Monsieur Hamel, a sly, courteous, devout old bachelor, had a honied word,

a holy, upturned glance, a jaunty welcome for all and every one of his

numerous "dévotes" or fashionable _pratiques_. A small fortune was

the result of the attention to business, thrift and correct calculations

of this pink of French politeness. Monsieur Chas. Hamel, honoured by his

familiars with the sobriquet "Lily Hamel," possibly because his urbanity

was more than masculine, in fact, quite lady-like--the _crème de la

crème_ of commercial suavity. This stand, frequented by the Quebec

gentry from 1840 to 1865, had gradually become a favourite stopping place,

a kind of half-way house, where many aged valetudinarians tarried a few

minutes to gossip with friends equally aged, homeward bound, on bright

winter afternoons, direct from their daily "constitutional" walk, as far

as the turnpike on St. John's road. Professor Hubert Larue [75] will

introduce us to some of the _habitués_ of this little club, which he

styles _Le Club des Anciens_, a venerable brotherhood uniting choice

spirits among city _littérateurs_, antiquarians, superannuated Militia

officers, retired merchants: Messrs. Henry Forsyth, Long John Fraser,

Lieut.-Colonel Benjamin LeMoine, F. X. Garneau, G. B. Faribault, P. A. De

Gaspé, Commissary-General Jas. Thompson, Major Lafleur, Chs. Pinguet, the

valiant Captain of the City Watch in 1837. The junior members counted from

fifty to sixty summers; their seniors had braved some sixty or seventy

winters. After discussing the news of the day, local antiquities and

improvements, there were certain topics, which possessed the secret of

being to them eternally young, irresistibly attractive: the thrilling era

of Colonel De Salaberry and General Sir Isaac Brock; the Canadian

_Voltigeurs_, [76] the American War of 1812-14, where a few of these

veterans had clanked their sabres and sported their epaulettes, &c. With

the exception of an esteemed and aged Quebec merchant, Long John Fraser,

all now sleep the long sleep, under the green sward and leafy shades of

Mount Hermon or Belmont cemeteries, or in the moist vaults of some city

monastery.

On revisiting lately these once famous haunts of our forefathers, the new

proprietor, ex-Mayor Tourangeau, courteously exhibited to us the

_antiques_ of this heavy walled tenement, dating back possibly to the

French _régime_, perhaps the second oldest house in St. John street.

In a freshly painted room, on the first story, in the east end, hung two

ancient oil paintings, executed years ago by a well-remembered artist,

Jos. Legaré, for the owners, two octogenarian inmates--his friends,

Messrs. Michel and Charles Jourdain, architects and builders. They were

charged some seventy years ago with the construction of the District Court

House (burnt in 1872) and City Jail (now the Morrin College.) Messrs.

Jourdain had emigrated to Canada after the French Revolution of 1789. They

had a holy horror of the guillotine, though, like others of the

_literati_ of Quebec in former days, they were well acquainted with

the doctrines and works of Voltaire, Diderot, and d'Alembert. One of the

Jourdains, judging from his portrait, must have been a shrewd, observant

man. Later on, the old tenement had sheltered the librarian of the

Legislative Council, Monsieur Jourdain--a son--quite a _savant_ in

his way, and whose remains were escorted to their last resting place by

the _élite_ of the Canadian population. It is a mistake to think that

culture and education were unknown in those early times; in some instances

the love of books prevailed to that degree that, in several French-

Canadian families, manuscript copies then made at Quebec exist to this

day, of the Latin and French classics from the difficulty of procuring

books; there being little intercourse then with Paris book-stores, in

fact, no importations of books. Among many quaint relics of the distant

days of the Messrs. Jourdain and of their successor, Monsieur Audiverti

_dit_ Romain, we saw a most curiously inlaid _Marqueterie_ table, dating,

we might be tempted to assert, from the prehistoric era!

Innumerable are the quaint, pious or historical souvenirs, mantling like

green and graceful ivy, the lofty, fortified area, which comprises the

Upper Town of this "walled city of the North". An incident of our early

times--the outraged Crucifix of the Hôtel Dieu Convent, [77] and the

Military Warrant, appropriating to urgent military wants, the revered seat

of learning, the Jesuits' College, naturally claim a place in these pages.

The _Morning Chronicle_ will furnish us condensed accounts, which we

will try and complete:--

_LE CRUCIFIX OUTRAGÉ._

"An interesting episode in the history of Canada during the last

century attaches to a relic in the possession of the Reverend Ladies

of the Hôtel Dieu, or, more properly, "the Hospital of the Most

Precious Blood of Jesus Christ," of which the following is a synopsis

taken from l'Abbé H. G. Casgrain's history of the institution:--

"On the 5th October, 1742, it was made known that a soldier in the

garrison in Montreal, named Havard de Beaufort, professed to be a

sorcerer, and, in furtherance of his wicked pretensions, had profaned

sacred objects. He had taken a crucifix, and having besmeared it with

some inflammable substance--traces of which are still to be seen upon

it--had exposed it to the flames, whilst he at the same time recited

certain passages of the Holy Scripture. The sacrilege had taken place

in the house of one Charles Robidoux, at Montreal. Public indignation

at this profanation of the sacred symbol and of the Scripture was

intense; the culprit was arrested, tried and convicted, and sentenced

to make a public reparation, after which he was to serve three years

in the galleys. To this end he was led by the public executioner, with

a cord around his neck, bareheaded and barefooted, wearing only a long

shirt, and having a placard on his breast and back on which was

inscribed the legend "Desecrator of holy things" (_Profanateur des

choses saintes_), in front of the parish church in Montreal, and

being placed on his knees, he made the _amende honorable_ to God,

to the King and to Justice, and declared in a loud and intelligible

voice that he had rashly and wickedly desecrated the sacred image of

Jesus Christ, and had profaned the words of Holy Scripture. He was

then brought to all the cross-roads of the town, where he was scourged

by the public executioner, and afterwards lodged in prison to await

the sailing of the vessel which was to convey him to France, where he

was to undergo the remainder of his sentence. The Bishop of Quebec,

(whose vast diocese then included all of North America) immediately

wrote a letter to Montreal, inviting the people to make reparation by

penances and public prayers for the outrage committed, and ordering a

public procession from the parish church to that of Notre Dame de

Bonsecours, where the veneration of the cross took place. He then

obtained the crucifix from the magistrates, and forwarded it to the

reverend ladies of the Hôtel Dieu in Quebec, accompanied by a letter

in which he directed that it should be placed in their chapel, and

that on a certain day the veneration of it should be made in

reparation of the insult offered the Saviour of the world in his

sacred image on the cross. The nuns placed it in a reliquary, and to

this day it occupies a prominent position on the high altar. In virtue

of a brief of His Holiness the Pope, dated the 15th December, 1782, a

plenary indulgence was granted to any one who, having fulfilled the

usual conditions, should visit the Hôtel Dieu chapel on the first

Friday in March of each year. By an indult of the Supreme Pontiff,

dated 21st March, 1802, this indulgence was transferred to the first

Friday of October, when the veneration of the relic takes place

annually.

The cross is of some sort of dark wood, about five or six inches long,

bearing a brass figure of our Saviour, with the inscription I. N. R.

I. (_Jesus Nazarene Rex Judaeorum_) overhead and the skull and

cross-bones beneath. Attached to it is the certificate of authenticity

and the seal of the Bishop, Monseigneur de Pontbriand. In accordance

with this arrangement, public service was held in the chapel of the

hospital yesterday. The crucifix, enclosed in a gorgeous reliquary and

surrounded with a number of lighted tapers, flowers and other

ornaments, was placed on one of the lateral altars. Solemn mass was

sung at eight o'clock by the Rev. Mr. Rhéaume, of the Seminary, the

musical portion being rendered in a most impressive manner by the

reverend mothers, to organ accompaniment. In the afternoon, at two

o'clock, solemn vespers were chanted by the community, after which an

eloquent and impressive sermon was preached by Rev. Father Lepinto,

S.J., followed by the benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, which was

given, by Rev. Mr. Fraser, of the Seminary, who had previously read a

solemn form of "Reparation" in the name of all present, and in which

all joined. The _Tantum Ergo_ and other hymns were sung by the

nuns, and after the chanting of the CXVI. Psalm, the relic was

venerated, each one devoutly kissing it, during which the choir of

nuns sang the _Crux fidelis_. Altogether the ceremony was a very

impressive one, as was evidenced by the solemn, subdued manner of the

large congregation assembled."--(_Morning Chronicle_, _2nd Oct._,

1880.)

_THE JESUITS' BARRACKS._

"At the present moment, in 1871, when, it is said, the Jesuits'

Barrack is on the eve of being returned to the Quebec authorities, our

readers will no doubt be pleased to learn how and when this valuable

property came into the possession of the Military Government. We are

indebted to J. M. LeMoine, Esq., President of the Literary and

Historical Society, for a copy of the ukase of Governor Murray

converting the old College of the Jesuits, on the Upper Town Market

Place, into a barrack, which it has remained ever since. It is

extracted from some rare old manuscripts belonging to that

institution. The orthographical mistakes exist in the original, and we

have allowed them to reappear:--

By His Excellency the Hon. James Murray, Esq., Capt. General and

Governor-in-Chief of the Province of Quebec and the territories

thereupon depending in America, Vice-Admiral of the same, Major-

General of His Majesty's Forces, and Colonel Commandant of the 2nd

Battalion of the Royal American Regiment of Foot, &c., &c., &c.

To Captain James Mitchelson, Captain William Martin, Lieut. Smith,

Messieurs Amiot, Boisseau and Moore:

Whereas it appears to me that proper Quarters and Barracks are much

wanted for the officers and troops in this garrison, and it being

apprehended that the Jesuits' College may be fitted up for that

purpose--You are hereby authorized and impowered to survey the same,

calling to your assistance such number of tradesmen as you may judge

necessary, in which survey, regard is to be had to a sufficient number

of Fire Places and Chimneys, to ascertain with precision the number of

officers and private soldiers the said College will contain, and to

make an estimate of the expense that will attend the repairs thereof.

And whereas the Contractors' provisions are at present lodged in the

said college, other magazines should be found to lodge the same. You

are therefore further impowered to inspect and survey that building

known by the name of the Intendant's Palace, and to ascertain also the

charges that will attend the fitting up the same to contain the

quantity of six thousand barrels, reporting to me on the back hereof

your proceedings upon the warrant, which shall be to you and every of

you sufficient authority.

Given under my hand and seal at Quebec, this 4th day of June, 1765.

(sd) JAS. MURRAY. By His Excellency's command.

(Counters'd,) J. GOLDFRAP, D. Sectry.

General Arnold's soldiers having during the winter of 1775 established

themselves in and near the French Intendant's Palace, facing the St.

Charles, Governor Carleton decided to sacrifice the stately pile of

buildings in order to dislodge the enemy. A lively fire was in

consequence opened from the guns on the ramparts, near Palace Gate,

and the magnificent structure was soon riddled with shot. It stood in

rear of Vallière's furniture factory and Boswell's brewery. Thus was

acquired the Jesuits' Barrack, and thus perished the Intendant's

Palace."--(_Chronicle_, 27_th Dec._, 1871.)

D'Auteuil street, bounded to the west by an open space--the Esplanade--

lined on one side by shade trees, on the other by the verdant slopes of

the glacis and city walls, deserves a passing notice. Bouchette describes

it thus:--"The Esplanade, between St. Louis and St. John's Gate, has a

length of 273 yards, by an average breadth of 80, except at the Ste.

Ursula bastion, where it is 120 yards. It is tolerably level, in some

places presenting a surface of bare rock. This is the usual place of

parade for the troops of the garrison, from whence every morning in summer

the different guards of the town are mounted; in winter the Jesuits'

Barracks drill ground is generally used for parades. The musters and

annual reviews of the militia belonging to the city are held there. [78]

The Esplanade is still used as a parade ground, if not by our city militia

by our provincial troops. Right well can we recall the manly form of the

Commander of the "B" Battery, Lieut.-Colonel T. B. Strange, bestriding a

noble charger, putting his splendid, though not numerous corps, through

their drill on the Esplanade. We have also sometimes caught sight there of

our gay Volunteers. Occasionally these grounds are used by the divers

lacrosse clubs for their athletic games--the _doyen_ of our city

_littérateurs_, the Hon. P. J. O. Chauveau, in a graphic portraiture

of the "Quebec of the Past," has most feelingly retraced the vanished

glories, the military pageants, the practical jokers, the City Watch, the

social gatherings, which his youthful eyes witnessed of yore on the

Esplanade and on Durham Terrace. We have attempted to render in English a

striking chapter of this sparkling effusion:--

_OLDEN TIMES IN THE ANCIENT CAPITAL._

"There is not only the quaint city of Champlain--of Montmagny--of

Frontenac--of Bishop Laval--of Governor de Vaudreuil and Montcalm--of

Lord Dorchester and Colonel Dambourges--that is rapidly fading away;

there is not merely the grim fortress of the French _régime_, the

city of early English rule, disappearing piecemeal in the dissolving

shadows of the past. A much more modern town--newer even than that so

graphically pictured by our old friend Monsieur de Gaspé--the Quebec

of our boyhood--of our youth--the Quebec embalmed in the haunted

chambers of memory prior to 1837--it also each day seems retreating--

crumbling--evanescing.

Where are those dashing regiments which every Sunday at 4 p.m. (we

were not such Puritans then as now) paraded in the open space facing

the Esplanade walls, under the approving eye of the beauty and fashion

of all Quebec, assembled from outside and from inside of the walls--

the men proud of their bottle-green or dark-blue coats and white duck

pants--all the vogue then--while the softer sex and juveniles were

apparelled in the gayest of toilettes--brightest of colors--loudest of

contrasts: white--pink--green! How densely packed, our Esplanade!

Little boys and girls crowding in every corner of the lovely

precipitous lawn which, amphitheatre-like, stretches down--a hanging

garden of verdure and beauty. The splendid regimental bands of music,

the gaudily uniformed staff officers curvetting on their chargers,

with nodding plumes and heavy, glittering epaulettes (alas! the navy

now seems to have monopolised the gold lace for their shoulder-

straps), and those irresistible sappers with their bushy beards

heading the pageant, and those incomparable drum-majors, who could

fling high in the air their _batons_, and catch them so gracefully in

their descent. How their glittering coats did enrapture the crowd! All

these wondrous sights of our youth, where will we now find them?

The mounting guard, the _Grand Rounds_ at noon, when one of the

regimental bands (there were here nearly always two, and an honorable

rivalry existed between them) struck up a martial strain, whilst every

sentry in the city was relieved. What a treat this was to every one,

without forgetting the Seminary Externes (pupils), with their blue

coats and sashes of green or of variegated tints.

More than one of those lithesome youths came to grief for having

rushed away from the _Gradus ad Parnassum_ to those Elysian Fields,

ostensibly to hear the band--possibly to cast a sly glance at "sweet

sixteen" chatting with the _Militaires_ off duty. Here,

too, was the spot where amateurs came to hear new pieces of music--the

latest from London. Durham Terrace was the favoured locality from

whence the new waltz--the fashionable march--the latest opera--was

launched into city existence; from thence it found its way to the

_salons_ of the wealthy: such the history of _Di tanti palpiti_ and

other sweet emanations of great masters.

Where, now, are those squads of jolly tars, in navy blue,

irrepressible in their humors when on shore, far from the quarterdecks

of the trim frigates anchored under Cape Diamond: upsetting the cake-

stands, the spruce beer kegs--helping open-handed to the contents the

saucy street urchins, or, handing round, amidst the startled

wayfarers, pyramids of horse cakes, trays of barley-sugar and

peppermints, like real princes dispensing the coin of the realm. Where

are those noisy gangs of swaggering raftsmen--those _voyageurs_ from

the _pays d'en haut_, with their glittering costumes--hats festooned

with red or blue ribbons, sashes of variegated colors, barred shirts--

tightly wedged, three by three, in _calèches_, like Neapolitans--

patrolling the streets--interlarding a French song occasionally with

an oath, tolerably profane--at all times to be met, whether in the

light of day or the still hours of night. No police in those halcyon

days; but with the thickening shades of evening issued forth that

venerable brotherhood, the City Watch.

The watch, did we say? Where are now these dreamy wanderers of the

night, carolling forth, like the muezzin in Eastern cities, their

hourly calls, "All's well!" "Fine night!" "Bad weather!" as the case

might be--equally ready with their rattles to sound the dread alarm of

fire, or with their long _bâtons_ to capture belated midnight

brawlers, that is, when they saw they had a good chance of escaping

capture themselves. Their most formidable foes were not the thieves,

but the gay Lotharios and high-fed swells of the time, returning from

late dinners, and who made it a duty, nay, a crowning glory, to thrash

the Watch! Where now are those practical jokers who made collections

of door-knockers (the house-bell was not then known), exchanged sign-

boards from shop-doors, played unconscionable tricks on the simple-

minded peasants on market-days--surreptitiously crept in at suburban

balls, in the guise of the evil one, and, by the alarm they at times

created, unwittingly helped _Monsieur le Curé_ to frown down upon

these mundane junkettings.

One of these escapades is still remembered here. [79]

Four of these gentlemanly practical jokers, one night, habited in

black like the Prince of Darkness, drove silently through the suburbs

in a _cariole_ drawn by two coal-black steeds, and meeting with a

well-known citizen, overcome by drink, asleep in the snow, they

silently but vigorously seized hold of him with an iron grip; a

_cahot_ and physical pain having restored him to consciousness,

he devoutly _crossed_ himself, and, presto! was hurled into another

snow-drift. Next day all Quebec had heard in amazement how, when and

where Beelzebub and his infernal crew had been seen careering in state

after nightfall. Oh! the jolly days and gay nights of olden times!

But the past had other figures more deserving of our sympathy. The

sober-sided sires of the frolicsome gentry just described: the

respected tradesmen who had added dollar to dollar to build up an

independence--whose savings their children were squandering so

recklessly; those worthy citizens who had filled without stipend

numerous civic offices, with a zeal, a whole-heartedness seldom met

with in the present day--at once churchwardens, justices of the peace,

city fathers, members of societies for the promotion of agriculture,

of education, for the prevention of fires; who never sat up later than

nine of the clock p.m., except on those nights when they went to the

old Parliament Building to listen in awe to fiery Papineau or eloquent

Bourdages thunder against the _Bureaucracy_; who subscribed and

paid liberally towards every work of religion, of charity, of

patriotism; who every Saturday glanced with trembling eye over the

columns of the _Official Gazette_, to ascertain whether Government had

not dismissed them from the Militia or Commission of the Peace, for

having attended a public meeting, and having either proposed or

seconded a motion backing up Papineau and censuring the Governor.

Thrilling--jocund--simple war-like time of 1837, where art thou

flown?"

The "sunny Esplanade," the "Club," the "Platform," in those days "rather

small," the "Rink," "Montmorency Falls," "Lake Charles," the "Citadel" and

its "hog's-back," it would appear, inspired the bard of the 25th King's

Own Borderers--for years forming part of our garrison--on this favourite

regiment embarking for England, to waft to the old Rock the following

poetic tribute.—

_FAREWELL TO QUEBEC._

Adieu, ye joys of fair Quebec!

We've got what's coarsely termed the sack.

Adieu, kind homes that we have entered;

What hopes and joys are around ye centered!

Adieu, ye flights of Lower Town stairs!

To mount you often, no one cares.

Adieu, that Club, with cook whose skill

Makes none begrudge his dinner bill.

Adieu, O sunny Esplanade!

You suit us loungers to a shade.

Adieu, thou Platform, rather small,

For upper-ten, the band and all.

And Music Hall! adieu to thee!

Ne'er kinder audiences we'll see;

There on each 'Stadacona' night,

'Ye antient citie' proves its right

To boast of beauty, whose fair fame,

To us at Malta even came.

Adieu, O Rink, and 'thrilling steel,'

Another sort of thrill we feel,

As eye entranced, those forms we follow,

And see the Graces beaten hollow.

Adieu, John's Gate! your mud and mire

Must end in time, _as does each fire_!

Adieu, that pleasant four-mile round,

By bilious subs so useful found.

Adieu, Cathedral! and that choir,

All eye and ear could well desire.

Adieu, that service--half-past three—

And chance walks after, home to tea.

And 'city fathers,' too, adieu!

Sorry we shan't know more of you.

Adieu, your daughters passing fair,

In dancing, skating, who so rare?

Adieu, too soon, O Citadel!

Adieu, hogs-back, we like thee well,

Though when on _poudré_ days we've crossed,

Noses and ears we've all but lost.

Adieu, to Montmorency's Fall!

Adieu, ye ice-cones large and small!

Who can forget the _traîneau's_ leap

From off that icy height, so steep;

It takes your breath as clean away

As plunge in air--at best you may

Get safely down, and borne along,

Run till upset; but ah! if wrong

At first, you take to turning round,

The _traîneau_ leaves you, and you're found

Down at the bottom, rolling still,

Shaken and bruised and feeling ill.

Adieu, ye lakes and all the fishing!

To cast a fly we've long been wishing.

One last adieu! sorry are we

That this must be our p.p.c.!

Folly to think we'll feel resigned

In leaving you, who've proved so kind.

Our bark of happiness goes wreck,

In quitting you, far-famed Quebec!

_--P.P.C., of the 25th K.O.B._

Our thoroughfares, our promenades, even in those dreary months, when the

northern blast howls over the Canadian landscape, have some blithsome

gleams of sunshine. Never shall we forget one bright, frosty January

afternoon, about four o'clock, in the year 1872, when solitary, though

not sad, standing on Durham [80] Terrace, was unveiled to us "a most

magnificent picture, a scene of glorified nature painted by the hand of

the Creator. The setting sun had charged the skies with all its gorgeous

heraldry of purple and crimson and gold, and the tints were diffused and

reflected through fleecy clouds, becoming softer and richer through

expansion. The mountain tops, wood-crowned, where the light and shadow

appeared to be struggling for mastery, stood out in relief from the white

plain, and stretching away in indistinct, dreamy distances finally seemed

to blend with the painted skies. The ice-covered bay was lit up with

glowing shades, in contrast with the deep blue of the clear water beyond;

from which the island rose, and into which the point jutted with grand

picturesqueness; the light played through the frost-adorned, but still

sombre pines, and spread out over deserted fields. Levis and the south

shore received not so much of the illumination, and the grimness of the

Citadel served as a contrast and a relief to the eye bewildered with the

unaccustomed grandeur. But as the sun sank deeper behind the eternal

hills, shadows began to fall, and the bright colours toned down to the

grey of dusk, stars shone out, the grey was chased away, and the azure,

diamond-dotted skies told not of the glory of sunset which had so shortly

before suffused them."--(_Morning Chronicle_.)

We have just seen described the incomparable panorama which a winter

sunset disclosed from the lofty promenade, to which the Earl of Dufferin

has bequeathed his name. Let us now accompany one of our genial summer

butterflies, fluttering through the mazes of old Stadacona escorting a

bride; let us listen to W. D. Howells in the WEDDING JOURNEY. "Nothing, I

think, more enforces the illusion of Southern Europe in Quebec than the

Sunday-night promenading on the Durham (now Dufferin) Terrace. This is the

ample span on the brow of the cliff to the left of the Citadel, the

noblest and most commanding position in the whole city, which was formerly

occupied by the old Castle of St. Louis, where dwelt the brave Count

Frontenac and his splendid successors of the French _régime_. The

castle went the way of Quebec by fire some forty years ago (23rd January,

1834), and Lord Durham levelled the site and made it a public promenade. A

stately arcade of solid masonry supports it on the brink of the rock, and

an iron parapet incloses it; there are a few seats to lounge upon, and

some idle old guns for the children to clamber over and play with. A soft

twilight had followed the day, and there was just enough obscurity to hide

from a willing eye the Northern and New World facts of the scene, and to

leave in more romantic relief the citadel dark against the mellow evening,

and the people gossiping from window to window across the narrow streets

of the Lower Town. The Terrace itself was densely thronged, and there was

a constant coming and going of the promenaders, and each formally paced

back and forth upon the planking for a certain time, and then went quietly

home, giving place to new arrivals. They were nearly all French, and they

were not generally, it seemed, of the first fashion, but rather of

middling condition in life; the English being represented only by a few

young fellows, and now and then a red-faced old gentleman with an Indian

scarf trailing from his hat. There were some fair American costumes and

faces in the crowd, but it was essentially Quebecian. The young girls,

walking in pairs, or with their lovers, had the true touch of provincial

unstylishness, the young men had the ineffectual excess of the second-rate

Latin dandy, the elder the rude inelegance of a _bourgeoisie_ in them; but

a few better-figured _avocats_ or _notaires_ (their profession was as

unmistakable as if they carried their well-polished door-plates upon their

breasts), walked and gravely talked with each other. The non-American

character of the scene was not less vividly marked in the fact, that each

person dressed according to his own taste, and frankly indulged private

shapes and colours. One of the promenaders was in white, even to his

canvas shoes; another, with yet bolder individuality, appeared in perfect

purple. It had a strange, almost portentous effect when these two

startling figures met as friends and joined with each other in the

promenade with united arms; but the evening was beginning to darken round

them, and presently the purple comrade was merely a sombre shadow beside

the glimmering white.

The valleys and the heights now vanished; but the river defined itself by

the varicolored light of the ships and steamers that lay, dark, motionless

hulks upon its broad breast; the lights of Point Levis swarmed upon the

other shore; the Lower Town, two hundred feet below them, stretched an

alluring mystery of clustering roofs and lamp-lit windows, and dark and

shining streets around the mighty rock, mural-crowned. Suddenly a

spectacle peculiarly Northern and characteristic of Quebec revealed

itself; a long arch brightened over the northern horizon; the tremulous

flames of the aurora, pallid violet or faintly tinged with crimson, shot

upward from it, and played with a vivid apparition and evanescence to the

zenith. While the stranger looked, a gun boomed from the Citadel, and the

wild, sweet notes of the bugle sprang out upon the silence."

_THE LOWER TOWN._

On bidding adieu to the lofty plateau which constitutes the Upper Town, on

our way to an antiquarian ramble in the narrow, dusty, or muddy

thoroughfares of the Lower (as it was formerly styled) the Low Town, we

shall cast a glance, a glance only, at the facade of the City Post Office,

on the site of which, until razed in 1871, stood that legendary, haunted

old house, "LE CHIEN D'OR." Having fully described it elsewhere, [81] let

us hurry on, merely looking up as we pass, to the gilt tablet and

inscription and its golden dog, gnawing his bone, pretty much as he

appeared one hundred and twenty-two years ago, to Capt. John Knox, of the

43rd Regt., on his entering Quebec, after its capitulation on the 18th

September, 1759. History has indeed shed very little light on the Golden

Dog and its inscription since that date, but romance has seized hold of

him, and Kirby, Marmette, Soulard and others have enshrined both with the

halo of their imagination. In 1871 the corner stone of the "Chien d'Or"

was unearthed; a leaden plate disclosed the following inscription:--

"NICOLAS LAQUIN

Dit PHILIBER,

_M'a posé le 2e Aoust,_

1735."

We clip the following from KNOX'S JOURNAL, of the siege of Quebec in 1759,

at which he was both an actor and an eye-witness:--

"On the right of the descent, leading to the low town, stands a

stately old house, said to be the first built of stone in this city

(Quebec), and over the front door of it is engraved a dog gnawing a

large, fleshy bone, which he has got under and between his fore-feet,

with the following whimsical inscription:--

"Je suis le chien qui ronge l'os,

Sans en perdre an seul morceau;

Le temp viendra, qui n'est pas venu,

Je mordrai celui, qui m'aura mordû."

"The true meaning of this device I never could learn, though I made

all possible inquiries, without being gratified with the least

information respecting its allusion. I have been informed that the

first proprietor of the house was a man of great natural abilities,

and possessed a plentiful fortune, which he, after many

disappointments and losses in trade, had scraped together by means of

the most indefatigable industry. Now, whether the foregoing device had

any reference to these particulars of his own private affairs, or that

we may rather suppose the bone with flesh on it to resemble Canada,

and the dog an emblem of fidelity, to represent the French settled

there as if determined faithfully to defend that colony for their King

and country against the savage natives, who may perhaps be alluded to

by the two last lines of the inscription, I will not take upon me to

determine, but submit it to the more penetrating capacity of the

curious reader."--(KNOX'S JOURNAL, Vol. II., p. 149.)

There are two ways of arriving at this El Dorado of commerce: an easy,

expeditious, and, it is believed a safe passage, originated by our

enterprising fellow-townsman, W. A. G. Griffith, Esq.--the _Terrace

Elevator_. The ascent or descent by the elevator occupies fifty seconds

of time, at the moderate cost of three cents per head. The elevator,

opened to the public on 10th February, 1880, was erected at a cost of

about $30,000. Whether it is placed in the most suitable spot remains to

be seen.

_THE ELEVATOR._

"The elevator is worked by the weight of water; this necessitates

there always being a sufficient supply in the tank at the top of the

incline, which is pumped by a 12-horse-power steam pump from a large

tank at the foot. The _modus operandi_ is as follows: Suppose a

person enters the car at the foot of the incline to be carried to the

top, the bell-boy at once rings a bell to notify the brakesman to go

ahead; weight is required to bring the car and passenger from the foot

to the top, and both cars being built on tanks with necessary valves

for the entrance of the water from the upper tank and for the exit of

the same water when it reaches the bottom of the track, which the

large tank below receives, the brakesman proceeds to open one of the

water valves and allows sufficient water to enter the car tank until

it outweighs the car and passengers at the foot; the cars are now

supposed to be in motion, with the bell-boy at the foot and brakesman

at the top of the incline, who duties are to watch that everything

runs smoothly and that the track is clear of all obstructions. Nothing

can happen inside the cars during the transit that is not noticed by

the employés; now let us suppose that while in motion one of the

cables breaks, there is a second cable to take all the strain, which

is never over five tons, and each cable will lift at least 30 tons,

but should it happen by some extraordinary oversight that there

existed flaws in the cables which had not been noticed, so that first

one cable broke and then the second also broke, it would probably be

thought that an accident must occur. No such catastrophe would happen,

because under the cars and out of sight there are two enormously

strong chisels bolted to the iron tank, and running within half an

inch of the trestle work; immediately the strain is taken off the

cables, or immediately the two cables break, the two chisels would

enter the strong wooden beams that support the iron rails and hold the

cars firmly in position. Finally, let us suppose that these chisels

also gave way, it must be said surely an accident is now inevitable;

but no, for at the top as well as at the foot of the track there are

two air buffers, against which the cars strike on their ascent and

descent. So nicely adjusted are they, and so ingeniously are they

constructed, that although the cars may descend with great force

against these air buffers, the resistance being gradually developed as

the air compresses, there will be but little, if any, extra shock.

Should the brakesman happen to be absent from his post, we are

informed by the Manager that no irregularities would occur in

consequence, as a governor regulates the speed at which the cars are

to go, and on their arrival the air buffers come into play and receive

them. So well has the brakesman the cars under his control that at one

stroke of the bell he can stop them instantaneously wherever they may

be on the track. The brakes are arranged in such a way that it would

seem to be quite impossible for both of them to be out of order at the

same time; but even if they were, nothing could happen, as the air

buffers would check the force of any extra shock. It may be thought

that an enormous quantity of water must be used to work this

machinery, seeing that there is a 5,000 gallon water-tank at the top

of the incline and a 10,000 gallon tank at the foot, but such is not

the case, the water which is pumped up from the lower to the upper

tank returns again to the lower one, and so the same water is used

over and over again; indeed, the amount of water wasted is not nearly

as much as is consumed by a private family. In confirmation of this

statement, only a halt-inch tap is used to supply the tanks, and the

Manager informs us that frequently for days together the tap is not

turned on either at night or day."

How our worthy grandfathers would have shrugged their shoulders had such

an innovation been mooted eighty years ago. The other mode of penetrating

into the Lower Town is through that steep and tortuous hill--called

Mountain Hill by the English, Côte de la Montagne by the French.

This is the hill which has re-echoed the tread of so many regiments, on

which so many Governors, French and English, have, on divers occasions,

heard themselves enthusiastically cheered by eager crowds; the hill which

Viceroys of France and of England, from the ostentatious Marquis de Tracy

to the proud Earl of Durham, ascended on their way to Government House,

surrounded by their brilliant staffs and saluted by cannon and with

warlike flourish of trumpets! In earlier times the military and religious

display was blended with an aroma of literature and elaborate Indian

oratory, combining prose and poetry.

Francis Parkman will tell us of what took place on the arrival, on the

28th July, 1658, of the Viscount D'Argenson, the Governor of the colony:--

"When Argenson arrived to assume the government, a curious greeting had

awaited him. The Jesuits asked him to dine; vespers followed the repast;

and then they conducted him to a hall where the boys of their school--

disguised, one as the Genius of New France, one as the Genius of the

Forest, and others as Indians of various friendly tribes--made him

speeches by turn, in prose and in verse. First, Pierre du Quet, who played

the Genius of New France, presented his Indian retinue to the Governor, in

a complimentary harangue. Then four other boys, personating French

colonists, made him four flattering addresses, in French verse. Charles

Denis, dressed as a Huron, followed, bewailing the ruin of his people, and

appealing to Argenson for aid. Jean François Bourdon, in the character of

an Algonquin, next advanced on the platform, boasted his courage, and

declared that he was ashamed to cry like the Huron. The Genius of the

Forest now appeared, with a retinue of wild Indians from the interior,

who, being unable to speak French, addressed the Governor in their native

tongues, which the Genius proceeded to interpret. Two other boys in the

character of prisoners just escaped from the Iroquois, then came forward

imploring aid in piteous accents; and in conclusion the whole troop of

Indians from far and near laid their bows and arrows at the feet of

Argenson, and hailed him as their chief.

Besides these mock Indians, a crowd of genuine savages had gathered at

Quebec to greet the new "Ononthio." On the next day--at his own cost, as

he writes to a friend--he gave them a feast, consisting of seven large

kettlesful of Indian corn, peas, prunes, sturgeon, eels and fat, which

they devoured, he says, after having first sung me a song, after their

fashion."

Probably one of the most gorgeous displays on record was that attending

the arrival of the great Marquis of Tracy, in 1665. He came with a

brilliant staff, a crowd of young nobles; and accompanied by two hundred

soldiers, to be followed by a thousand more of the dashing regiment of

Carignan-Salières. He sailed up the St. Lawrence, and on the 30th of June,

1665, anchored in the basin of Quebec. The broad, white standard, blazoned

with the arms of France, proclaimed the representative of royalty; and

Point Levi and Cape Diamond and the distant Cape Tourmente roared back the

sound of saluting cannon. All Quebec was on the ramparts or at the landing

place, and all eyes were strained at the two vessels as they slowly

emptied their crowded decks into the boats alongside. The boats at length

drew near, and the Lieutenant-General and his suite landed on the quay

with a pomp such as Quebec had never seen before.

Tracy was a veteran of sixty-two, portly and tall, "one of the largest men

I ever saw," writes Mother Mary (Marie de l'Incarnation), but he was

sallow with disease, for fever had seized him, and it had fared ill with

him on the long voyage. The Chevalier de Chaumont walked at his side, and

young nobles surrounded him, gorgeous in lace and ribbons, and majestic in

leonine wigs. Twenty-four guards in the King's livery led the way,

followed by four pages and six valets; [82] and thus, while the Frenchmen

shouted and the Indians stared, the august procession threaded the streets

of the Lower Town, and climbed the steep pathway that scaled the cliffs

above. Breathing hard, they reached the top, passed on the left the

dilapidated walls of the Fort and the shed of mingled wood and masonry

which then bore the name of the Castle de St. Louis; passed on the right

the old house of Couillard and the site of Laval's new Seminary, and soon

reached the square betwixt the Jesuit College and the Cathedral.

The bells were ringing in a frenzy of welcome. Laval in pontificals,

surrounded by priests and Jesuits, stood waiting to receive the Deputy of

the King, and as he greeted Tracy and offered him the holy water, he

looked with anxious curiosity to see what manner of man he was. The signs

were auspicious. The deportment of the Lieutenant-General left nothing to

desire. A _prie-dieu_ had been placed for him. He declined it. They

offered him a cushion, but he would not have it, and fevered as he was, he

knelt on the bare pavement with a devotion that edified every beholder.

_Te Deum_ was sung and a day of rejoicing followed. [83]

In our day, we can recall but one pageant at all equal: the roar of

cannon, &c., attending the advent of the great Earl of Durham, [84] but

there were noticeable fewer "priests," fewer "Jesuits," and less

"kneeling" in the procession. There was something oriental in the vice-

regal pageantry. Line-of-battle ships--stately frigates, twelve in number

--the _Malabar_, _Hastings_, _Cornwallis_, _Inconstant_, _Hercules_,

_Pique_, _Charybdis_, _Pearl_, _Vestal_, _Medea_, _Dee_ and _Andromache_

visited that summer our shores, a suitable escort to the able, proud,

humane, [85] but unlucky Viceroy and High Commissioner, with his clever

advisers--the Turtons, Bullers, Wakefields, Hansomes, Derbyshires,

Dunkins, _cum multis aliis_. The Dictator was determined to "make a

country or mar a career." He has left us a country.

That warlike, though festive summer of 1838, with our port studded with

three-deckers and spanking frigates, was long remembered in the annals of

the _bon ton_. Some men-of-war were in especial favour. A poetical

lament by the Quebec ladies was wafted to the departing officers of H. M.

frigate _Inconstant_, the words by the Laureate of the period, George

W. Wicksteed, of Ottawa. This effusion includes the names of every vessel

in the fleet _in italics_, and of several of the officers.

_THE LADIES' ADDRESS TO THE INCONSTANTS._

_Written by G. W. Wicksteed._

We saw the _Hastings_ hasting off,

And never made a fuss.

The _Malabar's_ departure waked

No malady in us.

We were not piqued to lose the _Pique_;

Each lady's heart at ease is,

Altho' the _Dees_ are on the seas,

And gone the _Hercules_--es.

Our parting with the _Andromache_

Like Hector's not at all is;

Nor are we Washingtons to seek

To capture a _Cornwallis_.

And no _Charybdis_ ever caught

Our hearts in passion's whirls;

There's not a girl among us all

Has ever fished for _Pearls_.

The _Vestals_ with their sacred flame

Were not the sparks we wanted;

We've looked _Medeas_ in the face,

And yet were not enchanted.

But when our dear _Inconstants_ go,

Our grief shall know no bounds,

The dance shall have no joy for us,

The song no merry sounds.

All dismal then shall be the waltz,

The dull quadrille as bad,

And wearily we'll hurry through

The joyless galopade.

We'll gaze upon each changeful cloud

As through the air it skims,

We'll think of fickle fortune's wheel,

And fashion's turns and whims--

Sweet emblems of _Inconstancy_

In each of these we'll find,

And our _Inconstants_ constantly

We'll fondly bear in mind.

And spite of Durham's fetes and balls,

We'll pine and mourn and mope

Our long, long winter season through,

As girls without a _Hope_.

And when the spring shall come again,

Our hearts, to pleasure dead,

Shall sigh for spring without an S,

And wish for _Pring_ instead.

Unless, indeed, sweet spring with _Hope_

Those hearts again should bless,

And bring our dear _Inconstants_ back,

And spring without an S.

Quebec, 6th July, 1838.

(From _Waifs in Verse_, by G. W. Wicksteed, Q.C., Law Clerk, House of

Commons of Canada, 1878.)

To which melting address the "Inconstants," on their way to Britain,

feelingly replied. Our space allows us to insert but a few stanzas of this

poetical lament.

All language fails to tell how much

We value your address,

Or say how deeply we partake

The feelings you express.

Those _Hastings_ are a hasty set,

And left you in a hurry;

Those _Malabars_ are malapert,

And hot as Indian curry.

Be true, and then the breath of May

Shall fill our sails and bring

Our willing steps and eager hearts,

And _Spring_--and _Pring_--and _Ring_.

And each of you for one of ours

Shall change her maiden name,

And as we are all _Inconstants_, you

Of course will be the same.

Kamouraska, August, 1838.

Here we stand on the principal artery of the commerce of the city, St.

Peter street, having a width of only twenty-four feet. St. Peter street is

probably not so ancient as its sister, Sault-au-Matelot street. St. Peter

street was so named in memory of Messire Pierre le Voyer d'Argenson, who,

in 1658, came to Quebec as successor to M. de Lauzon. M. d'Argenson was,

in 1661, succeeded by the Baron d'Avaugour.

On the site on which the Quebec Bank [86] was erected in 1863, there stood

the offices, the vaults, and the wharf of the well-known merchant, John

Lymburner. There were three Lymburners: John, lost at sea in the fall of

1775, Mathew, and Adam, the most able of the three; they were, no doubt

related to each other. The loyalty of Adam, towards the British Crown, in

1775, was more than suspected; his oratorical powers, however, and his

knowledge of constitutional law, made him a fit delegate to England in

1791, to plead the cause of the colony before the Metropolitan

authorities. His speech on the occasion is reported in the _Canadian

Review_, published at Montreal in 1826.

Colonel Henry Caldwell states that, in 1775, Governor Guy Carleton had

ordered a cannon to be pointed from the wharf on which stood Lymburner's

house, with the intention to open fire upon the _Bostonais_, should

they attempt a surprise on the Sault-au-Matelot quarter. Massive and

strongly built stone vaults (probably of French origin), are still extant

beneath the house adjoining, to the south of this last, belonging to the

heirs Atkinson.

On the site of the offices of Mr. McGie stood, in 1759, the warehouse of

M. Perrault, _l'aîné_, from a great number of letters and invoice-bills

found in the garret, and which a friend [87] has placed at our disposal,

it would seem that M. Perrault had extensive commercial relations both in

Canada and in France. A curious letter to M. Perrault, from Bigot's

notorious councillor, Estebe, then in Bordeaux, was found in this

tenement. It discloses a sad state of things in Old France. This old

document dates of 24th February, 1760, a few months subsequent to the

Battle of the Plains and a few weeks prior to that of Ste. Foye, in April,

1760.

"BORDEAUX, 24th February, 1760.

"_To Monsieur Perrault,_

Quebec:

"SIR,--It was with heartfelt pleasure I received your favour of the

7th November last, since, in spite of your misfortunes, it apprized me

of the fact that both you and your lady were well.

"I feel grateful for the sympathy you express in our troubles during

our passage from Quebec to Bordeaux. I wish I could as easily forget

the misfortunes of Canada as I do the annoyances we suffered on the

voyage.

"We learned, _via_ England, by the end of October last, the

unfortunate fate of Quebec. You can imagine how we felt on hearing of

such dreadful news I could contain neither my tears nor my regrets on

learning the loss of a city and country to which I owe everything, and

to which I am as sincerely attached as any of the natives. We

flattered ourselves that the silence the English had kept during all

last summer on their operation was of good omen for us, and that they

would be ignominiously compelled to raise the siege; we had even an

indistinct knowledge of the repulse they had met with at Montmorency

(31st July, 1759); we knew that our troops followed them closely

wherever they attempted to land. We have erred like you in the hopes

we cherished. What fatality, what calamity and how many events unknown

to us have led to your downfall? You do not know, my dear Sir, of the

extent of your misfortunes. You imagine that the loss of the remainder

of the colony is close at hand. You are right. This cannot be

otherwise, since the relief which is sent to you from France cannot

prevent that. The small help which Canadians expected from the payment

of some Treasury notes is taken away from them; none are paid since

the 15th of October last. This, then, is the overwhelming blow to all

our hopes! The Treasury notes of the other colonies are generally in

the same predicament; the King pays none, and the nation groans under

taxation. No credit, no confidence, anywhere; no commerce nor

shipments; a general bankruptcy in all the cities of France. The

kingdom is in the greatest desolation possible. Our armies have been

beaten everywhere; our navy no more exists--our ships have been either

captured or burnt on the coasts where the enemy has driven them

ashore, Admiral de Conflans having been defeated in getting out of the

harbor of Brest. In one word, we are in a state of misery and

humiliation without precedent. The finances of the King are in fearful

disorder; he has had to send his plate to the Mint. The _Seigneurs_

have followed his example, and private individuals are compelled to

sell their valuables in order to live and pay the onerous taxes which

weigh on them. At the present moment, by Royal order, an inventory is

being taken of the silver of all the churches of the kingdom. No doubt

it will have to be sent to the Mint, and payment will be made when

that of the Treasury notes takes place--that is, _when it pleases

God_. Such is a summary of what now occurs here. How I regret, my dear

Sir, the merry days I spent in Canada! I would like to be there still

if matters were as formerly. I could own a _turn-out_ there, whereas I

go on foot, like a dog, through the mud of Bordeaux, where I certainly

do not live in the style I did in Quebec. Please God this iron age may

soon end! We flattered ourselves this winter that peace would soon be

proclaimed; it is much talked of, but I see no signs of it. It will,

it is said, require another campaign to complete the ruin, and to

postpone more and more the payment of the Treasury notes. What will be

the ultimate fate of these bills is very hard to say. It is unlikely

any settlement of them will be made before peace is concluded. My

opinion is that nothing will be lost on the bills, which are

registered, but I cannot say the same of the exchange, which is not

registered, since payment has been stopped. The Government has refused

to register any bills, even some which had been sent to me, and which

were payable in 1758. I negotiated some registered ones here and in

Paris at 50 per cent. discount. Non-registered ones are valueless, and

you get few purchasers even for registered bills. Four richly laden

vessels belonging to the West India Company (_Compagnie des Indes_)

have arrived lately. This was very opportune, as the Company was

rather shaky. However, it never failed to pay the "Beaver Bills," and

has even accepted those which had not yet fallen due. Our affairs on

the coast of Coromandel are like the rest--in a bad way. Fears are

entertained for Pondicherry. The English are arming a large expedition

for Martinique. That island will have the same fate as Guadeloupe. The

succor sent out to you, if ever it reaches you, of which I doubt,

consists in six merchant ships, laden with 1,600 tons of provisions,

some munitions of war, and 400 soldiers from Isle Royal. I believe

this relief is sent to you more through a sense of honour than from

any desire (as none exists) to help you. Many flatter themselves you

will retake Quebec this winter. I wish you may, but I do not believe

you will. This would require to be undertaken by experienced and

determined men, and even then such attempts fail. [88] Remember me to

your dear wife. Kiss my little friend (your boy) for me. I reserve him

when he comes to France a gilt horse and a silver carriage. My wife

and family beg to be remembered.

Yours, &c.,

(Sd) ESTEBE.

P.S.--Your brother is always at La Rochelle. Since I am at Bordeaux,

out of 80 vessels which left South America, one only has arrived here.

You can fancy how trade stagnates. A singular distrust exists

everywhere. The exchange of ---- and other good houses is refused.

Those who want to remit to Paris have to get their specie carried.

6th March, 1760.

The hospital of Toulouse is just short of nine millions. Bankrupts

everywhere merchants and others.

St. Peter street has become the general headquarters of the most important

commerce, and of life insurance and fire assurance offices. The financial

institutions are there proudly enthroned: the Bank of Montreal (founded in

1818 and incorporated in 1828), Bank of Quebec (founded in 1817), the

Union Bank (founded in 1865), the Banque Nationale (founded in 1873), the

Bank of British North America (founded in 1836, incorporated in 1840,

opened at Quebec in 1837), the Merchants' Bank (founded in 1861).

In this street resided, in 1774, the Captain Bouchette, who, in the

following year, in his little craft, _Le Gaspé_, brought us back our

brave Governor, Guy Carleton; M. Bouchard, merchant, M. Panet, N.P. (the

father of His Lordship, Bishop B.C. Panet), as also M. Boucher, Harbor

Master of Quebec, "(who was appointed to that post by the Governor, Sir R.

S. Milnes, on the recommendation of the Duke of Kent.)." [89] Boucher had

piloted the vessel, having on board the 7th Regiment, (the Duke's), from

Quebec to Halifax.

The office in which the _Quebec Morning Chronicle_ has been published

since 1847, belonged in 1759 to M. Jean Taché, "President of the

Mercantile Body," "an honest, and sensible man," as appears by _Mémoirs

sur le Canada_, (1749-60). One of our first poets, he composed a poem

"_On the Sea_." The ancestor of the late Sir E. P. Taché, and of the

novelist, Jos. Marmette and others, he possessed, at that period,

extensive buildings on the Napoleon wharf, which were destroyed by fire in

1845, and a house in the country, on the Ste. Foye road, afterwards called

"Holland House," after Major Samuel Holland, our first Provincial

Surveyor-General, whose services as surveyor and engineer were

subsequently so conspicuous at Quebec and at Prince Edward Island.

The _Chronicle_ building, during nearly half a century, was a coffee

house, much frequented by sea-faring men, known as the "Old Neptune" Inn.

The effigy of the sea-god, armed with his formidable trident, placed over

the main entrance, seemed to threaten the passers-by. We can remember, as

yesterday, his colossal proportions. "Old Neptune" [90] has disappeared

about thirty years back.

_THE OLD NEPTUNE INN._

"Shall I not take mine ease in mine Inn."

--_Shakespeare_.

"The Golden Fleece was the oldest tavern in Corinth. It had been the

resort of sea-faring men from the remotest period."--(_Travels of

Herodotus in Greece_, 460 _B.C._)

When the brilliant Henry Ward Beecher pronounced Quebec an _Old

Curiosity Shop_, we are induced to think that amidst its accumulated

antiquarian relics, its church pictures and madonnas, its famous

battle-fields, its historical monuments, massive fortifications and

wondrous scenery,--more than one of the quaint French dwellings with

their peaked gables, and walls four feet thick, must have caught his

observant eye. However striking Ward Beecher's word-painting may be,

it would I opine, have required the marvellous pencil of the author of

"_The House with the Seven Gables_," Nathaniel Hawthorne, becomingly

to portray all the _arcana_ of such a building as the _Chien d'Or_

(the old Post Office), with its ghastly memories of blood and revenge.

The legendary moss clustering round these hoary piles, is not,

however, always dark and gloomy. Love, war, adventure, occasionally

lend them their exciting or their soft glamour. Sometimes the annals

of commerce entwine them with a green wreath--a sure talisman against

the rust of oblivion. It is one of the land marks of commerce we

purpose here briefly to describe.

At the foot of Mountain Hill, lies our chief emporium of news,

labelled for more than a quarter of a century, _Morning Chronicle_

Office. These premises stand on a very conspicuous site, viz., at the

foot of Mountain Hill, the highway from the port to the Upper Town,

direct to the old _Château_ and Citadel--a few rods only from the spot

where Champlain, in 1608, laid the foundations of his extensive

warehouses and dwelling, and close to where, in 1615, he had his

famous gardens. This business stand, for many years past, was owned by

the late Hon. Henry Black; at present it belongs to Hon. Geo. Okill

Stuart, Judge of the Court of Vice Admiralty. Its beginnings brings us

back to the era of the Bourbon sovereigns of Canada, to the

unregretted time (1758), when Intendant Bigot's shoddy _entourage_

held high carnival in famine-stricken Quebec.

In those blighting days, in which Madame de Pompadour reigned in

France, and Madame Pean in Quebec, _rings_ and public robbery

flourished in Canada; but among high officials, all were not corrupt.

There were some memorable exceptions. One of these exceptions was the

worthy, witty, and honest warden of the Quebec merchants, Jean Taché,

"_homme probe et d'esprit_," say old memoirs. Mr. Taché, the "_syndic

des marchands_," was not only an upright and wealthy merchant, he was

also gifted with the poetical fire; he, it was, who wrote the first

French poem issued in Canada, "_Le Tableau de la Mer_."

Jean Taché was also an extensive holder of real estate in and round

Quebec, warehouses (_des voûtes_) on the Napoleon wharf; a country

seat on the Ste. Foye road, subsequently the property of Surveyor-

General Samuel Holland--Holland Farm; lastly, the well-known business

stand, where, in 1847, Mr. St. Michel printed James Bell Forsyth's

news sheet, the _Morning Chronicle_.

Commercial ruin overtook the worthy Lower Town magnate, Monsieur

Taché; his ships and cargoes, during the war of the conquest, like the

rest of poor, deserted Canada, fell into English hands, being captured

at sea; out of the disaster Jean Taché saved naught but his honourable

name.

We fail to trace for a time the fortunes of his Mountain Hill Counting

House. At the dawn of this century the premises were used as a famous

coffee-house, the "Neptune" Inn, [91] a noted place of resort for

merchants, masters and owners of ships. Like the Golden Fleece Tavern

of Corinth, which seems to have sheltered the father of History--

Herodotus--in the year 460 B.C., its "banqueting saloon" was roomy,

though every word uttered there also smacked of the salt water. The

old "Neptune" was probably occasionally looked up in 1807 by the Press

Gang, which, in those days, was not a thing to be laughed at. Witness

the fate of poor Latresse, shot down for refusing to surrender to

Lieut. Andrel, R.N., on trying to make his escape from a tavern in St.

John's suburbs, where he had been attending a dancing party. [92]

Singularly enough, sixty years ago, the leading Lower Town merchants

met in this old tenement of the former "_Syndic des Marchands_"

to establish the first Exchange. Of the resolutions passed at the

meeting thereat, held in 1816, and presided over by an eminent

merchant, John William Woolsey, Esq., subsequently President of the

Quebec Bank, we find a notice in the _Quebec Gazette_, of 12th

December, 1816. [93] They decided to establish a Merchant's Exchange

in the lower part of the "Neptune" Inn. Amongst those present, one

recognizes familiar names--John Jones, George Symes, James Heath,

Robert Melvin, Thomas Edward Brown, &c.

Why was the place called "Neptune" Inn? For the obvious reason that a

large statue of the god of the sea, bearing in one hand a formidable

iron trident, stood over the main entrance in a threatening attitude.

This conspicuous land-mark was known to every British ship-captain

frequenting our port. Right well can the writer of these lines

remember the truculent trident.

But if, even in the days of that excellent landlady, Mrs. Hammond, it

meant to the wearied mariner boundless cheer, the latest London

papers, pipes and soothing rum punch mixed by a comely and cheerful

bar-maid, to the unsophisticated Canadian peasant, attracted to the

Lower Town on market days, it was of evil portent.

With honest Jean Baptiste, more deeply read in the _Petit Catéchisme_

than in heathen mythology, the dreaded god of the sea and his

truculent trident were ominous, in his simple eyes, they symbolised

the Prince of Darkness, "_Le diable et sa fourche_," the terrors of a

hereafter.

This did not, however, prevent Neptune from standing sentry, in the

same exalted spot, for close on forty years, until in fact, having

fallen to pieces by natural decay, it was removed about the time the

Old Neptune Inn became the _Morning Chronicle_ office; the whereabouts

of its _dejecta membra_ are now a dead secret.

The origin of the famed statue had defied the most recondite searchers

of the past. For the following we are indebted to the retentive memory

of that eminently respected authority, the "oldest inhabitant." The

statue of Neptune, says the octogenarian, Robert Urquhart, so well

remembered at the foot of Mountain Hill, was presented to the landlord

of the hotel, George Cossar, formerly butler to Hon. Matthew Bell, who

then owned the St. Lawrence Chambers. It had been the figure-head of

the _Neptune_, a large king's ship, stranded in 1817 on Anticosti.

Would the stranded _Neptune_ of 1817 be the same as the flagship of

Admiral Durell in 1759, the _Neptune_ of 90 guns, to whom the large

bell bearing the word "_Neptune_, 1760," inscribed on, belonged? This

bell, which formerly stood on the Royal Engineers' workshop at Quebec,

was recently taken to Ottawa. The wreck had been bought by John

Goudie, of St. Roch suburb, then a leading ship builder, and, having

to break it up, the figure-head was brought to Quebec, and presented

as above stated.

The following respecting press gangs and the presence of Lord

Nelson, whilst at Quebec in 1782, was contributed by one of the

"oldest inhabitants" to QUEBEC PAST AND PRESENT, but reached too

late for insertion:--

_MY RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PAST._

J. M. LEMOINE, Esq., _Spencer Grange_.

DEAR SIR,--I have much pleasure in acceding to your request to

send you a note of some circumstances connected with the city, in

which seventy-one years of my life--now verging towards eighty--

have been spent. I am familiar with no part of Nelson's career,

except what I heard from my mother's own lips respecting this

brave man. My mother was gifted with a remarkable memory, and

recollected well having herself seen Captain Nelson, when in 1782,

he commanded at Quebec the sloop-of-war Albemarle. "He was erect,

stern of aspect and wore, as was then customary, the _queue_

or pigtail," she often repeated. Her idea of the Quebec young lady

to whom he had taken such a violent fancy, was that her name was

Woolsey--an aunt or elder sister, perhaps, of the late John W.

Woolsey, Esq., President for some years of the Quebec Bank, who

died in 1852, at a very advanced age. According to her, it was a

Mr. Davidson who prevented the imprudent marriage contemplated.

As to the doings of the press gangs in the Lower Town and suburbs,

I can speak from what I saw more than once. Impressing seamen

lasted at Quebec from 1807, until after the battle of Waterloo.

The terror these sea-faring gentlemen created was great. I

remember a fine young fellow who refused to surrender, being shot

through the back with a holster pistol and dying of the wound,

this was in 1807. I can name the following as being seized by

press gangs * * * * * Soon ruses were resorted to by the gay

fellows who wandered after night fall in quest of amusement in the

highways and byways. Her Majesty's soldiers were, of course,

exempt of being impressed into the naval service; so, that our

roving city youths would either borrow coats, or get some made,

similar to the soldiers', to elude the press gang. These ruses

were, however, soon stopped, the press gang, having secured the

services of two city constables, Rosa and ------, who could spot

every city youth and point out the counterfeits.

R. URQUHART.

Quebec, 1st August, 1876.

Parallel with St. Peter street, runs Notre Dame street, which leads us to

the little Church of the Lower Town, named Notre Dame de la Victoire, in

remembrance of the victory achieved in 1690 over Sir William Phipps. This

church was, at a later period, called "Notre Dame des Victoires," in

commemoration of the dispersion by a storm of Admiral Walker's squadron,

in 1711. Bishop Laval had projected the erection of this modest little

church, but the building of it was performed in 1688, under the auspices

of his successor, Bishop St. Vallier, out of funds provided by the Lower

Town ladies. The corner of these streets (St. Peter and Sous-le-Fort

streets) is probably the site of the "Abitation," close to the walks and

garden plots where Champlain cultivated roses and carnations, about the

year 1615.

Fronting the Church of "Notre Dame des Victoires," and on the site now

occupied as Blanchard's Hotel, the ladies of the Ursulines, in 1639, found

a refuge in a humble residence, a sort of shop or store, owned at that

period by the Sieur Juchereau des Châtelets, at the foot of the path

(_sentier_), leading up to the mountain (foot of Mountain street), and

where the then Governor, M. de Montmagny, as is related, sent them their

first Quebec meal.

The locality possesses other pleasant memories: the good, the youthful,

the beautiful Madame de Champlain, about the year 1620, here catechised

and instructed, under the shade of the trees, the young Huron Indians, in

the principles of Christianity. History has related their surprise and joy

on seeing their features reflected in the small mirror which their

benefactress wore suspended at her side, "close to her heart," as they

said, according to the then prevailing custom.

In 1682 a conflagration broke out in the Lower Town, which, besides the

numerous vaults and stores, reduced into ashes a considerable portion of

the buildings. Denonville, on the 20th August, 1685, wrote to Paris,

asking His Most Christian Majesty to contribute 200 crowns worth of

leather fire-buckets, and in 1691 the historical Dutch pump was imported

to throw water on fires. At a later period, 1688, "Notre Dame de la

Victoire" Church was begun on part of the ruins. Let us open the second

volume of the "_Cours d'Histoire du Canada_," by the Abbé Ferland, and let

us read: "Other ruins existed in 1684, in the commercial centre of the

Lower Town; these ruins consisted of blackened and dilapidated walls.

Champlain's old warehouse, which, from the hands of the Company

(_Compagnie de la Nouvelle France_), had passed into those of the

King (Louis XIV.), had remained in the same state as when left after the

great fire which, some years previously, had devastated the Lower Town."

In 1684 Monseigneur de Laval obtained this site or _emplacement_ from

M. de la Barre for the purpose of erecting a supplementary chapel for the

use of the inhabitants in the Lower Town. This gift, however, was ratified

only later, in favor of M. de St. Valier, in the month of September, 1685.

Messieurs de Denonville and de Meules caused a clear and plain title or

patent of this locality to be issued for the purpose of erecting a church

which, in the course of time, was built by the worthy Bishop and named

"Notre Dame de la Victoire." The landing for small craft, in the vicinity

of the old market (now the Finlay [94] Market), was called "La Place du

Débarquement," or simply "La Place."

It is in this vicinity, a little to the west, under the silent shade of a

wood near the garden which Champlain had laid out, that the historical

interview, in 1608, which saved the colony, took place. The secret was of

the greatest importance; it is not to be wondered at if Champlain's trusty

pilot, Captain Testu, deemed it proper to draw the founder of Quebec aside

into the neighbouring wood and make known to him the villanous plot which

one of the accomplices, Antoine Natel, lock-smith, had first disclosed to

him under the greatest secrecy. The chief of the conspiracy was one Jean

du Val, who had come to the country with Champlain.

In rear of and parallel to St. Peter street, a new and wide street, called

after one of the Governors of Canada--Dalhousie street--was opened

recently, and promises to be before long the leading commercial artery.

Several extensive warehouses have been erected on Dalhousie street since

it was opened to the public, in 1877, by the city Corporation purchasing

from St. James street to St. Andrew's wharf a strip of land, of 60 feet in

breadth, from the landed proprietors of this neighbourhood. At the south-

western extremity a noble dry goods store has just been erected by Mr.

George Alford; it is four stories high, 155 feet long and 72 feet wide,

and faces on Dalhousie, Laporte, Union Lane and Finlay Market. It is

occupied by a wealthy and ancient dry goods firm, founded in Montreal

about 1810, with a branch in Quebec, in 1825. The original founders were

Messrs. Robertson, Masson & Larocque; this firm was subsequently changed

to Robertson, Masson, Strang & Co., to Masson, Bruyère, Thibaudeau & Co.,

to Langevin, Thibaudeau, Bruyère & Co., to Thibaudeau, Thomas & Co., to

Thibaudeau, Généreux & Co., and finally to Thibaudeau Frères & Co., at

Quebec; Thibaudeau Bros. & Co., Montreal; Thibaudeau Bros. & Co., London,

Manchester and Manitoba.

In the early days of the colony, the diminutive market space, facing the

front of Notre Dame Church, Lower Town, as well as the Upper Town Market,

was used for the infliction of corporal punishment, or the pillory, or the

execution of culprits.

On the area facing the Lower Town Church on Notre Dame street, the plan of

the city, drawn by the engineer, Jean François or Jehan Bourdon, in 1641,

shows a bust of Louis XIII., long since removed; this market, which dates

from the earliest times of the colony, as well as the vacant area (until

recently the Upper Town market, facing the Basilica), was used as a place

for corporal punishment, and for the exhibition in the pillory of public

malefactors.

"Among the incidents," says Mr. T. P. Bédard, "which claimed the privilege

of exciting the curiosity of the good folks of Quebec (then 1680,

inhabited by 1,345 souls,) was reckoned the case of Jean Rathier, charged

with murdering a girl of eighteen--Jeanne Couc. The case had been tried at

Three Rivers, and Rathier sentenced to have his legs broken [95] with an

iron bar, and afterwards to be hung. Judgment had been confirmed. An

unforseen hitch arose: the official hangman was dead; how then was Rathier

to be hung? The officers of justice cut the Gordian knot, by tendering to

Rathier, in lieu of the halter, the position, little envied, of hangman.

He accepted. Some years after, the wife and the daughter of Rathier were

accused and found guilty as accomplices in a robbery; the daughter, as the

receiver of the stolen goods, was sentenced to be whipped, but in secret,

at the General Hospital by the nun appointed Provost Marshal (_Maitress

de Discipline_), and the mother was also adjudged to be whipped, but

publicly in the streets of the city. This incident furnished the singular

and ludicrous spectacle of a husband publicly whipping his wife with

impunity to himself, as he was acting under the authority of justice."--

(_Première Administration de Frontenac_, _p._ 39.)

The whip and pillory did not go out with the old _régime_. The _Quebec

Gazette_ of 19th June, 1766, mentions the whipping, on the Upper and Lower

Town markets, of Catherine Berthrand and Jeanotte Blaize, by the hand of

the executioneer, for having "borrowed" (a pretty way of describing petty

larceny), a silver spoon from a gentleman of the town, without leave or

without intention of returning it.

For male reprobates, such as Jean May and Louis Bruseau, whose punishment

for petty larceny is noted in the Gazette of 11th August, 1766, the

whipping was supplemented with a walk--tied at the cart's tail--from the

Court House door to St. Roch and back to the Court House. May had to whip

Bruseau and Bruseau had to whip May the day following, at ten in the

morning.

Let us revert to Captain Testu's doings. The plot was to strangle

Champlain, pillage the warehouse, and afterwards betake themselves to the

Spanish and Basque vessels, laying at Tadousac. As, at that period, no

Court of Appeals existed in "_la Nouvelle France_"--far less was a

"Supreme Court" thought of--the trial of the chief of the conspiracy was

soon dispatched says Champlain, and the Sieur Jean du Val was "_presto_

well and duly hanged and strangled at Quebec aforesaid, and his head

affixed to the top of a pike-staff planted on the highest eminence of the

Fort." The ghastly head of this traitor, on the end of a pike-staff, near

Notre Dame street, must certainly have had a sinister effect at twilight.

But the brave Captain Testu, the saviour of Champlain and of Quebec--what

became of him? Champlain has done him the honour of naming him; here the

matter ended. Neither monument, nor poem, nor page of history in his

honour; nothing was done in the way of commemorating his devotion. As in

the instance of the illustrious man, whose life he had saved, his grave is

unknown. According to the Abbé Tanguay, none of his posterity exist at

this day.

During the siege of 1759, we notice in _Panet's Journal_, "that the Lower

Town was a complete mass of smoking ruins; on the 8th August, it was

a burning heap (_braisier_). Wolfe and Saunders' bombshells had found

their way even to the under-ground vaults. This epoch became disastrous to

many Quebecers." The English threw bombs (_pots à feu_) on the Lower

Town, of which, says Mr. Panet, "one fell on my house, one on the houses

in the Market place, and the last in Champlain street. The fire burst out

simultaneously, in three different directions; it was in vain to attempt

to cut off or extinguish the fire at my residence; a gale was blowing from

the north-east, and the Lower Town was soon nothing less than a blazing

mass. Beginning at my house, that of M. Desery, that of M. Maillou, Sault-

au-Matelot street, the whole of the Lower Town and all the quarter _Cul-

de-Sac_ up to the property of Sieur Voyer, which was spared, and in

short up to the house of the said Voyer, the whole was devastated by fire.

Seven vaults [96] had been rent to pieces or burned: that of M. Perrault

the younger, that of M. Taché, of M. Benjamin de la Mordic, of Jehaune, of

Maranda. You may judge of the consternation which reigned; 167 houses had

been burnt."

One hundred and sixty-seven burnt houses would create many gaps. We know

the locality on which stood the warehouse of M. Perrault, junior, also

that of M. Taché (the _Chronicle Bureau_), but who can point out to

us where stood the houses of Desery, Maillou, Voyer, de Voisy, and the

vaults of Messieurs Benjamin de la Mordic, Jehaune, Maranda?

It is on record that Champlain, after his return to Quebec, in 1633, "had

taken care to refit a battery which he had planted on a level with the

river near the warehouse, the guns of which commanded the passage between

Quebec and the opposite shore." [97] Now, in 1683, "this cannon battery,

erected in the Lower Town, almost surrounded on all sides by houses, stood

at some distance from the edge of the river, and caused some inconvenience

to the public; the then Governor, Lefebvre de la Barre [98] having sought

out a much more advantageous locality towards the Point of Rocks (_Pointe

des Roches_) west of the _Cul-de-Sac_, [99] and on the margin of the said

river at high-water mark, which would more efficiently command and sweep

the harbour, and which would cause far less inconvenience to the houses in

the said Lower Town," considered it fit to remove the said battery, and

the Reverend Jesuit Fathers having proposed to contribute towards the

expenses which would be incurred in so doing, he made them a grant "of a

portion of the lot of ground (_emplacement_) situated in front of the site

on which is now planted the said cannon battery, * * * * between the

street or high road for wheeled vehicles coming from the harbour [100] and

the so-called St. Peter street."

Here then we have the origin of the Napoleon wharf and a very distinct

mention of St. Peter street. The building erected near this site was sold

on the 22nd October, 1763, to William Grant, Esquire, who, on the 19th

December, 1763, also purchased the remainder of the ground down to low-

water mark, from Thomas Mills, Esquire, Town Major, who had shortly before

obtained a grant or patent of it, the 7th December, 1763, from Governor

Murray, in recognition, as is stated in the preamble of the patent, of his

military services. This property which, at a later period, belonged to the

late William Burns, was by him conveyed, the 16th October, 1806, to the

late J. M. Woolsey. The Napoleon wharf, purchased in 1842 by the late

Julien Chouinard from the late Frs. Buteau, forms at present part of the

Estate Chouinard; in reality, it is composed of two wharves joined into

one; the western portion is named "The Queen's Wharf," and was Mr.

Woolsey's property.

The highway which leads from the Cape towards this wharf is named "Sous-

le-Fort" street, which sufficiently denotes its position; this street, the

oldest, probably dates from the year 1620, when the foundations of Fort

St. Louis were laid; we may presume that, in 1663, the street terminated

at "la Pointe des Roches." In the last century "Sous-le-Fort" street was

graced by the residences, among others, of Fleury de la Jannière, brother

of Fleury de la Gorgendière, brother-in-law of the Governor de Vaudreuil.

In this street also stood the house of M. George Allsop, [101] the head of

the opposition in Governor Cramahé's Council. His neighbour was M.

d'Amours des Plaines, Councillor of the Superior Council; further on,

stood the residence of M. Cuvillier, the father of the Honorable Austin

Cuvillier, in 1844 Speaker of the House of Assembly. In this street also

existed the warehouse of M. Cugnet, the lessee of the Domaine of Labrador.

We must not confound the Napoleon wharf, sold by J. O. Brunet to Francois

Buteau, with the Queen's wharf, the property of the late J. W. Woolsey. On

the Queen's wharf, in a dwelling, since converted into a tavern, in 1846

one of the wittiest members of the Quebec Bar, Auguste Soulard, Esq.,

opened a law office for the especial convenience of his numerous country

clients. After office hours it was the rendezvous of many young

barristers, who have since made their mark: Messieurs T. Fournier, Justice

of the Supreme Court; A. Plamondon, Judge of the Superior Court; N.

Casault, Judge of the Superior Court; Jean Taché, Frederick Braun, L.

Fiset, J. M. Hudon and others. From the king's wharf to the king's forges

(the ruins of which were discovered at the beginning of the century, a

little further up than the king's store), there are but a few steps.

François Bellet, M.P. for the county of Buckingham from 1815 to 1820,

resided on the property of the late Julien Chouinard, at the corner of St.

Peter and Sous-le-Fort streets. He combined parliamentary duties, it

seems, with a sea-faring life, being styled "Capitaine de Bâtiment" in a

power of attorney before Martin A. Dumas, N.P., at Quebec, dated 9th

September, 1796, in which as attorney and agent for Revd. "Messire Louis

Payet, prêtre, curé de la paroisse de St. Antoine, au Nord de la Rivière

Richelieu," he sells to Monsieur Thomas Lee, later on an M.P.P., his negro

slave, named Rose, for the sum of "500 livres et vingt sols,"--about $100

of our currency. The traffic in human flesh became extinct in Canada in

1803 by legislative enactment. The bluest blood of our Southern neighbours

was shed to keep it up in the model Republic sixty years subsequently.

[102] In the space between the Queen's wharf and the jetty on the west,

belonging to the Imperial authorities and called the king's wharf, there

existed a bay or landing place, much prized by our ancestors, which

afforded a harbour for the coasting vessels and small river crafts, called

the "_Cul-de-Sac_." There, also, the ships which were overtaken by an

early winter lingered until the sunny days of April released them from

their icy fetters. There the ships were put into winter quarters, and

securely bedded on a foundation or bed of clay; wrecked vessels also came

hither to undergo repairs. The _Cul-de-Sac_, with its uses and marine

traditions, had, in by-gone days, an important function in our

incomparable sea-port. In this vicinity, Vaudreuil, in 1759, planted a

battery.

The old Custom House (now the Department of Marine), was built on this

site in 1833. In 1815 the Custom House was on McCallum's wharf. The

_Cul-de-Sac_ recalls "the first chapel which served as a Parish

Church at Quebec," that which Champlain caused to be built in the Lower

Town in 1615, where the name of Champlain is identified with the street

which was bounded by this chapel. The Revd. Fathers Récollets there

performed their clerical functions up to the period of the taking of

Quebec by the brothers Kertk, that is from 1615 to 1629, (Laverdière.)

Nothing less than the urgent necessity of providing the public with a

convenient market-place, and the small coasting steamers with suitable

wharves, could move the municipal authorities to construct the wharves now

existing, and there, in 1856, to erect out of the materials of the old

Parliament House, the spacious Champlain Hall, so conspicuous at present.

The king's wharf and the king's stores, two hundred and fifty feet in

length, with a guard house, built on the same site in 1821, possess also

their marine and military traditions. The "Queen's Own" volunteers, Capt.

Rayside, were quartered there during the stirring times of 1837-38, when

"Bob Symes" dreamed each night of a new conspiracy against the British

crown, and M. Aubin perpetuated, in his famous journal "_Le Fantasque_"

the memory of this loyal magistrate.

How many saucy frigates, how many proud English Admirals, have made fast

their boats at the steps of this wharf! Jacques Cartier, Champlain,

Nelson, Bourgainville, Cook, Vauclain, Montgomery, Boxer, Sir Rodney

Mundy, poor Captain Burgoyne, of the ill-fated iron-clad _Captain_,

Sir Leopold McClintock, [103] have, one after the other, trodden over this

picturesque landing place, commanded as it is by the guns of Cape Diamond.

Since about a century, the street which bears the venerated name of the

founder of Quebec, Champlain street, unmindful of its ancient Gallic

traditions, is almost exclusively the headquarters of our Hibernian

population. An ominous-looking black-board, affixed to one of the

projecting rocks of the Cape, indicates the spot below where one of their

countrymen, Brigadier-General Richard Montgomery, with his two _aides-

de-camp_, Cheeseman and McPherson, received their death wounds during a

violent snow storm about five o'clock in the morning, the 31st December,

1775. On this disastrous morning the post was guarded by Canadian

militiamen, Messieurs Chabot and Picard. Captain Barnesfare, an English

mariner, had pointed the cannon; Coffin and Sergeant Hugh McQuarters

applied the match. At the eastern extremity, under the stairs, now styled

"Breakneck Steps," according to Messrs. Casgrain and Laverdière, was

discovered Champlain's tomb, though a rival antiquary, M. S. Drapeau, says

that he is not certain of this. [104]

A little to the west is Cap Blanc, inhabited by a small knot of French-

Canadians and some Irish; near by, was launched in October, 1750, the

_Orignal_, a King's ship, built at Quebec; at that period the lily flag of

France floated over the bastions of Cape Diamond; the _Orignal_, in being

launched, broke her back and sank. Among the notabilities of Cap Blanc,

one is bound to recall the athletic stevedore and pugilist, Jacques

Etienne Blais. Should the fearless man's record not reach remote

posterity, pointing him out as the Tom Sayers of Cap Blanc, it cannot fail

to be handed down as the benefactor of the handsome new church of Notre

Dame de la Garde, erected on the shore in 1878, the site of which was

munificently given by him on the 17th June, 1877. Jacques Blais, now

(1881) very aged, though still vigorous, in his best days by his prowess

re-called that prince of Quebec raftsmen so graphically delineated by Chas

Lanman.

Champlain street stretches nearly to Cap Rouge, a distance of six miles.

During the winter the fall of an avalanche from the brow of the Cape on

the houses beneath is a not unfrequent occurrence. In former years, in the

good time of ship-building, the laying the keel of a large vessel in the

ship-yards often brought joy to the hearts of the poor ship-carpenters;

many of whose white, snug cottages are grouped along the river near by.

Except during the summer months, when the crews of the ships, taking in

cargo alongside the booms, sing, fight and dance in the adjacent

"shebeens," the year glides on peacefully. On grand, on gala days, in

election times, some of the sons of St. Patrick used to perambulate the

historical street, flourishing treenails, or _shillaleghs_--in order

to _preserve the peace!!!_ of course. To sum up all, Champlain street

has an aspect altogether _sui generis_.

A QUEBEC PORTRAIT

(From the ATLANTIC MONTHLY.)

"Physical size and grand proportions are looked upon by the French-

Canadians with great respect. In all the cases of popular

_émeutes_ that have from time to time broken out in Lower Canada,

the fighting leaders of the people were exceptional men, standing head

and shoulders over their confiding followers. Where gangs of raftsmen

congregate, their 'captains' may be known by superior stature. The

doings of their 'big men' are treasured by the French-Canadians in

traditionary lore. One famous fellow of this governing class is known

by his deeds and words to every lumberer and stevedore and timber-

tower about Montreal and Quebec. This man, whose name was Joe

Monfaron, was the bully of the Ottawa raftsmen. He was about six feet

six inches high, and proportionally broad and deep; and I remember how

people would turn round to look after him, as he came pounding along

Notre Dame street, in Montreal, in his red shirt and tan-colored

_shupac_ boots, all dripping wet, after mooring an acre or two of

raft, and now bent for his ashore haunts in the Ste. Marie suburb, to

indemnify himself with bacchanalian and other consolations for long-

endured hardship. Among other feats of strength attributed to him, I

remember the following, which has an old, familiar taste, but was

related to me as a fact:

"There was a fighting stevedore or timber-tower, I forget which, at

Quebec, who had never seen Joe Monfaron, as the latter seldom came

farther down the river than Montreal. This fighting character,

however, made a custom of laughing to scorn all the rumors that came

down on rafts, every now and then, about terrible chastisements

inflicted by Joe upon several hostile persons at once. He, the

fighting timber-tower, hadn't found his match yet about the lumber

coves at Quebec, and he only wanted to see Joe Monfaron once, when he

would settle the question as to the championship of rafts, on sight.

One day a giant in a red shirt stood suddenly before him, saying--

"'You're Dick Dempsey, eh?'

"'That's me.' replied the timber-tower, 'and who are you?'

"'Joe Monfaron. I heard you wanted me--here I am,' was the Caesarean

answer of the great captain of rafts.

"'Ah! you're Joe Monfaron!" said the bully, a little staggered at the

sort of customer he saw before him. 'I said I'd like to see you, for

sure, but how am I to know you're the right man?'

"'Shake hands first,' replied Joe, 'and then you will find out, may

be.'

"They shook hands--rather warmly, perhaps, for the timber-tower, whose

features wore an uncertain expression during the operation, and who at

last broke out into a yell of pain, as Joe cast him off with a defiant

laugh. Nor did the bully wait for any further explanations, for,

whether the man who had just brought the blood spouting out at the

tops of his fingers was Joe Monfaron or not, he was clearly an ugly

customer, and had better be left alone.

The St. Lawrence, its rafts of timber, raftsmen, _voyageurs_ and

their songs, are pleasantly alluded to by a sympathetic French writer of

note, X. Marmier, [105] who visited Canada some thirty years ago:

"On the St. Lawrence, traversed by steamboats, by vessels heavily

laden, and by light bark canoes, we may see early in the season

immense rafts of timber that are brought down from the dense northern

forests, hewn where they are felled, drawn to the rivers upon the

snow, and made up into rafts. The Canadian crews erect masts and

spread their sails, and by the aid of wind and current, and sometimes

by rowing, they boldly guide these acres of fir down the rapids to

Quebec, while they animate their labours with the melody of their

popular songs. A part would intone the Canadian song

"A la Claire Fontaine,"

while the others, repeating the last two lines, would at the same time

let drop their oars as those of the former arose.

"There is probably no river on earth that has heard so many vows of

love as the St. Lawrence; for there is not a Canadian boatman that has

ever passed up or down the river without repeating, as the blade of

his oar dropped into the stream, and as it arose, the national

refrain.

"Il y a longtemps que je t'aime,

Jamais je ne t'oublierai!"

"Long time have I loved thee,

Never will I forget thee!"

"And I will here say that there is a harmonious sweetness in these

simple words, that well accords with the simple yet imposing character

of the scenery of this charming region.

"Upon our coquettish rivers in Europe they may whisper of loves along

their flowery banks and under the vine-clad terraces that overhang

them, like the curtains of a saloon; but here, in this grand severity

of nature, upon these immense, half desert plains, in the silence of

these gloomy forests, on the banks of this majestic river that is ever

speeding onward to the eternal ocean, we may feel emotions that are

truly sublime. If, in this quiet solitude, should we open the soul to

a dream of love, it takes the serious tone; it needs must be a pure

being that dares to breathe to the heavens and to the waves these

sacred words, 'I love thee,' and that can add the promise and the

pledge of the Canadian song:

"Jamais je ne t'oublierai."

"Ne'er will I forget thee!" [106]

Among the streets of Quebec, most celebrated in our annals by reason of

the incidents which attach thereto, one may name the frowsy and tortuous

highway which circulates from the foot of Mountain Hill, running for a

distance of two hundred feet below the Cape, up to the still narrower

pathway which commences west of St. James street and leads to the foot of

the hill "_de la canoterie_;" [107] all will understand we mean the

leading commercial thoroughfare of olden time, [108] Sault-au-Matelot

street. Is it because a sailor, no doubt only partially relieved from the

horrors of sobriety, there made a wild leap? or are we to attribute the

name to the circumstance of a dog named "Matelot" ("Sailor") there taking

a leap? [109] Consult _Du Creux_. Our friend, Joseph Marmette,

appropriated it for the reception of his hero, "Dent de Loup," who escaped

without broken bones after his leap. [110]

The western portion of the still narrower pathway of which we have just

spoken, rejoices in the name of "Ruelle des Chiens," (Dog Lane); [111] the

directories name it Sous-le-Cap street. It is so narrow that, at certain

angles, two carts passing in opposite directions, would be blocked. Just

picture to yourself that up to the period of 1816, our worthy ancestors

had no other outlet in this direction at high water to reach St. Roch,

(for St. Paul street was constructed subsequently to 1816, as M. de Gaspé

has informed us.) Is it not incredible? As, in certain passes of the Alps,

a watchman no doubt stood at either extremity of this lane, provided with

a speaking trumpet to give notice of any obstruction and thus prevent

collisions. This odoriferous locality, especially during the dog-days, is

rather densely populated. The babes of Green Erin, with a sprinkling of

young Jean Baptistes, here flourish like rabbits in a warren. Miss Kitty

Ellison and her friend. Mr. Arbuton, in their romantic wanderings, were

struck with the _mise en scène_ of Dog Lane:--

"Now that Prescott Gate, by which so many thousands of Americans have

entered Quebec since Arnold's excursionists failed to do so, is

demolished, there is nothing left so picturesque and characteristic as

Hope Gate (alas! since razed), and I doubt if anywhere in Europe there

is a more mediaeval-looking bit of military architecture. The heavy

stone gateway is black with age, and the gate, which has probably

never been closed in our century, is of massive frame, set thick with

mighty bolts and spikes. The wall here sweeps along the brow of the

crag on which the city is built, and a steep street drops down, by

stone-parapeted curves and angles, from the Upper to the Lower Town,

when, in 1775, nothing but a narrow lane bordered the St. Lawrence. A

considerable breadth of land has since been won from the river, and

several streets and many piers now stretch between this alley and the

water, but the old Sault-au-Matelot still crouches and creeps along

under the shelter of the city wall and the overhanging rock, which is

thickly bearded with weeds and grass, and trickles with abundant

moisture. It must be an ice pit in winter, and I should think it the

last spot on the continent for the summer to find; but when the summer

has at last found it, the old Sault-au-Matelot puts on a vagabond air

of southern leisure and abandon, not to be matched anywhere out of

Italy. Looking from that jutting rock near Hope Gate, behind which the

defeated Americans took refuge from the fire of their enemies, the

vista is almost unique for a certain scenic squalor and gypsy luxury

of colour--sag-roofed barns and stables, and weak-backed, sunken-

chested workshops of every sort, lounge along in tumble-down

succession, and lean up against the cliff in every imaginable posture

of worthlessness and decrepitude, light wooden galleries cross to them

from the second stories of the houses which back upon the alley, and

over these galleries flutters from a labyrinth of clothes-lines a

variety of bright-coloured garments of all ages, sexes and conditions,

while the footway underneath abounds in gossiping women, smoking men,

idle poultry, cats, children, and large, indolent Newfoundland dogs."

--(_A Chance Acquaintance_, p, 175.)

Adventurous tourists who have risked themselves there in the sultry days

of July, have found themselves dazed at the sight of the wonders of the

place. Among other indigenous curiosities, they have there noticed what

might be taken for any number of aerial tents, improvised no doubt as

protection from the scorching rays of a meridian sun. Attached to ropes

stretched from one side of the public way to the other, was the family

linen, hung out to dry. When shaken by the wind over the heads of the

passers-by, these articles of white under-clothing (_chemisettes_),

flanked by sundry masculine nether-garments, presented a _tableau_,

it is said, in the highest degree picturesque. As regards ourselves,

desirous from our earliest days to search into the most recondite

_arcana_ of the history of our city and to portray them in all their

suggestive reality, for the edification of distinguished tourists from

England, France and the United States, it has been to us a source of

infinite mortification to realize that the only visit which we ever made

to Dog Lane was subsequent to the publication of the _Album du Touriste_;

a circumstance which explains the omission of it from that repository of

Canadian lore. Our most illustrious tourists, [112] the eldest son of the

Queen, the Prince of Wales, his brothers, the Princes Alfred and Arthur,

the Dukes of Newcastle, of Athol, of Manchester, of Beaufort, of Argyle,

of Sutherland, Generals Grant and Sherman, and Prince Napoleon Bonaparte,

it is said, took their leave of Quebec without having visited that

interesting locality, "_la Ruelle des Chiens_," Sous-le-Cap street,

probably unconscious of its very existence! Nevertheless, this street

possesses great historical interest. It has re-echoed the trumpet sounds

of war, the thundering of cannon, the briskest musketry; there fell

Brigadier-General Arnold, wounded in the knee: carried off amid the

despairing cries of his soldiers, under the swords of Dambourgès, of the

fierce and stalwart Charland, of the brave Caldwell, followed by his

friend Nairn and their chivalrous militiamen. Our friends, the

annexationists of that period, were so determined to annex Quebec, that

they threw themselves as if possessed by the evil one upon the barriers

(there were two of them) in Sous-le-Cap street and in Sault-au-Matelot

street; each man, says Sanguinet, wearing a slip of paper on his cap on

which was written "_Mors aut Victoria_," "Death or Victory!" One

hundred years and more have elapsed since this fierce struggle, and we are

not yet under Republican rule!

A number of dead bodies lay in the vicinity, on the 31st December, 1775;

they were carried to the Seminary. Ample details of the incidents of this

glorious day will be found in "QUEBEC PAST AND PRESENT." It is believed

that the first barrier was placed at the foot of the stone _demi-lune_,

where, at present, a cannon rests on the ramparts; the second was

constructed in rear of the present offices of Mr. W. D. Campbell, N.P., in

Sault-au-Matelot street.

Sault-au-Matelot street has lost the military renown which it then

possessed; besides the offices of M. Ledroit, of the _Morning Chronicle_,

and of the timber cullers, it now is a stand for the carters, and a

numerous tribe of pork merchants, salmon preservers and coopers, whose

casks on certain days encumber the sidewalks.

St. Paul street does not appear on the plan of the city of Quebec of 1660,

reproduced by the Abbé Faillon. This quarter of the Lower Town, so

populous under the French _régime, and where, according to Monseigneur de

Laval, there was, in 1661, "_magnus numerus civium_" continued, until

about 1832, to represent the hurry-scurry of affairs and the residences of

the principal merchants, one of the wealthiest portions of the city.

There, in 1793, the father of our Queen, Colonel of the 7th Fusiliers,

then in garrison at Quebec, partook of the hospitality of M. Lymburner,

one of the merchant princes of that period. Was the _chère amie_, the

elegant _Baronne de St. Laurent_, of the party? We found it impossible to

ascertain this from our old friend, Hon. William Sheppard, of Woodfield,

near Quebec (who died in 1867), from whom we obtained this incident. Mr.

Sheppard, who had frequently been a guest at the most select drawing-rooms

of the ancient capital, was himself a contemporary of the generous and

jovial Prince Edward.

The Sault-au-Matelot quarter, St. Peter street, and St. James street, down

to the year 1832, contained the habitations of a great number of persons

in easy circumstances; many of our families of note had their residences

there: John Wm. Woolsey, Esq., in 1808, and later on first President of

the Quebec Bank; the millionaire auctioneer, Wm. Burns, the god-father to

the late George Burns Symes, Esq.; Archbishop Signai--this worthy prelate

was born in this street, in a house opposite to La Banque Nationale.

Evidences of the luxuriousness of their dwelling rooms are visible to this

day, in the panelling of some doors and in decorated ceilings.

Drainage, according to the modern system, was, at that period, almost

unknown to our good city. The Asiatic cholera, in 1832, decimated the

population: 3,500 corpses, in the course of a few weeks, had gone to their

last resting place. This terrible epidemic was the occasion, so to speak,

of a social revolution at Quebec; the land on the St. Louis and Ste. Foye

roads became much enhanced in value; the wealthy quitted the Lower Town.

Commercial affairs, however, still continued to be transacted there, but

the residences of merchants were selected in the Upper Town or in the

country parts adjacent.

The _Fief Sault-au-Matelot_, which at present belongs to the Seminary, was

granted to Guillaume Hébert on the 4th February, 1623, the title of which

was ratified by the Due de Ventadour on the last day of February, 1632. On

the ground reclaimed from the river, about 1815, Messrs. Munro and Bell,

eminent merchants, built wharves and some large warehouses, to which lead

"Bell's lane," (so named after the Honorable Matthew Bell) [113] the

streets St. James, Arthur, Dalhousie and others. Mr. Bell, at a later

period, one of the lessees of the St. Maurice Forges, resided in the

house--now St. Lawrence Chambers--situate at the corner of St. James and

St. Peter streets, now belonging to Mr. John Greaves Clapham, N. P. Hon.

Matthew Bell commanded a troop of cavalry, which was much admired by those

warlike gentlemen of 1812--our respected fathers. He left a numerous

family, and was related by marriage to the families Montizambert, Bowen,

&c. Dalhousie street, in the Lower Town, probably dates from the time of

the Earl of Dalhousie (1827), when the "Quebec Exchange" was built by a

company of merchants. The extreme point of the Lower Town, towards the

northeast, constitutes "La Pointe à Carcy," named after Carcy Pagès, who

succeeded to the office of "Guardian of the Harbor," held in 1713 by Louis

Pratt. In the offing is situated the wharf, alongside of which the stately

frigate _Aurora_, Captain De Horsey, passed the winter of 1866-7. The

wharves of the Quebec docks now mark the spot.