HELEN'S DIARY.
"The Citadel, Quebec, Feb. ----, 1814.
"We arrived at Point Levi two days ago. What a delight it was to be in
the vicinity of civilization again! On the other side of the great St.
Lawrence was the famous old city. And how glad I was to drive over the
frozen river to this haven of rest. The air was keen, for the smooth ice
stretched up and down as far as the eye could see, and the wind from the
east was very piercing, but we didn't mind that.
"Now, we are all, officers, men and women, as well as horses and
baggage, comfortably lodged and quietly resting. And, although tired, I
am already getting glimpses of this historic and venerable place. What a
fortress, with its massive walls and many gates! What steep ascents!
What quaint churches! What a mighty river, stretched though it be in
ice!
"Then to think, as I sit here by this high window, far above the crowds
and tinkling sleigh-bells of the lower town, that I am just resting on
an oasis for a day or two, before setting out over the desert of ice and
snow again.
"Even now the last few weeks are like a dream to me. One of those long,
disturbed visions, in which you have to, whether you want to or not.
Every day a definite number of miles to cover; it mattered not how the
snow fell or the winds blew, or how intense the cold; whether you slept
beneath pine boughs and could see the stars twinkle above you, or
whether you had the luxury of sleeping in a woodsman's shanty; it all
had to be endured. Thank heaven, the first division of our journey is
over, and our little rest will prepare us for the second.
"Harold tells me that the officers of the Citadel say we have made one
of the quickest winter marches on record. There is satisfaction in that,
even if we did take a month to do it in. I hear, too, that the
Commandant of the Citadel has been congratulating the Colonel on the
despatch with which he defeated the invaders at Temiscouata. For my
part, I think the less said about it the better. It would be a poor
thing if two companies of regulars could not put to flight one of raw
recruits. It was too bad, though, to lose two of our best men. Poor
Jenkins! What a sad fatality! The mother to die and the father to be
killed. The silver lining to the terrible climax is that the children
were left at home.
"Oh, I must say a word about Lieutenant Smith! He is such a retiring
fellow that I knew little about him, although we had travelled together
all the way from the London docks. But after he was shot, our sleigh
being very comfortable, I proposed to Harold that he should have a seat
with me whenever it was not occupied by himself. The consequence is that
I have only had an occasional word with my particular friend, Captain
Cummings, since the day of the battle, and not a single drive. I was
quietly killing two birds with one stone, though nobody knew it. But Mr.
Smith's arm is better now--and, forsooth, we may return to the old order
of things--unless some other member of the staff should be similarly
unlucky.
"Smith is so young a fellow that I felt like mothering him. Fortunately,
it was his left arm, and as I sit on the left side of the sleigh the
sore arm was between us, protecting it from the pressure of the buffalo
robe and also from the cold. The boy is of good family, has high ideals,
and wants to win his way to fame. Just the kind of fellow I would like
for a friend. And if I am to make my home in Penetang without a single
lady to stand by me, and without relatives either, except my dear
husband, I may need a true, disinterested friend some time. Who knows?
Yes, and guileless, gentle, brave Lieutenant Smith, the man who was
wounded in our first battle, shall be the man.
"Talking of men, there is some one else I want to take right through
with us, and that is Bateese. The jolly, genial, conceited, whimsical,
but reliable, habitant. But if we take him we must take his wife also.
For days before we arrived here he could talk of little else than his
'femme,' but there was a sad tone about his musical jargon that was
unusual.
"'Madame,' he exclaimed one day, after a long silence. 'You not know,
Emmiline, mine vife. She live wid me in Kebeck.'
"'I didn't know you had a wife, Bateese.'
"'Oh, oui, married dis two year.' His tone was persuasive.
"'I would like to know her,' I replied.
"'Vell, I will bring her to you. She vas ma fille, bootiful, petite, so
young. Den de cure at Kebeck marry us--seem long tam--still only two
year. Den she grow into grand jolie femme. Bime-by she have twins--wan
garcon, wan wee leetle gal, petite an' putty as you nevare see. Mus' I
tell you de story? Eet no laughin', eet sad.'
"'Yes, tell me,' I could not but acquiesce.
"'Oh, sacre!' he exclaimed, giving the lazier horse an extra touch of
the whip. 'When de hot summare com, Bateese was away drivin' de carryall
along de revare down by de sea, de leetle Emmile go sick and die. An'
Emmiline was full of broken heart. Den when de fall came, scarlet fevare
steal like de diable after ma leetle Louis--ma cher fils--he die, too.
Ah, mon Dieu! Et nearly kill ma femme, an' it drive Bateese clean
crazee. Didn't care a sacre if Yankees lick Cannayans--didn't care how
soon I die--didn't care for nuffin! But dat no do. Poor Emmiline lay
sick four week in bed--Doctor said nevare get well no more. So Bateese
shake hisself and forget de dead babies to tend his leetle wife--say his
pater nostra ten times a day--go to church every tam de priest tell him,
give medicine all de whole tam. And, by gar, she get well at last. Den
Bateese had to leave her an' go on dis long trip to Halifax--an' has not
seen her again sence wintare cam.'
"'It is a sad story, Bateese, but you will soon see her now. Where does
she live when you are away?' I asked.
"'She stay wid her modare, close by de Abraham plain, where de French
General de Montcalm licked de Engleese.'
"He said this with a sly glance out of the corner of his eye, but with a
very grave face.
"'I thought it was General Wolfe who licked the French,' was my mild
rejoinder.
"'Vas eet? mauvais memoree,' he returned, gently tapping his forehead.
'Vell, dey both die, anyway, and bury in de same grave. Et not much
mattare which win. French Cannayans steel have Lower Canady and, by gar,
dey always will.' And in spite of his grief for his dead babies, he
concluded his narrative with a long, low chuckle to himself.
"It was on this occasion the thought came to me, that if Bateese went
with us to Penetang, Emmiline might go in place of the Corporal's wife.
That would give us three women besides myself. Only a small number at
best, and, if necessary, I would be willing personally to bear the
expense.
"Well, to-day she came up to see me, and I was quite taken with the
little French woman. She has a sweet face with a wee touch of sadness in
it, owing to the loss of her children. But it is not a face to retain
its melancholy. She has a little turn-up nose, rosy lips and bright
black eyes, and, like most of these habitant women, an abundance of dark
hair. She looks as though she might be very devoted to any one she
liked, and I will speak to Harold about it to-day."
"Quebec, Feb. ----, 1814."
"Last night a large party was given in honor of Sir George at the
Commandant's residence. Harold and I, and all our officers, were there,
the Chaplain as well. What a handsome old place it is, just like an old
European castle suddenly planted in the new western world!
"The first person that interested me there was Sir George Prevost, the
Governor-General of Canada, the most talked-of man in the whole country.
He seems to be such a strange combination of weakness and strength, and
little as I know about such matters, the two opposites seem to be
vividly impressed upon his face. His kindness and courtesy have a
favorable impression upon the social life of which he is the leader; but
the weak chin and irresolute mouth tell a different tale when fighting
his country's battles, and, lackaday, this has been proved over and over
again already.
"But this is something I suppose I have no right to talk about, even to
you, my little diary. So I will chat of the old place, of its lofty
halls and tapestried boudoirs. What rare old paintings are on the walls,
and so many of them French! It was in fine spirit for the English
conquerors of this old aristocratic colony, to retain so many of the
portraits of the nobles of the French regime.
"While on our voyage I read a good deal about the country that was to be
my home, and seeing the names of the old French governors under their
pictures only impressed their history more vividly upon my memory. The
strikingly handsome portrait of Baptiste Colbert, Louis the XIV's
minister, was there, too. The man who, a hundred and fifty years ago,
did so much for New France. How well his picture sets off the east hall
near the main entrance! The long, wavy locks of his court headdress well
suit the keen, dark eyes and clear-cut features; while the ruffles and
sword, and gaiters depict him every inch the courtier as well as the
gentleman.
"De Mezy, De Tracy, De Courcelles and Count de Frontenac, the daring
discoverer and bitter opponent of the English, were all there. What
tales they could tell of the days of the old regime, and of the strife
which lasted for years, until Wolfe and Montcalm fought it out at the
cost of their own lives and buried the hatchet between the nations!
"The old armor and Indian trophies hanging on the walls of room after
room in this old seigniory are very curious. The peculiar windows, too,
quite took my fancy. They are deeply set within the massive masonry, the
sills standing three or four feet from the floor, with cushions placed
on them to serve as seats, while benches below the sills act as stools
for the feet to rest upon.
"How well the elite of Quebec filled the old house that night, although
gathered together with such brief notice, and with what pleasantry they
greeted us! All seemed desirous to do what they could to help us to
forget for the time our journeyings. And they were just as courteous as
they were jovial, from our host and hostess down to the youngest of the
beaux and belles of New France. The Quebec girls are even prettier than
those of Halifax. For one thing, there are more of them, and another,
there is a larger French element from the old noblesse, and to me the
educated and cultured Canadienne has a charm of her own that is very
fascinating.
"Dr. Beaumont seemed to enjoy himself thoroughly. I wonder how much he
really cares for Maud Maxwell? Several times he has sat by my side for
half a day in our drives, but, to my surprise, he rarely mentioned her
name. Being half French I expected his vivacious nature would express
itself more freely. Perhaps it was the canny Scotch overshadowing the
Southern blood that kept him silent.
"But this time he seemed to have no care. He talks French beautifully,
and several times I heard him in animated conversation with one or other
of the smiling demoiselles in their mother tongue. He seemed to be
enamoured most with one Louise de Rochefort. Several times he danced
with her, and she talked the purest English; sometimes they used the one
language, and sometimes the other. She was quite different from Maud
Maxwell. Although not fair, her face was brilliant with a clear
transparency, and her brown eyes and exquisite mouth, when wreathed in
gentle laughter, made her expression very winning. She had many
admirers, but none were so attentive as he. Late in the evening, when
the Commandant took me in to supper, they were tete-a-tete in a corner
over salad and ice.
"Harold noticed the little flirtation, too, and said afterwards that it
would have a good effect upon the Doctor in compensation for the
coolness of the winsome Maud.
"The Commandant's wife was very kind to me. As a strict disciplinarian,
she did not try to dissuade me from completing the journey to Penetang;
but it was evident that she was astonished that I had undertaken it,
and hinted that it would be a wise thing to remain in Quebec until the
war was over--almost another Mrs. Mason. If she had known how determined
I was she would have said less about it, I am sure.
"Perhaps one-third of the ladies present are Anglo-Canadians. I believe
I was introduced to all of them. They are charming--not so stiff and
stately as society ladies in England--but just as courteous and,
perhaps, kinder in manner. I like them and wish there was a prospect of
having at least one as neighbor in my prospective home in Penetang.
"These Canadians, both French and English, take great interest in the
war, which is almost at their doors. When not dancing, they continually
discussed it. Still, dancing was the feature of the evening, and I must
have been specially honored, for I never danced so much in my life
before. My first waltz was, of course, with my husband. Then who should
ask me for the next but Captain Cummings. It was odious to dance with
him when my aversion was so strong. I hope I did not show it, and with
all my heart I wish I did not dislike him so much, for he is very
graceful and dances beautifully. Still, he looks at you with those great
black eyes of his, as if he could read your very thoughts. I wonder if
he influences other women as he does me. Of this I have no chance of
knowing. Oh, those eyes! How you have to fight them with all your might,
and yet never say a word! Somehow the fates have given me a hint to
beware, and I pray God to have me take it. I wonder if Harold would
laugh at me if he saw what I am writing.
"'It is an exquisite pleasure to waltz with you again,' he said, in his
low, penetrating voice, as we made our second circle round the room. I
had heard that he was always chagrined when he had a poor partner, so I
purposely made a misstep, while I replied:
"'You flatter me. I never was a graceful dancer, and, as you see, I am
out of practice.'
"'Pardon me, but that was my clumsiness,' was his comment. 'It will not
occur again.'
"And, if anything, he held me closer. I did not dare to repeat the step.
"'Not so tight, please,' I whispered, scarcely a minute later.
"'They have waxed this floor so confoundedly that one cannot help it,'
he returned smoothly, and with a smile that rivalled Mephistopheles. 'We
must not let these French-Canadians surpass the English in their own
waltz.'
"'In a matter of competition they would be sure to win,' I replied
coldly.
"'Why so?' he asked.
"'They are more graceful than we are.'
"'Free and easy, you mean. They have an abandon which the English girl
does not possess. No, no, Mrs. Manning, I would not exchange a dance
with you for a hundred with these Canuck maidens.'
"'Again you are flattering.'
"'Not in the least. You remember our waltz at the Halifax ball. Well,
the one I had with you was worth all the others put together. It will be
so to-night, even if this is the only one you honor me with. Ah! it is
over now. And here comes that odious little Frenchman to claim you for
the next. Bah! I could see him in Hades. But, never mind, I shall
remember that to-night you have blessed me with a few minutes' exquisite
pleasure.' Again his eyes opened wide, and with a quick flash, the look
seemed to penetrate my soul. An unpleasant thrill came over me and
turning away I accepted the arm of Colonel Joquelin for the next
waltz."