mained to be done after 
 that date ; the library 
 and an extension of 
 one of the blocks, the 
 grounds, and 
 the surround- 
 ing walls and 
 railings, hav- 
 ing been subse- 
 quently added. 
 In their present 
 form they cost 
 fully five mill- 
 ion dollars, and 
 cover an area 
 of about four 
 acres. They 
 
 f o r m three 
 sides of a huge 
 squan.', which 
 is laid down 
 in grass, beau- 
 tifully kept, 
 whose fresh, 
 green surface. 
 
OTTAWA: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 219 
 
 IROM MAIN liNTRANCP: UNUKK CENTRAL TOWER. 
 
 crossed with broad paths, stands above the level of Wellinirton Street, from which it is 
 separated by a low stone wall with handsome railiny^ and spates. Rising above this 
 s(]uare, on a stone terrace with sloping carriage approaches on either side, the grea*" 
 central block, with a massive tower 220 feet high in the centre, faces the square. This 
 building, three store\s in height, has a frontage of forty-seven feet and, like the sister 
 buildings on either side, is built in a style of architecture based on the Gothic 
 of the twelftli century, combining the elements of grace and simplicity which the 
 climate of the country seems to re([uire. A cream-coloured sandstoni^ from the 
 neighbouring district, to which age is fast adding fresh beauty of colour, with 
 arches over the iloors and windows of a warm, red sa:idstone from Potsdam and 
 dressings of Ohio freestone, has been happil\- employed^the effect of colour, apart 
 from form, being most gratc^ful to the e\-e. This building contains the two Cham- 
 bers — for the Commons and tin; Senate— and all tlie accommodation necessar)- for 
 the officers of both Houses. The Chamber of the Commons is an oblong hall, fitted 
 
22u 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN UFJ: AN/) CHARACTER 
 
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OTTAWA: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIIE 
 
 22 I 
 
 with separate seats and desks for the members, the Speaker's chair beinir placed in 
 the middle of one side, leavinn a somewhat narrow passage-way from which on either 
 hand the desks of the members rise in tiers. The ceiling is supported by graceful clus- 
 
 MAIN lUlI. DINGS, llOUSliS Ol" I'ARL1A>»!:NT. 
 
 ters of marble pillars -four in each — and a broad galler\- runs round the Chami)er which, 
 on important nights, is crowtled with politicians, ladies, members of deputations and 
 others interestetl, from all parts of the Dominion. The debates would be more appre- 
 ciatetl b\' tin; pui)lic if tin: sp(.;akers couKl be belter heard, though perhaps such a 
 statement implies a comi)liment that should be limited to a select few of the members; 
 but, as with so man\' other buililings intended for public speaking, the Chamber was 
 constructed without reference to an\' principles of acoustics. l'"e\v of the speeches de- 
 livered in the House can be called inspiring. In fact, when not personal, they an; pro- 
 saic. This can hardh' be helped, for a Canadian Parliament, like Congress in the 
 United .Stales, deals, as a rule, with matters from which oidy genius could draw inspi- 
 ration. 'Idle I""rench-Canadian mend)ers, in consequenc>., probably, of the classical training 
 that is the basis of their education, are far superior to their English-speaking coii/rdrcs 
 
22 2 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CffARACTFR 
 
 in accuracy of expression and grace of style. Hven wlien they speak in English these 
 qualities are noticeable. The Senate Chamber, which, with its offices, occupies the other 
 half of the huge building, is of precisely the same architectural character, the colouring 
 of carpets and upholstery being, however, of crimson, and the seats being differently 
 arranged ; the throne, occupied by the representative of Her Majesty, is at tli<; far end, 
 on a dais of crimson cloth ; and in front of it is the Sneaker's chair. Here the cere- 
 monies connected with the opening and closing of Parliament take place — the former 
 being an event of much importance — indeed, one of the leading incidents of the life of 
 the capital. It is a pretty sight, with the gay uniforms of the military, the rich dress 
 of the ministers, the scarlet gowns of the Supreme Court judges, and the varied 
 toilets of the ladies. It is usually followed in the evening by the holding of a " draw- 
 ing-room," at which the strict rules of eticpiette which govern European assemblages 
 of the kind are dispensed with, and any one who desires can, by complying with 
 the ordinary requirements of every-day domestic life as to evening dress, be present, 
 and make acquaintance with the representative of the Crown in most simple and re- 
 publican fashion. 
 
 Behind the two Chambers is situated the Parliamentary Library, a building of ex- 
 ceptional architectural grace externally. Flying buttresses of great strength and beauty 
 give a distinctive character to the structure, while its lofty dome is a landmark far and 
 near. Inside it is fitted with all possible regard to convenience, the workmanshii) being 
 of elaborately-carved wood, and comprising cunningly-devised recesses for reading purposes, 
 with rooms for the librarian and his staff. In the centre is a noble marl le statue of 
 the Queen, executed by Marshall Wood. Marble busts of the Prince and Princess of 
 Wales are prominent treasures of the room. In its ch.icf librarian, Dr. Alpheus Todd, 
 it possesses a head whose standing as a writer upon constitutional law is recognized in 
 all parts of the world. The remaining buildings, on the east and west sides of the 
 square, are occupied by the several departments of the Government, and are well 
 adapted to meet the present requirements. The east block, which contains the office of 
 the Governor-General and the Chambers of the Privy Council, possesses at its entrance 
 a tower of graceful design, which very favourably impresses the spectator from Elgin 
 Street, to whose e)-e it gives the first intimation of the vicinity of the buildings. 
 
 Running entirely round the three blocks of the Parliament and Departmental 
 buildings is a broad drive, and at the sides and in rear of the library, the grounds, 
 like those in the front, are laid out in handsome and well-planned llower-beds, with 
 great stretches of green lawn, overlooking the cliff. Here, from a pretty summer- 
 house erected close to the edge of the precipitous slope, a widelj- conmianding 
 view is afforded of the broad stream of the Ottawa to the east and west. Immense 
 rafts are being made; up in all directions ; steamers and tugs ply up and down, tak- 
 ing big barges, laden with lumber, to the markets of the world, or toilfully working 
 
OTTAWA: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 223 
 
 their way up the rapid current with the burden of a lontj "tow" of empty ones re- 
 turnini; to the yards to 
 be reloaded. 
 
 On the other side is 
 the cit)- of Hull, and 
 farther down the river 
 is the mouth of the 
 Gatineau, itself a L^reat 
 river, whose banks are 
 
 TOWER OF EASTERN BLOCK, DEPARTMENTAL BUILDINGS. 
 
 studded here and there with (jueer clusters of wooden cottages, which the spring freshets 
 annually transform into lacustrine dwellings of most grotescpie discomfort. Over, far away, 
 
 "Where the siimiy eiul of evening smiles — 
 Miles and miles," 
 
 is the range of hills, the outcrop of the old Laurentians, known as the King's 
 
2 24 FRENCH CANADJAiX IJFJi AND ClfARACTRR 
 
 Mountain, where are all manner of deliirluful haunts f(ir th(; artist — tiny lakes and 
 seared and inoss-n^rown cHffs w-mX hu^c houKU'rs -places where man is yet a slranj^^er and 
 the whistle of the- locomotive ,i. far-distant horror of the future. The \alle_\- of tin? 
 Gatineau is mar\ (■llousl\- rich in mineral wealth — phosphates, iron ore of the |)urest 
 plumbago, mica, antl almost all known \arieties of minerals are found, thoujj^h discovery 
 in this direction is \et in its infancy. Tlu; lirst three are, howc;\er, somewhat extensively 
 mined, and only await the advent of capital to become a source of y^reat wealth to 
 the nciti^hbourhood. This is a countr\- rich, too, in jirizes for the botanist and ento- 
 molot^ist, while the river boasts of rajjids and falls which would deliij^ht the eye ot the 
 painter, so <;racefully picturt'scpie are their manifold surginj^s and l(;apin(;s. 
 
 Besides tlut (iatineau and the hilly ran^c; in front, tin; summer-house ogives a \iew 
 to the west far up tlu; ( )ttawa till, nine mih's off, the shimmer of light shows a broail 
 surface of smooth water. Lac du Chene is one of the man\- expansions of the noble river, 
 beside which, snugly nestled, lies the village of A\lmer, a great centre for summer 
 excursions, being only twenty minutes' run from the cit\- by train. l^elow, at our feet, 
 there runs all the way round the steep slope of Parlianumt Mill, a delightful winding 
 path — the " Lover's Walk " — cut out of the hillside. A more; charming stroll for man 
 or maid, lover or misanthrope, could not be wished for. Shut oft from the city life 
 and embowered in trees, whose cool shade makes the hottest day bearal)le, the fortunate 
 Ottawaite can here "laze" himself into a state of tlri;amy contentment. Through bri-aks 
 in the foliage the silver river gleams, busy and beautiful, a luintlred feet below ; the 
 white stems of the birch gracefully relieve the sombre gleam of hemlock and the fresher 
 tints of the maple, all for him. Birds talk to him, sing to him. The oriole, with its 
 uniform of black and orange, pauses a moment to wish him well, and a bright gleam 
 of greenish-blue shows him the kingfisher, far too busily engaged for talk. Perhaps 
 the momentary hovering of a tiny ball of emeraltl and sapphire and opal, and a soimd 
 as of an overgrown bumble-bee, shows the presence of a humming-bird ; while from 
 some near bough the "Canada bird" repeats its tenderly sjmpathetic note — "Poor 
 Canada, Canada, Canada!" with most evidimt irrelevancy and possible chaff. From the 
 mills of the Chaudiere come the faint buzz of tlu; saw, and the noise of th(! " Big 
 Kettle." which is well seen from th(; " Walk." All this in the golden haze of a sum- 
 mer's afternoon I Who shall say that (Ottawa is not beautiful? 
 
 But when the summer has worn away, antl the frost in the chill}- autumn nights 
 has " bitten the heel of the going )-ear." and the sensitive leaves of the maples, stricken 
 to death by the first breath of winter, (Mid th(;ir brief lives in an exquisite fever 
 thish, making wood and hillside a very painter's feast of rich colour, Ottawa begins 
 to prepare for the second phase of her existence, her merry winter season. Then comes 
 the first snow fall, and soon the cheery ting-tang of sleigh-bells makes gay music for a 
 gay white world, and the rumble and dust of her summer streets have gone for a five 
 
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2 26 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 months' spell. Steamers and tugs and barges are laid up in her once-busy stream, and 
 the sluggish waters thicken with the increasing cold till, bit by bii, the tiny ice crystals 
 knit themselves into a solid coat two feet in thickness, and the (Jttawa is bridged from 
 shore to shore. 
 
 That the winter in Ottawa is emphatically wiulcr, and no half-hearted compro- 
 mise, there is not a shadow of doubt, and therein lies its charm. No vacillating slush 
 and half-melted snow in the streets, no rain and fog in the air — all is hard and white 
 and clear underfoot, while overhead there is the purest of blue skies, which night trans- 
 forms into the most glorious of diamond-studded canopies. 
 
 Here now flock from the shores of the Atlantic, a thousand miles away; from 
 Manitoba, the hopeful centre of the Dominion ; from beyond the towering barriers of 
 the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific Coast, three thousand miles distant ; and from many 
 a city, town, village and homestead between — the legislators of the land. The ordinarily 
 quiet streets are busy with life, the hotels are all crowded, and the lobbies of the Par- 
 liament Buildings are haunted by those peculiar gentry who gather together round 
 dispensers of patronage. Dances, dinners, balls and theatricals follow in quick succes- 
 sion. Visitors on business and visitors on pleasure come and go, and the work and 
 play of a whole year is compressed into three stirring months ; the noble piles of the 
 public buildings are brilliant with light, while far into the night the many-coloured win- 
 dows of the " Chambers " throw gay reflections on the snow outside. 
 
 The chief centre, as is fitting, of all winter hospitality, is Government House ; and 
 in the occupants of the "Hall" Canada has long had representatives of her dignity, 
 who have worthily maintained her character as a generous and hospitable country, and 
 the care which grudges no pains or cost to give pleasure has its own reward in the 
 kindly feeling which invariably follows acquaintance with the simple-mannered, self-for- 
 getting lady and gentleman who stand at the head of Canadian society. 
 
 Government House is about two miles from the city. Past the Rideau Falls, the 
 road leads on through the village of New Edinburgh to the lodge gates. Down this 
 road, in the winter of 1880, the horses attached to the sleigh which was conveying 
 H. R. H. the Princess Louise, to hold a drawing-room in the Senate Chamber, bolted, over- 
 turning the sleigh, dragging it a considerable distance along the frozen ground. This 
 accident resulted, unhappily, in severe injury to the illustrious lady. Once through the 
 gates, a drive of a few hundred yards through a pretty bit of native woodland leads 
 to the house. Half way up this drive the Princess has caused an opening to be cut 
 in the woods, known as the " Princess' Vista," through which a lovely view is afTorded 
 of the broad stream of the Ottawa and the shore and distant hills beyond. 
 
 Utterly devoid of any attempt at architectural style — a piecemeal agglomeration of 
 incongruous brick, plaster, and stone, " Rideau Hall " or Government House is at once 
 one of the most unpretentious and disappointing yet comfortable of residences. Set in 
 
OTT.Iir.l: UlsrORlCAL AM) PESCRIPTH'E 
 
 2-7 
 
 H 
 
 I/; 
 
 i'. 
 
 O 
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 C 
 
22S 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 THE PRINCESS' VISTA. 
 
 a delightfully varied area of grass, garden, and forest, comprising nearly ninety acres of 
 land, the building presents an aspect the most commonplace to the visitor, who sees 
 only the bare wooden porch of the doorway, flanked on the right by the tennis court 
 (which by a charming transformation does duty as a supper-room), and on the left by 
 the ball-room. But the pleasantness of the place lies in the yet unseen. Away back from 
 that unprepossessing central doorway stretches a long, gray-stone, two-storied building, 
 whose rooms look out upon flower-gardens and conservatories, and which has all those 
 delightful surprises in the way of cosy, oddly-shaped apartments, such as buildings 
 which have grown, bit by bit, from small beginnings so often possess. 
 
 Besides the never-ending round of balls, dinners and general entertaining, for which 
 Government House is famous, there is the range of out-of-door fun ; and here come in 
 
OTTAirA: HISTORICAL AND DliSCRIPTIVE 229 
 
 skating, curlinjr, and above all, the tobogjran. Out of Canada or Russia, the delights 
 of the toboggan slide are but matters of imagination. Nowhere else can the swift down- 
 ward rush into the strong, healthy embrace of the frosty air, over the glossy, white surface 
 of the hardened snow be enjoyed ; and the very best of Canadian slides — barring the 
 somewhat dangerful Montmorency, and perhaps the glacis of Fort Henry at Kingston — 
 is at Government House. Here, in the grounds, reared on a high moimd, there rises 
 far above the tree-tops all through the summer a huge bare structure of stout timbers, 
 from the summit of which descends, at a steep angle, a boarded trough, ending with 
 the foot of the hill, which winter sees snow-covered and the centre of laughter and 
 most hearty, healthful fun. This, and two fine, smooth areas of well-kept ice, and a long, 
 covered rink for the benefit of curlers, are among the attractions to hundreds of guests 
 of the House through the winter season. It is a merry, jolly scene, when the rinks are 
 crowded with skaters performing all manner of intricate figures and dances, while the 
 sharp hiss and clink of the steel forms a cheery accompaniment to the roar and rush 
 of the toboggan as it sweeps down with its laughing load and vanishes far away under 
 the distant trees. 
 
 To the Canadian the toboggan is as familiar as a household word : but for the benefit 
 of the uninitiated, it should be e.xplained that it is a thin strip of wood about two feet 
 wide and six or eight feet long, curled up in front to throw off the snow, the "form" being 
 maintained by thongs of deer's sinew. Upon this a well-padded cushion or buffalo-skin 
 'S fastened, and the result is a toboggan of luxury. To be comfortable, one should 
 be prepared — the object being to keep out the fine snow from a too intimate relationship 
 with the body. A pair of thick woollen stockings and moose-skin moccasins over the 
 feet, a blanket-coat of white or blue, and a tuque (or habitant's long cap) on the head, 
 or one of fur well jammed down over the ears, with long, fur gauntlets, makes a 
 capital costume. The ladies are charming in gay blanket coats of red or white or blue, 
 or warm fur mantles, with snug white "cloud?" wound coquettishly over their fur caps. 
 Most bewitching is this Canadian tobogganning dress, bringing such piquant effect to 
 a pretty face touched with the ripe, rich glow of health, as makes mere ball-room 
 beauty commonplace. The toboggan is a most accommodating vehicle. Charming 
 as a carrier of two, it is delightful with three, and four can go down on it with comfort. 
 Having climbed to the top of the slide by a series of steps, the party prepares to de- 
 scend. The garments of the gentle freight are carefully tucked in and, seated one 
 behind the other, the steerer last, ready either with hand or with foot outstretched , 
 behind to guide the erratic craft. Letting go their hold, with the swoop of an eagle 
 and a harsh, grating, crash and crackle, down they rush at the rate of twenty miles an 
 hour, cutting the sharp, keen air which, in return, almost takes their breath away ; 
 bounding headlong over any irregularities in the road, past the foot of the hill in a 
 twinkling, where a crowd of spectators stands ready to applaud success or laugh at 
 
FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 mishap, and flashing along^ 
 the smooth white track 
 beyond for a quarter of a 
 mile or more till the speed 
 slackens, and they spring 
 up hurriedly, to leave the 
 path clear for the next 
 jolly party which is close 
 on their heels. Sometimes 
 
 and, indeed, frequent- 
 ly enous^h, there is a 
 spill ; the tohofffjan is 
 ill-balanced, some one 
 moves to rioht or 
 left, or the preceding 
 tobogyjan has scored 
 too deep a curve in 
 the snow, and in a 
 moment the whole 
 party is sent flying at 
 all manner of queer 
 tangents, but no harm 
 is done. There is a 
 good deal of laugh- 
 ing, much brushing 
 ofT of the snow-dust, 
 
OTTAWA: HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 231 
 
 iVjpw-'ii^-TT 
 
 
 , iSSS'WfSEEW.*': s-tIB™!- 
 
 •5, > \i . iT "' — ' ' 
 
 •;(M'^ 
 
 and — "better luck next time." It is half the 
 fun being occasionally upset, and, indeed, it 
 takes some skill and much good fortune to 
 ensure a successful run. Lortl Lome, besides 
 building a second and loftier slide, has introduced a new charm — tobogganning by 
 torchlight — and a more quaintly fairy picture could not be desired than this affords. 
 Hundreds of Chinese lanterns dot the trees or hang in festoons, while the long course 
 is outlined with flaming torches, and a monster bonfire throws a ruddy glow over 
 everything. Hot mulled wine and coffee and the music of a military band make the 
 charm complete, and supper puts the perfecting touch to Canada's great winter pastime. 
 Into this merry sport, as into all others which the bright Canadian winter offers, 
 the Princess enters with the hearty zest of her simple, unaffected, womanly nature, 
 laughingly beguiling her more timid guests into essaying the descent with her, and suc- 
 cessfully "taking them down." Both the present Governor-General and his predecessor, 
 throwing the same energy into their play as into their work, have been the life and soul 
 of rink and slide ; and the natural, home-like life of the " Hall," which so many hun- 
 dreds have shared, is at its brightest in these constantly-repeated gatherings. 
 
 Such, then, is Ottawa in its several aspects of social, political, and business life — the 
 
 Fair city with its crown of towers," 
 
 as Lord Dufferin happily styled her. Picturesque she cannot fail to be, for nature has 
 made her so ; a power she must be for good or bad, throughout the land, for her 
 
232 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 fortunes have so willed it. Holding in her midst the centred force of a whole people, 
 and being, by virtue of her strange wild past and noble present, the link that binds the 
 old to the new— the experience-taught, sober Old World across the sea to the fresh 
 energy and restless vitality of this great young continent — may she prove worthy of her 
 honours! May the bells of the capital of the Dominion ever — 
 
 " Ring out a slowly-dying cause, 
 
 And ancient forms of party strife ; 
 Ring in the Jiohler modes of life 
 With sweeter manners, purer laws." 
 
 VICE-REGAL CHAIR, SENATE CHAMBER. 
 
THE UPPER OTTAWA 
 
 2.53 
 
 THE UPPER OTTAWA 
 
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 T~*HE attractions of the city to which the Ottawa River has given a name, its 
 political, social, and commercial importance, lead many to limit their interest to 
 that part of the river which lies below the Chaudiere. Yet the Upper Ottawa 
 presents an unbroken panorama of scenery scarce to be rivalled in Canada, if on 
 the American continent ; scenery that changes from the pastoral calm of unruffled 
 river and lake, fit mirror and bath for the yet unscared Dryad of the woods, which 
 alternate with wheat-field, farm, and village — to the torrent, whirling trees like play- 
 things ; the cascade leaping in silver shaft from the precipice ; the archipelago of five 
 hundred islets ; the still, dark depth of current under Oiseau Rock ; the broad, navigable 
 stream between mountains clad with primeval forest, — to where the locomotive of the 
 new-built railway outscreams the eagle amid the lonely hills of Mattawa. The scenery 
 of the Upper Ottawa is, perhaps, the least known in Canada. It is still in very many 
 places as wild, as unmarked by the presence of man, as when Champlain discovered it. 
 Yet it is full of promise for the wealth and civilization of the future ; unlimited wood- 
 supply and water-power ; land that bears the finest of cereals ; marble that already 
 decks the Chambers of our National Parliament ; with hills and cliffs in whose womb 
 lie, awaiting birth, the most useful of the economic metals. Such are but a few of the 
 natural advantages of this part of our country. 
 
 Nor is the scenery without historic associations of interest. From the earlier times 
 it was the great water highway of the Indian race, who knew no better road for their 
 hunting expeditions. Its true Indian name was the " Kit-chi-sippe," of which the French 
 
234 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 "Grande Riviere" is a mere literal translation; "sippi," or "sippe," meaning water, as in 
 " Mississippi," and many other Indian names. 
 
 The name "Ottawa" was, according to the best Indian authorities, the appellation 
 of a tribe of Algonquins whom the French voyagcurs met on the river, although their 
 real home was on Lake Michigan — the word signifying "the human ear," a tribal 
 title. A portion of this tribe occupied the territory near Calumet and Allumette. 
 
 The modern history of the Upper Ottawa begins with the illustrious discoverer 
 who first led the way on its waters to the great lakes of the West — Samuel dc 
 Champlain — of whom mention has elsewhere been made in this work as the Father of 
 New France and the Founder of Quebec and Montreal. An embassy from the Algon- 
 quins of the Ottawa had asked his aid in their war with the Iroquois, who, inhabit- 
 ing what is now New York State, were a kind of pre-historic Annexationists in 
 their desire to add to their own country what is now Canada. It was, all through, 
 Champlain's policy to make the Algonquins subjects, converts and soldiers, against the 
 Iroquois heathen. And when a Frenchman of his party, named Vignan, who had passed 
 up the river in the Algonquin canoes, returned, after a year in the Upper Ottawa region, 
 with a wonderful story of a great lake at the source of the Ottawa, and of a river beyond 
 it that led to the ocean, Champlain was captivated by the tale. All the gold of India 
 and the spice islands of the Orien. seemed brought within the reach of France. On 
 Monday, the 27th day of May, 161 5, he left his fort at Montreal with a party of 
 five Frenchmen— including Vignan — and a single Indian guide, in two small canoes. 
 Carrying their canoes by land past the rapids, they glided in the tiny egg-shell ships 
 that were freighted with the future of Canada's civilization, over the tranquil depth of 
 Lac du Chene, till the cataracts of the Chats, foaming over the limestone barrier 
 stretched across the lake, confronted them as with a wall of waters. Undaunted by a 
 scene still, as then, terrible in its wild sublimity, they pressed on, toiling with their 
 canoes over the portage to where Arnprior now stands ; thence over the Lake of the 
 Chats to what is now Portage du Fort. Here the Indians said that the rapids — those 
 of the Calumet — were impassable. They entered the broken hill country through a 
 pine forest where a late tornado had strewn huge trees in every direction. In the 
 painful toil of crossing this debris, they lost part of their baggage. Long years after- 
 ward a rapier and an astrolabe, or astronomical instrument for observing the stars, were 
 found in this region ; the date on the astrolabe, corresponding to that of this expedition, 
 showing it to be a veritable relic of Champlain. Past the perilous impediments of this 
 portage, they crossed Lake Coulange to the island of the Allumette. There a friendly 
 chief named Tessonet received them. While at his camp, Champlain discovered that 
 Vignan had deceived him, and had never been farther up the river than the camp of 
 Tessonet. Champlain pardoned the impostor, whom his Indian allies wished to kill with 
 torture. He then returned to the fort at Quebec, and in his frail vessel once more 
 
. THE UPPER OTTAWA 235 
 
 crossed the ocean to France. Here he met with some encouragement, and returning 
 with supplies and missionary priests, Champlain set out a second time on the Upper 
 Ottawa with a single I'Venchman and ten Indians, till he reached the Indian camp at 
 Allumette. Thence, twenty miles of navigable river stretched before him, straight as 
 the bird flies, between the sombre hills. Passing the rapids — the Joachim and the Cari- 
 bou, the Rocher Capitaine and the Deux Rivieres — they reached the term of their 
 voyage on the Ottawa at its junction with the Mattawa. Thence they made their 
 way to Lake Nipissing and the great Western Lakes. A score of years afterwards, 
 successful in all the great exploits he had undertaken, this strange compound of adven- 
 turer, statesman, soldier, saint and scholar, died at Quebec, on Christmas Day, 1635. 
 
 To Champlain, discoverer of the Upper Ottawa route, traders and mission priests 
 succeeded as civilizing agents. A fur-trading company was formed by merchants in 
 France, whose voyageurs and conrcnrs de bois penetrated far up the river among the 
 friendly Algonquins. Important mission stations were formed in the Huron and Simcoe 
 regions, the road to which was by the Upper Ottawa. It is impossible to read of the 
 marvellous labours and sufferings of those missionaries without feeling the admiration due 
 to brave men. One missionary died at a slow fire, his neck circled with hot axes, his 
 head in mockery baptised with boiling water, praying for his torturers to the end. 
 Father Jogues, having survived torture and mutilation, returned to France, where he 
 was greeted as a martyr for the Faith. All Europe rang with his praise. In the Royal 
 Palace the Queen — Anne of Austria — kissed his dismembered hand. But he would not 
 be stayed from returning to his work in the wilderness. Another was found dead in 
 the woods. He was kneeling ; his hands clasped — frozen while he prayed ! Apostolic 
 devotion met with Apostolic success. The blood of the Jesuit martyrs has been the seed 
 of the Roman Church on the Upper Ottawa. In every town and village, even to far-oif 
 Mattawa, the Roman Catholic church is one of the largest ; the Indians continue firm 
 in its fold. Regular visits are paid each winter by mission priests to the shanties ; few 
 Christian congregations are more devoted to their clergy or more attentive to religious 
 worship, than these rough, French-speaking lumbermen, many of whom are of half-Indian 
 descent. 
 
 To the fur-trade of the French merchants succeeded, after the English Conquest, the 
 rule of the Hudson's Bay Company, whose forts and outposts have been receding, as a 
 higher form of industry supplants the trafiFic of the hunters. Now the trade, par excel- 
 lence, of the Upper Ottawa, is that of lumber, for which the river is the main artery 
 in Canada. In fact, this industry has assumed a first place in our commerce; the vast 
 forests along the river margin are peopled every season by armies of lumbermen ; and 
 the Ottawa floats the wealth thus secured on to the sea-ships that bear it to every 
 haven in the world. 
 
 For nine miles above the Chaudifere the Ottawa is so broken by rapids as to be 
 
236 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 TIMBER BOOM, Fl IZKOY HAKBOUK. 
 
 unnavigable. A steamer plies between Aylmer and Fitzroy Harbour, on the Ottawa 
 side of the Chats rapids. The passage along the expansion of the river, called Lac 
 du Chene, affords a view of the pleasant village of Aylmer. On either shore the 
 countr)- side betokens advanced civilization — gardens and farm-lands stretching far and 
 wide. On the C)ttawa side a quaint old wooden church marks, in the township of South 
 March, the settlement of descendants of military ofificers of the Anglo-American War of 
 181 2-1 5. On the Quebec side is the village of Quio, at the mouth of the river of the 
 same name, where the steamer calls. In the background are the dark outlines of the Lau- 
 rentian Mountains, their nearer slopes covered with dense woods. The scenery now is 
 as wild as when Champlain first adventured on these waters. Landing at Pontiac, from 
 a group of log-houses whose primitive roughness is not ill-matched with the scenery, we 
 
THH UPPER OTTAWA 
 
 237 
 
 see in the distance the giji;antic limestone barrier which here crosses the river, and the far- 
 off column of cataract-spray from the largest of the Chats rapids. The steamer touches, 
 at Fitzroy Harbour, a point in the scene well worthy of study, and where we get one 
 of the best views of the Chats. The little village is out of sight — insignificant and 
 poverty-stricken — but from the hill which hides it we see the walls of precipice, island 
 and cataract, which stretch across the entire Ottawa, like the bridle of stone with 
 which the genii in Eastern fable were bidden to curb some mighty river! At the 
 left side, on the Fitzroy shore, is the mouth of the River Carp, which winds its tortu- 
 ous way from the pleasant pastures of Hazeldean, near Ottawa ; and a semi-circular 
 strand, strewn with logs, ends in a point covered with dense, low verdure. 
 
 THK CHATS, 1 ROM I'ONTIAC. 
 
 Near us, two fishermen are shoving off a boat ; it is of the kind called a 
 bonne, or "good girl." These boats are much used by lumbermen. Flat-bottomed, 
 invariably painted red, and shaped something like a "scow." It is well to hire one 
 of them and push into the lake so as to get a thorough view of the waterfalls. 
 These are generally counted as si.xteen ; in reality, w^e observe many more, and as 
 we get nearer, realize the fact that the entire strength and stress of the Ottawa is 
 bent on forcing its way over this barrier of limestone precipice. Sometimes it takes 
 the opposing rampart by storm, surging over it in a sudden charge, foamless and 
 spraylcss, an unbroken dome of water ; then, as its first force is spent, and it has 
 lost its spring, it begins to plunge, surging and seething round the rocks that inter- 
 pose to break its course, and hurling downwards the logs it has carried in its current, 
 like missiles against a foe. Or, as we glide beneath the overhanging cliffs, we see 
 how, from some narrow opening at the summit, a rocket-like, lance-shaped shaft of 
 clear white water leaps alone into the abyss below ! Between the cascades, the rocks 
 appear like separate islands, where the thirsty cedars and willows cling with serpent-like 
 
= 38 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 roots to the watcr-hollowcMl stone ; 
 
 maple and birch brighten in_Li^ the 
 
 sombre pines, and veteran firs, ij^aiint 
 
 with years, keeping guard. And through 
 
 all, in a thousand unseen channels, we feel 
 
 that the ri\er-flood is spreading the secret 
 
 of its fertilizing power. Most remarkable 
 
 of all, however, is the largest of the 
 
 " chutes " — or waterfalls ; it is that whose white spray, rising 
 
 high over the outline of the wood, we saw from Pontiac — a pillar of mist, which but 
 
 for its purer whiteness, might be mistaken for one of the columns of bush-f'ire smoke 
 
 in the country around. 
 
 On a closer view we discern, on either side, the shelving or sharpened masses of 
 bare brown rock, to whose sides and summits the cedars cling as for dear life, clutching 
 with their spreading roots all available vantage-ground. Far above, where the wind 
 wafts aside the curtain of dim-blue vapour, we can see the torrent sweep, at first 
 without impediment or break. But in the centre, black against the snow-coloured 
 cataract, rises a mass of rock— a miniature fortress — secure in the midst of the tur- 
 moil. Breaking upon this, like cavalry against an army it cannot shake or shatter. 
 
 Ll 
 
THE i'PPER OTTAWA 
 
 239 
 
 the priile of the cascade is humbled. It divides into two torrents, in whose career 
 all shapt; and outline is lost in a fury of foam, in \va\-es that hurry they know not 
 whither, turninn- to and fro the loe's that W\cV. their course, and fully reali/.intj the 
 grace and houndinj^ case of the tameless wild beast from which thes(,' waterfalls 
 were not inaptly named. 
 
 As a means of din-ct communication between the portions of the river above 
 and below the Chats, a slide has been constructed at considerabk? expense b\' the 
 
 
 l.HKi. IKOM I in: ( HAIS. 
 
 Canadian Go\ernment. Hi'side this the slide-master's house is built, a y;^ood view of 
 which may be seen from bit/roy llarbour. After examining the waterfalls, and 
 especially the largest chute, the Niagara of the Chats, it is pleasant, while close 
 to its reek and rout, to look towards tlu; Ouebec sidt; from the strip of waters to 
 the " b^verlasting Hills" in the far (.listance ; the; charm of the perspective is enhanced 
 b\' jutting point anil island, beyond which are the church-towers and house roofs of 
 the bVench village of Oiiio. 
 
 The origin of the; name " Chats " is doidjtful. Some say it is a translation of the 
 Indian appellation, it being a habit of the early b'rench voyagcnrs to adopt the Indian 
 designations ; others, that it was so called from the number of wild-cats found in the 
 neighbouring woods ; while a ri;semblance that might well have suggested the name is 
 seen in the cataracts with extended claws, in rift(;d rc^cks like the fangs of the Jelimc, 
 in the hissing, spluttering and fury of the descending cascades. But above that region 
 of noise and terror, the "Lake of the Wild-Cats" is tame, with talons sheathed and 
 tempestuous passions hushed. Through the clear, exhilarating air, the sun is strewing 
 
240 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 gold upon the stirless water, except where the steamer glides with a track of swaying 
 jewels. The sky is imaged in tiie ultramarine of the lake, or rather, of the river, 
 which here expands so broadly that a faint blue mist veils the woods on the Quebec 
 shore. This expansion extends nearly to Portage du Fort. Arnprior, on the south 
 shore, is a place of some importance, from its lumbering establishments and its quar- 
 ries of beautiful marble, of which the shafts of the columns in the Houses of Par- 
 liament at Ottawa are formed. Beyond and above us, wind, with slope ever-changing, 
 never monotonous, the dark-purple undulations of the Laurentian Hills. 
 
 Near the end of the lake we notice an enormous boom stretching across the 
 river. On the Quebec shore is the dwelling of the boom-master, whose duty it is 
 to see to all things pertaining to the effective working of that important key to the 
 lumberer's treasury. The boom seems closed against us ; but as our steamer, the 
 " Jeannette," approaches, the boom-master's assistant, who has been on the look-out for 
 us, walks airily along the floating boom, narrow as it is, and opens a kind of gate. 
 We pass through, and steam onward under the shadow of a steep hill covered with 
 forest, the haunt of bears and lynxes. Here the river parts into several narrow 
 channels, which run between small islands of white stone. The current is very rapid ; 
 at the high water of spring no steamer can breast it, but now our little craft makes 
 way gallantly. As we pass close beneath the miniature cliffs, we remark how their 
 rocky sides are scooped and tunnelled, sometimes in the most curious shapes and 
 mimicries of human art. As a rule, the markings are longitudinal, and resemble those 
 which a comb would make if drawn along the surface of a fresh-plastered wall. The 
 farthest of these islets is called Snow Island. To the river-drivers descending the 
 stream in the spring, the mass of white rock looks like a huge drift of snow. 
 
 The steamer lands us at the little village of Portage du Fort, at the foot of the 
 series of rapids down which, from over the falls of the Calumet, the Ottawa thunders. 
 The road, up hill and down gully, which replaces the portage path of ancient days, even 
 now suggests the difficulties which caused this carrying-place to be called " Portage du 
 Fort." Before the construction of the railway, this bit of stage-road was an important 
 link in the chain of Upper Ottawa communication ; but now it is little used except 
 by the river-drivers and the few inhabitants of the villages at either end. We 
 pass a pretty little Gothic church perched on the hill which overlooks the Por- 
 tage du Fort rapids. It belongs to the PZpiscopalians, and is built in rigidly-correct 
 early English style ; there are some good memorial windows, gifts of the Usburne 
 family who owned the mills, which have since been transferred to Braeside, near Arn- 
 prior. The river between Portage du Fort and the Calumet is only navigable by the 
 lumbermen's boats descending the current in the high waters of spring-time. Even to 
 these, this part of the Ottawa is dangerous, and is the scene of many fatal accidents. 
 Where the river winds under the Portage du Fort church, its course takes a sudden 
 
THE UPPER OTTAWA 241 
 
 turn, at the northern angle of which there is a projecting arm of sharp-pointed rock, 
 partially submerged by the spring llood-tides. Woe to the birch canoe or even the 
 stouter-ribbed bonne carried, by incautious steering, too near the " Devil's Elbow." Over 
 nine miles of uninteresting hilly road we drive to Bryson, a thriving village close to the 
 Calumet Falls, where we hire a canoe with an Indian — or rather, half-breed — to propel 
 it. He is most painstaking in his endeavour to carry us to every point of interest. 
 Strangely insecure as these most capsizeable of craft appear on first acquaintance, one 
 soon gets to like them. The motion is gentle, and they glide over the water like a 
 duck. The canoe brings us to a point where, by ascending a portage track up the 
 hill, we get close to the Grand Chute. This track is much worn. As we reach the 
 summit of the hill, the guide bids us pause beside a mound covered with stones and 
 fenced by a rude railing. The railing and a rough attempt at a memorial cross have 
 nearly all been cut away by the knives of visitors — not in desecrating curiosity, but 
 in veneration for the sanctity of him who sleeps beneath ! It is the grave of Cadieux. 
 
 In the days of the early French explorations of the Upper Ottawa, there came to 
 this region of the Allumette and Calumet, where Champlain himself had been so kindly 
 received by the chiefs of the Ottawa Indians, a I'rench voyagcur named Cadieux. No 
 one knew why he had quitted Old France ; but though he could fight and hunt as 
 deftly as the oldest couycur dc hois, Cadieux also knew many things that were strange to 
 these rough children of the forest. He was highly educated. Especially could he com- 
 pose both music and poetry, and could sing so that it was good to hear him ; and he 
 wooed and won a lovely Indian maiden of the Algonquin Ottawas. Their wigwam, 
 with those of a few of her tribe, stood near this very spot, close to the Great Fall of 
 the Calumet. Once upon a time, they were preparing their canoes to go down 
 with their store of winter furs to Montreal. All was peace in their camp when, on a 
 sudden, the alarm was given that a large war-party of the dreaded Iroquois were stealing 
 through the woods. There was but one hope left. Cadieux, with a single Indian to 
 support him, would hold the foe at bay, while his wife and her friends should launch 
 their canoe down the rapids. It was quickly done. The canoe was committed to the 
 boiling waters of the cataract, the skilful Indians paddled for their lives, and the wife of 
 Cadieux, who was a devout Catholic, prayed Ste. Anne to help them. From eddy to 
 eddy the canoe was swept, and still, as she bounded on, the Indians saw that a figure 
 seemed to move before them to direct their course — a form as of a lady in mist-like, 
 white robes. It was Ste. Anne, protecting her votaress ! And so they all made their 
 way safe to Montreal, thanks to the good Saint. 
 
 But poor Cadieux did not fare quite so well. Instead of invoking a saint, he was 
 carefully taking up his position behind one tree after another, every now and then 
 shooting an Iroquois. These subtle warriors, not liking to fight what they supposed to 
 be a considerable force, withdrew. But the comrade of Cadieux was slain, his home 
 
242 /'VvV:AY'// c:iA\l/)/.l.\' l.IFh: AM) CIlARACTr.R 
 
 tlcstroycd, ami aftt-r some clays CadicuN liiiiisclf died of exhaustion in th(! woods. Hesidc 
 him was fouiul, tracetl i)y his (hinj^ haml, " Lc l.iviunt di' Cailicitx" his ileath-sonj^, which 
 the :'(>V(n;(/i/s havi' s('t to a pleasing; hut nielanchol)' air. It is much in the style of similar 
 " Laments," once common in Xorman-l'reiuh, and is still a favourite at the shanties 
 and on tin; river. (Jur j^uide, who did not look on the ahoxe-i^iven leL;('iul from the 
 point of view of "the hii;h(;r criticism," an<l wiio had a pleasiuL; voice, .sanj.,^ tlu; sonj^ 
 as we stood hesiiU; the }^rav«'. The hreiich lumhermen and Indians still come here- to 
 pray — to do this hrim^^s vrooil luck on forest ami river and the trees all around are 
 carved with \()tive crosse-s, cut hy the pen-knives of the devout amoui^ the lumbermen. 
 
 We descend throui^h the wood, ohserviuL;, as we pass, another enormous timber 
 slide. Again we take our way throui^h the wooils and down to tile beach, where we 
 hear the roar, before indistinct, of the rapiils. A little farther on we reach the spray- 
 drenched, slippery rocks, and the t^realtist of the I'jjper Ottawa waterfalls, the Grand 
 Chute of the Calumet, is before us. 
 
 Those who have most fully analyzed the impression made by such cascade scenery 
 as the Chats, will feel that it is made up ot man\' dirtincl impressions of the various 
 forms of falliiiij^ water. In observiii;^ this, the larL^est of the s(;ven chutes of the 
 Calumet, one is struck with the unity and breadth, as well as the sublime beauty, of 
 this cataract. To those who have eyi;s to sei^ and hearts to feel, it is true with ri'^ard 
 to the beauty of form in falling' water, as in all other as])(i:ts of scener)', that Nature 
 n(;ver repeats herself. Her resource's <n'e inexhaustible. It is only the incurable cockni^y 
 who can sa\', " .Sir, one ^reeii field is like all L^reen lieKls !" 
 
 In the backs^roimd is a semi-circle of dark clilfs, L^loomy with impenclini^ pines. It 
 is cleft in the centre, where, from a heii^^dit of sixty feet, through foam and spray, and 
 echo of conepiered rocks, the main l)od\- of tlu; river rushes down. At its base a pro- 
 montorv of black and jaL,^Lied s^'ranite throws into relief the seethins^ mass i)f whiteness. 
 At some distance to tin; left of this, and nean.T to where we stand, a second torrent of 
 volume erpially vast, dashes, white as a snow-drift, through \(m1s of mist. To the 
 rij^ht, where tlu; wall of cliff approaches us, a sinijle thread of sihcr cascade, as furious 
 in its fall, circles and pulsates. In the centre is a vast basin -the meetiniLi^ of the waters — 
 which rush and drive hither and thither, as if they had lost their way and did not 
 know what to do with thcmisc^lves. It is a s[)ectacle not to Ix; paralleUnl in any other 
 waterfall we know of, not exceptini::;' Xiai^^ara : this \'ast sea of cataract, this lak(,' of foam, 
 with its settinij^ of cliff, brown in the shadows, purple in the li.L^ht, and jjarled in the fore- 
 ground by the immense masst-s of ribbed and stratified rock over which the mad pas- 
 sages of watcM" triumph with a supreme sweep and a roar that scares the solitude, as, 
 free at last, th(n' nfiidly career along the lesser rapids to the deep below. Wild and 
 desolate, indeed, are these black and foam-sheeted rocks amid which we stand ; no living 
 presence near, but the fish-hawk hovering, with hoarse scream, over the torrent. 
 
'////: 1/'/'/:R DTT.lirA 
 
 243 
 
 
244 FREXCII CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 Above the Calumet Rapids, as the steamer is no longer running and there is no 
 marked feature in the river scenery to repay canoeing, it is best to drive back to Portage 
 du I'ort and proceed by stage to Ilaley Station, on the Canada Pacific. The country is 
 exceedingly broken and hilly — the same geological formation that we see at the Calumet 
 P^alls. Over this country Champlain toiled in what he has described as the most trying part 
 of his Upper Ottawa expedition. The natural dititiculties of the rugged hillside track 
 were then enhanced by pine forest, impenetrable on either side of the narrow portage 
 path, which was in many places blocked up by fallen trees, the debris of a late tornado. 
 But like the Prince who made his way through the enchanted forest to the " Bel'e 
 ail l)ois dorr.iantc" Samuel de Champlain pressed on through all obstacles to where the 
 I*"uture of Canada called him. His journals record the loss of some portion of his 
 baggage at this part of his route. As we have mentioned, an astrolabe has been found 
 in the neighbourhood, no doubt a relic of this memorable adventure. A journey 
 of thirty miles brings us to Pembroke, the county seat of Renfrew. This thriving 
 town is not yet ii If a century old. Its founder, "Father" White, came to the place 
 in November, 1825. Its prosperity was secured by the gro\\ing lumber trade. It 
 is now a progressive but by no means picturesque semi-circular array of buildings in 
 the rear of the railway bridge, and at the confluence of the river Muskrat with the 
 Ottawa. On all sides are piles of lumber, and Pembroke is scented afar off by the odour 
 of fir, pine and cedar, as surely as Ceylon by " spicy breezes." There are no buildings 
 worthy of remark e.\cept the Court House and the Catholic church — a large but 
 unornamented structure of cold-gray stone, which stands on the highest ground in the 
 centre of the town. Presently we start in a small steamer, similar to that in which we 
 travelled on the Lake of the Chats, noticing the vast quantities of timber afloat in a 
 boom at the mouth of the Muskrat, and a large wooded island near the town, used only 
 as a pleasure resort. With woods and villages indistinct in the distance, Allumette Island 
 lies on the opposite side of this expansion of the Ottawa, which takes the name of the 
 Upper Allumette Lake. We pass on the Ontario side the mouth of Petawawa River, 
 one of the largest lumbering tributaries of the Ottawa, by which some of the best timber 
 is floated down. Its length is one hundred and forty miles, and it drains an area of two 
 thousand two hundred square miles. The Upper Allumette presents much the same 
 features which have been described in the Lake of the Chats, an equally beautiful expanse 
 of water, fringed with dense woods of oak, poplar, birch and maple, while the tall pines 
 everywhere lift their rugged tops above the sea of verdure. The land on either side is 
 said to be excellent and fairly settled, producing quantities of grain and cattle for the 
 use of the lumber shanties. Formerly pork was the staple food of the shantymen, but 
 fresh beef is now found to be healthier for the men, and the cattle are easily driven over 
 the portage, where to carry barrels of pork was endless labour. The Allumette Lake ter- 
 minates at the Narrows — so called not because the river is narrow, but because there is but 
 
THE UPPER OTTAWA 245 
 
 a small channel navigable. In this, as we pass, soundings are taken with a pole, the 
 steamer stoppin;^ wliile it is beinj^ clone. Here we enter an archipelago of seemingly 
 numberless islands covered with beech, birch, poplar and cedar; and, in the fall season, the 
 pleasantest time of year to make this e.xpedition, lit with lustre of the regalia which Lhe 
 woods assume, to wave farewell to departing summer. It is pleasant to sit on the steamer's 
 deck and watch her glide, with her boat duly in tow astern through these bright waters, 
 " from island unto island," each rising around us in turn, the fresh green of its cedars 
 nestling on the water and contrasting with the scarlet of the soft maple, the yellow of the 
 birch, the young oak's garnet -and the larch's gold. Though but little known in compari- 
 son with the Thousand Islands, the Narrows of the Upper Ottawa are, in the opinion of 
 most who have visited both, far the more beautiful. And the Narrows has the advantage 
 of being as yet unprofaned by the noise and impedimenta of vulgar tourists 
 
 At the end of the Narrows is I'^^rt William, till lately a Hudson's Bay Company 
 post ; the steamer stopping here, we land. The building formerly occupied by the 
 Company is now a store, supplying a large extent of farm country. As we stood watch- 
 ing the entrance of a very primitive road through the bush, and mentally wondering 
 what manner of horses or vehicles could adventure therein, the question was solved 
 by the appearance of a farmer's wagon on its way to the Fort William store, which is 
 also Post Ofifice and commercial centre to the region. The horses were as fine, large- 
 built and strong as one could wish to see; the driver quite at his ease in managing 
 them, and with ample leisure to pay attention to the rosy-cheeked, laughing-eyed lasses 
 who sat with him. One of these lasses will probably, at no long time hence, keep house 
 through the winter months, while that young man and that team are away in the shan- 
 ties, earning good pay for the dear ones at home. 
 
 P"rom this point, that part of the Ottawa called Deep River begins, where, pressing 
 against the base of the mountains on its northern side, the stream stretches on for twenty 
 miles — deep, dark and navigable. The bluff of this mountain range which we first 
 encounter is called the Oiseau Rock. The front is precipitous; a plumb-line could 
 be almost swung from the summit to the base, where, as the steamer passes quite close, 
 we see the dark openings of caves, said to have been used by the Indians as places 
 of sepulture, which have never been explored. The name "Oiseau Rock" is taken from 
 a legend, common to the folk-lore of every nation, of an eagle having carried off a 
 papoose from an encampment to its eyrie on the summit, whence it was rescued by 
 the mother. These cliffs should be seen by moonlight, which may easily be done by 
 any one inclined -to take boat on a fishing excursion ;rom Des Joachims. Then it is 
 that, gliding beneath the cliff which rises sheer above us with its gray lights and sable 
 shadows, we learn to know the giant precipice, where nothing that has not wings has 
 climbed. 
 
 The mountains, after leaving Oiseau Rock, are of a more convex shape, and are 
 
240 
 
 FRENCH CANADIAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
TUI: irPliR OTTAWA 
 
 24; 
 
 covLTcd witli woods. TIk^ pines ;iml tirs Ixhoihc iiior(,' fr('(|iu'iit. I )ark patches of iimljcr- 
 coIijurmI \c'i\liir(: formed 1)\' ihein alternate on the liillsides with the ,L;ayer arra)' with 
 which the forest-nymphs have \csled the trees as a farewell trihnte to sunmier. At 
 no time in llu; year can this scener\' look so lo\cly, and nowhere can the matchless 
 beauty of Canatlian autumn forests he seen so pcMiectly as where these hills are mirrored 
 in the ri\er. 
 
 At the heail of the 1 )eep River, and under the sluulow of tliese wooil-covered 
 mountains, is a wharf with a cluster of outbuiklinos, and on the sloi)e of a neat 
 
 ^\ 
 
 01Si:.\l' KOCK. 
 
 green-swarded ascent, a house, somethim^ like a Swiss chalet, with a doid)le \cranda 
 running all around it. Ihis is our destination — thi' llotel I )es Joachims. Here it 
 is well to rest awhile, to be IuIKhI to sleep b\' the roar of the rapids close by; 
 
248 
 
 FREiXar CAXADIAh' LIFE AND CHARACTRR 
 
 DES JOACHIMS LANDING. 
 
 to be waked by the sunshine lighting up the green, gold and scarlet of the Joachim 
 forest-hills. 
 
 As the Joachim rapids are impassable, we drive by stage over the portage to the 
 river-bank above the rapids, where a canoe may be hired to Mackay, a station on the 
 Pacific Railway. Though inferior in beauty to the Deep River scenery, the stream 
 here is over 300 feet wide. The aspect of river and banks is of the same character, 
 and the swift, silent canoe voyage has its charms. At Mackays the bank has a lower 
 level, and is covered with boulders great and small, of water-rounded gneiss. The name 
 Mackay is taken from a farm-house near by, the only habitation until the Pacific Railway 
 station was built. Here, we find the place positively crowded with lumbermen and 
 railway labourers. All day they swarm to and fro, gang after gang arriving by the 
 incoming trains. All night they sing, shout and dance. 
 
 The best way to see the Upper Ottawa scenery from this point is from the cars 
 of the Pacific Railway, which for some distance here run along the summit of a steep 
 hill sloping directly down to the river. The scenery is much the same as at Deep 
 River. We pass the Rocher Capitaine and the outlet of the Deu.v Rivieres, and early 
 in the afternoon are landed at the Pacific Railway sfytion at Mattawa. Nothing could 
 be more wildly desolate than the aspect of this village. In the shadow of silent hills 
 the Ottawa widers beside it, to receive the waters of the river which gives the place 
 its name. This was the goal of Champlain's explorations of the Upper Ottawa; by 
 yonder dark stream he turned his dauntless course to the westward lakes. The 
 village of Mattawa is the most primitive, perhaps, to be seen in Canada. The 
 
THE UPPER Ori'AW'A 249 
 
 people have no taxes, no politics, no schools ; all these blessings, no doubt, will be 
 theirs in time. 
 
 It is easy to get a large canoe anil go up the river to one of the beautiful lakes 
 that form part of it. These are of small width ami great depth of water. The banks 
 are of steep and dun-coloured granite. Here in these dense shades of impenetrable 
 verdure — here, where even the lumberman never comes — all is desolate as when Cham- 
 plain found it ; desolate as it was, before civilization commenced with the first savage 
 who invented a stone-hatchet ; as it has continued since the mysterious era when life 
 began, when the first fish shot through these dark waters, when the first wolf howled 
 for food within these forest solitudes. 
 
 Mattawa will always be a depot for the lumber trade, and probably, as the shanties 
 move farther on, may to some extent take the place of Pembroke, and a more distant 
 Ultima Thule, that of Mattawa. The streets are irregular, blocked with huge granite 
 or gneiss boulders, causes of stumbling and offence to man and beast. But there 
 are several merchants with good supply of wares, who certainly have no reason to 
 complain of hard times. 
 
 Mattawa is the nearest to civilization of the Hudson's Bay Company forts. We were 
 shown their stores, where are treasured a goodly stock of valuable furs a'ld skins, from 
 that of the silver fox, most rare and valuable of all, to those of che mink, lynx, 
 and muskrat. The supply of furs, we were informed by the Company's agent, is at 
 present very great. This is because of the thriftlessness of the present race of the 
 young Indians, who kill the animals required for breeding. He thought the fur-trade 
 was not likely to last above a century as a traffic on any considerable scale. The 
 Indians too. he thought, were not likely to last much lon<rer. In former times the 
 Hudson's Bay Company would not traffic with them for lifjuor ; but now all sorts of un- 
 principled traders bring the fire-water for which the Indian hunters are sure to keep 
 up the demand — till death enforces prohibition. 
 
 From its far-away sources in the chain of lakes and swamps which feed also the 
 Saguenay, the St. Maurice and the Gatineau, the Ottawa comes, bringing through ihe 
 deep waters of Lake Temiscamingue the spoils of great forests of j)ine, which for years 
 to come will keep up th(! supi)ly of those vast rafts of spars, logs and timber, which 
 have been meeting us all the way from Quebec. The Pacific Railway from Mattawa 
 will continue its construction westward by the old Trapper's route, past Lake Nipissinp^ 
 and north of the inland seas of Huron and Superior.