The Montmorenci empties itself at the distance of about eight miles
northeast of Quebec, into the great river St. Lawrence, to the coast of
which it gradually descends from the elevated mountain on which it has
its source. At a station called La Motte, situated on the northern
extremity of a sloping ground, its waters diffuse themselves into
shallow currents, interrupted by rocks which break them into foam, and
accompanied by murmuring sounds which enliven the solitude and solemn
stillness prevailing throughout the surrounding forests and desolate
hills. Further down, its channel is bounded by precipitous rocks, its
breadth becoming extremely contracted, and the rapidity of its current
proportionably augmented. At a place called “the natural steps,” there
are several beautiful cascades of ten or twelve feet. These steps, which
are extremely regular, have been gradually formed by the accession of
waters the river receives in its progress, at the breaking up of winter,
by the melting of the snows. From the middle of April to the end of May,
its waters roll with increasing hight and rapidity. Being powerfully
impelled in their course, they insinuate themselves between the strata
of the horizontal rock, vast fragments of which are detached by the
rushing violence of the sweeping torrent.
[Illustration: FALLS OF MONTMORENCI.]
On the eastern side, the bank, which is almost perpendicular, and fifty
feet high, is surmounted by lofty trees. The south-west bank rises
beyond the steps, and terminates in a precipice. On the opposite side,
the bank is regular, and of a singular shape, resembling the ruin of an
elevated wall. The trees by which the banks are inclosed, united with
the effect produced by the foaming currents, and the scattered masses of
stone, form a scene wild and picturesque. The stream now taking a
southern direction, is augmented in its velocity, and forms a grand
cascade interrupted by huge rocks. A quarter of a mile further down a
similar effect is produced. After exhibiting an agreeable variety
through its course, the river is precipitated, in an almost
perpendicular direction, over a rock two hundred and fifty feet in
hight. A view of this latter cascade is given in the cut. Wherever it
touches the rock, it falls in white clouds of rolling foam; and,
beneath, where it is propelled with uninterrupted gravitation, it forms
numerous flakes, like wool or cotton, which are gradually protracted in
the descent, until they are received into the boiling profound abyss
beneath.
The effect from the summit of the cliff is awfully grand, and truly
sublime. The prodigious depth of the descent of the waters of this
surprising fall; the brightness and volubility of their course; the
swiftness of their movement through the air; and the loud and hollow
noise emitted from the basin, swelling with incessant agitation from the
weight of the dashing waters, forcibly combine to attract the attention,
and to impress the mind of the spectator with sentiments of grandeur and
elevation. The clouds of rising vapor, which assume the prismatic
colors, contribute to enliven the scene. They fly off from the fall in
the form of a revolving sphere, emitting with velocity pointed flakes of
spray, which spread in receding, until they are interrupted by the
neighboring banks, or dissolved in the atmosphere.
The breadth of the fall is one hundred feet; and the basin, which is
bounded by steep cliffs, forms an angle of forty-five degrees. When
viewed from the beach, the cataract is seen, with resplendent beauty, to
flow down the gloomy precipice, the summit of which is crowded with
woods. The diffusion of the stream, to the breadth of fifteen hundred
feet, and the various small cascades produced by the inequalities of its
rocky bed, on its way to the river St. Lawrence, display a very singular
and pleasing combination.