originally the home of Roger Williams while he was preaching in Salem
in 1635–1636. From it he fled to the shores of Narraganset Bay, where
he founded the Colony of Rhode Island. Its next occupant was Captain
Richard Davenport who cut the cross from the King’s colours because
“it savoured of Popery.” In 1674 or 1675, Judge Corwin of witchcraft
fame took possession and made many alterations. Before his day the old
house presented a more attractive appearance, resembling many houses
of this period still standing in England. In its original state, it
was composed of several overhanging stories, each larger than the one
below and the roof was broken into several peaked gables, each of which
was ornamented with a pineapple of carved wood. Narrow windows with
lozenge-shaped panes added to its quaintness. More alterations were
made in 1746 and 1772, and all feeling of picturesqueness has vanished
completely.
SHRINE OF GUADALUPE
THOMAS UNETT BROCKLEHURST
One day I took a car to pay a visit to the shrine of Guadalupe, which
is situated three miles from the city (Mexico), and is a great point of
attraction both to residents and visitors.
The old road from the city to Guadalupe, with its handsome wayside
shrines, was given up to the Vera Cruz Railway, and a new road for
tramcars and traffic has been made alongside of it. As soon as we had
passed the gates and the _aduna_, “crack, crack, hi, hi, hi!” and
off we went at a hand gallop past adobe houses and _pulquerias_, the
snow-capped giant Popocatapetl lifting his white head to the azure on
the right, and soon, through the avenue of trees, the little church on
the hill Tepeyac, erected where the Virgin appeared to the peasant Juan
Diego, and the Cathedral at its foot, with its flat façade flanked by
low towers, were both visible in the distance.
The cars came to a standstill in front of the Cathedral, and a motley
crowd of loungers watched us alight.
The houses are one-storied and old, the windows barred after the
fashion introduced by the Moors into Spain; behind the bars stood
village maidens and matrons who signalled and saluted their male
acquaintances by holding up the left hand, the fingers extended, which
they wiggled to and fro about half-a-dozen times; this is their mode of
salutation, possibly it means we have fruit and entertainment to offer.
The church of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe is the most famous of all
the churches in the country, owing its notoriety to the legend that,
on the 12th of December, 1531, the Virgin Mary appeared to a poor
Mexican shepherd in that neighbourhood; he reported the vision to the
priests, who asked him to substantiate his statement by proofs. The
Virgin showed herself to him on five different occasions, and finally
stamped her image on his blanket; this mark was accepted; Our Lady
of Guadalupe was officially proclaimed the patron saint of Mexico by
the authority of Pope Clement VII., and thereby the influence of the
Catholic religion was greatly extended, it being asserted that, by her
graciously appearing to a native, all natives were taken under her
special protection. A shrine was erected on the top of the hill where
the vision appeared. At its foot rose a magnificent Cathedral, which
at one time was very rich in gold and silver ornaments, the offerings
of the faithful; but many of these were confiscated and coined into
money by order of President Benito Juarez in 1860, and have since been
replaced by inferior metal.
The name of Guadalupe was combined with that of Hidalgo, the Mexican
priest who in 1810 raised the cry of independence from the Spanish
yoke. He had painted on his standard the image of the Virgin of
Guadalupe which greatly helped to excite the patriotism of the natives;
more than 100,000 of them rallied round him; but they were so badly
armed that they could not compete with the Spanish forces, who,
curious to say, fought under the banner of the Virgin Los Remedios.
[Illustration: CHURCH OF GUADALOUPE, MEXICO]
Poor Hidalgo was captured by the Spaniards and shot in 1811; but his
followers in whom he had aroused much enthusiasm, continued the war,
and, after eleven years’ hard fighting, independence was accomplished,
in 1821, under Iturbide; and Spanish Viceroys and their rule were
abolished. Mexican presidents, nominated every four years by the
plebiscite of the nation, took their place.
There is not much to see in the Cathedral, which has been despoiled of
its silver and valuables (the golden frame of the Virgin was taken, but
returned); so I made the ascent by a zigzag road to the shrine at the
top of the hill.
Before entering the chapel, stop to look at the view; it will repay
any amount of trouble taken in mounting the steep steps. The city, the
lake and Chapultepec are within the range of a camera, if it could be
so fixed as to avoid the roof of the Cathedral below you. Turn and
enter the shrine: at a little altar on the right are rude daubs of
pictures representing miracles worked through the intervention of the
Virgin--pious offerings in commemoration of a child saved from fire,
a husband from lightning, a wife from a runaway train, a lady and
gentleman from an overturn of a carriage, people rising from a bed of
sickness, and such like--some of them with the paint hardly dry.
The altar railing is of solid silver; this railing was, of all the
sumptuous church fixtures throughout the land, alone spared by the
Liberals. Its value must be immense; pious Mexicans do not like to
appraise it, for reasons best known to themselves. The great gem,
however, of this church is the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, which
she herself imprinted--according to the legend--upon the _tilma_,
or garment, of Juan Diego, the poor peasant, as a proof that she
had appeared to him; this relic is hung over the high altar in a
wrought-iron case and is only exposed on rare holidays. By especial
grace I obtained a view of it. The _tilma_ is a very coarse piece
of woollen fabric; the colouring of the image is distinct, and may have
been touched up from time to time. On a table at the door are copies of
the picture in all sizes, and you see them in every Indian hut, every
wayside shrine, in all the public offices, in every church--indeed in
every place in the land, appropriate or inappropriate, as the case may
be.
In an adjoining churchyard are some pretty tombs, and great prices are
paid for interment in this sacred spot. Santa Anna rests here, and the
names of the leading families of Mexico could be read on the marble on
all directions.
After descending from the hill I visited the miraculous sulphur spring,
said to cure everything; the church or dome which covers it was being
redecorated at great expense at the time of my visit. The legend says
that this spring of sulphur hydrogen gushed forth from a spot touched
by one of the Virgin’s feet. On the 12th of December every year (the
anniversary of the apparition), thousands of natives from all parts of
the country visit this shrine and the Church of Guadalupe. The name is
familiar to many people as that of a town between Toledo and Trujillo
in Spain, where there is a famous shrine to the Virgin. There is
always a longing in the minds of colonists to perpetuate the names of
the country of their birth, and Guadalupe is no doubt an instance of
this patriotic feeling on the part of the Spaniards; the Geronomite
convent in Spain was at the time of the Conquest the richest and most
venerated shrine in the old country, its celebrated figure of the
Virgin, being believed to have been carved by St. Luke himself, and
it was given by St. Gregory the Great to San Leandro for putting down
Arianism. The figure was hidden and miraculously preserved during
six centuries of Moorish invasion, and when brought to light was so
venerated by the whole Spanish nation that the settlers in New Spain
would delight in perpetuating the name of the shrine in their new home.
CHRIST CHURCH, ALEXANDRIA
BISHOP MEADE
The town of Alexandria was at first called Hunting Creek Warehouse,
sometimes Belle Haven, and consisted of a small establishment at that
place. Its growth was encouraged by successive acts of the Legislature,
establishing semi-annual fairs and granting certain privileges to
those who attended them. In the year 1762, it was enlarged by the
laying off of numerous lots on the higher ground, belonging to Dade,
West and the Alexanders, after which it improved rapidly, so that at
the close of the Eighteenth or beginning of the Nineteenth Century
its population was ten thousand, and its commerce greater than it now
is. So promising was it at the close of the war, that its claims were
weighed in the balance with those of Washington as the seat of National
Government. It is thought that, but for the unwillingness of Washington
to seem partial to Virginia, Alexandria would have been the chosen
spot, and that on the first range of hills overlooking the town the
public buildings would have been erected. Whether there had been any
public worship or church at Alexandria previous to this enlargement of
it, and the great impulse thus given to it, does not appear from the
vestry-book, though it is believed that there was. But soon after this,
in the year 1764, Fairfax parish is established, and measures taken for
the promotion of the Church in this place. The vestry book commences
in 1765. At one time there were two churches in the new parish of
Fairfax--one at the Falls, called, as the present one is Little Falls
Church; the position of the other--the Lower Church--is not known. It
may have been an old one at Alexandria.
[Illustration: OLD CHRIST CHURCH, ALEXANDRIA, VA.]
Among the first acts of the vestry was the repairing of the two old
churches in the parish, at a cost of more than thirty-two thousand
pounds of tobacco. In the year 1766, it is determined to build two
new churches,--one at the Little Falls, very near the old one, and
one in Alexandria, to contain twenty-four hundred square feet and to
be high-pitched so as to admit of galleries. Mr. James Wrenn agrees
to build the former, and Mr. James Parsons the other, for about six
hundred pounds each. A most particular contract is made for them.
The mortar is to have two-thirds of lime and one of sand,--the very
reverse of the proportion at this day, and which accounts for the
greater durability of ancient walls. The shingles were to be of the
best cypress or juniper, and three-quarters of an inch thick, instead
of our present half-inch ones. Mr. Parsons was allowed to add ten feet
to the upper part of the church on his own account, and to pay himself
by their sale, on certain conditions. He commenced his work, but was
unable to finish it. It lingered for some years, until in 1772, Mr.
John Carlisle undertakes it, and completes it in 1773. The ten pews are
now sold, and General Washington, though having just been engaged in
the erection of Mount Vernon Church, which was finished the same year,
and having a pew therein, gives the highest price for one in Christ
Church, which was occupied by him and his family during his life, and
has been by some of his name ever since. The gallery was not put up
until the year 1787, at which time the pews were balloted for. The
steeple is of modern construction.
Christ Church stands on Cameron and Washington Streets in a
pretty green churchyard, where in 1774, Washington addressed
the citizens advocating resistance to Great Britain; and it was
on the spot also that General Lee agreed to take command of the
Virginia forces at the beginning of the Civil War in 1861.
Washington attended Christ Church regularly, and his pew is
still shown. Unfortunately, the old high backed pews were
cut down a few years ago at the instance of the rector of an
important church in Washington. Washington always drove from
_Mount Vernon_ to Alexandria in a handsome cream-coloured
coach, the body of which was suspended by heavy leather straps.
The sides and front were shaded with green blinds and black
leather outside curtains. The lining of the coach was black
leather; the Washington arms were painted on the doors and a
picture of the seasons was also painted on each of the four
panels. Four horses were ordinarily harnessed to this coach
except when six were required for long journeys. What became of
this coach we learn from Bishop Meade, who says:
“There was one object of interest belonging to General
Washington, concerning which I have a special right to
speak,--viz.: his old English coach, in which himself and Mrs.
Washington not only rode in Fairfax County, but travelled
through the length and breadth of our land. So faithfully was
it executed that, at the conclusion of this long journey, its
builder, who came over with it and settled in Alexandria, was
proud to be told by the General that not a nail or screw had
failed. It so happened, in a way I need not state, that this
coach came into my hands about fifteen years after the death
of General Washington. In the course of time, from disuse, it
being too heavy for these latter days, it began to decay and
give way. Becoming an object of desire to those who delight
in relics, I caused it to be taken to pieces and distributed
among the admiring friends of Washington who visited my house,
and also among a number of female associations for benevolent
and religious objects, which associations, at their fairs and
other occasions, made a large profit by converting the fragments
into walking-sticks, picture-frames, and snuff-boxes. About
two-thirds of one of the wheels thus produced one hundred and
forty dollars. There can be no doubt but that at its dissolution
it yielded more to the cause of charity than it did to its
builder at its first erection. Besides other mementos of it, I
have in my study, in the form of a sofa, the hind-seat, on which
the General and his lady were wont to sit.”--E. S.
A GLIMPSE AT NEW ORLEANS HOUSES
LADY HARDY
We start in the early morning on a pedestrian excursion through this
“Paris of the South.” We almost fancy that we have gone to sleep in
the New World, and woke up in the old fair and familiar city across
the sea. It is the same, yet not the same; there is a similarity in
the general features especially in the vicinity of Canal Street, to
which I shall allude more fully by and by, and an insouciant gaiety in
the aspect of the people, which pervades the very air they breathe;
an electric current seems always playing upon their spirits; moving
their emotional nature, sometimes to laughter, sometimes to tears.
It seems as though the two cities had been built on the same model,
only differently draped and garnished, decorated with different orders
and stamped with a different die. Coming down a narrow lane, we met
a Frenchwoman, her mahogany coloured face scored like the bark of an
old tree scarcely visible beneath her flapping sunbonnet. She wore
short petticoats, and came clattering along over the rough stones in
her wooden sabots, while her tall blue-bloused grandson carrying her
well-filled basket strode beside her; and a meek-eyed Sister of Charity
bent on her errand of mercy passed in at a creeking doorway. These
were the only signs of life we saw as we first turned on our way to
the French quarter of the town, which still bears the impress of
the old Colonial days. This is the most ancient portion of the city,
and full of romantic traditions of the days that are dead and gone.
The long narrow crooked streets, running on all sides in a spidery
fashion, with rows of shabby-looking houses, remain exactly as they
were a hundred years ago. Strict conservatism obtains here; nothing
has been done in the way of improvement; the old wooden houses are
bruised and battered as though they had been engaged in a battle with
time and been worsted; they are covered with discolourations and
patches, naked and languishing for a new coat of paint. There are no
dainty green sun blinds here, but heavy worm-eaten wooden shutters and
queer timber-doors hung on clumsy iron hinges; here and there we get
a glimpse of the dingy interiors while a few bearded men are lounging
smoking in the doorways, and a few children, clattering like French
magpies, are playing on the threshold. Everything is quiet and dull--a
sort of Rip Van Winkle-ish sleep seems drooping its drowsy wings and
brooding everywhere, till a lumbering dray comes clattering over the
cobble stones, and sends a thousand echoes flying through the lonely
streets.
[Illustration: ST. CHARLES AVENUE, NEW ORLEANS]
From these stony regions, past the little old-fashioned church where
the good Catholics worshipped a century ago and we emerge upon Canal
Street, the principal business thoroughfare of the city; it is thronged
with people at this time of day, busy crowds are passing to and fro,
the shop windows are dressed in their most attractive wares, temptingly
exposed to view. Confectioners, fruit and fancy stores overflow into
open stalls in front and spread along the sidewalk; huge bunches of
green bananas, strawberries, peas, pines, cocoa-nuts and mangoes,
mingled with dainty vegetables, are lying in heaps. We are tempted to
try a mango, the favourite southern fruit, of whose luscious quality
we have so often heard, but the first taste of its sickening sweetness
satisfies our desires. The street is very wide, and the jingle-jangle
of the car-bells, the rattling of wheels and the spasmodic shriek and
whistle of the steam engine--all mingle together in a not unsweet
confusion. Lumbering vehicles, elegant carriages, street-cars and a
fussy little railway, all run in parallel lines along the wide roadway.
This is the great backbone of the city, whence all lines of vehicular
traffic branch off on their diverse tracks into all the highways and
byways of the land. Here we get on to a car which carries us through
the handsomest quarter of the city. Quaint old-fashioned houses,
surrounded by gardens of growing flowers, and magnificent magnolias,
now in full bloom, stand here and there in solitary grandeur, or
sometimes in groups like a conclave of green limbed giants, clothed in
white raiment, and perfumed with the breath of paradise. Past lines of
elegant residences, where the _élite_ of the city have their abode, and
we soon reach a rough wooden shed yclept a “depot.”
The architectural beauty of New Orleans is unique, and wholly unlike
any other Southern city; the avenues are wide and beautifully planted,
a generous shade spreads every way you turn. The dwelling-houses
which line St. Charles’s Avenue are graceful, classical structures,
no blending together of ancient and modern ideas, and running wild
into fancy chimney-pots, arches, points and angles like a Twelfth
Cake ornament. Some are fashioned like Greek temples, most impressive
in their chaste outline and simplicity of form; others straight and
square, with tall Corinthian columns or fluted pillars, sometimes of
marble, sometimes of stone. The severe architectural simplicity, the
pure white buildings shaded by beautiful magnolias and surrounded
by brilliant shrubs and flowers, form a vista charming to the eye
and soothing to the senses, and all stands silhouetted against the
brightest of blue skies--a blue before which the bluest of Italian
skies would seem pale.
The aspect of the city changes on every side; we leave the fashionable
residential regions and enter broad avenues lined with grand old forest
trees, sometimes in double rows, the thick-leaved branches meeting and
forming a canopy overhead. The ground is carpeted with soft green turf,
and bare-legged urchins, black and white, are playing merry games; a
broken down horse is quietly grazing, and a cow is being milked under
the trees, while a company of pretty white goats, with a fierce-looking
Billie at their head, are careering about close by. Pretty pastoral
bits of landscape on every side cling to the skirts and fringe the
sides of this quaint city. As we get farther away from St. Charles’s
Avenue, the better class of residences get fewer and fewer, till they
cease altogether, and we come upon pretty greenshuttered cottages,
with their porches covered with blossoms and rows of the old-fashioned
straw bee-hives in front. Here and there are tall tenement houses built
of cherry-red bricks, which are let out in flats to the labouring
classes.
THE CHÂTEAU DE RAMEZAY, MONTREAL
MAJOR A. C. YATE
The history of Canada that is destined to live is that of its earliest
explorers and colonists, amongst whom the French rank first and the
English second. One of the most interesting monuments of that history
is the Château de Ramezay in Montreal, of which I propose to record
here what little I have been able to learn during a short visit to
Canada. It was built about 1705 by Claude de Ramezay, “a distinguished
soldier of noble birth,” who was Governor of Montreal from 1703 to
1724. In some books I find the name spelt Ramsay or Ramesay, but
Ramezay is the spelling adopted by the Numismatic and Antiquarian
Society of Montreal. It is practically certain that the Governor of
Montreal who bore the name was of Scotch extraction. In the Seventeenth
Century the cadets of many families of the French nobility emigrated to
Canada (“La Nouvelle France,” as it was then called), while the nominal
Vice-royalty was held by several of the highest nobles of the land,
viz., the Prince de Condé, Duc de Montmorenci, and Duc de Ventadour.
The emigrant nobles were granted seigneuries in various parts of New
France, and in some cases these seigneuries have remained in their
families to the present day. The Château de Ramezay is the town mansion
of one of these seigneurial families. Very little, however, seems to
be known of Claude de Ramezay. An autograph letter of his, presented
by Judge Baby, is in the museum. In 1703, the Marquis de Vaudreuil,
Commandant of Montreal, succeeded the Chevalier de Callière (who had
also in his day been Governor or Commandant of Montreal) as Governor of
Canada. Claude de Ramezay apparently succeeded De Vaudreuil as Military
Governor of Montreal. He appears to have been a man of capacity and to
have interested himself keenly in the pioneering and exploring work to
which so many men at that time devoted themselves. In 1702, during his
Governorship, a French post was established at Detroit, and in 1717,
another at the mouth of the Kaministiquia River, on Lake Superior,
where Fort William now is. Nor was M. de Ramezay backward in organizing
military expeditions against the English settlements in the New England
States. During the whole of De Ramezay’s Governorship the English and
French colonies in America were at war, as indeed they almost always
were, whether the mother-countries were at peace or not.
The Governorship of Claude de Ramezay is said to have ended in 1724,
whether owing to his death or retirement we are not told. In 1745, the
Château passed into the hands of “_La Compagnie des Indes_,” and
remained with them till September, 1760, when Montreal surrendered to
the united forces of Amherst, Haviland and Murray. We are not told what
use was made of the Château from 1724 to 1745. Tradition associates
with the Château the name of De Vaudreuil, one celebrated in the annals
of “_La Nouvelle France_,” but it is not explicit as to date, or
indeed any detail. The first Marquis de Vaudreuil, after having been
for some years Commandant of Montreal, became Governor of Canada in
1703, and retained that post until he died, respected and regretted in
1725.
[Illustration:
Copyright, 1900, by Detroit Photographic Co.
THE CHÂTEAU DE RAMEZAY, MONTREAL]
It is said that when Claude de Ramezay died (no date given), his heirs
found themselves unable to bear the expense of keeping up so large a
residence, and sold it to “_La Compagnie des Indes_.” From 1745 to
1760, it was thus the headquarters of a great French trading-company,
the resort of Indian _voyageurs_ and _coureurs de bois_, coming in from
the north and west with their loads of furs, and selling or bartering
them to the agents of the company, by whom they were shipped to France.
This company also held by charter a monopoly in the purchase and sale
of all imports and exports in the Colony. When Canada passed into the
possession of Great Britain, in 1760, the Château de Ramezay became
General Amherst’s headquarters, and subsequently for a short time those
of General Gage. We find from Withrow’s History that it was a De Ramsay
(as Withrow spells it), who surrendered Quebec to General Townshend
after Wolfe’s victory on the Heights of Abraham.