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DESBARATS 1S«J 167021 ^t [rf\'iPe, R . > Registered according to the Act of the Provincial Legislature, in the year one thousand eight hundred and sixty-four, by G. & G. E. Desbarats, ia. the Office of the Registrar of the Province of Canada. Quebec : G.dcQ. E, Desbarats, Printers and Publishers. THE CANADIANS OF OLD CHAPTER I. -c^O^ Ehue ! fugactt, Post/iunie. ..... Horace. LEAVING COLLEGE. This chapter must s»ervc as a preface, for I have no intention of composing a work secundum arteniy and still less of assuming the po&ition of a classic author. Those who know mc will doubtless feel somewhat surprised at seeing me take up the trade of authorship at seventy-six years of age, and I owe them some explanation for so doing. At my age, although somewhat tired of constantly reading with- out deriving any great advantage either to myself or others, I should hardly have dared pass the Rubicon, had not a trivial incident made me decide on doing so. A very witty friend of mine, whom I met last year in St. Louis street, here in this good city of Quebec, eagerly seizing my hand exclaimed, ■ I am fortunate in meeting with you, for I have already conversed with eleven persons this morning, and I declare to 1* V'A lilE CANADIANS OF OLD. you that they wore all regular non-entities without an idea in their iieacls !" And then he shook my arm nearly off. " Do you know," I said to him, " that you make me feel quite proud, for I perceive by your warmth of manner that I am an exception, the one you wore perhaps expecting to " " Ah yes, my dear friend," he broke in, without allowing me to finish my sentence, " that is the only witty thing that I have hoard this morning." And he crossed the street to speak to a client on his way to Court, who was doubtless a twelfth non-entity ! " Well," thought I to myself, " it seems to me that it cannot be a very difficult matter to bo witty if there is really so much wit in what I have just said. I must certainly be well stored with that commodity, and yet I had never even suspected it." Quite proud of my discovery, and repeating to my- self that 1 was a far wittier man than any of my friend's eleven non-entities, I hurried to the stationer's shop, and buying a ream of foolscap paper, set to work. I am writing for my own amusement, at the risk of wearying the reader who may have the patience to read this volume ; but as I am of a compassionate nature, I have one cxcelient piece of advice to give to the said reader, which is to throw aside this unlucky book without taking the trouble to criticise it. It would be giving it too much importance, and besides it would be a useless task for a bond fide critic, inas- much as, unlike the old archbishop of Grenada that Gil Bias speaks of as so touchy about his homilies, I am a very easy-going person, and instead of saying to the said critic, " I wish you all sorts of good for- tune and better taste," I should frankly admit that there were plenty of faults in my book, and that I was quite aware of the fact. As to the ill-natured critic, it would be sheer loss of time for him to attack me, as he would be unable to provoke me to any discussion. I warn him before- Mm LEAVING COLLEGE. S hand ihnt F regret being obliged lo deprive him of this j)leasant ainnsement, and to eompel iiim to pare hin elawH. 1 glory in my age and idienes.'<, likcthc Figaroofironie memory, and besides, have not enough amour-propre to be th(! least tenacious about my literary productions. All my ambition is to note down some episodes of the gO(Kl old times, some remembrances of a youth, now alas ! long passed away. Many of the anecdotes which I relate, will probably appear worthless and childish to many of my readers ; let them, however, throw the blame upon some of our most eminent literary men, who have begged me to omit nothing that might throw light on the manners and customs of the Canadians of old. " What may perhaps appear trivial in the eyes of strangers, cannot fail to be deeply interesting to true Canadians, particu- larly when chronicled by a septuagenarian, born only eight and twenty years alter the conquest of La Nou- velle France.''^ This book, then, shall be neither too foolish nor too witty. Too foolish ! why an author should always have some self-respect : too witty ! why then it would only be appreciated by very clever people ; and under constitutional government, candidates generally prefer quantity to quality. This book w^ill be perfectly Canadian in style ; it would be somewhat more diffi- cult for a septuagenarian to change that, than to change his old coat for one fashionable at the present day. I make known also that I must have elbow room, and must not be subjected to any of the prescribed rules (with w^hich I am well acquainted) in a work like the one I now offer to the public. Let then the purists, the professional authors, shocked at its many defects, call it a romance, memoir, chronicle, salmi- gondis, pot-pourri, anything they like, it makes no difference to me. My little preface finished, I begin this chapter in earnest by the following beautiful lines, as yet unpub- ..<-*o "k e THE CANADIANS OF OLD. lished, and doubtless much surprised to find them- selves in such bad company : — Pois'd like an eaglet on the promontory ^'old, The while her rocky feet in giant stream she laves ; Quebec may now her piory's symbol fair behold, Her ancient flag, which proud in dazzling splendor waves. See I where alod to Heav'n the young cathedral rears Its tall and shining spire, beside the castle strong:, Whilst borne upon the breeze the distant Beaupre hears, And joyous echoes back the evening Angelus song. From his canoe that sod the rippling river sways. The Iroquois beholdii Quebec with fiery glance, Dreaming and sorrowful, in silence doth he gaze Upon the true God's cross, and on the flag of France. Let those who are acquainted with our good city of Quebec transport themselves, either bodily or in the spirit, to the Upper Town market place, so as to judge of the changes that have taken place in this locality since the year of grace 1757, the date when this story commences. The cathedral was then the same as now with regard to the edifice, but minus the modern tower which seems as if seeking some charitable soul, either to raise it higher, or to cut off the head of its giant sister, who is so scornfully gazing on it from the height of her greatness. The Jesuit College, now metamorphosed into a barrack, appeared much the same as it does at pre- sent ; but what has become of the church which formerly stood in the spot now occcupied by the butcher's market ? Where is the grove of venerable trees, behind the church, which then adorned the court now bare and desolate, of the house consecrated to the education of the Canadian youth } The axe and time, alas ! have done their work of destruction. To the merry games, the witty sallies of the young students, to the grave step of the professors who walked there for relaxation from deep study, to the discourses on the highest philosophy, have succeeded the clang of arms, and the talk of the guard-room, too often free and senseless. A LEAVING COLLEGE. f Instead of the present market place, a small market house containing at the most seven or eight stalls, occupied a part of the ground lying between the cathedral and the college. Between this market- house and the college flowed a rivulet, which des- cending from Louis street, went down the middle of Fabrique street, and crossed Couillard street and the garden of the Hotel-Dieu on its way to the River St. Charles. Certainly our ancestors had very rural tastes. It was the end of April ; the rivulet had overflowed, and children were amusing themselves by breaking off" and throwing in icicles, which get- ting smaller and smaller, and surmounting many obstructions, finished by disappearing from sight, and losing themselves in the immense River St, Lawrence. A poet (who finds food for contemplation in every- thing), looking on dreamingly, with folded arms, and watching the course of the icicles, their stoppages, and their leaps over the obstacles they met with, might have compared them to ambitious men, who, after a troubled life, arrive at the end of their career, as light of pocket as of reputation, and finish by being swallowed up in the gulf of eternity. The houses which bordered the market place, were mostly of one story, unlike our modern edinces, which seem to approach as nearly as possible to heaven, for fear of another deluge. It was noon ; the Angelus was sounding from the cathedral belfry, and all the bells in the town were announcing the salutation borne by an angel to the mother of Christ, the beloved protectress of Canada. The "A«6t/an/s,"* whose carts surrounded the market- house, uncovered their heads and devoutly recited the Angelus. Every one being of the same faith, nobody laughed at this pious observance. There are many Christians in this 19th century who appear to be ashamed to perform any act of religious observance before others ; this is, at the least, proof either of a narrow mind or of cowardice. Mahometans * Habitants is the name of the Canadian farmers. ..^^ \ • THE CANADIANS OF OLD. are more courageous ; llioy pray «evon times a day everywhere, and in the presence of weak-minded cliristiaus. The students of the Jesuits' College, generally so noisy during recreation, came silently out of the church where they had been praying. Whence came this unwonted sadness ? It was because they were about to lose two beloved companions, two sincen^ friends of all without any exception. The younger of the two, and the nearer lo their own age, was the one who oftener shared their boyish games, and protecting the weak against tho strong, equitably decided their little dilK'rences. The gnat entrance to the college was opened, and two young men, dressed for travelling, appeared in the midst of their schoolfellows. At their fe6t lay two leather portmanteaus, about five feet long, and furnished with rings, chains, and padlocks, apparently strong enough to moor a vessel. The younger of the two travellers, slight and of small stature, might be about eighteen. His dark com- plexion, large black eyes, and restless movements, showed his French origin; it was Jules d'Haberville, the son of a seigneur, captain of a naval detachment in the colony.* The second traveller, some two or three years older than the other, was of a larger and stronger build. His fine blue eyes, chestnut hair, light and slightly florid complexion, a few slight freckles on his face and hands, and a somewhat prominent chin, betrayed a foreign origin : it was Archibald Cameron of Locheill, commonly called Archy Locheill, a young Highlander, who had been completing his studies at the Jesuits' College at Quebec. But how came he, a foreigner, in a French colony ? The sequel will show. The young men were both remarkably good-look- ing. Their dress was alike — a sort of great-coat with a hood (called a capot)^ scarlet cloth leggings ** These detachmenta served aUo by land in the colony. LEAVING COLLKGE. l)oun«l willi jfHM'n, blue knitUrd ^artrrn, a largo sash of bright ami varicgatrd colors, ornaiiirnted with bea(l>, moccasins or s^hocs of cariboo skin, plaited in the Indian manner, and the lojjs worked with porcu- pine quills ; and lastly, (faps of real beaver broujL^lit down over the ears, by means of a red silk iiandkcr- chief tied round the nv.rU. The youni^er one betrayed a feverish agitation, and kept looking down Uiiade street. " Voii arc then in a great hurry to leave us, Jules," said one of his friends, reproachfully. '' Ah no, Laronde," answered d'Hal)erville, " 1 assure you, no ; but since this painful parting must take place, I am in a hurry to have done with it ; it unnerves me ; besides it is but natural that I should be in haste to see my relations again." " That is but right," replied i^aronde, " and besides, you being a Canadian, we may live in hopes of seeing you again soon." " It is not so with you, Archy," said another. " I much fear we part from you forever, if you return to your country. Promise us to come back," sounded on all sides. During this conversation, Jules had darted liki; an arrow towards two menwhowS> Give rae, oh ! give me back the days When I — I too — was young, And felt, as they now leel, each coming hour New consciousness of power. The fields, the grove, the air was haunted. And all that age has disenchanted. Give me, oh ! give youth's passions unconfined, The rush of joy that lelt almost like pain. Goethe. archibald cameron of locheill jules d'haberville. Archibald Cameron of Locheill, the son of a High- land Chieftain and of a French lady, was but four years old when he had the misfortune of losing his mother. Brought up by his father, a true son of Nimrod, who, according to the beautiful Scripture expression, " was a mighty hunter before God,'' he, from ten years of age, followed him in his adventu- rous expeditions in pursuit of the roebuck and other wild animals, climbing the steepest mountains, often swimming across the icy torrents, and sleeping fre- quently on the damp ground with no other covering than his plaid, no other shelter than the vault of heaven The child, thus brought up like a Spartan, seemed to delight in this wild and roving life. Archy was but twelve years old in the year 1745, when 1 is father joined the standard of the young and unfortvtiate Prince, who came like a hero of ro- mance, to throw himself into the arms of his Scotch fellow countrymen, hoping, with their assistance, to regain the crown which he ought to have renounced ■MBMIMPMnH LOCHEILL AND D'HABERVILLE. 18 for pvr after the disastrous battle of Culloder\. In spite of the rashness of the entreprise, in spite of the numberless difficulties tliey met with in their une- qual struggle against the powerful army of England, none of these brave mountaineers failed him in his hour of need ; on the contrary, all responded to his appeal with the enthusiasm of noble, generous, and devoted men, whose hearts were touched by Charles Edward's confidence in their loyalty, and at the sight of the unfortunate Prince as a suppliant. At the beginning of this sanguinary struggle, cou- rage triumphed over numbers and discipline ; and the mountains echoed from afar, songs of triumph and victory. Enthusiasm was then at its height ; suc- cess no longer seemed doubtful. Alas ! it was a vain hope ; they had to yield, even after the most brilliant feats of arms. Archibald Cameron of Lo- cheill, the father, shared the fate of so many other brave soldiers who crimsoned the battle field of Cul- loden with their blood. One long groan of rage and despair was heard from the mountains and valleys of old Caledonia. Her children were forced to renounce for ever all hopes of obtaining that liberty for which they had desperately and bravely fought for so many cen- turies. It was the last sob of agony from a heroic nation which is obliged to succumb. Scotland, now a.a integral portion of one of the most powerful empireo in the world, has had no reason to regret her defeat. Her former enemies take pride in the works of her literary men, and her statesmen have been as renowned in the cabinet of their Sovereign as her warriors have been in fighting for their new country. Whilst their brothers of green Erin, the warm-hearted and generous Irish, still writhe under and gnaw their chains, they (the Scotch) peacefully enjoy prosperity. Why is there this diflference ? Ireland has certainly furnished more than her con- tingent of glory to proud Albion. The powerful voice of her orators has electrified the English Parlia- 14 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. ment and courts of justice ; her soldiers, the bravest of the brave, have conquered kingdoms, her poets and writers charm the leisure of the men of letters in Great Britain. No share of glory has been denied her. Why then does her death-cry still resound in the fields, the valleys, the mountains, and even in the land of exile? One would think that the soil of Erin, watered by so many tears would only produce wormwood, briars, and thorns ; and yet her meadows are always green and her fields bring forth abundant harvests. Why does this low muttering precursor of the storm bust forth from the hearts of the generous Irish? History replies to this question. An uncle of Archy's who had also followed the standard and the fortunes of the unhappy Prince, succeeded, after the disastrous battle of Culloden, in saving his head from the scaffold, and in spite of a thousand obstacles and dangers, contrived to take refuge in France, taking with him the young or- phan. The old gentleman, proscribed and rained, was with much difficulty providing for his own and his nephew's necessities, when a Jesuit, a maternal uncle of the young man's, relieved iiim of one part of the heavy burden. Archy having been received into the Jesuit's College at Quebec, was just leaving it after completing his studies, when the reader is introduced to him. Archibald Cameron of Locheill, precociously matured by the heavy hand of misfortune, did not know, on first entering college, what opinion to form of a roguish, wild boy, an endless lover of practical jokes, who seemed to be the torment of both masters and boys. It is true that this child often got more than he wanUid ; out of twenty canings or imposi- tions administered to the class by the teacher, at least nineteen were pocketed by Jules d'Haberville as his share. It must also be confessed that the big boys, ofven quite out of patience, gave him more than his share LOCilEILL AND D'UABERVILLE. 15 of cufis ; but one would have lliouglil he rather liked them than otherwise, to judge from his readi- ness to recommence his tricks. Without being spite- ful, he never forgave an injury, always revenging himself in some way or other. His sarcasms, keen darts which just wounded skin-deep, always struck home either to the masters themselves, or the bigger boys whom he could not reach in any other way. His maxim was never to allow that he was beaten, and for the sake of peace and quietness, they had at last to beg for peace. One would certainly think that this child would be universally detested ; but on the contraiy, every one was fond of him, and he was the pet oi the col- lege. It was because he had such a heart as rarely beats in man's breast. To say that he was generous even to prodigality, that he was always ready to de- fend the absent, to sacrifice himself that he might shield others, would hardly give so true an idea of his disposition, as the following anecdote. When he was about twelve years of age, a big boy, losing patience, gave him a good kick, without, however, having any intention of doing him harm. Jules, on principle, never told tales of his school-fellows to the masters, as he thought it ungentlemanly to do so ; he therefore only said to him, " You are too thick-headed, you fe- rocious animal, for mo to pay you out with sarcasms ; you would not understand them, but that hide of yours must be drilled through, and don't be alarmed, you shall lose nothing by waiting." Jules, after having rejected several means of re- venge which were tolerably ingenious, fixed upon that of shaving off the boy's eye-brows whilst he was asleep, — a punishment the more easily inflicted, from the fact that Dubuc slept so heavily as to be obliged, even of a morning, to be roughly shaken to awaken him. Besides it was attacking him at the vulnerable point, as he was a good-looking boy, and took pride in his appearance. Jules had then decided on this punishment, when 16 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. he heard Dubuc say to one of his friends who taxed him with being out of spirits : " I have good reason to be so, for I expect niy father to-morrow. In spite of his prohibition, I have run in debt at several stores, and with my tailor, hoping that my mother would come to Quebec and would get me out of trouble unknown to him. My father is stingy, quick-tempered, and violent, and on the impulse of the moment might strike me ; I do not know what to do for the best. I feel almost inclined to run away till the storm is over," " But why on earth," said Jules, who had over- heard this, *' did you not have recourse to me ?" " Well, I don't know," said Dubuc, shaking his head. " Do you think," said .Jules, " that for the sake of a kick or so, I would let a school-fellow be in trouble and at the mercy of his amiable father .-' You cer- tainly nearly broke my back, but that is an affair to be settled in the proper time and place. How much do you want .?" " Ah ! my dear Jules," replied Dubuc, " it would be abusing your generosity. It is a good large sum, that I am in need of, and I know that just at present you are not in funds, for you emptied your purse to relieve that poor widow whose husband met with an accident, and was killed." " Did you ever hear such a fellow !" answered Jules, " as if one could not always find money to save one's friend from a cross, stingy father, who might break his neck for him ! How much do you want .''" " Fifty francs !" " You shall have them this evening," said the child. Jules, the only son of a rich family, spoilt by every body, had always his pockets full of money ; father, mother, uncles, aunts, and god-parents, even whilst proclaiming aloud the maxim, " that it is very dan- gerous to ]et children have too much money at their disposal,'' vied with one another in giving it to him •mr^.-w^r^.'^f^-'vn- * LOCHEILL AND DIIABERVILLE. 17 unknown to each othor. Nevertheless Dubuc had said what was true : at that moment his purse was empty. Besides, fifty francs was a good round sum. The French King only paid his Indian allies 60 francs for each English scalp ; the English monarch, richer or more generous, gave 100 for a French one. Jules had too much delicacy to apply to his uncles and aunts, the only relations he had in Quebec. His first idea was to borrow fifty francs on his gold watch, which was worth twenty-five pounds. But on recon- sidering the matter he thought of an old woman, for- merly a servant in his family, to whom his father had given a mariage portion, and to whom he hc.d after- wards advanced a small sum to enable her to com- mence a, little business, which had since prospered in her hands. She was well oft", and a widow without children. There were many difliculties in the way ; the old lady w'as stingy and cross, and besides she and Jules had not parted on the best of terms at his last visit to her ; indeed she had chased him into the street with her broomstick. However the little rogue was only guilty of a peccadillo ; he Lad made her fa- vorite spaniel take a pinch of snuflf, and whilst the old lady was flying to the rescue of her dog, he had emptied the rest of her snufF into a dandelion salad which she had been carefully preparing for her sup- per, and called out to her, " See, mammy, here is the seasoning." No matter ; Jules thought it urgent to make peace with the old lady, and so now for the preliminaries. He took her round the neck on en- tering, notwithstanding the old lady's efforts to extri- cate herself from demonstrations that were far too tender, after the insults he had offered her. " Come Madeline," exclaimed he, " * fuluron don- daine,' as the old song says, I have come to forgive you your offences, as you ought to forgive all who have offended you. Every one says you are stingy and revengeful, but that is nothing to me. You will 2 18 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. have to atono for it by broiling in the next world, but I wash my hands of all that." Madeline did not know whether to langh or be vexed at this beautiful preamble ; but as she had a weakness for the child, in spite of his tricks, she took the wisest course and began to laugh. " Now we are in a good humor again," pursued Jules, " I want to have a serious conversation with you. I have been plaving the fool you see, and have got into debt ; I am afraid of being blamed by my father, and still more so of annoying him. I want fifty francs to hush up this business, can you lend them to me .^" " But my gracious Mons. d'Haberville," said the old woman, " if that was all I had in the world, I would give it with my whole heart to save your good father the slightest annoyance, I am under so many obligations to your family." " Oh nonsense !" said Jules, " I will have nothing to say to you if you begin to talk of that; but listen, my good Madeline, as I may break my neck just at the moment it is least or most to be expected, whilst climbing on the college roof and the various spires in Quebec city, I am going to give you a little word in writing, by way of acknowledgment ; however, I hope to discharge my debt " to you in a week's time, at the latest." Madeline became downright angry, refused the ac- knowledgment, and counted him out the fifty francs. Jules nearly strangled her whilst embracing her, and jumping out of the window started ofi" towards the college. At the evening hour of recreation Dubuc was freed from all uneasiness as regarded his amiable father. " But remember," said d'Haberville, *' I still owe you one for that trick." " Stop, my dear friend," said Dubuc, quite over- come, " pay me out at once ; break my head or my back with the poker if you will, but put an end to the matter ; it would be too painful to me to think you LOCHEILL AND D'HABERVILLE. 19 owed me a grudge, after the service you have just rendered me." " There you are again," answered the child, " the idea of my bearing a grudge against any fellow, just because I owe him one of my little rewards ! Is that your way? Come, give me your hand and think no more of the mat*'>r. At all events you can boast of being the only one who ever scratched me without my drawing blood in return." So saying, he sprang on his shoulders like a monkey, pulled his hair a little, just as a relief to his conscience, and ran to rejoin the merry band who were waiting for him. Archibald Locheill, matured by severe trials, and starting with a colder and more reserved disposition than is usual with children of his age, did not quite know on first entering college whether to laugh at or resent the tricks of the little imp, who seemed to have selected him as his butt, and to give him no peace. He did not know that this was Jules' manner of showing his affection for those he liked best. At last Archy, quite out of patience, said one day to him, *' You really are enough to provoke a saint ; I am quite in despair about you." " The remedy for your woes is in your own hands, however," said Jules ; "just give me a good thrashing and I will leava you alone. It would be easy for you, who are as strong as Hercules." In fact Locheill, accustomed from childhood 1o the boisterous games of his Highland countrymen, was at fourteen remarkably strong for his age. " Do you think me cowardly enough to strike a boy younger and smaller than myself?" " Why ! you are like me then," said Jules, " never even a fillip to a little fellow, but a good wrestle with those of my own age, or even older, and then shake hands and think no more about the matter. You know that fellow Chavigny," continued Jules, " he is older than I am, but he is so weak and sickly that I have never had the heart to strike him, although he 2* 10 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. played me one of ihoso Iricks that ono can hardly for- give, if one is not a second St. Francis de Sales. Only imagine his running up to nic once quite out of breath, saying. — " I have just filched an egg from that greedy fel- low Letourneau, who iiad stolen it in the large dining room. Quick ! hide it, for he is after me. *' And where shall I hide it.!* said I to him. " ' In your hat,' he answered, ' he'll never think of looking there for it.' " I was fool enough to believe him ; I ought to have distrusted him, bocau.se he entreated me so. Letourneau came running up, and without warning, hit me a blow on the head. The devil of an egg nearly blinded mc, and I assure you there was a per- fume by no means like that of the rose : it was an addled cgg^ taken from the nest of a hen who must have left it at least a month. I escaped with the spoiling of my hat, waistcoat and other clothes.* Well, my first feeling of anger over, 1 ended by laughing at it ; and if I have a little spite against him, it is be- cause he forestalled me with the trick, wiiich I should have enjoyed playing off on Derome, on account of his powdered head. As for Letourneau, he being far loo much of a fool to have invented the trick, I only said to him, ' Blessed are the poor in spirit,' and he went away quite proud of the compliment, and well pleased to he quit of me at so little cost." " Now, my dear Archy," continued Jules, " let us come to an agreement ; I am a merciful poten- tate, and my terms shall be liberal. I undertake on my honor as a gentleman to retrench one-third of the jokes and tricks tliat you have the bad (aste not to appreciate. Come, you ought to be satisfied, if you are not excessively unreasonable ! For you see, Archy, I like you ; to no one but yourself would I grant such advantageous terms." * Alas! of all those who made the halls, corridors and courts of the Que- bec Seminary resound with 'heir lau|Sfhler, when a similar trick was played to the author on his first entrance into that excellent house of education> not one is still in the land of the liviuij. LOCHEILI, AND D'HABERVILLE. 21 Lochoill could not help laughing, whilst ho gave the incorrigible young rascal a shaking. It was after this conversation that the two boys began their frienship ; Archy, at first, with true Scotch cautiousness, but Jules with all the warmth of his French temperament. A short time afterwards, about a month before the holidays, which then began the twelfth of August, Jules, taking his friend's arm, said to him : " Come into my room ; I have a letter from father which concerns you-" " Concerns mc !" said the other, much surprised. " What are you astonished at ?" replied d'Haber- vllle ; " do you think you are not a sufficiently important personage for any one to trouble their heads about ? All over New France, every one speaks of the handsome Scotchman. It is said that the mothers fearing you may quickly set their daughters' hearts on fire, are intending to present a petition to the superior of the College, in order that you may only go out in the streets when covered with a veil, like the Eastern women." " A truce to your nonsense, and let me go on reading." " But I am quite in earnest," said Jules. And dragging away his friend, he read him a passage from his father Capt. d'Habeiville's letter, which ran thus : " What you write to me about your young friend Mons. Locheill, interests mc exceedingly. It is with the greatest pleasure that I gvant your request. Present my compliments to him and beg him to come and pass with us, not only his approaching holidays, but all his others, during his stay at college. If this unceremonious invitation is not sufficient from a man of my age, I will write more formally to him. His father lies low on a nobly-contested field of battle ; honor to the grave of a brave soldier. All soldiers are brothers ; their children should be so also. Let him come under my roof, and we will receive him with open arms, as one of our own family." I THE CANADIANS OF OLD. Arcliy was so aflocted by this pressing invitation, that he was some time without answering. " Well, you proud Seotchman," continued his friend, " will you do us the honor of accepting ? Or, must my father send his major-domo Jose Dube, as ambassador, with a bag[)ipe across his shoulder, — as I believe is the custom among the chiefs of the mountain clans, — and bearing an epistle in due form ?" " As, happily for me, I am no longt^r among the Scotch mountains," said Archy, laughing, " we may dispense with that formality. I will immediately write to Capt. d'llaberville, thanking him for his invitation, which is so noble, so handsome, so gratify- ing to me, an orphan and in a strange land." *' Then let us talk sensibly," said Jules, " were it only for the novelty of the thing as regards myself. You think me very frivolous, very foolish, and very hare-brained. I confess I am somewhat of all three ; however, that does not prevent ray sometimes reflect- ing more deeply than you give me credit for. For a long time I have been seeking a friend, a real friend, a friend with a noble and generous heart ! I have watched you narrowly ; you possess all these qualities. Now, Archy Locheill, will you be that friend .!"" *' Certainly, my dear Ji les, for I have always felt myself attracted to you." " Then," exclaimed Juljs, pressing his hand with much emotion, " it is in life and until death with us two, Locheill !" Thus, between a child of twelve and another of fourteen, was sealed a friendship which was after- wards exposed to severe trials. " Here is a letter from my mother," said Jules, *' in which there is a word for you." " I hope your friend, Mons. de Locheill, will do us the pleasure of accepting your father's invitation. We are all looking forward to the pleasure of making his acquaintance. His room is ready, next to yours. In the box that Jos6 will give you there is a little package addressed to him, which he would pain me I.OCIIEII.I, AN'I) D'lIAnF.RVri.Lr.. t much by rerusint,'. Whilst doing it up, I was tliinking of the mother he han lost !" The box oonlaincd a similar provision for eacii child, of cakes, sweotnuMits, pres(;rves, and other eatables. The friendship between the two boys increased daily. The new friends became inseparable, and wore commonly called at colh^ge, Damon and Pythias, Orestes and Pylades, Nysus and Euryale, they ended by calling themselves brothers. All the time that Locheill was at college he passed his holidays in the country, at the d'Habervilles, who seemed to make no difterence between the two boys, except that they showed more marked atlcniiion to the young Scotch- man, who had now become one of the family ; it was therefore quite natural that Archy before leaving for England, should accompany Jules in the farewell visit he was to pay his relations. The friendship of the young men was afterwards to be put to cruel tests, when that code of honor, which civilization substituted for the more truthful impulses of nature, forced on them the inexorable duties of men who are fighting under hostile banners. But what avails the dark future. For the ten years that their studies lasted, did they not enjoy that friendship of early manhood, which, like the love of woman, has its passing griefs, its bitter jealousies, its delirious joys, 'ts quarrels and delicious reconciliations? 24 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. CHAPTER III. -=$©$=>- Angels and ministers of grace, defend us ! Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damned, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or Wast from hell ? — HAMtET. Ecoute comme les bois orient. Les liiboux fiiient epou- vantls. . . » . .Entends-tu ces voix dans les hauteurs, dans le lointain, ou pres de nous 1 Eh ! oui ! la montagse retentit, dans toute $a longueur, d'un furieux chant magique. — Favst. Lest bogles catch him unawares ; Where ghaists and howlets nightly cry. When out the hellish legion sallied. — Bcrns. A NIGHT AVITH THE GOBLINS. As soon as the young travellers had arrived at Pointe Levis, after crossing the St. Lawrence, opposite the city of Quebec, Jose hastened to harness a handsome and powerful horse to a sleigh without runners, the only means of transport at that time of year, when there was as much bare ground as snow and ice, and when numerous rivulets had overflown their banks, thus intercepting the road by which our travellers had to pass. Whenever they met with one of these obstacles, Jose took the horse out, and all three mounting it, they soon got across. Jules, who held on to Jose, could not refrain from occasionally making vigorous efforts to unseat him, at the risk of sharing with him the exquisite luxury of a cold bath ; however, it was labor in vain, he might as well have tried to throw Cape Tourmente into the St. Lawrence. Jose, who, though only middle-sized, was as sirong as an elephant, A NIGHT WITH THE GOBLINS. 25 laughed to himself and pretended not to notice it. When clear of the impediment, Jose returned alone for the sleigh, and putting the horse to again, mounted it with the baggage in front of him, for fear of its getting wet, and soon ovt^rtook his travelling com- panions who had not slackened their pace for a moment. Thanks to Jules, conversation did not flag during the journey. Archy was perpetually laughing at his own expense, but to this he had long been accustomed. *' Let us make haste," said d'Haberville, " we have twelve leagues to travel from here to St. Thomas.* My uncle de Beaumont sups at seven o'clock, and if we arrive there too late, we run the risk of making but a poor meal, the best will have been gobbled up ; you know the proverb, ' tarde venientibus ossa.' " " Scotch hospitality is proverbial," replied Archy, " with us there is the same welcome by night as by day. It is the cook's business. " " Credo^^^ answered Jules ; *' I believe it as firmly as if I had seen it with my own eyes ; otherwise, you see, your man-cooks in petticoats would be wanting in skillfulness and good will. Scotch cooking is delightfully primitive ! With a few handfuls of oat- meal mixed in the icy water of a brook in winter- time — for in your country there is neither coal nor wood — one can, at small cost, and without needing any great culinary skill, make an excellent ragout, and feast all comers by day and by night. It is true that when some noble personage claims your hospi- tality — and this frequently happens, as every Scotch- man has a load of armorial bearings, enough to break down a camel, — it is true, I say, that then you add to the usual dish a sheep's head, feet, and nice juicy tail dressed with salt ; the rest of the animal is wanting in Scotland." Lochiell only looked over his shoulders at Jules, say- ing: Quis taiia fajidoMyrmidonum, Dolopumve, , * Now the village of Montmagny. ^^}MbsmKfmf*BSfie'Aimiwmmni*MK«M4Rfl|«WMIMM««l4 i 30 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. ther, that at my honored fatlier's seigniory, you will see a sorceress of the highest order. My dear fellow, the great difference is that in Scotland you burn tiiem, but here we treat them with all the respect due to their high social position. Now just aibk Jose, if I am telling you lies." Jose was not backward in confirming his stateme*^t; the witch of Beaumont and that of St. Jean-Port-Joli, being in his eyes bond fide sorceres.ses. " But," said Jules, " to speak seriously, since you insist on making a reasonable creature of me, nolens volens (as my old master of the sixth form used to say when he administered a decoction of ferules to me) I really believe what has given rise to this superstition is that the habitants of the north and the south shores of the river seeing tlie people on the island setting out on their fishing excursions with torches during the dark nights, generally mistook tliese lights for an ignis fatuus^ (6) now you must know that our country Canadians believe ignes fatui to be caused by sorcer- ers, or evil sprits who seek to attract poor people to dangerous places in order that they may be lost ; thus according to their tradition, you can hear the spirits laugh when the unhappy traveller thus misled is engulfed in the morass. What must have given rise to this belief is that these gases are always escaping in low, swampy lands ; and from that to sorcerers there is but one step."* " Impossible ! " said Archy. " You break down in your logic, as our mas;ter of philosophy often used tn tell you. You mast see that the habitants on the north and south sliores opposite to the Island of Or- leans, also go out fishing with torches, and then the inhabitants of the island would have bestowed upon them likewise the name of sorcerers. That will not do. " * This discussion on the sorcerers of the Island of Orleans was written before Dr. Larue had published his charming legends, <'Les Soirees Cat. - diennes." The author was inclined like him to the solution that Jules offered, and notwithstanding Locheill's arguments to the contrary, when, alas ! our friend Jose comes to confound the disciple ot Cujas and the son of Esculapius. A NIGHT WITH THE GOBLINS. 31 Whilst Jules was shaking his head, without answer- ing, Jose commenced speaking. " If you would allow me, young gentlemen, I could easily put you right by telling you what hap- pened to my defunct father, who is dead." " Oh ! do tell us, Jose ; do tell us what happened to your defunct father who is dead," exclaimed Jules, laying particular stress on the last three words. " Oh, my good Jose," said Lochiell, " I beg of you to do us the pleasure. " " Well, it is a little hard for me," said Jose, " for you see I have not the fine accent nor the fine organ (voice) of the dear defunct. Of an evening when he used to tell us his tribulations, we used to shake all over, as if we had the ague, it was a pleasure to see us ; but, however, I will do my best to satisfy you." " Well, one day my defunct father who is dead, had left town a little latish to return home ; he had even stopped at Pointe-Levis a little while to amuse himself — in fact to be pretty jolly ■^n\h his friends ; the good man liked a drop of comfort, and that was why, when he travelled, he always carried a small bottle of brandy in his ;seal-skin bag ; he used to say it was old men's milk." " Lac duke,'''' said Lochiell, drily. " With all due respect, Master Archy," replied Jose, a little put out, " it was not soft (douce) water ; nor lake water, but good wholesome brandy, that my defunct father carried in the bag." " Upon my word, that is excellent !" exclaimed Jules. " You were paid out there for your eternal latin quotations." " Forgive me, Jose," said Lochiell, quite seriously ; " I had no intention of treating the memory of your defunct father with disrespect." " You are excused," said Jose, his wrath suddenly appeased. " It happened that when my father wanted to set out, it was quite dark. His friends did all they could to keep him all night, telling him he would have to pass alone before the iron cage where La n-stfuimMfctii 8S THE CANADIANS OP OLD. Corriveau underwent her punishment for having killed her husband. You have seen her yourselves, .gentle- men, when we left Pointe- Levis at one o'clock ; the wicked thing was then quiet enough in her cage, with her skull without eyes ; but don't trust lier, she is sly enough, and if she can't see by day, she knows well enough how to find her way about at night and torment people. Well, my defunct father, who was as brave as his Captain's sword, told them he cared nothing about it and that ho owed nothing to La Corriveau, and a heap of o1 her things which I have forgotten. He touched his horse with the whip and away went the swift beast like the wind. " When he came near the skeleton, lie thought he heard a noise like some one groaning ; but as a strong southwester was blowing, lie thought it must be the wind among the bones of the corpse. Still it bothered him, and he took a good drop to cheer himself up. All things considered, he said to himself, Christians should help one another : perhaps the poor creature (woman) wants some prayers. So he took off his cap and devoutly said a de prefundi in her behalf, thinking if it did not do her any good, it could not do her any harm, and besides, any way, he himself would be the better of it. " Then he went on quite fast, but this did not prevent his hearing behind him ' tic, tac ; tic, tac ;' like a piece of iron striking on stones. He therefore got out, but found everything in its place. He thought it was the tire of his wheel, or some of the iron of his cabriolet which had become unnailed. He whipped his horse to make up for lost time, but he soon again heard tlie * tic, tac ; tic, tac,' on the stones ; still, as he was a brave man, he did not pay much attention to it. " Arrived at the top of St. Michael's hill, which we passed just now, he felt very sleepy. After all, said my defunct father to himself, a man is not a dog ! we will take a nap, Doth my horse and me will be the better for it. So he unharnessed his horse, and tying A NIGHT WITH THE OOBLUfS. 33 its forelegs with the reins, said to it : there, pet, there is good grass, and you can hear the brook flow, good night. "-As my defunct father was going to get into his cabriolet to shelter himself from tlie dew, he took a notion to find out the hour, so he looked at the three kings to the south, and the wain to the north, and concluded it must be midnight, [t is the hour wiien all honest people should be in bed. " All at once, it appeared to himtliatthe Isle of Or- leans was all on fire. He jumped over the ditch and climbing on a fence, looked and looked with all his eyes. At last he saw that the flames were running along the shore, as if all the feux-follets in Canada, the cursed goblins, had come there by appointment to hold their Sabbath. By dint of looking steadily, his sight which had been coafused, became quite clear, and he saw a strange sight. There were a number of things shaped like men, but of some extraordinary species, for they had heads as big as a half-bushel measure, dresscdup in sugar-loaf caps ayardlong; then they had arms, legs, feet, and hands armed with claws, but no body worth speaking of • in fad, their stride was up to their ears. They had hardly any flesh, just all bones like skeletons. All these handsome fellows had their upper lip cloven like a hare's, and there stuck out a rhinosferos tooth a good foot long, like what we see, Mr. Archy, in your book of supernatural history. Their nose was hardly worth speaking of ; it was neither more nor less than a long, pig-like snout, which they worked round and round a1 their will, sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left of the big tooth. I suppose it was to whet it. I was nearly forgetting a long tail, twice as long as a cow's, which hung down their back, and I think they used it to whisk off* the mosquitos. The funniest thing was that they had but three eyes between every two phantoms. Those who had only one eye in the middle of their forehead, like the Cyroclops (Cyclops) which your uncle the chevalier, M. 3 t4 THE CANADIANS OK OLD. Jules, who is a learned man, read about lo us in a big book all latin, like a priest's breviary, which he called his Vigil (Virgil) ; well, those who had but one eye, held tight on to two acolytes, who, the cursed things, had all their eyes. From all these eyes there came out flames of fire which lighted the Isle of Orleans like day. These last seemed to have great conside- ration for their neighbors, who were, as one might say, one-eyed ; they saluted them by approaching them and flourishing their arms and legs about like Christians dancing the minuet. The eyes of my defunct father were starting out of his head. It was much worst when they liegan to skip and dance about, without, however, moving from their places, and to sing in a voice as gruft as that of a choking ox, the following song : — Come, be gay, gossip goblin ! Come, be gay, my neighbor dear. Come, be say ! gossip pokcnose— Gossip, little idiot, foolish frog. Of those Christians, of those Christians. We will make a glorious feast. * Oh, the miserable carnivals' (cannibals), said my de- funct father, ' only see : an honest fellow cannot be a moment sure of his own property. Not content with stealing my very best song, which I always keep for the last at weddings and junketings, see how they have altered it ! it can hardly be recognized. It is on Christians instead of good wine that they want to feast, the wretches ! ' And then after that, the bogies went on with their infernal song, and looking straight at my defunct father and pointing at him with their great rhinoferoce teeth. Ah ! come hither gossip FranA<,:j<,.-faU-- -y yj^jM] LA CORRIVEAU. w CHAPTER IV. -c$0^>- SoANAiEi.LE. Seigneur commandeur, tnon maitre Don Juan, vous demande ai voug voulez lui faire I'honneur de ventr souperavec lui. Li MfiME. — La statue m'a fait signe. Le Festin de Pierre. What ! the ghosts are growing ruder, How they beard me To night— Why, this is Goblin flail. Spirits and spectres all in all. Facstis. LA CORRIVEAU. Jose, having taken the bridle from tlie horse, and given him what he called a mouthful of hay, made haste to open a box which, with his usual busy ingenuity, he had fastened on the sleigh so as to serve at need, as either a seat or a larder. He drew out a table-cloth in which were wrapped a couple of chickens, a tongue, some ham, a litle flask of brandy, and a good bottle of wine. He was withdrawing to a distance when Jules said to him : " Come and eat with us, my good man." " Yes, yes," said Archy, "come and sit down near me." "Oh! gentlemen, I know too well the respect I owe you." " Come, no ceremony," said Jules ; " we are bivouacking, all three being soldiers or very nearly so. Will you come, you obstinate animal." " It is with your permission, gentlemen, and to obey you, my superior officers, that I do so." The two young men seated themselves on the box. twimiiHwunmiiimiii 88 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. which also served as table ; Jose seated himself very comfortably on a heap of hay that was still remaining, and all three began to eat and drink with good appetite. Archy, who was naturally abstemious, had soon finished his collation. Having nothing better to do, he began to philosophize ; Locheill, on the days he felt gay, liked to advance paradoxes, for the pleasure of provoking discussion. " Do you know what interested me most in our friend's legend .?" " No," said Jules, attacking another leg of a chicken, "and I shan't nmchcare for the next quarter of an hour ; a hungry stomach has no ears." " No matter," replied Archy, " it was these devils, imps, goblins, whatever you like to call them, who had only one eye. I would like that fashion to increase among human beings, there would be fewer hypocrites, fewer rogues, and consequently fewer dupes. It i« certainly consoling to find that virtue is honored even among goblins ! Did you notice the high consideration in which the Cyclops were held by the other bogles ? With what respect they saluted them befon^ approaching them ?" " Oh yes !" said Jules, " but what does that prove ?'* "That proves," replied Locheill, "that these Cyclops deserve the consideration they meet with, they are the very cream of the goblins. In the first place, they are not hypocrites." " StujfF," said Jules, " I am beginning to fear for your brain " " I am not such a fool as you think," replied Archy. " Here is the proof of it. Look at a hypocrite with some one he wants to take in ; he has always one eye half shut on himself, whilst his other is wide open noticing the effect which his discourse produces on his interlocutor. If he had but one eye, he would lose this immense advantage, and be obliged to give up playing the hypocrite which he finds so profitable. There would be one bad man less. Probably my LA CORRIVEAU. 8» goblin Cyclops has many other vices, but he is certainly exempt from that of hypocrisy ; hence arises the respect which is felt for him by a class of beings sullied with all the vices that are attributed to them." " Your health ! Scotch philosopher," said Jules, swallowing a glass of wine : '' hang me if I understand one word of your arguments. " " Nevertheless, it is as clear as day," answered Archy. " It must be that those savory, heavy, indigestible aliments with which you clog your stomach, make your brain dull ! If you only ate oatmeal, like our mountaineers, you would have clearer ideas and a more fertile imagination. " " It appears that that oatmeal sticks in your throat, my dear fellow," said Jules ; '• however, it is easy enough to digest, even without the help of spiv^-is." " Another example ;" said Archy, " a knave who wishes to dupe an honest man in any transaction whatever, has always one eye winking or half-shut, whilst the other is noticing how much ground he is gaining or losing in the bargain, the one is the eye which thinks, the other the eye whic'.i makes obser- vations. This is a great advantage for the knave, as his antagonist, on the contrary, only seeing the one clear, limpid, honest eye of his interlocutor, cannot possibly guess what is passing under the winking eye which is planning and calculating, whilst its neighbor is as unmoved and impenetrable as destiny." '' Let us now consider the reverse of the medal," continued Archy ; " let us suppose the same knave under the same circumstances, but only one-eyed. The honest man looking at him always full in the face, would read his most secret tjioughts in his eye, for my one-eyed friend, always distrustful, would be obliged to keep it always open." " Partly," said Jules, with fits of laughter, " to prevent breaking his neck." " Granted," said Lochoill, " but still more to read the mind of his dupe. Besides he would be obliged to throw an expression of candor and openness into *^'- 'K^-Jf ,>C»»**'**N 40 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. his eye in order to avert suspicion, and this would absorb part of his facuhies. Now as fery few men can follow two difTerent trains of thought at once, without the help of both eyes, our knave would find he lost half his advantage. He would therefore renounce his hateful trade and we should see one more honest man gained to society." " My poor Archy," said Jules, " I see wc have changed characters, that I am the demure Scotclmian which I have so courteously proclaimed you to be, and that you are the hare-brained Frenchman, as you have so often had the irreverence to call me. For do you not see, that nothing would prevent the one-eyed race of men which, like another Prometheus, yon ^\ ish to substitute for our present race, who will be truly grateful to you," continued Jules, laughing heartily. " Nothing, I say, will prevent them from sometimes winking, since it is an infallible receipt for making dupes, and from sometimes keeping their eye open, to make observations." " Oh Frenchmen ! light-minded Frenchmen — blind Frenchmen ! It is no wonder that in politics the English make game of you behind your back !" " It seems to me," answered Jules, *' that the Scotch must hnow something about English policy." Archy's contenance at once assumed a sad expres- sion, and a pallid hue spread itself over his noble features ; is was a sensitive chord that his friend had touched on. Jules soon perceived it and said : " Forgive me if I have caused you pain ; I know that this subject calls up painful remembrances to you. I spoke without thinking, as I always do. One often, without wishing it, wounds those one loves best by some repartee one thinks witty. But come, old fellow, go on talking nonsense, it will be more amusing for both of us." (( The cloud has passed away," said Locheill, an effort to repress his feelings, " and I resume my argument. You must see that my rascal could not shut his eye for a single moment without making LA CORRIVEAU. 41 running the risk of letting his prey escape. Do you remember that pretty squirrel which we saved last year from the enormous adder which was curled up at the foot of the maple tree in your father's park, at St. Jean-Port- Jo! i ? How constantly she kept her fiery eyes fixed on the poor little animal in order to fascinate it. How the nimble little creature hopped from branch to branch, uttering a plaintive cry, without being able to turn her eyes away from those of the horrible reptile for a minute ! Had the adder ceased gazing, the squirrel would have been saved. Do you remember how pleased the poor creature was at the death of its terrible enemy ? Well, let my rascal shut his eye, and his prey would escape him." " Do you know," said Jules, " that you are a terrible logician, and bid fair to eclipse some day, even if that day has not already come, such twaddlers as Socrates, Zenon, Montaigne, and other logicians of the same stamp.' The only fear is that the logic may carry the logician up to the moon." " You think you may laugh ! " said Archy. " Well ! let only one pedant., with his pen behind his ear, take the trouble of seriously refuting my theory, and you will see a hundred scribblers rush to the rescue, who will take part for and against, till oceans of ink flow. Oceans of blood have often flowed on account of arguments about as sensible as mine, and that is how many a great man's reputation has been made !" " In the meantime," answered Jules " your theory may serve as a pendant to the tale that Sancho related to put Don Quixote to sleep. As for me, I very much prefer our friend Jose's legend." " You shew your good taste ! " answered the latter, who had taken a nap during the scientific discussion. " Let us hear it," said Archy. " Conticu4re omnes, intentique ora tenebant." " ConticuSre ! incorrigible pedant ! " exclaimed d'Haberville. " It is not the conte (tale) of a cure " (curate) ans- w i ms«m \ tmnm\mm 42 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. " but it is as pulpit, for true as when he my defunct father wered Jose quickly, speaks to us from the never told lies." " We believe you, my dear Jose," said Locheill, but please go on with your charming story." " Well, then," said Jose, " brave as my defunct father was, he still could not help feeling so decidedly frightened, that the perspiration trickled from the end of his nose, in a stream as thick as an oat-straw. There he was, the poor dear man, his eyes starting out of his head, and not daring to budge an inch. He fancied, indeed, that he heard behind him the same tic, tac ; tic, tac ; which he had before heard several times on tiie road, but he had too much going on before him, to be able to trouble himself about what was passing behind him. All at once just when he least expected it, he felt two great hands as lean as a bear's paws, laying hold of his shoulders. He turned round quite scared, and found himself face to face with La Corriveau, who was scrambling up on to him (a). She had slipped her hands through the bars of her iron cage, and was trying to climb on to his back, but the cage being heavy, at each spring that she took, she fell back to the ground under a clanging sound, but still without letting go of my poor defunct father's shoulder, who bent under the burden. If he had not held tight on to the fence with both his hands, he would have been crushed with the weight. My poor defunct father was so struck with horror, that you might have heard the perspiration drop from his face on to the fence like duckshot ! " ' My dear Francois,' said La Corriveau, ' do me the pleasure of conducting me to dance with my friends on the Isle of Orleans.' ' Ah, you limb of the old boy,' exclaimed my father — this was the only oath the saintly man ever made use of, and that only on great occasions." " Oh the devil ! " said Jules, " it seems to me the occasion was pretty favorable ! As for me, I should have sworn like a Pagan." LA CORRIVEAU. 4» " And I," said Arcliy, " like an Englishman." " I thought I had expressed myself as strongly as possible," replied d'Haberville. "You are wrong there, my dear Jules, I must acknowledge that the Pagans acquitted themselves tolerably well ; but oh ! the English ! the English ! Le Roux, who, after leaving College, read all the bad books he came across, told us, you may remember, that that blackguard Voltaire, as my Jesuit uncle used to call him, had written in a work which treats of events that happened in France, during the reign of Charles the Seventh when that Prince drove out the island-masters from the greater part of his kingdom ; Le Roux told us that Voltaire said ; " Every Englishman swears," Well, these events happened in 1445, there have elapsed, let us say, three hundred years since that memorable epoch, and just think for yourself what formidable oaths, a nation of so morose a disposition, must have invented in the course of three centuries." " I knock under," said Jules, " but do go on Jos6. " " * You limb of the old boy,' said my defunct father; ' is it by way of thanking me for my deprefundi and other good prayers that you want me to take you across to the witches' sabbath ? I was thinking you must be having at least three or four thousand years of purgatory for your pranks. You had only killed two husbands ; that was a trifle ! so that it pained me to think of it, and I who have always a tender heart for the creature^ (woman) said to myself ; I must give her a helping hand. And all the thanks I get is, that you want to jump on my shoulders, and drag me to hell like a heretic." " * My dear Francois,' said La Corriveau, 'do please take me to dance with my dear friends,' and she knocked her head against my defunct father's, till his skull rattled like a bladder full of flint-stones.' " * That is a fine idea of yours,' said my defunct father, * you limb of Judas Iscariot, that I am going to make a beast of burden of myself, to carry you HgjtJtfJijWtgWftiKi 3ia2 4ra THE CANADIANS OF OLD. your across to dance at the witches' sabbath with beloved cronies.' " ' My dear Francois,' answered the witch, * it is impossible for me to cro.^s the St. Lawrence without the help of a Christian, for the river is blessed.' " * Get across as you can, you confounded gallows' bird,' said my defunct father to her ; ' every one must look after their own affairs. Oh, yes ! indeed, a fine idea that I am to carry you across, to dance with your crew ; but you may just travel as you have been doing already, though hoWy I can't make out, and drag after you that fine cage, which must have rooted up all the stones and pebbles on the high road, which will make a fine row some ofthesedayb when the Overseer comes, and sees the wretched state of the roads ! Of course it will be the poor habitant who will hare to suffer for your pranks, by paying a fine for not having kept the road in proper order.' " Just then the drum-major left off' thumping time on his big pot. All the goblins left off dancing and ut- tered three cries, or rather three yells, like those given by the Indians when they perform their ' war dance,' that terribL dance and song with which they prelude their martial expeditions. The isle trembled to its very foundations. The wolves, the bears, all the wild beasts and the goblins of the northern mountains took up the cry, and the echoes repeated it till it died away in the forests, on the shores of the Saguenay." " My poor defunct father thought that, at the very least, it was the end of the world and the day of judg- ment. The giant with the spruce-plume struck three loud blows, and the deepest silence succeeded to the infernal din. He raised his arm towards my defunct father, and called out to him in a voice of thunder, * will you make haste, you idle dog, will you make haste, you dog of a Christian, and bring our friend across ? We have only fourteen thousand four hun- dred times more to dance round the island, before cock-crow ; would you have her lose the best of the fund." LA CORRTVEAU. 46 * Go lo the devil, whence you came, you and yours l*" exclaimed my defunct lather, at last losing all pa- tience. * Come, my dear Francois,' said La Corriveau, ' be more polite ! you are carrying on at a mere trifle, and yet you see time presses ; come, my son, just one attempt.' * No, no, you hag !' said my defunct father ; ' I wish you had still that fine necklace which the hangman put about your neck two years ago ; you would not then be quite so ready with your tongue.' During this dialogue the gobblins on the island had recommenced their chorus : Dance around. Toure-loure. ' My dear Francois,' said the witch, ' if you refuse to take me in flesh and blood, [ will strangle you, and fly across to the sabbath mounted on your soul.' So saying, she seized him by the throat, and strangled him. " What !" exclaimed the young men, " she strangled your poor defunct father ? " " When I say strangled, it was hardly any belter for the poor dear man," replied Jose, " for he quite lost his consciousness. When he came to himself, he heard a little bird calling out, who are you ? (que-tu)."* ' Ah, well,' said my defunct father, 'I cannot be in hell, since I hear one of God's birds. So first he opened one eye, and then the other, and saw it was broad daylight ; the sun was shining in his face ; the little bird perched on a neighboring tree still kept on calling, who are you ? * The author has to acknowletlge his ignorance in ornithology. Our excellent ornithologi.-t, M. Lemoine, will perhaps come to our assistance in rightly classifying the little bird whose cry sounds like the two syllables, gue-tu (qjti-es-tu i who are you) . This recalls the anecdote ol an old man who was " non compos mentis," and who lived about sixty years ago. Thinking the question addressed to himself when he heard these denizens of the woods, he did not fail to answer, at first very politely, " Pere Chamberland, my little children," but at length losing patience, " Pere Chamberland, you little pests." immmia m 40 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. ' My dear child,' said my defunct father, ' it is rather hard for me to answer that question, for I really do not know very well myself this morning who I am ; yesterday I was a good respectable man w^ho feared God, but I have had no many adventures through the night, that I can hardly be sure it is myself, FranQois Dube, that is here present in the ^esh,' and then the dear man began to sing : Dance around. Toure-loure. He was still half bewitched. However, at last he found that he was lying at full length in a ditch, where, fortunately, there was more mud than water, for other- wise my poor defunct father, who died like a saint, surrounded by all his relations and friends, and fur- nished with all the sacraments of the Church, without missing one, would have died without confession, like a brute beast, in the midst of the woods, with all respect to him and to you, young gentlemen. When he had dragged himself out of the ditch, in which he was squeezed like a vice, the first thing he saw was his flask on the edge of the ditch, which brought back his courage a little. He stretched out his hand to take a drink of it, but not a bit of it ! — it was empty ! The witch had drunk it all ! " My dear Jose," said Locheill, " I am not particu- larly cowardly, but if such an adventure had happened to me, I should never have travelled alone agair. at night." " Nor I either," put in d'Haberville. " To tell you the truth, gentlemen, since you un- derstand so well, I will tell you in confidence, that my defunct father, who, before this adventure, would have gone inio a graveyard at midnight, was never so courageous afterwards, for he did not dare go alone into the stable to do his work after sunset." " He was very right," said Jules, " but finish your story." " It is done already," answered Jose. " My de- LA CORRIVEAU. 47 funct father put to the horse, which appeared to have had no knowledge of anything, the poor beast, and got home as quick as he could. It was only a fort- night afterwards that he related his adventure to us." " What do you say now, you unbelieving egotist, who would not allow Canada the luxury of witches ?" said d'Haberville. " I say," answered Archy, " that our Scotch witches are fools compared to your New France ones, and if I should ever return to my Scotch mountains, I will have some put in bottles, as LeSage did with his * di'^ble boiteux ' Asmodeus. " Well ! well !" said Jose, " I should not pity them, the insecrable blackguards ! but where will you find bottles big enough, that is the worst of it." CHAPTER V. On cntendit du cote de la mer des bruits epouvan- tables comme si Aea torrents d'eau, meles a des tonnerres, eussent roules du haut des montagnes ; tout le monde s'ecria : voila I'ouragan ! Bebnakdin de Saint-Piekre. Though aged, he was so iron of limb Few of your youths could cope with him. Byeon. Que j'aille a son secours, s'ecria-t-il, ou que je meure ? Berxardin de Saint-Pierre. Les vents et les vagues sont toujours du cote du plus habile nageur. Gibbon. THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE. The travellers went merrily on their way till the day- light fading, they proceeded for a time by the light of the stars. Soon, however, the moon rose, throwing her beams far on the calm beauty of the majestic St. 48 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. Lawrence. At this sight, Jules could not refrain from giving expression to a poetical ebullition, and ex- claimed : " I feel myself inspired, not by the waters of Hip- /)ocrcne (of which, indeed, I have never drank, nor have I any wish to drink) but by the juice of Bacchus, which is far more agreeable than all the fountains in the world, even than the limpid wave of Parnassus. All hail to Ihco, then, oh beautiful moon ! all hail to thee, thou silvery lamp, that now lightest the steps of two mortals who are as free as the denizens of our boundless forests, two mortals but recently escaped from the trammels of college life ! How often, oh moon, at the sight of thy pale rays, penetrating to my solitary couch : how often, oh moon, have I not longed to break my chains asunder, and join the joyful throngs which were hastening to balls and parties, at the very moment that cruel and barbarous regulations were condemninof me to the slumber, which I was doins: my utmost to banish ! Ah ! how many times, oh moon, have I not wished to mount on thy disk, and thus even at the risk of breaking my neck, travel over the regions which thou lightest in thy majestic career, even if I had been obliged to pay'a visit to another hemisphere. Ah, how many times " " Ah, how many limes hast thou talk nonsense in thy life," said Archy ; " for folly is contagious. Listen to a true poet, and let your pride be humbled : Oh, moon ! thou triple essence that the poets formerly hailed as Diana the huntress, how must thou not delight to leave the gloomy domain of Pluto, as well as the forests, where preceded by thy barking pack, thou makest row enough to stun all the goblins in Canada; dost thou not delight, oh moon ! to sail majestically like a peaceful queen, through the ethereal regions of the sky, in the stillness of a lovely night. Have pity, I pray thee, on thy own work ; give back his senses to a poor afflicted mortal, my dearest friend, who — " " Oh, Phoebe ! patroness of madmen !" interrupted THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE. 4d Jules, " I address thee no prayer for my friend ; thou art innocent of his infirmity ; the harm was done " " Now then, you gentlemen," said Jose, " when you have finished gossiping with the lady moon, who I did not know one could talk such a lot to, would you be so good as to listen a little to the noise that ia going on at the village of St. Thomas." All listened attentively ; the church-bell was indeed ringing loud. " It is the An^elus" said Jules d'Haberville. " Of course !" replied Jose, " the Angehia at half- past eight o'clock in the evening !" *' Then it must be fire," said Archy. " Still one cannot see any flames," replied Jose ; " but any way, let us make haste : something uncom- mon must be going on down there." By means of urging on the horse full speed, they entered the village of St. Thomas in about half ap. hour. The deepest silence reigned there ; the place appeared deserted, except by several dogs that were shut up in some of the houses, and were barking furiously. Except for the noise of these curs, one might have imagined one-self transported to the town spoken of in the "Arabian Nights," where all the in- habitants were turned into marble. Our travellers were about to enter the church, whose bell was still ringing, when they perceived a light, and distinctly heard noises in the direction of the falls, near ihe seignorial manor. To hasten thither was the work of a few minutes only. The pen of a Cooper, or a Chateaubriand, could alone do justice to the sight which they beheld on the banks of the South River. Captain Marcheterre, an old sea captain of athletic form, still hale and hearty in spite of his age, had been returning home to the village towards dusk, when he heard a sound from the riw^r, '^ke some heavy body falling into the water ; and i ' .aodiately afterwards, the groans, and piteous cries oi a man who was calling for help. They came from a foolhardy habitant, Dumais by 4 miiama 60 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. name, who, thinking the ice which he had passed the evening before (and even then found somewhat bad) was still safe, iiad again ventured on it witli a horse and sleigh, a few hundred yards to the south-east of the village. The ice had given way so suddenly, that the horse and 'sleigh had disappeared completely under the water. The unfortunate Dumais, who was a man of unusual agility, had just time to spring from the sleigh on to stronger ice ; but the tremendous leap which he took to escape from inevitable death, and also the weight of his body, vas fatal to him. Having entangled his foot in a crack of the ice, he had the mis- fortune of breaking his leg, which snai)ped like a glass tube just above the ancle. Marcheterre, knowing the dangerous state of the ice, which was cracked in many places, called out to him not to stir, even if he haa the strength U 'o so, and that he would soon come back with he He ran immediately to the sexton, begging hini lo ring an alarm-bell, whilst he himself summoned his nearest neighbors. Soon all was liurry and confusion. Men were run- ning to and fro, without any order, or definite object ; women and children, were crying and lamenting dogs were barking and howling, on every note of the canine gamut ; so that the captain, whose experience pointed him out as the fittest person to direct the means of rescue, had much difficulty in making himself heard. In the 'meantime, under Marcheterre's directions, some ran for cables, ropes, planks, and piecs of tim- ber ; whilst others robbed the fences and wood piles, of cedar and birch-bark to make torches of. The scene became more and more animated, and by the light of fifty torches, throwing afar their bright and sparkling refulgence, the crowd spread itself along the shore of the river as far as the spot indicated by the old captain. Dumais, who had patiently enough awaited the arrival of help, called out to them as soon as he was THE BREAKING TTp OF THE ICE. 51 able to rtiako himself heard, that they must make haste, as he heard dull sounds whieh seemed to come IVom towards the mouth of the river. " There is not a moment to lose, my friends," said the old captain, " for everything looks as if the ice would soon break up." Men less experienced thnn he was, wanted at once to push the materials they had brought on to the ice, without fastening them together ; but to this, Marehe- terre would not consent, as the river was full of cracks, and, besides, the piece of ice on which Dumais was seated, was on the one side separated by the fragments which the horse had broken ofl' in its struggle before disappearing, and on the other by a large pool of water which prevented all approach to it. Marche- terre knowing that the bic aking up of the ice was not only inevitable, but also that it threatened them every moment, did not wish to exposed the lives of so many people, without taking every precaution that his long experience dictated to him. Some therefore began to hammer together the planks and pieces of timber, \vith their axes ; others bound them fast together ; others again, with the captain at their head, hauled them on to the ico, whilst the rest thrust them from the shore. This impromptu bridge hardly reached fifty feet from the bank, when the old sailor called out to them : " Now boys, let the quickest and strongest of you follow me at the distanct? of ten feet apart, and then let all push the bridge forward." Marcheterre was closely followed by his son, a young man in the vigor of his age, who, knowing his father's rashness, held himself in readiness to give him help in case of need ; for from under the water were heard lugubrious sounds, the sinister harbingers of an inundation. Still, every one remained at their post, and all was going on well, those who got out of their depth, hung on to the raft, and when once more upon the solid energy. A few minutes have been saved. 4* ice, set to work again with fresh more and Dumais would 52 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. The two Marclielerres, tlie fatlier in front, had arrived within a hundred feet of tlie unhappy victim of his own imprudence, when a subterraneous rum- bling, similar to the dull sound which precedes a strong shock of earthquake, seemed to run along the whole extent of the South River, from its mouth, to the fall by which it discharges itself into the St. Lawrence. To this rumbling there immediately suc- ceeded an explosion like a distant clap of thunder, or the discharge of a piece of artillery of the largest calibre. There arose a terrible cry: "The ice is breaking up ! run ! save yourselves ! " from the spec- tators on the shore. In fact, the ice was giving way in every direction under the pressure of the water, which rushing onwards in torrents, already overflowed both banks. Then ensued a terriffic scene of com- motion ; large pieces of ice driven against one another with an awful noise, heaped themselves up, till after reaching a certain height, they floated on the surface or disappeared under the waters. The planks and timber were tossed about like the playthings of an ocean stirred by the tempest. The cables and ropes threatened to break every moment. The spectators, struck with fear at the sight of their relations and friends exposed to certain death, kept continually calling from the shore : " run ! run : save yourselves !" It was, in fact, tempting Provi- dence to continue any longer the rash, and unequal combat, with the terrible element against whose fury they had to contend. Marcheterre, however, whom this overpowering spectacle seemed to excite rather than to daunt, kept calling out : " Forward boys, forward, for God's sake." This old sea-dog, who had been always cool and collected on the deck of his vessel, when during a hurricane, he gave orders for a manoeuvre on which the safety of his ship depended, was still the same in the face of a danger which struck with horror, even the most intrepid men. He perceived, on looking back, that with the exception of his son and Joncas, iWWWi8iWllfr,fi THE BREAKING UP OP THE ICE. 68 one of his sailorS, all were seeking safety in precipi- tate flight." "Ah, cowards ! " he exclaimed ; " pack of cowards !" These exclamations were interrupted by his son, who, seeing him about to rush to inevitable death, darted on him, and seizing him in his arms, threw him down on a plank, where he kept him for some moments in spite of the formidable grasp of the old man. Then ensued a terrible struggle between the father and son ! It was filial love opposed to that sublime impulse, the love of humanity ! The old man, by a violent effort, managed to get himself off the only safe place that remained, and he and his son rolled over on to the ice, where the obsti- nate strugle continued. It was at this critical moment for life or death that Joncas, springing from plank to plank, from timber to timber, came to help the young man in getting his father on to the floatirigbridge again. The spectators, who, from the shore, lost nothing of this heartrending scene, made haste in spite of the water, which already overran the banks of the river, to haul in the cables ; and the efforts of a hundred strong arnas were successful in saving three generous noble-hearted men from impending death. In fact, they were hardly in a place of safety, before the im- mense sheet of ice, which had till then remained stationary in spite of the furious attacks of the enemy which assailed it from all quarters, began, with a groaning sound, to move majestically downwards towa ds the falls, in order from there to disperse itself in the large river. All eyes were fixed on Dumais. He was naturally a brave man : of this he had given proof on many occasions against the enemies of h's country : he had even faced death, and that a frightful and cruel death, when tied to a stake and about to be burnt alive by the Iroquois Indians, he was, rescued by his friends. He remained seated in the same spot, on his preca- rious resting place, but calm and immoveable as the statue of death, only that he made some signs towards 64 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. the shore, that they understood to bc'his last adieu to his friends. Then, with his arms sometimes folded, sometimes raised towards heaven, he appeared to be perfectly detached from all wordly ties, and ready to cross the fearful gulf which separates time from eter- nity. Once on the bank of the river, the captain showed no sign of resentment ; on the contrary, resuming his usual sang f void ^ lie issued his orders with calmness and precision. " Let us follow the ice down," said he, " carrying with us the means of escape." " But what good will it be," exclaimed those who appeared the most experienced ; " the poor unhappy man is irretrievably lost." " There is still one chance left, just one little chance of safety for him," said the old sailor, listening atten- tively to a certain noisi^ which he heard far away to the south ; " and we must be prepared for it. The ice may break up any moment on the St. Nicholas * branch of the river, which, as you know, runs very rapidly. This sudden rush may perhaps drive back the ice on to our coast : besides, we shall not then have to blame ourselves for any thing that happens." What Capt. Marcheterre predicted, came to pass. A report like a clap of thunder was heard, and the waters from the St. Nicolas, rushing furiously from the bod of that river, rushed against the enormous mass of ice which, not having as yet met with any obstacle, was pursuing its triumphant course. For a moment they thought that this sudden, rapid check, and unexpected pressure, would drive a large portion of the ice to the north, as the captain had hoped. There was even a momentary change which sent it across towards the spectators, but this state of things, apparently so favorable to the deliverance of Dumais, lasted but a short time. The bed of the river being too narrow to allow free passage to the torrent, it * A river which runs into the South River, at right angles with it, near the village. THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE. 66 came to a stand-still, and the ice, heaping itself up, formed an embankment of prodigious height. The large body of water which for a time had been ar- rested by the impassable barrier of ice, now spread itself far over both shores of the river, and inundated even the greater part of the village. This unexpected inundation forced the spectators to seek a place of refuge on the steep heights of the river, and thus extmguished the last hope of helping the unfortumate Dumais. It V. ttS a long and obstinate struggle between the powerful element, and the obstacle which impeded its course ; but at length this immense lake, which was continually being fed by the principal river and its affluents, rose to the level of the bank of ice whose foundations it undermined at the same time. Under the pressure of this enormous weight, the embankment gave way with a crash that shook both shores. As the South River suddenly widens below the St. Nicholas, this compact mass of ice, now freed from all hin- drance, moved down as swiftly as an arow, hurrying headlong towards the falls that it had to pass over before falling into the basin of the St. Lawrence. Dumais had accepted his death with resignation ; calm amidst the turmoil, his eyes raised to heaven and his hands folded on his breast, he appeared to be absorbed in deep meditation, as if he had already broken every tie that bound him to the material world. The spectators rushed in crowds to the falls, to see the end of this wonderful drama. A great number of people on the other side of the river, hearing the alaim bell, had run to the shore, and had also stripped their fences of cedar-bark, in order to make torches. All these lights crossing one another, shed a vivid brightness on the sad scene. At a little distance was seen the seignorial manor, a long and imposing edifice to the south-east of the river, standing on the highest point of a promontory which overlooked the basin and ran parallel with the cataract. About 06 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. two hundred feet from the manor rose the roof of a saw-mill, whose causeway adjoined the fall itself. Two hundred feet from the mill, on the summit of the falls, there were visible the remains of an islet on which, from time immemorial, the passage of the ice each spring had done its work of destruction (o). Fallen from its primitive grandeur, (for probably, of old, there had been a penisula on the continent, of which this island had formed the extremity), it now only presented a surface of about a dozen square feet. Of all the trees that had formerly given it so pic- turesque an air, there now only remained one venerable cedar. This veteran, which for so many years had braved the fury of the winds and attacks of the ice from the South River, had ended by at last half succumbing in the formidable struggle. Broken high up, the top of the tree swung mournfully over the abyss, towards which the trunk also leaned, threaten- ing to disappear completely into it, and thus deprive the islet of its only ornament. Several hundred feet separated this islet from a saw-mill situated to the north-east of the cataraci. Through an irregularity in the ground, this prodigious mass of ice, which, attracted by the fall, descended the river with the speed of an arrow, jammed itself almost all between the islet and the mill, of which it demolished the dam in a few seconds ; then heaping itself up at the foot of the heights, as high as the top of the mill, it finished by demolishing the mill itself. The ice having taken this direction, the channel between the islet and the saw-mill found itself com- paratively unencumbered. The crowd were still running along the shore, watching with anxiety, mixed with horror, the man whom a miracle alone could save from a horrible and premature death. In fact, when he had arrived at about thirty feet from the islet, the piece of ice on which was Dumais, was evidently bearing him away from the only chance of escape that Providence seemed to offer him, when an iceberg that was des- joKW^TOflP^ THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE. 67 cending with a rapidity which its enormous bulk increased, coming in contact with one of its corners, gave it a contrary direction. Thus hurled forward with a fresh impetus, it cleared that part of the islet which was already encroached on by the water, and attacked the old cedar, which was the only obstacle it met with on the summit of the cataract. The tree, shaken by the unforeseen collision, quivered in every limb ; its top, which was already broken, separated itself from the trunk and disappeared in waves of foam. Relieved from this weight, the old tree suddenly straightened itself, and like a still formidable wrestler, prepared to sustain a fresh combat with the old enemies it had so often triumphed over. In the meantime, Dumais, jerked forward by the unexpected collision, laid hold of the trunk of the old cedar, which he clasped in his arms with a convul- sive embrace ; and raising himself on one leg, the only support that remained to him, he clung to it with the tenacity of a dying man, whilst the piece of ice on which his only foot rested, whirled about by the water which was increasing every moment, and attracted by two contrary currents, oscillated from right to left, threatening every moment to deprive him of even that frail support. Nothing was wanting to complete this imposing scene of horror. The flickering torches, on both shores, threw a sinister light on the ghostly features, and fixed and straining eyes of this unhappy victim, tims suspended on the verge of death. Dumais was cer- tainly a brave man ! He had already, on difterent occasions, given proofs of his heroic courage, but in this exceptional and unheard of position, he may be pardoned if his presence of mine failed him. In the meantime, Marcheterre and his friends had Still some hopes of saving him. On the shore near the saw-mill they perceived two large square pieces of wood. With these they has- tened to a rock which advanced into the river about two hundred feet above the fall. By tying each of 88 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. these to a rope, and laimcliing them one after another, they hoped the stream might carry them on to the islet ! Alas ! vain hope ! useless effort ! The impetus they gave them was not sufficient, and the pieces of wood being besides encumbered with the wcigiit of the rope, always drifted between the shore and the island. It would seem impossible to add one darker shade to the appalling sublimity of this scene, or to increase the sorrowful emotion of the lookers-un, who were struck with horror at the sight of a fellow-being, who, any moment, might disappear in the yawning gulf of the cataract. Nevertheless a scene .equally sublime and imposing was passing on the shore ! It was religion reassuring the christian, who was preparing to appear before the tribunal of his Supreme Judge ! It was religion offering its consolations to the christian who was about to cross the terrible gulf which divides life from death ! The old cure of the parish, whose sacred office had, just before the accident, called him to the bedside of a sick man, had run to the scene of distress. He was an old man of ninety, of immense stature ; the weight of years had not bent the form of this modern Nestor, who had baptised and married all his pa- rishioners, and buried three generations of them. His long hair, white as snow, stirred by the night-breeze, gave him the inspired look of a prophet. He stood there, on the shore, his two hands stretched out towards the unhappy Dumais. He loved him ; it was he who had baptised him, it was he who had made him perform that touching act of Catholic worship which suddenly changes the nature of the child and makes it partake of the nature af angels. He loved Dumais also, because he had married him to a young orplan that he himself had tenderly reared, and who was made happy by this union ; he loved him, too, because he had baptised his two children who were the joy of his old age. There he stood, on the shore, like an THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE. 59 angel of mercy, (3xhorting him to death and giving him not only all the consolations that his i=.acied office dictated, but also addressing him in that touching language which can only be inspired by a tender and compassionate heart. He reassured him as to the fate of his little family of whom the Seigneur de Beaumont would take charge, when he, an old man, on the brink of the grave, should be no more. But seeing that the danger became more and more immi- nent every moment, as each new shock to the tree seemed to paralyse the strength of the unhappy Dumais, he controlled himself by a powerful eftbrt, and called to him in u voice that ho tried to steady, but which was broken by liis sobs : " My son, make an act of contrition ; I am going to give you absolution from all your sins." The pious pastor, having paid this tribute to natural feeling, resumed in a firm voice that v/as heard vibrating above the deafening noise of the cataract : " My son, in the name of Almighfy God, in that of Jesus-Christ his Sou, who has g'ven unto me the power of binding and loosing on 'arth, and in the name of the Holy Ghost, I absolve t lee from all thy sins. Amen." And the crowd, tor, praying to the God of mercy, alone interrupted the death-like silence. Locheill's first useless ellorts had only incited lilm the more to this work of philanthropic devotedness ; with rare self-abnegation, he had made the sacrifice of his life. The rope, his only chance of safety, might easily break when burlhened with a double load, be- sides being exposed, as it would be incessantly, to the action of the impetuous torrent. He was also too skilful a swimmer to be ignorant of the imminent danger to which he exposed himself in dragging a man to shore who was quite incapable of assisting himself in any way. He also knew that he would have to remain under water without breathing until he reached the .shore. Still retaining his self-possession, he said to Marche- tene : " We must change our tactics ; it was holding the coil of rope in my right hand which paralysed my strength, when I first sprang into the river, and again when I tried to get near the islet." u THE CANADIANS OP OLD. Hv. then enlarged the tliametef of the coil of rope which he passed over hia right shculder, and under his left arm, so as to leave himself free use of both his arms. Having taken these precautions, he made a bound like a tiger, and immediately disappearing under the waters which bore him away as swiftly as a horse at full speed, did not reappear till within about twelve feet from the isl(!t, when he was checked by the rope that Marchetcrre hauled tight, as had been arranged between them. Thismanoiuvre was nearly being fatal to him ; for losing his equilibrium, he turned with his head under water, whilst the rest of his body floated horizontally on the river. His pre- sence of mind fortunately did not desert him for an instant in this critical position, trusting as he did in the experience of the old sailor. The latter suddenly letting out two fathoms of the rope, with a slight jerk, Locheill resorted to one of those feats of strength known to good swimmers : and suddenly bringing his heels against his loins, and then straightening his legs to strike the water perpendicularly, he helped himself by swimming alternately with his two hands, till he at length recovered his equilibrium. Then putting his left shoulder forwa J to preserve his breast from a shock that would be iatal to him and Dumais, he came up to the place of the disaster, with the speed of lightning. Dumais, notwithstanding iiis apparent state of torpor and notwithstanding his immobility, had nevertheless lost nothing of what was passing. At the sight of the first attempt of his deliverer, a ray of hope that had quickly vanished had shone on the depths of his soul, and this hope had revived within him on seeing the superhuman bound which Locheill made when darting from the summit of the rock. The latter had hardly reached the ice to which he clung with one hand, whilst with the other he unwound the rope coiled around him, when Dumais, letting go his hold of the fostering tree, sprang so far with his only leg that he fell into Archy's arms. THE BREAKING UP OP THE ICE. 66 Tho impetuous torrent immediately rushed over the extremity of tho ice, which, loaded with a double weight, reared itself up like a fiery horse ; and this heavy mass, which the waters urgecf on with irresisti- ble force, fallinir back on the okl cedar, the veteran tree, after a useless eflfort to resist, was swallowed up in the abyss, dragging after it a part of the domain where it had reigned supreme for several conluries. There were then great acclamations from both shores of South River ; acclamations of triumph from the more distant spectators, and a cry of horror from those on the bank which was the neares' lo the scene of this drama of life and death. In fact everything had disappeared as completely as if the wand of a powerful enchanter had been waved over the scene and actors, who had inspired such fearful interest. Along the whole breadth of the top of the cataract nothing could be seen between the two shores but the sad spectacle of the hurrying waters, which were precipitating themselves into the basin with formidable noise, and the curtain of white foam which was rising to the upptr level. Jules d'Haberville had only recognised his friend at the moment when he the second time sprang into the water. Having frequently witnessed his exploits in swimming, and knowing his prodigious strength, he had at first shown only half stupefied astonish- ment, but when he saw him disappear under the water, he uttered a frenzied cry, like that of a tender mother w^ho sees the bleeding corpse of her only child ; a prey to his wild grief, he was about to throw him- self into the torrent, when he felt the iron arms of Jose thrown around him. Entreaties, threats, exclamations of rage and morti- fication, wild blows, bites, — all were ineffectual to make the faithful servant relax his grasp. " It is all very fine, my dear Mons. Jules," Jose said, " hit me and bite me, if it relieves you, but for God's saky keep quiet ! Your friend will soon come up again, you know he dives like a porpoise, and that 5 mmmm mmmmmmmm 66 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. once he is under water, there is no knowing wliere he will re-appear ! Keep quiet, do, dear Mons. Jules ; you would not kill poor Jose, would you, who loves you so much and used to carry you about in his arms ? Your father sent me to fetch you from Quebec ; I am answerable for your soul and body, and it shall not be my fault if I do not take you back alive. If I do not, you see, Monsieur Jules, there will be a ball put through the head of poor old Jose. But look, the captain is hauling in the rope as quick as lie can, and you may be sure Mr. Archy is at the end of it full of life. Marcheterre, with the help of his friends, was, even whilst descending along tlie strand, hauling in the rope with long and powerful pulls, as he felfr a double weight at the end of it. Once in safety on the shore, great efforts were ne- cessary to disengage Locheill from the tight embrace of Dumais, who gave no signs of life. Archy, on the contrary, once freed from the embrace which nearly stifled him, threw up a few mouthfuls of water, breathed loudly and then said : " He is not dead, he can be only fainting, for hardly a moment ago he was alive." They quickly carried Dumais to the seignorial ma- n'">r, where assiduous and skilful care was taken of him. At the end of half an hour, drops of salutary sweat rolled from his brow, and at the end of another 'ialf hour, he opened his haggard eyes, which, after wandering round for some time, were at last fixed on the old cure. The latter approached his ear to the 1 ips of Dumais, and the first words he could catch were : " My wife ! my children ! Mons. Archy !" " Do not be uneasy, my dear Dumais," said the old man ; " your wife has recovered her fainting fit, but as she believes you to be dead, great caution will be necessary in announcing your deliverance to her ; so many conflicting emotions might kill her. As soon as it will be prudent to do so, I will bring her to see you ; I am going to prepare her for it. In the THE BREAKING UP OF THE ICE. 67 meantime, here is Mr. Locheill, to whom, under God, you owe your life." At the sight of his deliverer, whom he had not before distinguished from ihe others present, there was a reaction in the whole sys- tem of the sick man. He put his arms round Archy, and pressing his lips to his cheek, tears streamed abundantly from his eyes. " How can I repay you," said he " for what you have done for me and for my poor wife and children ?" " By quickly regaining your health," said Archy, cheerfully. " Monsieur de Beaumont has sent a messenger lull speed to Quebec for the most skilful surgeon, and another messenger to prepare relays of carriages along the road, so that by midday to- morrow, at the latest, your broken leg will be so well set, that in two months you will easily be able to fire off a gun with your old friends the Iroquois." When the old pastor entered the room to which they had taken his adopted daughter, he found her half- lying on the bed, holding her younger child in her arms, while the other was sleeping at her feet. Pale as death, and taking no Jieed of what Madame de Beaumont and the other ladies of the village were saying to her to console her, she kept on repeating : " My husband ! my poor husband ! I shall not even have the sad consolation of kissing the corpse of my dear husband, the father of my children !" On perceiving the old cure, she exclaimed, hold- ing out her arm« to him : *' Is it you, my father, who have given me so many proofs of affection from my childhood, who are now coming to tell me that all is over ! Ah ! no ; f know you too well ; you would not bring such a messagr- to the orphan you have brought up ! I beg of you s^peak, you, whose lips only utter words of consolation !" " Your husband," said the old man, " will receive christian burial." *' Then he his dead," exclaimed the poor woman ; and for the first time sobs burst from her heaving breast. It was this reaction that the old pastor was awaiting. ppiW*«imP]J «N ^w iBiyj. ;. !.H||H)(*!J J .>^. i ,»nipi||p|jp||j|j W$ THE CANADIANS OP OLD. " My dear daughter," he replied, " a moment ago, the only boon you asked was to embrace the dead body of your husband, and God as heard your prayer. Trast in Him, for His powerful hand which has withdrawn him from the abyss, is able also to give him back life." The young woman only answered by fresh sobs. *' He is the same God of boundless mercy," con- tinued the pastor, " who said to Lazarus, ' come forth.' All hope is not lost, for your husband in his 5J State of horrible suffering The poor young woman, who had, up till then, lis- tened to her old friend without quite understanding him, seemed to wake from a horrible nightmare, and gathering her two sleeping children in her arms, she darted to the door. To describe the interview between Dumais and his family would be impossible. The imagination of such as are gifted with feeling hearts can alone picture it. It is easy to be pathetic when describing terrible sufferings, or great misfortunes, but the artist's pencil refuses to depict happiness, and only traces faint lines on the canvas. *^ Now, let us go and sup," said Mons. de Beau- mont to his old and venerable friend, " we have all great need of it, more especially this noble and courageous young man," he added, pointing to Archy. " Gently, gently, my dear Sir," said the old cure. " There is a more pressing duty for us to fulfil, which is that of thanking God, whose protection has been manifested in so striking a manner !" All present knelt down, and the old cure, in a short but touciaing prayer, returned thanks to Him who commands the sea in its wrath, to Him who holds in His powerful hands, the life and death of his feeble creatures. A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOR'S. 69 CHAPTER VI. -^S-i " Half cut down, a pasty, costly made Where quail and pigeon, lark and loriot, lay Like fossilit of the rock, with golden yokes Imbedded and enjellied.'' TSNNYSON. A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOR'S. The table was laid in a low but spacious room, whose furnitr'e without being luxurious, left nothing to be desired as regards comfort. A thick, woollen, checked carpet, of Canadian manufacture, covered three quarters of the floor of the dining-room. The bright-colored v/oollen stuff with which it was hung, and which also covered the backs of the sofa, the armchairs, and the mahogany chairs with feet like quadrupeds' (much the same as those now in fashion), was figured with gigantic birds, an attempt to classify which would have driven the imprudent ornithologist to despair. An immenb' "upboard, reaching nearly to the ceiling, displayed upon the many shelves with wnich it was furnished, a willow-pattern dinner-service, which seemed by its thickness to defy the awkward- ness of servants who might let any of it fall. Above the lower part of the cuoboard (which served for a press, and might be cailed the ground floor of the edifice) there projected a shell at least eighteen inches wide, on which stood n sort of rasket, liigher than it was wide, and who<»e c^aapartments, lined with green baize, wax^ filled with siiTer-handled desert knives and forks: On this shelf there was also a large silver jug, full of water for such as wished to dilute their wine, and some bottles of the divine juice of the grape. wmmmm, wmmmmmmim 70 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. A pile of real china plates, two decanters of white wine,* two tarts, a dish of eggs a ia neige^\ some wafers, a bowl of preserves, on a little table covered with a white cloth, near the cupboard, composed the dessert for the supper of a Canadian seignior of those days. In one corner of the room, there was a cistern of blue and white china, shaped like a barrel, with a tap and basin, which served for the ablutions of the family. At the opposite corner, r large cellaret filled with square bottles containing brandy, absinthe, and noyau, as well as raspberry, black currant, and aniseed cordials, &c. , for daily use, completed the furniture of the room. The table was laid for eight people. A silver fork and spoon wrapped in a table napkin, were placed on the left of each plate, and a bottle of light wine on the right. There were no k'^ives on the table during the first courjae | ; every oiie was already provided with this useful implement which Orientals only can dispense with. If it were a spring knife, it was carried in th*? pocket ; but if, on the contrary, it was a dagger-kniie, it was suspended from the neck, in a sheath of morocco, silk, or even of birch bark, artisti- cally worked and embroidered by the aborigines. The handles were generally of ivory riveted with silver, and were even of mother-o'peari for the ladies. * The Canadians used generally to drink only white wine at dessert. t The mistress of the house would sometimes amuse herself and mistily her fiiiends, in the winter-time, by soostitutinj? some real snow for this exacUent dish; and, still lurther to heighten the illusion, she would pour over the snow a urw spoonfuls of the yellow sauce : of course, after every «mi:> nad laugied at the trick, the real dish of eggs d la 7iei^e would be feMUght tbrth : the first one proving far too cold for the taste oi the guests. Z The authcif himself has always seen the present fashion of table knives usoi durmg the first course ; ne^terthdfss, the tradition is as has been men- tioiMd above : the foilowmg anecdote confirms it : An old Canadian gentleman dining at St. Louis Castle, after the con- quest, at table made use of a splendid case knife, which he wore suspended from his neck. His son, who was present, and who, according to his father's expression, had adoote^l the fashion of using table-knives before the deawrt,in order to ape the V.nglish, told the author that he thought he should have died of shame nt scomg the young people of both sexe-*, laughing and sneering at his father.. . . .Fifty years ago, the habitants always made use ol their pocket-knives during meals ; the men, of knives loaded with lead ; a blacksmith made the blade of it, and the wootlen handle was ornamented A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOR'S. 71 There was also to the right of each cover, silver cups or goblets, of various forms and sizes ;* some, very plain, with or without handles, some chalice- shaped, with or without feet, and some embossed ; many were also gilt inside. A servant-maid, by handing on a waiter the usual coup d^appitity that is to say, brandy for the gentlem.en, and cordials for the ladies, announced that supper was served. Eight persons placed themselves at table. Mons. de Beaumont and his wife, Mme. Descarrieres their sister, the cure, Captain Marche- terre, his son Henry, and lastly Jules and Archy. The mistress of the house gave the place of honor to the venerable cure, by placing him on her right, and the second place, that on her left, to the old sailor. The bill of fare consisted of some excellent soup, (in those days soup was a matter of course, for dinner as well as for supper) a cold pic, called an Easter pie, and served, on account of its immense size, on a board covered with a napkin or small white cloth, according to its proportions. This pie, that Brillat- Savarin might have envied, was composed of a turkey, two chickens, two partridges, two pigeons, the back and thighs of two hares, the whole covered with slices of fat bacon. The force-meat, on a soft thick bed, on which these gastronomic treasures lay, and which also covered the upper part, was made from the two hams of that animal which the Jew despises, but which the Christian treats with more respect. Large onions interspersed, and spices, com- pleted the dish. But a very important part was the with tin chasing. As this instrument had no spring, the person using it was obhged to keep the blade straight with his thumb ; the ingenious arti- ficer who had made it, having facilitated the operation by placing a small button on the blade just where it joined the handle. The habitants made use of this weapon very skiiruUy ; but novices generally pinched their thumbs terribly : a slight apprenliccship was necessary. The women made use ol ordinary pocket knives, which they bought in the shops. =* Nearly seventy years ago, many families had still the custom of making use 0/ the silver goblets ot table. At dessert-time wine glasses were added, and the guests made use of either indlHerently, according to their greater or lesis thirst ; besides, at that time, drunkenness was an unknown vice in the best Canadian society. mmm 72 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. cooking, which was the more difficult as, if the monster burst, it lost fifty per cent of its attractions. To prevent so deplorable an event, the under- crust, which also covered about three inches in depth of the culinary monster's sides, was not less than an inch thick. This very crust, impregnated with the gravy from all these meats, was a delicious part of this unique dish.* Roast fowls and partridges, covered with double slices of bacon, pigs' feet, a stew, very diflferent from that with which a Spanish hotel-keeper treated Gil Bias, were the other dishes which appeared at the hospitable board of Monsieur de Beaumont. For some time they ate in silence, an. J with good appetite ; but during the dessert, the old sailor, who, even whilst eating like a famished wolf and drinking in proportion, had been incessantly looking at Archy with increasing interest, was the first to break the silence. " It seems to me, young man," said he in a jeering tone, " that you are not much afraid of colds in the head ! It also seems to me that you are in no great hurry to breathe the air of heaven ; and that, like two others of your race, the beaver and the otter, you only put your nose out of water every half hour or so, just for form's sake, and to see what is going on in the upper world. You are devilish like the salmon, too ; for when one lets him have plenty of line, he takes advantage of it. Gudgeons of your sort are not caught in every stream, I'm thinking ! " " All of which does not prevent that without your presence of mind, and admirable care not to let out more line than was exactly necessary, I should have hurl my head and chest, against the ice, and the body of poor Dumais, instead of lying in a warm bed, would be now tossing about in the icy bed of the St. Lawrence." * The author thought he would be confv,. ig a favor on lovers of good- living, by giving them so minute a description of this old. Canadian pie; and he strongly advises them to make a trial of it if they will not take his word as to its merits. Large families would often make two of them at once, attacking the second, soon atler demolishing the lirst. A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOR'S. 73 " Listen to that fellow ! " replied Marcheterre, " to hear him talk, you would think it was I who had done the deed ! I might well give you out more line, when I saw your heels going nearly over your head ; a position you would have found awkward enough in the very middle of the rushing water. May the dev — , I beg your pardon, Monsieur le cure : I was going to swear, it is an old sailor's habit of mine." " Ah ! " said the cure (a) laughing, " it is just one more or less, for, you old sinner, you have lor;;; been indulging in them ; your tally-stick is full of notches, and now you keep no account of your oaths." " When ray tally is full of notches, my dear cure," said Marcheterre, " you shall pass a plane over it to efface the notches, as you have already done ; and we will begin them over again. Besides, I shall not escape you, for you will know how to hook me in the right time and place, and tow me to a safe port along with the other sinners." " You are too severe, Mons. I'abbe," said Jules ; " ^hy should you wish the captain to deprive himself of the consolation of swearing just a little ? were it only against his nigger cook, who makes fricassees for him as black as his own face ! " " What, you mad little devil ! " exclaimed the captain, pretending to be angry, " you dare to speak that way, after the trick you played me ! " " I ! " said Jules, meekly ; " I play you a trick .? I am quite incapable of it, captain ; you calumniate me sadly." " Ah, look at that meek saint ! " said Marcheterre; "^' I have calumniated him ! but never mind, I must now attend to what is more urgent. Lie to, for the present, boy, just for a short quarter of an hour ; I will be at you again presently." " 1 was about to say," continued the captain, " when Monsieur le cure thrust my unlucky oath into the hold and shut down the hatchway on it, that even, young man, if you had descended the falls, through curiosity, so as to be able to tell your friends what 74 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. goes on there, you would, like your relative the salmon, have also found out the way to scale them." The conversation having turned to joking, wit- ticisms and bon mots for a long time succeeded to the painful emotions of thr arlier part of the evening. " Fill your gohletn, ,Ai of you," exclaimed Monsieur de Beaumont, " I am about to propose a toast which I am sure will be well received." " You can easily talk about filling," said the old cure, to whom they had given a richly chased cup, nearly double the size of those of the other guests, to do him honor ; " but I now am more than ninety years of age, and have not the strong Broton head that I had at twenty-five." " But my dear friend," said Monsieur de Beaumont, " you will not have far to go, as of course you will sleep here. And then if your legs fail you a little, your great age will pass ior being the cause of it, and nobody will be scandalized." " You forget. Sir," said the cure, " that I accepted your amiable invitation in order to be at hand to attend to poor Dumais ; my intention is to pass the night with him. If you take away my strength," he added laughingly, " of what use can I be to him ? " " Still, you must go to bed," said Monsieur de Beaumont, " for such are the orders of the master of the house. You shall be awakened if you are wanted. Be under no uneasiness as to poor Dumais and his wife ; Madame Couture, their intimate friend, is with them. I will even after supper (for I have ordered refreshments for all who are here) send up a number of gossips who will ask no better than to encumber the sick room all the night, and vitiate the pure air of which he has so much need. We shall all be forth- coming if we are wanted." * " You speak so wisely," replied the cure, " that I am obliged to yield." Saying which he poured a reasonable quantity of wine into the formidable cup. * It was then the custom in country places, to crowd the sick room : it is to be regretted timt it is still the case. A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOR'S. 75- Then the Seignior de Beaumont addressed Archy in « slightly trembling but impressive voice : " Your conduct is above all praise. One can hardly tell which is most to be admired, the self-devotion which made you risk your life for the sake of a perfect stranger, or the courage and presence of mind which enabled you to succeed ! I know that your are about to embrace the profession of arms, you possess all the requisite qualities for your new profession. A soldier myself, I predict a successful career for you. Let us drink to the health of Mr. Locheill, the hero of the day ! " The young Scotchman's health was drunk with enthusiasm. Archy, after having replied to it, added with much modesty : " I am really ashamed of receiving so much praise for so simple an act. I was probably the only person present who knew how to swim, for any of the others would have done as much. It is said," he added, smiling, " that your Indian women throw their new- born children into the lake or the river, leaving them to find their own way to shore, and that this is their first lesson in the art of swimming. I am inclined to think that our Highland mothers have the same excellent custom, for it seems to me I have always known how to swim." " Mr. Archy is at his jokes again " said the Captain. " As for me, although I have sailed for fifty years, I have never been able to learn to swim, (6) not, however, for want of having fallen into the water oftener than it was at all neces- sary, but because I had always the luck to catch hold somewhere. If there was nothing within my reach, I just threw my limbs about as the dogs and cats do, and sooner or later some one must have fished me out, since I am here now. This recalls to my mind an incident of my sailor's life. My ship wais at anchor on the banks of the Missis-.ippi. It mi^ht have been nine o'clock in the evening of one of those days of suffocating heat which can only be 76 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. enjoyed near the tropics. I had lain down on the bowsprit of my vessel to breathe the evening breefze. With the exception of the gnats, sandflie.s and mos- quitoes, and the infernal noise made by the aligators, ■which I do believe had assembled from all parts of the * Father of Rivers ' to give me a serenade, an Eastern Prince might have envied me my couch. I am not of a very timid nature, I must say, but I have a natural avf^rsion to all sorts of reptiles, whether they creep on the earth or live in the water." " Captain," said Jules, " you certainly have deli- cate, refined, aristocrat ; tastes, and I honor you for it." " Do you dare put i word again, you good-for- nothing fellow, you exclaimed Marcheterre, laughingly, shaking hi.s enormous fist at him. " I was nearly forgetting you, but your turn shall soon come now ! In the meantime I will proceed with my story : I was feeling very comfortable-, safely up there on my mast, listening to the hungry monsters, snapping their jaws ; I was even defying my enemies, saying to them : My fine fellows, you would like to eat my carcass by way of a delicate tit-bit for supper, would you not ? There is but one impediment, you see, which is, that even if you would be obliged to fast like anchorets all your lives, I would not be the one to make you break your fast ; I have too scru- pulous a conscience for that. " I cannot exactly tell you how it happened," con- tinued Marcheterre, " but somehow I finished by falling asleep, and when I awoke I was plump in the midst of the fine fellows. It is impossible to describe my horror to you, notwithstanding my habitual coolness. I did not, however, lose all presence of mind ; whilst under water, I remembered that there was a rope hanging from the bowsprit, and in rising to tne surface I had the good luck to catch hold of it, but in spite of my monkey-like agility and my youth, I only got clear by leaving one of my boots and a precious A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOR'S. rr morsel of one of my calves, as hofstages in the throat of an uncivilized alligator.* " Now foi your turn, you devil's imp," continued the captain. '' Sooner or later I must pay you out for the trick you played me. Last year, I was just arriving from Martinique, when one morning in the Lower Town of Quebec, I met my young gentleman just as he was preparing to cross the river to go home to his father's, at the commencement of the holidays. After a volley of hugs, from which I could only get free by pulling off to larboard, I begged him to announce my arrival to my family, and to tell them I could not go down to St. Thomas for three or four days. What did the saint do ' He arrived at my place at about eight o'clock in the evening, screaming out like a madman : ' Joy ! joy ! shout for joy ! ' " ' My husband is arrived,' said Madame Marche- terre. ' My father is arrived,' cried my two daughters. * Of course,' said he, I should not be so jolly other- wise. First, he kissed my old woman, there was no great harm in that. He tried to kiss my daughters, who fired a double broadside of boxes on the ear, and then shot oft' full sail. What do you say. Mon- sieur le cure, to this fine beginning, before going farther ?" " A'l ! Monsieur Jules," exclaimed the old pastor, " I ■"• hearing fine things of you ! it was certainly ' y '■ aifying conduct for a pupil of the reverend Jesuit fathers !" " You see. Monsieur I'abbe," said Jules, " that all that was only for fun, just to take part in the joy of this amicable family. I knew too well the fero-^ious virtue, (with a basis as firm as that of Cape Tempest) of these sailors' daughters, to be in earnest. I knew that after having fired their double broadside of boxes on ihe ear, they would shoot off at full sail." " I am beginning to believe, after all," said the old * Fifty years ago, Captain Demeule, of the Island of Orleans, who fre- «iuented the Southern Seas, related to me a similar adventure which had happened to him. 78 THE CANADIANS OF OLD cure, " thill you are telling the truth, that it was more tricks than bud intention on your part, for I know Jules d'Haberville, perfectly." " That is right," said the captain ; " now take his part, that is all that is wanting ; but we shall see whether you will be equally indulgent as to the rest :" When my gentleman had finished making a noise, he said to my wife : * the captain begged me to tell you that he would be here to-morrow, towards ten o'clock in the evening ; and as he has made a good thing of his voyage (which after all was true) he wishes all his friends to partake of his happiness. He would like there to be a ball and supper on his arrival at home, which would be at about the hour for sitting down to table. Therefore get everything ready for this fete, to which he has invited me and my brother Locheill. It puts me out a little,' added the hypocrite, ' for I am in a hurry to see my dear parents ; still, dear ladies, there is nothing I would not do for you.' *' * But what is my husband about, to give me so little time !' said Madame Marcheterre ; ' we have no market here ! my cook is too old to be able to do so much work in one day ! It seems hopeless ; but we must try and perform impossibilities to please him.' " ' Can I not be of some service to you ? ' said the hypocrite, pretending to be very sorry for my old woman. ' I will undertake the invitations with the greatest pleasure.' ** ' You will really be doing me good service,' said my wife ; you know every one, and I give you carte blanche." " My wife then sent all over the parish to procure the meats she required. She and my daughters passed the greater part of the night, helping the old cook to make pastry, whipped creams, blanc-mange, wafers, and a lot of trifles which are not to be com- pared to the good tiaudes we get on the banks of A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOU'S. 70 Newfoundland.* liesitlcs Monsieur Jules did the thing in grand style. During the night, he despatched two messengers on horseback, one to the north-east, the other to the south-west, bearing invitations to the fete ; so that at six o'clock the next evening, thanks to his kind consideration, my house was full of guests, who were ducking like sea gulls whilst I was anchored at Quebec, and to whom Madame Marche- terre, in spite of a dreadful sick headache, was doing the honors of the house with the best grace possible. What do you say, gentlemen, to such a trick, and what have you to say for yourself, you young cro- codile ? " " 1 wished," said Jules, " thai every one should take part in the joy of the family at the success of a friend who was so dear ! so generous ! so splendid ! I can assure you that if you had witnessed the regrets, the general consternation, when they were obliged to sit down to table towards eleven o'clock, without waiting any longer for you (the next day being a day of abstinence,) you would have been melted into tears. As for your wife, she is an ungrateful, yes, a very ungrateful woman. Seeing, a little before eleven o'clock, that she was in no hurry to give us supper, and that she was even beginning to be a little uneasy about her dear husband, I just whispered a word in her ear, and by way of thanks, she broke her fan across my face." Every one burst out laughing, and the captain partook heartily of the general hilarity. " How comes it, Marcheterre," said Monsieur de Beaumont, "that you never before told us of this excellent trick ? " " There was no use,'* replied the captain, " telling every one how we had been taken in by this young rascal ; besides, it would hardly have been very gracious of us to make known to you all, that you * An old habitant, on being offered some chicken at dinner exclaimed << That is only trash ! there is more sense in a piece of pork or a good tiaude ! This latter dish is composed of layers of f renh cod-fish and pork^ place alternately, and then stewed. It is of Dutch origin. .^ijjittaai^jac^sf-". 80 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. owed the fete to Monsieur Jules d'Haberville : we preferred getting tiie credit of it ourselves. I only tell it now because I found it such a droll trick, that I thought it would amuse you to hear of it." " It seems to me, Mr. Diver," continued Marche- terre, addressing himself to Archy, " that notwith- standing your quiet, philosophical manner, you were an accomplice of your dear fellow-traveller." " I give you my word," said Locheill, " that I knew nothing at all about it ; it was only the next day Jules told me in confidence of his exploit, and I scolded him well for it." " And of course you did not profit by it, flinging your great Scotch legs about to the imminent danger of the more civilized shins of your neighbors. Perhaps you have forgotten, that not content with dancing French cotillions, which are danced in all polite circles, to please you we were obliged to dance your Scotch reels'* to a tune which our fiddler soon caught by ear ; not a very difficult matter. All that it requires is, to grasp the strings of the violin, and imitate the noise that cats might make if you thrust them into your pocket, and pulled them out again by the tail." " Come, you sad fellow, you," said the captain to Ju^es, " and eat your soup with me to-morrow, and your friend also ; at the same time you can make your peace Avith ray family." " Tliji is what may be called speaking to the purpose," said Jules. " There he is at his jokes again," said Marchcterre. As it was very late, they had to separate after diinkin^Tf to the ! ealth of Marcheterre and his son, giving them the meed of praise which both had so well earned. The young men were obliged to pass several days at St. Thomas. The ice continued to descend the * Scotch reels, which the habitants called cos-reels, Vfere, to ir/ own knowledge, danced in the country places, seventy years ago. M^dt likely the Highlanders, who were ai passionately fond of dancing as l.e Cana- dians, introduced them soon after the conquest. A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOu'S. 81 river, the roads were flooded, the nearest bridge, even supposing that it had not been destroyed, was some leagues to the south-west of the village, and the rain was falling in torrents (c). They were obliged to wait till the river should be sufficiently free of ice 10 allow of their crossing in a boat at the foot of the falls. They divided their time between the de Beau- mont family, their other friends, and poor Dumais, who had a long illness at the Seignior's house, for the latter would not allow him to be moved before he was perfectly cured. The sick man related to them his fights with the English and their savage allies, and told them a great deal about the manners and customs of the aborigines, with whom he had associated a good deal. " Although a native of St. Thomas, I was brought up," he said to them one day, " in the parish of Sorel. I was ten years old and my brother nine, when a party of Iroquois surprised us in the woods where we were gathering strawberries, and took us prisoners. After a somewhat long march, we came to their canoe, which had been hidden in the brushwood near the shore, and they took us across to one of the numerous islands which border the river St. Law- rence.* Some one gave the alarm to my family, and my father, with his three brothers, all armed to the teeth, started in pursuit of them. They were but four against ten, but without boastiug I may say that my father and uncles were men that I would not advise any one to spit in the face of. They v ere tall, well-made men, with open chests and broad shoulders. It might be about six o'clock in the evening ; my brother and I were sitting in the middle of our enemies, in a little glade, surrounded by tufted wood, * My good friend the late monsi-jur Boissonnault, cure of St. Jean Port- Joli> told me, that when he rras serving the parish of Sorel, he had known one of the two brothers whom their father and uncles had rescued from a band of Iroquoi!*, ia the same manner. Every time that this man related the adrenture; ue never failed to add : " My father and uncles were men ia who?s laces I would not advise any one to spit. " *'And " monsieur Boisson- nault would add « 1 should not have advised any one to offer such an insuJt to my interlocutor, old as he was." 6 82 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. when we heard my father's voice calling to us ; ' Lie flat down on the ground.' I immediately laid hold of my little brother (who was crying and whom I had been trying to comfort) and dragged him flat down on the ground with me. The Iroquois had hardly started to their feet when four well-aimed shot& struck down four of them, who rolled on the ground like eels. The other canouaches (a term of contempt,) not wishing, I suppose, to fire at random, upon invisible foes, to whom they themselves would serNre as marks, seemed to be making for the shelter of the trees, but our deliverers did not give them time to reach them, for falling on them with tomahawks, they felled three of them at one swoop, and the rest took flight, without the conquerors caring to pursue them. In all haste we were taken back lo our mother, who thought she would have died for joy at once more embracing us." Locheill sho related to the sick man the battles of the Scotch i uountaineers, as well as their manners and customs, and the almost fabulous exploits of his herOj Wallace ; whilst Jules amused him by the recital of his own escapades, and related several historical anecdotes that were full of interest to him. When the young men bade farewell to Dumais, he said to Archy, with tears in his eyes : " Most likely, sir, I shall never see you again ; but rest assured that I shall never forget you, and that I, my wife and my children, will pray for you every day of our lives. It pains me to think that even supposing you should come back to New France, a poor man like me can never have a chance of proving his gratitude to you." " Who knows," said Locheill, " perhaps you may be able to do more for me than I have done for you." Did the Scotch mountaineer possess the gift of second sight of which his countrymen boast ? The sequel of this story will show. The travellers left their St. Thomas friends, the thirtieth of April, at about ten o'clock in the morning. A SUPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOR'S. 83 The weather was magnificent, but the roads were frightfully bad. They had six leagues to travel before arriving at St.-Jean-Port-Joli, their destination ; a journey they had to perform on foot, inveighing against the rain which had made the last vestiges of snow and ice disappear. It was far worse when they got to the road that at that time crossed the savannah of Cape St. Ignace ;* they often sank up to their knees, and were frequently obliged to extri- cate the horse, who had stuck in the mud. Jules, the most impatient of the three, kept saying : " If I only had the ordering of the weather, we should not have had this devil's own rain, which has turned the roads into so many swamps ! " Perceiving at last that each time he said this, Jose shook his head reprovingly, he asked him the reason, " Ah, well ! do you see. Monsieur Jules," said Jose, " I am only a poor, ignorant man, without inducation, but for my part, I think that if you had the ordering of the weather, we should not be any better off; see what happened to Davy Larouche." " You shall tell us Davy Larouche's adventure," said Jules, " when we shall have crossed this cursed savannah, from which I have some trouble to extricate myself, deficient, as I am, in the advantage of possessing the stork-like legs which adorn that proud Scotchman who is walking before us whistling a pibroch, music worthy of the roads we aie losing ourselves in." " How much would you give. )j said Archy, of " to the exchange your pigmy French legs for those * proud mountaineer ? ' " ■• Keep your legs," replied Jules, " for the first precipitate retreat you may liave to make before the enemy. " Having crossed the savannah, the young men asked for Jose's story. * Sixty years ago, at certain times of the year, it was by no means piudent to start on a journey, (unless on necessary business) without first ascertaining the state of the Cape mar! ■,:■■■:? $0 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. His missu» says he may, when tliu worlr is done up all ; So he runs out to the byre, and each cow beg ns to bawl. Fol dol, ice. So he runs out to the byre, and each cow begins to bawl, For he treads on Rougette's foot, and at fiarrS's horn does haul. Fol doi, (ko. For he treads on Rougette's foot, and at Barre's horn does haul. Then rushes to the stable, into each horse's stall. Fol dol, &c. Then rushes to the stable, into each horse's stall, And hastens to the house, when they were curried all. Fol dol, &c. And hastens to the house, when they were curried all. Puts on his new red vest, and coat with checks so small. Fol dol, (Sec. Puts an his new red vest, and coat with checks so small, His fine french shoes,* and cravat black with pattern like a shtwi. Fol dol. Sec, His fine french shoes, and cravat black with pattern like a ihawl. Then went to fetch his Lizzie dear, and took her to the ball. Fol dol, Sec, Then went to fetch his Lizzie dear, and took her to the ball. Where they shewed him to th3 door, for be could notdanoe at all. Fol dol. Sec. Where they shewed him to the door, for he could not dance Vt' 411. And kept the pretty Lizzie, his belle so straight and tall. Fol dol. Sec, * But that is a charming idyl !' exclaimed Archy laughing, * what a pity Jose has not studied, Canada would possess one more illustrious poet.' * To return to his defunct father's adventures,' said Jules, * I think that the old drunkard, after having defied the Corriveau, (which the habitants always look on as dangerous, the dead always avenging them- selves sooner or later,) fell asleep by the road-side just opposite to the Isle of Orleans, where such habi- tants as travel by night always see goblins. I think, I say, that he must have had a terrible night-mare, during which he thought he was assailed on the one 'K' Habitants still call the shoes that are bought in the shops << French Shoes." A SrPPER AT A CANADIAN SEIGNIOR'S, 01 hand by the island sorcerers, and on llie other by La Corriveau and her cage, (d) Jose, with his prolific imagination, must iiave made up the rest, for you see how he turns everything to the best advantage • the fine picture from your supernatural history, nua liie Cyclops from my uncle the chevali'r's Virgil, were things that his defunct father had never heard of.' ' Poor Jose !' added Jules, how sorry I nin o have treated him so badly the other day ; I only knew it the next day, for I quite lost my senses when I saw you disappearing in the water. I begged him a thousand pardons, and he added, ' what ! yon are still thinking about that trifle, and if still pains you ! it delights me ; on the contrary, now that all the up- roar is over, it even makes me feel young again by recalling to my mind your fits of temper when you were a little child, when you used to scratch and bite like a little imp, and when I used to run off with you in my arms to save you from your parents' correc- tions ; when your anger was passed, you used to cry, and would bring me all your playthings to comfort me.' ' Excellent Jose what fidelity ! what attachment to my family under all circumstances. Men, with hearts as hard as the nether millstone, too often despise those in Jose's humble station, without themselves possessing one of their fine qualities. The most precious gift that the Creator has made to man, is that of a good heart ; even if its possession causes us many griefs, these pains are compensated by the sweet enjoy- ments that it brings us.' The conversation of Jules d'Haberville, which was generally so frivolous and light, became subdued by feelings of the most exquisi e sensibility, in proportion as the travellers approached the seignorial manor of St. Jean Port Joly, whose roof they perceived by the light of the stars. ,%. i^. ^^y:o. V.W. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I ■^ 1^ |2.2 1.8 1 1-25 ||.4 |i.6 11= i = < 6" ► 3%, % >> '/ /^ Photographic Sdenres Corporation 33 WKT MAIN STRUT WEBSTIR.N.Y. MSM (716)«72-4S03 m 92 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. CHAPTER VII. -<$©^>- Je benis le iwleil, je benis la lane et lea astres qui etoilent le ciel. Je benis aussi lea petita oiaeaux qui gazouillent dans I'air. Hbnri Heins. THE D HABERVILLS MANOR. The d'Haberville manor was situated at the foot of a headland, which occapied the space of about nine acres of the seigniorial domain, to the south of the royalty road. This headland or promontory, of about a hundred feet in height, was highly picturesque ; its crest, covered with resinous wood, preserving its verdant hue during the winter, offered a favorable con- trast witi; the sombre spectacle presented at this season of the year by the rest of the country, now wrapt in its winter winding sheet. The evergreens gave repose to the weary eye, which would otherwise for six months have rested only on those bare trees, less favored by nature, and which covered the declivity and foot of the promontory. Jules d'Haberville often com- pared these emerald-headed trees, proudly braving the rigors of the ^^est seasons, to the great and powerful of the turth, who lose none of its enjoy- ments ; whilst the poor tremble under their feet. It seemed as if the pencil of a Claude Lorrain had delighted to embellish the sides and the foot of this headland, so great was the variety of trees which appeared to have given each other a rendez-vous from all parts of the adjacent forests, in order to heighten the beauty of the landscape. The elm, the maple, the birch, the beech, the red pine, the ash, the wild THE D'HABERVILLE MANOR. 08 cheny-tree, the cedar, the mascouabina and other aboriginal trees which are the pride of our forests, foinied a rich hanging on the steeps of this promon- tory. A grove of venerable maples completely occupied the space between the foot of the promontory and the royalty road, bordered on each side by rows of hazel trees, and early flowering rose trees. The first thing which struck a traveller arriving on the d'Haberville estate, was a brook which, after falling down the south-east declivity of the promontory through the trees, mingled its limpid waters with those of a spring two hundred feet lower down, and winding across a large meadow, lost itself in the river St. Lawrence. This spring, cut out of the solid rock, and fed by the crystalline water which filters drop by drop through the stones, famished the proprietor of the domain with the coolest and most refreshing beverage during the heat of summer. A small white-washed building was erected over this spring in the shade of the large trees. It seemed like a coy nymph to be hiding itself from all beholders in the thick foliage which sur- rounded it. The seats, placed boih outside and inside this humble kiosk, «s well as the cassotf (of birch bark bent into a conical form) which were hung oil the wall, seemed so many invitations offered by the generous naiad to travellers rendered thirsty by the heat of the dog-days. The top of this promontory still preserves its emerald crown, and the declivity still preserves its verdure during the fine season of the year ; but there now hardly remain five maples, the last remnants of the magnificent grove which was the glory of this picturesque landscape. Out of the thirty-five which seemed so healthy torty years ago, thirty have fallen one by one, from year to year, as if through some fatality. These trees gradually perishing under the destructive hand of time, like the last years of the present proprietor of this domain, seem to foretell that nis life, linked to their existence, will expire with the 94 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. last veteran of the grove. When the lact log, which shall have warmed the chilled limbs of the old man, shall be consumed, his ashes will soon mix with those of the tree he will have burnt ; a mournful and sinister warning, like that of the catholic priest at the beginning of Lent ; memerUo homo quia pulvia e«, et in pulverem reverteris. The Seignorial manor, situated between the river St. Lawrence and the promontory, was only separated from the latter, by a large courtyard, the royalty road and the grove. It was a one-storied building with a steep roof, a hundred feet long, and flanked by two wings of fifteen feet, each projecting into the principal courtyard. A bake*house adjoining the kitchen to the north-east, served also as a wash-house. A little summer house, contiguous to a large drawing room to the south-west, gave some appearance of regularity to this mannor built after the old Canadian fashion. Two other out-buildings to the south*cast, served, the one, as a dairy, and the other as a second laundry, containing a well which communicated by means of a water-pipe with the kitchen of the main building. Coach-houses, barns and stables, five little out-houses of which three were in the grove, a kitchen garden to the south-east of the manor, two orchards, one to the north, and the other to the north-east, completed a picture which will give some idea of this Canadian seigniorial residence, which the habitants used to call the d*Haberville village. On whatever side a spectator seated on the summit of the cape might cast his looks, he could but con> gratulate himself on having chosen so elevated a post, however little he might be given to admiring the beauti- ful views which are to be found on the banks of the St. Lawrence. If he cast nis eyes downwards, the small da;^zlingly white village seemed to spring sud- denly from the green meadows which reached to the very border of the river. If, on the contrary, he raised them, an imposing panorama unfolded itself before his astonished gaze. There was the king of rivers, THE D'HABKRVILLE MANOR. 0» which at this jxiint iM already iicveu IcafnicN wide, to the north meeting with no othrr ob»taclo than the LaurcntideH whose feet it bathefi ; and which the eye takes in with all its villages from Cape Tourmente to Malbaie ; there were Ooom^ Island and Stork *» Island to the west; opposite there were the Pillars of which one \h as barren and as desert as the enchan> trees Ciree^ ifCusan rock, whilst the otiier is alwavs as green usCalypso^H island ; to tlu> north the Seals* shallows, at all times no dear to Canadian sports- men ; and lastly there wore the two villages of Islet and St. Jean-Port -J oii crowned by the steeples of their respective churches. It was nearly nine oV'lock in the evening, when the young men arrived on the hill which overlooks the manor to the south*east. Jules came suddenly to a stand at the sight of tlioxc objects which recalled to h'n mind the happiest days of his existence. "I have never approached " sold he "the domains of my ancestors, without being deeply impressed ! Let otluT« vaunt an they w ill the l>eauty of the mag- nificent and picturesque sites which aboun«i in Now France, for me therc Is but one," he exclaimed, stamping with his foot on the ground, " it is the one where I was bom ! It is hero wherf> iity childhood passed, surrounded by the tender and aifet*tionnte care of my good parents I It is here, where I have lived bclovi'il by every one ! The days seened too short, to suffice for my childish games ! I used to get up at day-breok and dress myself in all haste ; I had a thirst for enjoyment which re.Mfmbled the longings of fever." ** I love all that now surrounds me," added Jnles ; ** I love tlic moon, which you may st^e peeping through the trees which crown the suminit of that beautiful height, tfhe never seems to me so beautiful elsewhere ! I love this brook which used to turn the little wheels that I called my mills ! I love this spring, in which I used to quench my thirst during the heat ot summer ! It Is here that my mother used to sit," continued Jules, shewing a little rock covered with moss and shaded 06 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. by two superb beeches. *' It is here, that I used to take her the icy water which I had drawn from the spring in my little silver cup ! Ah ! how many times has not that tender mother, watching at my bedside or suddenly awakeend by my cries, given me in that same cup the milk of which I stood in need, or which through some childish whim I asked of her maternal tenderness ! And to think I must leave all ! perhaps for ever ! Oh, my mother ! my mother ! what a separation ! " And Jules shed tears. Locheill, deeply moved, pressed his friend's hand saying to him : " you will come back, my dear brother ; you will come back to be the happiness and pride of your family ! " " Thank you, dear Archy," said Jules, " but let us get on, my parents* embraces will quickly dissipate this feeling of sadness. " Archy who had never visited the country during the spring, asked the meaning of all the little white objects which stood out from the brown trunks of the maple trees. " Those," said Jules, " are little troughs which the sugar-maker* inserts underneath the incisions which he makes in the maple-trees, in order to catch the sap from which he makes the sugar." " Would one not say," said Archy, " that the trunks of these trees are immence hydraulic tubes, with spouts ready to inundate a populous city." This remark was cut short by the furious barking of a large dog which ran to meet them. *^ Niger ! niger ! " called Jules to him. At the sound of tibis friendly voice the dog suddenly stopped, started onwards again, sniffed at his master to assure him- self of his identity, and then received his caresses with that half joyful, half plaintive whine, which for want of speech expresses the love of this faithful and affectionate animal " Ah poor Niger," said Jules, " I perfectly under- stand what you mean to say, half of it is reproaching • In Canada the name of tucrier it given to those who mtke thi& iogK, THE D'flABERVILLE MANOR. 97 me for having so long forsaken you, and the other half expresses your pleasure at seeing me again, and grants me an amnesty for my ingratitude. Poor Niger ! when I come back from my long journey, you will not even have the happiness of dying at my feet like the dog of Ulysses ! " And Jules sighed. The reader will most probably like to make ac- quaintance with the members of the d'Haberville family. To satisfy so natural a wish, it is but right to introduce them in their hierarchical order. The Seigneur d'Haberville was hardly forty-live years of age, but he appeared to be at least ten years older; so much had the fatigues of campaigning worn out a naturally strong and robust constitution ; his duties as captain of a detachment of marines having constantly obliged him to be under arms. These continual wars in the forests, without any other shelter (to use the forcible expression of the Canadians of old,) than the compass of the sky, or the shelter of the heavens ; these expeditions of ambush or of surprisals against the English or the Indians during the most rigorous seasons, soon affected the strongest constitu- tions. Captain d'Haberville was physically what is called a fine man. His well shaped figure, for he was slightly over the middle height, his perfectly regular features, his bright complexion, large dark eves which he seemed to soften at will, but of which tew men could bear the glance when he was angry, his manners, simple in their elegance, all these together gave him a distinguished appearance. A severe critic, however, might have found some fault with his long and thick eyebrows, as black as ebony. Morally, the Seigneur d'Haberville possessed all those qualities which distinguished the well-bom Canadians of old. He might however be reproached on the score of vindict'veness by a stern moralist : for he hardly ever forgave either a real or an imaginary injury. Mme. d'Haberville, a good and' pious woman of six and thirty years of age, was entering that second 7 98 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. period of beauty which rncn often prefer to that of earij youth. Fair, and of a middle height, all her features were stamped with angelic sweetness. This excellent woman appeared to have hut one object, that of contributing to the happiness of all around her. The habitants in their simple language called her " the perfect lady." Mile. Blanche d'Haberville, younger than Jules, was the living image of her mother, but of a i^lig^Uy melancholy disposition. Gifted with intelligence beyond her years, she had great influence over her brother, whose fiery temper she often restrained with a look of entreaty. Although this young girl appeared very reserved she could shew surprismg energy when circumstances required it. Madame Louise de Beaumont, the younger sister of Mme. d'Haberville, had never separated from her since her marrage. Although rich and independent, she had nevertheless devoted herself to the family of her elder sister, for whom she entertained an affection that was quite touching. Ready to share their happi- ness she was equally ready to share their sorrows, if the cruel hand of misfortune should make itself felt by them. Lieutenant Haoul d'Haberville, or rather the Ch^e- valier d'Haberville, whom every one called " my uncle Raoul," was the younger brother of the Cap- tain ; and although two years younger than him, he looked at least ten years older. " My uncle Rapul,'' was a little man nearly as broad as he was long, and making use of a cane for walking ; any way he would have been very ugly, even without his face bavijM; been seamed with the small pox. It is very difflciij^ to say how he acquired his appellation of " my vndfi Raoul ;" one may say of a man that he looks fieUher^, he is quite a little pa]);i * but one never says of any one that he looks like an uncle. Whatever may haViQ. been the reason, Lieutenant d'Haberville was ^>my uiicle" to everybody; even his soldiers, when ho * TUE D'ilABERVILLE MANOR. W was on service, called him *■*■ my uncle Raoui " behind his back. If one may hf; allowed to compart; small things with great, it was like Napoleon, who was always " lo petit Caporal " to his old soldiers. '* My uncle Raoul " was the lettered man of the d'Ha- berville family, and therefore somewhat of a pedant like nearly all those who are in daily intercourse with those not so well educated as themselves. Though the best natured man possible when he got his own way, he had one little weakness, that of always thinking him- self in the right ; and this made him very irritable with those who were not of the same opinion as himself. My uncle Raoul prided himself on his knowledge of latin, and he often launched scraps of it at the heads of both the learned and the unlearned. He held endless discussions with the Cure of the parish on quotations from Horace, Ovid and Virgil, his favorite authors. The Cur6, a gentle quiet-tempered man, almost always yielded to his irritable antagonist for the sqke of peace and quiet. But uncle Raoul also prided himself on being a great theologian ; and this was far more embarrassing for the poor Cure. He had a great affection for the soul of his friend, who had been very wild during his youth, and whom he had had mucn trouble in leading into the right path. He was some- times obliged to yield points, which were not very essential to the salvation of " my uncle " cc as not to exasperate him. But when an important matter was in question he called Blanche to his assistance, as she was her uncle's idol. " What, my dear uncle " she would say, petting him " are you not learned enough without encroach- ing on our good pastor's attributes ; you triumph in all the other pomts of discussion," she would add looking significantly at the Cure, " so be generous and allow yourself to be convinced on points that are pecuUadiy the province of God's ministers." And as my uncle Raoul only argued for aKgument's «tUce, peace would soon be restored between the belligerent parties. 7* 100 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. My uncle Raoui waH a person of no nmall import- ance ; he was in certain renpcctH the niOHt important personage at the manor, since his retirement from the army ; (or tiie Captain whose military duties often compelled him to be long abrdunts in our days are to s[)end a pound. Although they were then most of'tiem rich, yet thev did not indulge in superfluities ; the produce of their land sufficed lor all their wants. When a rich habitant would marry his daughter, he would victimise himself for the occasion by buying her in the shops, a print dress, a pair of cotton stockings, and a pair of shoes ; which articles of dress would often descend to the bride's fjrtttttl- children. THE D'HABERVILLE MANOR. 107 from Christmas to Lent. It is a perpetual coming and going of visitors during that time. Four or five cctrioleSj* holding a dozen or so of people arrive ; they at once take out the horses, after having begged their friends to take off their things ; the table is got ready, and at the end of an hour, at the most, this same table is loaded with smoking hot meats." f " Your habitants," said Archy, " must then possess Aladdin's lamp !" " You understand," said Jules, " that if they had to make the preparations that we have, the habitants' wives, being for the most part, without servants, would soon be obliged to restrict their hospitality, or even put an end to it altogether, but it is not so ; they enjoy society with hardly any more trouble than their husbands.| The receipt is simple enough ; at their leisure they prepare two or three batches of different sorts of meats, which they have no trouble in keeping in that state^ on account of the cold weather. When visitors arrive, all they have to do is to warm up the eatables in their stoves, which are always hot enough to roast an ox at that time of year ; habitants detest cold' meats." " It is really a pleasure," added Jules, " to see our Canadian women, who are always so light-hearted, preparing these impromptu re)>asts ; to see them first working at one thing, then at another, all the time humming a song, or mixing in the conversation ; then running from the table they are laying to the meat which is beginning to burn, and with one hand's turn, putting every thing to rights ; then to * Cariole — a two-wheeled carriage, with a head, still much used in Lower Canada. stil tDigreyer or Digritr ; this term which is taken from sea-language is [ used in the country places. It means ''' take ofl* your great-coat, £c.'* What a generous ofTer of hospitality, to treat a friend like a ship being laid up for the winter. This expression comes from our Norman ancestors who were a great sea-faring nation. X Formerly habitants' wives very seldom kept servants 5 now-a-daya they frequently keep them. »! 108 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. see Josephte* sit down with her guests, getting up a dozen times during the meal if anything is wanted for them, singing her song, and after all enjoying herself as heartily as the others." " You will probably say, that these warmed-up dishes lose a good deal of their flavor ; this is true as regards ourselves, who are a*^customed to live so differently ; but as habit is second nature, our habi- tants are not so particular, and as their taste is not vitiated like ours, I am certain that their repasts, moistened with a few glasses of good brandy, are everything they can wish for. But as we shall be •obliged to return to this subject, let us now go and rejoin my parents, who must be already impatient at our absence, which I look on as so much time stolen from their affection. I thought you would like to be a little more initiated in our country Canadian man- ners and customs, particularly as you have not visited us before during the winter." The evening was prolonged far into the night, for they had so many things to say to one another. And it was only after receiving his father's blessing, and tenderly embracing his other relations, that Jules retired with his friend to enjoy that sluirber of which both stood so much in need after the fatigues of the day. * Josephte, a nickname given by (he townspeople to the habitant's wives. The bad wheat harvests that there have been for the last thirty years, and still more the temperance societies, have, in a great measure, put an end to tliis far too costly hospitality. MAY-DAY. 10» CHAPTER VIII. -«*e«>>- Le premier jour ilc niai : I.abotirez, Je m'en Au planter un mii : Labourez, A la porte a ma in- ' Auciennt, mson. MAY-DAY. It was hardly five o'cU>ck the next morning, when Jules (whose nature partook of that of the cat so lightly did he sleep) called to Locheill whose bedroom was adjoining liis own, that it was quite time to get up ; but whether the latter was really asleep, or whether he did not wish to answer, d'Haberville took the most expeditious means of arousing him, by getting up him- self. Then, arming himself with a' towel dipped in cold water, he entered his friend's room, and began his morning toilet for him, by roughly washing his face. But as Archv, notwithstanding his aquatic taste, did not relish these somewhat officious attentions, he snatched the instrument of torture from his hands, and making it into a ball threw it at his head, then turn- ing on to his side he was preparing to go to sleep again, when Jules, darting to the foot of the bed, pulled off all the clothes. Reduced to this extremity the citadel was obliged to surrender at discretion, but as the garrison in the person of Archy was stronger than the besiegers in the person of Jules, Locheill gave him a good shaking and asked him with some temper if people at Habcrville were not allowed to sleep at night. He was even going to finish by expelling him from the ramparts, when Jules, who even while no THE CANADIANS OF OLD. .struggling in the powerful arms of his adversary, was in (its of laughter, begged him to have the kindness to listen, before inflicting so humiliating a punishment on a future soldier of the French army. " What have you to say in your own defence, you incorrigible rascal," said Archy who was now thoroughly awake " is it not enough to be always playing the devil by day, without coming to torment me at night ? " " I am very sorry indeed," said Jules, " to have aroused you from your sleep, but as our folks have to plant another may-pole at the cross near which Belanger lives, at about two miles from here, it is arranged that my father's is to be presented to him at six o'clock in the morning, and if you do not wish to lose any part of this interesting ceremony, it is time to dress yourself. You know that I think every one must be like myself, in taking interest in every thing that brings us with our good habitants : I know nothing more striking than the good feeling which exists between my father and his tenants, between our family and these fine fellows. Besides, as my brother by adoption, you will have your part to play during a spectacle which you have never as yet wit- nessed." As soon as the young men were dressed, they went from their room into one which looked out on the court-yard of the manor house, where an animated scene presented itself. It was filled by about a hun- dred habitants, distributed here and there in UtUe groups. Their long guns, their powder flasks sua- pended from their necks, their tomahawks stuck m their girdles, the hatchets with which they wepe armed, all these gave them more the appearance oi people preparing for a warlike expedition, than that of peaceable husbandmen. Locheill who was much amused at the novel sight, proposed descending to join the groups which wQre surrounding the house, but Jules prevented him !>▼ saying that it was against etiquette, as they were •» MAYDAY. Ill gupposcd not to be aware of what was passing with- out, where all was stir and bustle. Some were busy dressing the may-pole, others digging a deep hole in which to plant it, whilst others again were sharpening long wedges to hold it firm. This may-pole was of the most primitive simplicity. It was a tall fir tree, stripped of its branches and twigs as far as the cius- ter of foliage at the top which is called the bouquet ; this bouquet^ generally about three feet high, but al- ways in proportion with the height of the tree, looked very nice as long as it continued green, but after being dried up by the heat of summer, by the month of August it was dismal-looking enough. A red pole, six feet long, crowned \\ ith a green vane and adorned with a large ball of the same color as the pole, was fastened among the branches of the bouquet; and when this was once nailed to the tree, the dressing of the may-pole was completed. We must also add that strong wedges of wood, let into the tree at intervals, made it easy to mount, and they also served as ful- crums for the stakes with which they raised the pole. The firing of a gun, from the principal door of the manor house, announced that every thing was in rea- diness. At this signal, the d'Haberville family gathered in the drawing-room, in order to receive the deputation of whose arrival the shot gave them notice. The Seignior d'Haberville took his place in a large arm chair, the Seignioress seated herself on his right and Jules on his left. My uncle Raoul standing and leaning on his sword, placed himself behind the prin- cipal group, between Madame Louisa de Beaumont and Blanche, who were seated on chairs. Archy stppd by the side of the young Seignioress. They had hardly taken their places when two old. men, ushered in by the majordomo Jose, advanced towards the Seignior d'Haberville, and saluting him with that graceful courtesy, so natural to the Canadians of old, sudced permission to plant a may-pole before his door. Tjhe permission being granted, the ambassadors with- drew and communicated the success of their mission 112 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. I to the crowd outside. They then all knelt down to ask God to preserve them from all accidents during the day.* Then, in about a quarter of an hour's time, the may-pole rose slowly and majestically above the crowd, till its verdant head towered above all the surrounding buildings. A few minutes sufficed to make it firm. A second shot announced another d< putation, the same two old men carrying their guns, and accom- panied by two of the principal habitanti:^ bearing, the one Oil an earthenware plate, a small glass two inches high of a greenish hue, and the other a bottle of brandy, were ushered in by the indispensable Jos6, and begged of Mons. d'Haberville to come and receive the may-pole he had been so kind as to accept. Upon their Sei- gnior gracefully accepting their invitation one of the old men added : " Would our Seignior be pleased to water the may before blackening it ?" And upon this, he presented him the gun with one hand, and with the other a glass of brandy. " We will water it together my good friends" said Mons. d'Haberville, making a sign to Jos§, who standing at a respectful distance with four glasses filled with the same liquor on a salver, handed it to them. Then the Seignior rising, touched glasses with the four deputies, swallowed at one gulp the glass of brandy which he pronounced excellent, and taking the gun went to the door followed by all who were present. As soon as the Seignior d'Haberville appeared on the threshold, a young man, mounting to the very top of the may-pole with the agility of a squirrel, spun the vane round three times, crying out : " Long live the King ! long live Seignior d'Haberville ! " And all the crowd shouted at the top of their voices : " Long * This pious custom or the habitants ofsaying a prayer before beginning any work 'Which exposes them to danger such as putting on the roofoi a house, &ti., exists to this day. It is a touching sight to see them all uncover their heads and kneel down, whilst some old man recites prayers, to which all make response. inn MAY-DAY. 118 live the King! long live the Seignior d'Haberville !" Whilst this was going on, the young fellow descended with equal agility, cutting away with his tomahawk which ho drew from his belt, all the wedges and stakes of the may-pole. As soon as the Seignior d'Haberville had blackened *^e may-pole by firing ofl' at it his gun charged only with powder, a gun was presented to every member of the family in succession, commencing by the Seignio- ress ; and the women fired at it the same as the men.* Then there was a constant firing kept up for at least half an hour. One might have thought that the manor- house was attacked by the enemy. The uitfortunate may-pole, which had been so white before this furious attack, seemed to have been suddenly painted black, so great had been every one's zeal to do it honor. Indeed, the more powder was burned, the more they thought they were complimenting the one to whom they had presented the may-pole. As every pleasure must come to an end, even that of throwing powder to the winds, Mons. d'Haberville profited by a moment when the firing seemed to slacken, to invite all present to breakfast. Every one then made haste to discharge his gun by way of a temporary adieu to the poor tree, fragments of which already strewed the ground ; and then all was silent f The Seignior, the ladies and a dozen of the princi- pal habitants, chosen from the older ones, sat down to a table prepared in the usual dining-room of the family This table was covered with the dishes, Tvines, and coffee which usually were to be found on the breakfast table of a Canadian in the best society ; there were also added to suit the taste of their guests, two bottles of excellent brandy and sugared galettes instead of bread.| * The Canadian women who were constantly exposed to surprisab from the Indians knew well how to make use of fire-arna when there was any necessity for so doing. , t This custom, of disfiguring the may-poles, still existed during the author's childhood ; but it ceased when the habitants substituted for them, the handsome eight-sided ones of which tbete are still some few rtemaiMiay. t One has to beg and pray for bread at a rich habitant's table if it iatht 8 If ■m [.'•t. . 114 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. The guests who were excluded from this table, saw no reason to be discontented at this arrangement, on the contrary they were proud of the attentions bes- towed on their older relations and friends. The second table in the adjoining room, presided over by *' my uncle Raoul," was served like that of a rich and ostentatious habitant under similar circum- stances. Besides the enormous number of dishes of meat witli which the reader is already acquainted, each guest had by his side the inevitable sugared galettCj a croquecignole, a tartlet of five inches in dia- meter, with more paste than preserve, and as much brandy as they could wish for. There were some bottles of wine on the table to which no one paid any attention ; " that does not rasp ones throat enough," they said in their forcible language. This wine had been put on the table more for the women, who just then were occupied in waiting on the men, but would replace them after they had left. Josephte took a glass or two of wine, without being asked twice ; but this was after the accustomed little glass of brandy to give them an appetite. At the third table, which was spread in the large kitchen, Jules presided, assisted by his friend Archy. This table at which all the young fellows had seated themselves, was served exactly like my uncle Raoul's. Although at the two first tables, the greatest merri- ment reigned, there was nevertheless a certain res- traint ; but at the young Seignior's, more especially towards the end of the meal, which was prolonged late into the morning, there was such an uproar that they could not he ar themselves speak. The reader is under a great mistake if he thinks that the unhappy may-pole was allowed to repose itself after the murderous assaults already made on it ; the guests kept getting up from table, and running to discharge their guns, hastened to replace themselves at table after this little act of courtesy. day of a wedding or any other rejoicing, the answer always is ''But sir^ suiely gaiitte is better than bread.'' MAY-DAY. 115 At the beginning of the dessert, the Seignior d'Ha- berville, accompanied by the ladies, visited the guests of the second and third tables, where they were re- ceived with great demonstrations of joy. There was a kind word for every body ; the Seignior drank to the health of his tenants, the tenants drank to his health and that of his family, in the middle of at least twenty gunshots that were neard sounding from with- out. This ceremony ended, Mons. d'Haberville, on returning to the table was asked for a little song, and every one prepared to join in the chorus. The Seignior iTHaberviUe^s song. Ah ! is not wine : Wine, wine, wine A fine and rare invention ! To satisfy my pasffiou Let us drink its juice divine : Shame to him who will not sip Nor press the nectar to his lip : Lip, lip, lip ; Shame to him who will not 4ip Hot press the nectar to his lip ! For when I steep : Steep, steep, steep My throat in this bewild'ring draught. It seems into my heart to wafl A joy that makes it madly leap : Shame to him, who will not sip Nor press the nectar to his lip ! Lip, lip, lip ; Shame to him who will not - tp Nor preiis the oectar to his lip ! * This song was hardly finished, when ancle RaouPs sonorous voice was heard singing the following : Ah i ye?, I dearly love a glass : A mania 'tis with me : My word for this I frankly pass ; My lolly all may see : A toper leads a lite divine Need never feel uneasy ; May gaily toast the gba of wine Ana always take life easy. * The author thought he ought to record some of the old drinking songs, which were sung in his childhood ; many of these songs, recall the merry makings, wiiich alas t too oAen degenerated into excesses, and to whico tke temperance societies have happily put an end. 7* 116 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. I "i-w Ah ! yes, I dearly love a glaM, A mania 'tit with me ; My word for this I frankly paaa: My folly all may aee. To the war let Joseph go And bravely in the batile utand. The only strile I luve to know la one that's luiiglii with glass in hand. Ah ! yes, I dearly love a glass, &o. " It is now your turn, our young Seignior, they ex- claimed at the third table ; our elders have set us the example ! " " With all my heart, said Jnles ; and he entoned the following song : Bacchus, seated on a cask, Forbade me evermore to ask, Water from the well or spring. Ev'ry bottle we must empty ; *Tia of wine, new wine alone ; Ev'ry flagon we must empty. Whilst they spin, the dames and lasses, The men and youths shall quaflf their glasses ; And they shall drink full bumpers. 'Tisofwine, dec. The noble amphitryons having once set the example, every one hastened to profit by it, and songs suc- ceeded each other, with ever increasing excitement. That of the pdre Chouinardy (an old French soldier, who had retired from the service) in which love played a conspicuous part, without at all neglecting his brother Bacchus, met with the greatest success. P^e Chouinard^s song. Between Paris and Samt-Denis (bis) 1 met a pretty girl At the door of a cabaret, And with her I went in. MAYDAY. 117 HoiteM draw ui aome good wine ; The beat in the cellar ; And if we cannot pay you now, We'll promise you • pledge. (bia) But what pledge will you promise me 7 (bia) A fine large scarlet cloak To cut up into petticoats And give to the youngsters. Oh 1 Sir and Ma'am please to walk up, (bis) Into the room above : And there you'll find to wait on yoa iJome pretty German girls. German Girls ! I'll none of them : I will have none but French, Who alwaya have such merry heart* When filling up our glass. And all the men's voices from three tables repeated in chorus : I will hare none but French, Who always have such merry hearts, When filling up our glass. The pdre Chouinard having succeeded in putting an end to this gallant demonstration and having obtained a moment's silence, suggested that it was time to disperse. In warm terms, he thanked the Seignior d'Haberville for his hospitality, and proud of tke success of his song, he proposed to drink anew to the health of the ladies of the manor-house, which proposition was hailed with enthousiasm by the numerous guests. The joyous party then marched off singing " I will have none but French " to the nccompaniment of gun- shots, which the echoes from the cape repeated long after their departure. f 118 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. CHAPTER IX. — ;$i&$>- THE FEAST OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST. Formerly every parish kept the feast-day of its patron saint. The holyday of St. John the Baptist, the patron saint of the parish of St. Jean-Port-Joli, which fell during the finest season of the year, dit not fail to attract a great concourse of pilgrims, not only from the neighborhood, but also from great distances. The Canadian habitants generally so much occupied with their rustic labors, had just, at that time, a little leisure, and the fine weather tempted them to profit by it. In every household there were great prepa- rations for this solemn festival. Every where there was house-cleaning and while-washing going on, as well as scrubbing the floors and covering them with boughs of spruce ; the " fatted calf" was killed, and the storekeepers had good sale for their liquors. On the 23rd June, the eve of St. John the Baptist, every house from the manor house and presbytery downwards, were filled with numerous pilgrims. It was the Seignior who presented the " blessed bread" and selected from among his friends, two young ladies and two young gentlemen, (who were invited from Quebec a long time previously) to make the collection during the high mass which was cele- brated in honor of the patron saint of the parish. It was no slight matter preparing the " blessed bread " and its accessory cousins, (a kind of cake) for the crowds who thronged, not only within the edifice, but also without, for the doors were all thrown open, so as to allow every one to participate in .the holy sacrifice. THE FEAST OP ST. JOHN BAPTISTE. 119 It was an understood thing that the Seignior and his friends should dine that day at the presbytery, and that the cure and his friends should sup at the manor house. A great number of the habitants, whose homes were too distant to return to between mass and vespers, took their meal in the little wood of cedar, fir and spruce which covered the valley, between the church and the river St. Lawrence. Nothing could be more picturesque than these groups, seated on the moss or the cool grass, around table-cloths of dazzling whiteness, which were spread on this carpet of verdure. The cure and his guests never failed to visit these groups, and exchange some words of friendship with the leading members of them. On every side there were little booths, like wigwams, covered with branches of maple, and various other trees, where refreshments were sold. The vendors kept continually crying out in a monotonous voice, strongly accenting the first and last words " A la bonne biere ! au bon raisin ! a la bonne pimprenelle ! " (good beer ! good grapes ! good peppermint !) And fathers and lovers, excited by the occasion, slowly drew forth, from their pockets, the wherewithal to regale the children and the " creatures." The country Canadians had inherited from their norman ancestors a very touching custom ; it was that of lighting a bonfire at nightfall on St. John's Eve. An octagonal pyramid, of about ten feet in height, was erected opposite the principal entrance to the church ; this pyramid, covered with branches of fir, stuck into the interstices of the logs of cedar of which it was built, had & very picturesque effect. The cur§, accompanied by his clergy, issuing from the church- door recited the usual prayers, blessed the pyramid and with a taper lighted one of the little heaps of straw which were placed at each of the eight corners of the verdant cone. The flamme then rose sparkling, amidst joyous cries, and the spectators, firing off" guns, did not disperse, till the whole pile was entirely consumed. Blanche d'Haberville, her brother Jules and Lo- W' § it 120 THE CANADIANS OP OLD. cheill did not fail to be present at this joyous cere- mony, as well as ' my uncle Raoul,' upon whom it wau incumbent to represeait his brother, detained at home by the rites of hospitality. An ill-natured person, looking at poor dear uncle Raoul leaning on his sword and standing a little in advance of the others, might perhaps have been tempted to compare him to the deceased Vulcan of limping memory, particularly when the blaze of the burning logs lit up all his person with a purple hue ; still, this did not prevent him thinking himself the most important personage present. There was another most powerful reason for ' my uncle Raoul ' being present at the bonfire, and this was that it was the day for the public sale of salmon. On that day every habitant, who had a fishery, took the first salmon he had caught, and sold it at the church door, for the benefit of the good souls ; that is to say he caused masses to be said for the deliverance of the souls in purgatory, with whatever money it fetched. As the crier announced the object to which the money* realised was to be applied, every one did his best to bid up the price of the fish. There is nothing more beautiful that this communion between catholics, and those of their kindred and friends that death has taken from them, their solicitude extending even to the invisible world. Our brethren of other forms of wor- ship, like ourselves, shed bitter tear over the grave that hides those dearest to them on earth from their view ; but there cease their tender cares ! When I was a child, my mother always made me finish my prayers with this appeal to tho divine mercy ; " Oh ! my God ! grant that my grandfather and grand- mother may attain to thy holy paradise ! " I was then praying for relations who were unknown to me, and but few in number ; alas ! now, at the end of a long career, how many should I not he obliged to add 1^ Thi* custom, which was formerly so prevalent, has not yet fallen quite into disuse ; by way of thanking God fo; their prosperity, our habitants stiil sell the first fruits of their land at the door of the church (when the congre- gation is coming out) and apply the proceeds as already mentioned. THE FEAST OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST. 121 to the li t, were I to enumerate all those dear ones, who are now no more ! Night had long closed in, when ' my uncle Raoul^' Blanche, Jules and Locheill left the presbytery where they had been supping. The poor dear uncle who had some smattering of astronomy, explained the wonders of the ethereal vault to his niece whom he was driving in his carriage, but the youg men did not profit much by these treasures of astronomical science to the great disgust of the extempore professor, who taxed then with slyly spurring on their steeds who were far more rational than their riders. The young men, full of life, and drinking in enjoyment at every pore, on this magnificent evening, in the midst of the forest, excused themselves as they best could, and then recommenced their tricks, in spite of reiterated signs from Blanche, who, loving her uncle dearly, tried to avoid everything that might displease him. The way home was indeed the more agreeable, for the royalty road winded through woods, which, from time to time, intercepted their view of the St. Lawrence, (whose sinuous course they followed,) till an opening again disclosed to them its silvery waves. At one of these glades, which gave to view the whole panorama from Cape Tourmente to Malbaie, Locheill could not restrain an exclamation of astonish- ment, and addressing my uncle Raoul said : " Will you, sir, who explain so well the wonders of the heavens, be pleased to cast your looks earth- ward, and tell me the meaning of all those lights appearing simultaneously on the north coast, as fas as the eye can reach ? Faith ! I begin to believe our friend Josh's legend ; Canada seems indeed to be the land of the imps, goblins, and genii with which my nurse rocked my infancy in the Scoth mountains. " Ah," said my oncle Raoul, " let us stop a moment here ; those are the folks on the north coast, who, on St. John's Eve, write to their friends and relations on the south coast. They use neither ink nor pen to give their news ! Let us begin by Les Eboulement^ ;. 122 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. 1: eleven adults have died in that parish since the autumn, three of whom were in the same house, that of my friend Dufour ; the amall-pox or some other malignant disease, must have visited the family, for the Dufours are fine men, and in the prime of life ! The Tremblays are well, I am glad of that, for they are good people. There is some one ill at Bonneau^s, probably it is the grandmother, for she is very aged. There is a child dead at Belair's ; I think it was their only one, for they have not been very long married." My uncle Raoul went on thus for some time, as- certaining how his friends were at Les Eboulements, He aux Coudres, and the Little River. " I think I understand," said Lochelll, " without however having the key to it ; these are signals which are previously agreed upon, and by which the habi- tants communicate interesting intelligence from one shore of the river to the other." " Yes," replied my uncle Raoul, " and if we were on the north shore we should see similar signals from the south shore. If the fire which is once lighted, or which is being fed, burns for a long time without being extinguished, it is good news ; if it burns with a half smothered flame, it is a sign of sickness ; if it is at once extinguished il is a ; sign of death. So many times as it is suddenly extinguished, so many deaths are there. For an adult there is a large 2 blaze ; for a child, a small one. The means of com- munication being somewhat rare even in summer, and ertirely suspended daring the winter, man, with his usual ingenuity, has invented a very simple substitute. " The same signals," continued my imcle Raoul, " are known by all sailors, who in cases of shipwreck make use of them to communicate their distress. No later than last year, five of our best hunters would have died of hunger, on the Loup-Marins flats, but for their knowledge of this code of signals. Towards the middle of March, there was so sudden a change of weather as to give every reason to believe that spring had arrived. The ice disappeared from the river, i..,./|. THE FEAST OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST. 123 and the bustards, wild geese, and ducks, made their appearance in great numbers. Five ofour hunters, well furnished with provisions (for our climate is trea- cherous in Canada) started for the flats ; the bustards were in such abundance, that they left their provisions in the boat, which they hastily tied opposite the hut, so as to hasten to take their station in the channel where they had to bore before the ebbing of the tide. I suppose you know that what is called boring^ is digging a ditch in the mud, about three or four feet deep, in which the hunter conceals himself in order to be in wait for the game which is very shy, more particularly the bustard and wild goose It is not a very agreeable sport, for often you have to remain seven or eight hours crouching down on your heels in these holes, accompanied by your dog. You are in no want of something to kill the time, for in some places you have lo be perpetually emptying out the muddy water, which threatens lo drown you. " All was ready, and our sportsmen were looking forward to being amply recompensed for their dis- comforts at the rising of the tide, when all at once there arose a fearful storm. Tiie snow driven by the wind, fell so thick that the hunters could not see the game at three fathoms distance from them. Our friends having patiently waited until the rising of the tide drove them from their trenches, returned to their hut, sorely against their will. A sad sight awaited them; their boat had beon carried away by the tempest, and the only provisions remaining for the five men, consisted of one loaf and a bottle of brandy, which they had placed in their hut on their first arrival, so that they might be able to take a glass and a mouthful of bread, before starting on their chase. They held a council and determined to lay down without supper ; the snow storm might last three days, and it would be impossible for them there, midway between the two shores, (at least three leagues from either) to make their signals of distress visible to those on land. They were therefore obliged to eco- 124 THE CANADIANS OF OLD. 'fei ': nomizc tlicir food. Alas ! they were completely out in their reckoning ; there ensued a regular second winter, the cold became intense, the snow storm lasted a week, and at the expiration of that time the river was covered with ice as in January. " They then began lo make signals of distress which were indeed seen from both shores of the St. Lawrence, but it was quite impossible to send help. To the signals of distress, there succeeded those of death. Every evening the tire was lighted and then extinguished ; the death of three of the cast-aways had already been thus registered, when some of the habitants touched with compassion, attempted, at the peril of their lives, everything that could be done by brave and self-devoted men. It was all in vain ; the river was so covered with ice that the stream carried the canoes either to the north-east or to the south-west, following the flow and ebb of the tide, without taking them any nearer to the scene of the disaster. It was only on the seventeenth day that they received succor from some men of the Ile-aux-Coudres, who bad managed to bring up their canoe there. On their arrival, the habitants not hearing any sound in the hut, concluded that all the hunters must be dead. However they were all alive, though quite exhausted. After the usual means had been resorted to, to revive them, they were soon on their legs again, but they all determined (though somewhat too late) that another time when they landed on an island, even in the summer, the first thing they would do, would be to place their boat out of all danger from the tide." (a) My uncle Raoul having spoken at some length, ended, like every one else, by being silent. " Do you not think, my dear uncle," said Blanche, " that this fine calm evening, a song would add much to the charm of v.ar drive, by the side of the prince of rivers ? " Oh yes, a song ! " said the young men. This was taking the chevalier on his weak side. He did not need to be asked twice, and sang with THE FEAST OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST. 135 his magnificent tenor voice the following song, which was a particular favorite of his, as he had been a noted sportsman before he was wounded. Although (as he ackiiowledged) it sinned against the niles of versification, he contended that its lively pictures and great originality more than compensated lor its faults. My uncle Eaotd^s song. Whilst late at eve I wander'd forth Along a thicket's hidden path, Chasing the partridge and the snipe Through this charming wood, I thought amidst the rushes I might take aim ; In readiness I held my gun To shoot at one. To the warning voice I listene'd Of my dog, the h inter's friend. On I went, and aloud I cried Those rushes beside ; Soflly and tenderly I sang Whilst going my rounds. Descrying whim I there did rove A quarry of love. I saw a damsel of beauty rare Within that wood so fair, By the way-side she was sitting Gently reposing ; I, just then, let off my gun Close to my fair one. With startled scream the sound she greeted Which the woods repeated. My own sweet heart, I said to her. Quite gently thus, I spoke to her, 1 am but a brave hunter Of me, pray hawB no fear. On seeing you, my lovely one Here all alone, I would your trusty guardian be And treat you tendierly. Oh ! soothe my fears awhile I pray, And my alarm, oh ! chase away. The night has me o'ertaken here, I've wander'd far and near. Show me I pray the nearest road To my nistic abode. For 'mthout you, from hence, dear Sir, Alive 1 could not stir. 126 THE CANADIANS OF CLD. Fair one ! let me take your hand CloM 'ly doth the Village stand, I can do you, this slight rieasure For I have leisure ; But before you haste away My pretty one, W iir you not please to grant me this Just one, sweet kiss? To refuse you, would be hard, For you ment a reward, Take then two or even three As best (ileaseth thee : You succor'd me so cneerfully Such service gavt That too much honor 'twas for me. Farewell, .... heartily I " The devil !" said Jules " Sir Knight, you go right into the thing ! I would bet any money that you were a terrible fellow among the women in your young days, and must have made many victims ! come, my dear uncle, am I not right ? do pray tell us some of your deeds of prowess." *' Ugly, ugly, my dear fellow " replied my uncle Raoul bridling up, " but I took amongst the women." Jules was going to continue in the same strain, but seeing the looks of entreaty directed towards him by his sister, who was biting her lips to prevent laughing, he repeated the end of the last verse : You succor'd me so cheerfully. Such service save That too much honor, 'twas for me. Farewell, .... heartily. The young men were going on singing in chorus, when on arriving at a clearing, they perceived a fire burning in the wood, at a short distance from the road. " It is the witch of this domain " said my uncle Raoul. " I have always forgotten to ask why she is called the witch of this domain " said Archy. " Because she has established her favorite domicile in these woods, which were formerly on the d'Haber- ville estate," replied my uncle Raoul, " my brother THE FEAST OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST. 127 has exchanged it for the present domain, in order to be nearer his mill at Three-Salmons." " Let us go and pay a visit to poor Mary," said Blanche, " in my childhood she used every spring to bring me the earliest flowers of the forest, and the first strawberries of the season." My uncle Raoul made some objections on the score of the lateness of the hour, but as he could never refuse his charming niece anything, they fastened their horses at the entrance of a copse and approched the sorceress. Poor Mary's dwelling did not in any respect re- semble that of the sybil of Cumes, nor that of any other sybil ancient or modern. It was a log hut, the beams unfinished and hung within with moss of different colors, whilst, without, its conical roof was covered with birch-bark and branches of spruce. Mary, seated at the door of the hut on a fallen tree, was watching some meat cooking in a frying pan, which she held over a fire that was surrounded by stones to prevent it from spreading. She paid no attention to the visitors, but according to her usual custom, went on with a conversation she had com- menced with an invisible being, behind her, to whom she kept repeating incessanay making gestures as if driving it away sometimes with her right hand and sometimes with her left, which she shook behind her : ** go ! go ! it is you who are bringing the Englishman to eat up the Frenchman !" " Now then ! prophetess of ill omen," said my uncle Raoul " when you have finished talking to the devil, will you be so kind as to tell me, what is the meaning of this menace ? " " Come now Mary " added Jules " tell us, do you really believe that you are talking to the devil ? You may be able to impose on the habitants ; but you ought to know that we do not believe in such folly." *' Go ! go ! " continued the witch making the same gesticulation, " it is you, who are bringing the English to eat up the French." 128 THE CANADIANS OP OLD.