Elm Grove, owned for many years by John Saxton Campbell, Esq., was

purchased in 1856 by J. K. Boswell, Esq., who resided there for nearly

twenty years. John Burstall, Esquire, late of Kirk Ella, has within a few

months acquired it from Madame la Marquise de Bassano, and it bids fair

ere long to take its place among the first and best kept country seats in

the environs of the city.

_THORNHILL._

".....let us pierce into the midnight depth

Of yonder grove, of wildest, largest growth,

That, forming high in air a woodland quire,

Nods o'er the mount beneath"

There is a peculiar feature noticeable about Quebec country seats which

speaks volumes for their attractiveness as healthy and pleasant retreats;

not only have they been at all times sought after by wealthy and permanent

residents, Canadian born, but also by men of European birth, holding for

the time being the highest position in the country, both under the French

and under the English monarchs. Thus the celebrated Intendant Talon was

the first owner of Belmont; Intendant Bigot had his luxurious château at

Charlesbourg; Attorney General Ruette D'Auteuil used, near two centuries

back, to spend his summer months at Sillery, where, later on, Bishop

Dosquet, a French ecclesiastic, had his pretty villa at Samos (Woodfield).

Vaudreuil was also a Canadian land-owner. Later on Governor Murray

purchased extensively on the St. Foy road, amongst others, Belmont and the

"Sans Bruit" farm, Governor Haldimand must have his lodge at Montmorenci

Falls, subsequently occupied by the father of our august Queen; Hector

Theophilus Cramahé (afterwards Lieut.-Governor), in 1762, had his estate--

some 500 acres of cornfield and meadows--at Cap Rouge, now Meadowbank,

owned by Lt.-Col. Chs. Andrew Shears. The Prime Minister of Canada, in

1854, and a late Governor of British Guiana, Sir Francis Hincks, following

in the footsteps of Sir Dominick Daly, must needs locate himself on the

St. Lewis road, and in order to be close to his chief, the late Earl of

Elgin, then residing at Spencer Wood, the Premier selected and purchased

Thornhill, across the road, one of the most picturesque country seats in

the neighbourhood. You barely, as you pass, catch a glimpse of its

outlines as it rests under tall, cone-like firs on the summit of a

hillock, to which access is had through a handsomely laid out circuitous

approach between two hills. An extensive fruit and vegetable garden lies

to the east of the house; a hawthorn hedge dotted here and there with some

graceful young maple and birch trees, fringes the roadside; a thorn

shrubbery of luxuriant growth encircles the plantation of evergreens along

the side of the mound which slopes down to the road, furnishing a splendid

croquet lawn. One of the chief beauties of the landscape is the occasional

glimpses of the Grande Allée and Spencer Wood, obtained from the house.

The dwelling was erected many years ago by Alexander Simpson, Esq., then

Manager of the Bank of Montreal, at Quebec. Forming a portion of it to the

west, and looking towards Charlesbourg, there is a snug English-looking

little nest, "Woodside," with the prettiest of thorn and willow hedges.

Thornhill has exchanged hands, and been for many years the seat of

Archibald Campbell, Esq., P.S.C., at Quebec.

_SPENCER WOOD._

On the South side of the St. Louis road, past Wolfe and Montcalm's famed

battle-field, two miles from the city walls, lies, embowered in verdure,

the most picturesque domain of Sillery--one might say of Canada--Spencer

Wood. [226]

This Celebrated Vice-Regal Lodge was (1780-96) known as Powell Place, when

owned by General Henry Watson Powell. It took its name of Spencer Wood

from the Right Honorable Spencer Perceval, [227] the illustrious relative

of the Hon. Henry Michael Perceval, whose family possessed it from 1815 to

1833, when it was sold to the late Henry Atkinson, Esquire, an eminent and

wealthy Quebec merchant. Hon. Mr. Perceval, member of the Executive and

Legislative Council, had been H. M.'s Collector of Customs at Quebec for

many years, and until his death which took place at sea, 12th October,

1829. The Percevals lived for many years in affluence in this sylvan

retreat. Of their elegant receptions Quebecers still cherish pleasant

reminiscences. Like several villas of England and France, Spencer Wood had

its periods of splendor alternated by days of loneliness and neglect,

short though they were. Spencer Wood, until 1849, comprised the adjoining

property of Spencer Grange. Mr. Atkinson that year sold the largest half

of his country seat--Spencer Wood--to the Government, as a gubernatorial

residence for the hospitable and genial Earl of Elgin, reserving the

smaller half (now owned by the writer), on which he built conservatories,

vineries, a pinery, orchid house, &c., far more extensive than those of

Spencer Wood proper. Though the place was renowned for its magnificence

and princely hospitality in the days of Lord Elgin, there are amongst the

living plenty to testify to the fact that the lawns, walks, gardens, and

conservatories were never kept up with the same intelligent taste and

lavish expenditure as they were during the sixteen years (1833-1849) when

this country seat owned for its master Mr. Atkinson.

_THE LATE HONORABLE MRS. M. H. PERCEVAL. FORMERLY OF SPENCER WOOD,

QUEBEC._

Through the kindness of Mrs. Peter Sheppard, of Quebec, we are enabled

to furnish some further particulars touching the estimable and

accomplished lady who, during the protracted sojourn of her family at

Spencer Wood, seems to have won the hearts of all those admitted to

her charmed circle some fifty years ago. Mrs. Sheppard [228] not only

renders to the worth of her lamented friend a merited tribute, she

also furnishes a curious page of Quebec history, Quebec festivities in

the olden times, which may interest our readers. "The Honorable

Michael H. Perceval was closely connected with the Earl of Egmont's

family, who were Percevals. The "Spencer" was borrowed from the Earl's

eldest son "Spencer;" the name was given to their beautiful domain

purchased from old LeHoullier about 1815, as well as to their eldest

son, Col. (now Major General) Spencer Perceval, who was here in

garrison in 1840, in the Coldstream Guards, as well as his uncle, Col.

Perceval, also serving in the Guards. When a girl in my teens, many

happy days did I spend in the Perceval family, who were as

passionately fond of music, as I then was. They had "at homes" every

Monday, one week for dancing, the next for music, (the latter I never

missed attending, to play on the harp,) they had also grand dinners

_de cérémonie_. Amongst the _habitués_ I can yet recall some names;

Hon. Mathew Bell and lady; (Mrs. B. was a Miss McKenzie, of Three

Rivers,) Miss Bell (Mrs. Walker,) Sir John Pownal, the Montizamberts,

Judge Kerr and Misses Kerr, Miss Uniacke, the Duchesnays, the

Vanfelsons, De Gaspés, Babys and others. (I may be wrong in quoting

some names after half a century.)

Mr. Perceval, was a member of the Legislative Council, as well as

Collector of Customs, an imperial appointment which yielded him £8000

in fees per annum. English and French society were equally welcome

under his hospitable roof. His beautiful and accomplished wife, was

the eldest daughter of Sir Charles Flower, Lord Mayor of London, in

1809--had filled the position of Lady Mayoress, when 18 years of age,

her father being a widower; she brought her husband £40,000 and

subsequently inherited £100,000. She was eminently fitted to grace

Spencer Wood--her beauty, her refined and cordial manners made her

receptions eminently attractive. Her education was perfect, she was

mistress of four languages, English, French, Italian and Latin, which

studies she took great trouble in keeping up and which she herself

taught to her children, ten in number, besides teaching them the

piano, the harp and drawing. Instead of fancy work the young ladies

were taught to repair their clothes and do plain sewing; this did not

prevent them from making most brilliant matches. The family left

Spencer Wood in 1828, to spend a year in Italy, at Florence, intending

to return, but the Hon. M. H. Perceval, died at sea on the 12th Oct.,

1829, and the family never returned.

The daughters married as follows: the eldest, Eliza, was wedded to Sir

George Denys, Bart.; the second, Caroline, to Col. Alexander Houstoun,

of Clerkington; the third, Isabella, to a wealthy French nobleman,

Baron de Veauce; the fourth, Mary Jane, to Sir James Matheson, Bart.;

the fifth died at the age of 18. The eldest son [229] "Spencer" is a

General officer. There were several other sons; George Ramsay, who

entered the army, Michael Henry and Col. Charles Perceval.

I can recall the time also when Lady Dalhousie and Mrs. Sheppard, of

Woodfield, would come to Spencer Wood, in their botanizing excursions.

Spencer Wood, later on, was also a favorite resort of Lady Aylmer, in

1832, whilst at an earlier period, the Duke of Richmond's family, in

1818, used to come and ramble about the grounds, lunching there with

all the junior folks.

This charming and beloved lady, my old friend, Ann Perceval, died at

Lewes Castle, Stornaway. Scotland, the seat of her son in law, Sir

James Matheson, on the 23rd Nov., 1876, most deservedly regretted, at

the very advanced age of eighty-seven years."--24 January, 1877.

Spencer Wood garden is described in London's _Encyclopedia of Gardening_,

page 341, and also in the _Gardener's Magazine_ for 1837, at page 467. Its

ornate style of culture, which made it a show-place for all strangers

visiting Quebec, was mainly due to the scientific and tasty arrangements

of an eminent landscape gardener, M. P. Lowe, [230] now in charge of the

Cataraqui conservatories.

Well can we recall the time when this lordly demesne extended from

Wolfefield, adjoining Marchmont, to the meandering Belle-Borne brook,

which glides past the porter's lodge at Woodfield, due west, the historic

stream _Ruisseau Saint Denis_, up which clambered the British hero,

Wolfe, to conquer or die, intersecting it at Thornhill. It was then a

splendid old seat of more than one hundred acres, a fit residence for the

proudest nobleman England might send us as Viceroy--enclosed east and west

between two streamlets, hidden from the highway by a dense growth of oak,

maple, dark pines and firs--the forest primeval--letting in here and there

the light of heaven on its labyrinthine avenues; a most striking

landscape, blending the sombre verdure of its hoary trees with the soft

tints of its velvety sloping lawn, fit for a ducal palace. An elfish plot

of a flower garden, alas! how much dwarfed, then stood in rear of the

dwelling to the north, it once enjoyed the privilege of attracting many

eyes. It had also an extensive and well-kept fruit and vegetable garden,

enlivened with flower beds, the centre of which was adorned with the

loveliest possible circular fount in white marble, supplied with the

crystal element from the Belle-Borne rill by a hidden aqueduct;

conservatories, graperies, peach and forcing houses, pavilions

picturesquely hung over the yawning precipice on two headlands, one

looking towards Sillery, the other towards the Island of Orleans, the

scene of many a cosy tea-party; bowers, rustic chairs _perdues_ among

the groves, a superb bowling green and archery grounds. The mansion itself

contained an exquisite collection of paintings from old masters, a well-

selected library of rare and standard works, illuminated Roman missals,

rich portfolios with curious etchings, marble busts, quaint statuettes,

medals and medallions, _objets de vertu_ purchased by the millionaire

proprietor during a four years' residence in Italy, France and Germany.

Such we remember Spencer Wood in its palmiest days, when it was the ornate

home of a man of taste, the late Henry Atkinson, Esquire, the President of

the Horticultural Society of Quebec.

May I be pardoned, for lingering lovingly on this old spot, recalling

"childhood scenes" of one dear to me and mine!

The following, written by a valued old friend of Mr. Atkinson, is dated

Brighton, England:

On a sketch of Spencer Wood sent to the writer (Miss A.), with her

album, Oct. 18, 1848.

Dear Spencer Wood! What a group of pleasing remembrances are clustered

around me as I gaze upon this visible image and type of thee. Thy

classic lawn, with its antiquated oaks and solemn pines; thy wood-

crowned cliffs and promontories, with the sparkling sunlight reflected

on a thousand sheaves from the broad surface of Jacques Cartier's

river, hundreds of feet below. And then the quiet repose of thy ample

mansion, with its stores of art and models of taste within and

without; thy forest shades, thy gardens, thy flowers and thy fruit.

But most of all, thy gay and happy inmates, their glad and joyous

hearts beating with generous emotions, and their countenances

brightened with the welcome smile. Ah! how I seem to hear, as in time

past I have heard, their lively prattle, or their merry laugh echoing

across the lawn, or through the flower garden, or along the winding

paths down the steep slope to the pavilion.

And can it be that I shall never again realize these happy scenes! I

would fain hope otherwise; but life is a changeful drama, and time

fleeting; this world is _not_ our home.

Adieu, then, dear friends. May God's blessing ever rest upon you; and

should it be His providence that we meet not again here, may we all so

use His dealings with us in this disciplinary state that we may be

sure to meet.

Brighton, Dec. 20th. In memory of some pleasant moments.

E. E. DOUGLASS.

In the beginning of the century Spencer Wood, as previously stated, was

known as Powell Place. His Excellency Sir James Henry Craig spent there

the summers of 1808-9-10. Even the healthy air of Powell Place failed to

cure him of gout and dropsy. A curious letter from Sir James to his

secretary and _chargé d'affaires_ in London, H. W. Ryland, Esquire, dated

"Powell Place, 6th August, 1810," has been, among others, preserved by the

historian Robert Christie. It alludes in rather unparliamentary language

to the _coup d'état_ which had on the 19th March, 1810, consigned to a

Quebec dungeon three of the most prominent members of the Legislature,

Messrs. Bédard, Taschereau and Blanchet, together with Mr. Lefrançois, the

printer of the _Canadien_ newspaper, for certain comments in that journal

on Sir James' colonial policy. Sir James had spent the greatest part of

his life in the army, actively battling against France; a Frenchman for

him was a traditional enemy. This unfortunate idea seems more than once to

have inspired his colonial policy with regard to the descendants of

Frenchmen whom he ruled.

Born at Gibraltar, of Scotch parents, James Henry Craig entered the

English service in 1763 at the age of 15, and on many occasions

distinguished himself by his courage. During the war of the American

revolution he served in Canada, and was present at the unfortunate affair

of Saratoga.

_SIR JAMES CRAIG TO MR. RYLAND._

QUEBEC, Powell Place, 6th August, 1810.

My Dear Ryland,--Till I took my pen in my hand I thought I had a great

deal to say to you, and now I am mostly at a loss for a subject. * * *

We have remained very quiet; whatever is going on is silently. I have

no reason to think, however, that any change has taken place in the

public mind; _that_ I believe remains in the same state. Bishop

Plessis, on the return from his tour, acknowledged to me that he had

reason to think that some of his _curés_ had not behaved quite as

they ought to have done; he is now finishing the remainder of his

visitations.

Blanchette and Taschereau are both released on account of ill-health;

the former is gone to Kamouraska to bathe, the latter was only let out

a few days ago. He sent to the Chief Justice (Sewell) to ask if he

would allow him to call on him, who answered, by all means. The Chief

Justice is convinced he is perfectly converted. He assured him that he

felt it to be his duty to take any public occasion, by any act

whatever that he could point out, to show his contrition and the sense

he entertained of his former conduct.

He told the Chief Justice in conversation that Blanchette came and

consulted him on the subject of publishing the paper, "Prenez vous par

le bout du nez," and that having agreed that it would be very improper

that it should appear, they went to Bédard, between whom and

Blanchette there were very high words on the occasion. I know not what

Panet is about, I have never heard one word of or about him. In short,

I really have nothing to tell you, nor do I imagine that I shall have,

till I hear from you. You may suppose how anxious I shall be till that

takes place. We have fixed the time for about the 10th September; till

then I shall not come to any final resolution with respect to the

bringing the three delinquents to trial or not. I am, however,

inclined to avoid it, so is the B----; the C. J. is rather, I think,

inclined to the other side, though aware of the inconvenience that may

arise from it. Blanchette and Taschereau have both, in the most

unequivocal terms, acknowledged the criminality of their conduct, and

it will be hinted that if Bédard will do the same it may be all that

will be required of them; at present his language is that he has done

nothing wrong, and that he does not care how long he is kept in

prison.

We have begun upon the road to the townships (the Craig Road, through

the Eastern Townships) * * * We shall get money enough, especially as

we hope to finish it at a third of what it would have cost if we would

have employed the country people. (It was made by soldiers.)

The scoundrels of the Lower Town have begun their clamour already, and

I should scarcely be surprised if the House should ask, when they

meet, by what authority I have cut a road without their permission.

The road begins at St. Giles and will end at the township of Shipton.

Yours most faithfully,

(Signed,) J. H. CRAIG.

(History of Canada, Christie, vol. VI., p. 128.)

Very different, and we hope more correct, views are now promulgated on

colonial matters from Powell Place.

If Sir James, wincing under bodily pain, could write angry letters, there

were occasions on which the "rank and fashion" of the city received from

him the sweetest epistles imaginable. The 10th of August of each year (his

birthday, perhaps) as he informs us in another letter, was sacred to

rustic enjoyment, conviviality and the exchange of usual courtesies, which

none knew better how to dispense than the sturdy old soldier.

The English traveller, John Lambert, thus notices it in his interesting

narrative in 1808:--"Sir James Craig resided in summer at a country house

about four or five miles from Quebec, and went to town every morning to

transact business. This residence is called Powell Place, and is

delightfully situated in a neat plantation on the border of the bank which

overlooks the St. Lawrence, not far from the spot where General Wolfe

landed and ascended to the heights of Abraham. Sir James gave a splendid

breakfast _al fresco_ at this place in 1809 to all the principal

inhabitants of Quebec, and the following day he allowed his servants and

their acquaintances to partake of a similar entertainment at his

expense."--(Lambert's Travels, 1808, p. 310.)

Spencer Wood has ever been a favourite resort for our Governors--Sir James

Craig--Lord Elgin--Sir Edmund Walker Head--Lord Monk--Lord Lisgar, and

Lord Dufferin on his arrival in 1872, none prized it so highly, none

rendered it more attractive than the Earl of Elgin. Of his _fêtes

champêtres_, _recherchés_ dinners, _château_ balls, a pleasant remembrance

still lingers in the memory of many Quebecers and others. Several

circumstances added to the charms and comfort of Spencer Wood in his day.

On one side of St. Louis Road stood the gubernatorial residence, on the

opposite side at Thornhill, dwelt the Prime Minister, Sir Francis Hincks.

Over the vice-regal "walnuts and wine," how many knotty state questions

have been discussed, how many despatches settled, how many political

points adjusted in the stormy days which saw the abolition of the

Seignioral Tenure and Clergy Reserves. At one of his brilliant

postprandial speeches,--Lord Elgin was much happier at this style of

oratory than his successor, Sir Edmund Head,--the noble Earl is reported

to have said, alluding to Spencer Wood, "Not only would I spend here the

rest of my life, but after my death, I should like my bones to rest in

this beautiful spot;" and still China and India had other scenes, other

triumphs, and his Sovereign, other rewards for the successful statesman.

Sir Edmund Head's sojourn at Spencer Wood was marked by a grievous family

bereavement; his only son, a promising youth of nineteen summers, was, in

1858, accidentally drowned in the St. Maurice, at Three Rivers, while

bathing. This domestic affliction threw a pall over the remainder of the

existence of His Excellency, already darkened by bodily disease. Seclusion

and quiet were desirable to him.

A small private gate still exists at Spencer Grange, which at the request

of the sorrowful father was opened through the adjoining property with the

permission of the proprietor. Each week His Excellency, with his amiable

lady, stealing a few moments from the burthen of affairs of State, would

thus walk through unobserved to drop a silent tear on the green grave at

Mount Hermon, in which were entombed all the hopes of a noble house. On

the 12th March, 1860, on a wintry evening, whilst the castle was a blaze

of light and powdered footmen hurried through its sounding corridors, to

relieve of their fur coats and mufflers His Excellency's guests asked at a

state dinner that night--Sir John A. Macdonald, Sir Geo. E. Cartier, Mr.

Pennefather and others--the alarm of fire was sounded, and in a couple of

hours, of the magnificent pile a few charred ruins only remained. There

was no State dinner that night.

One of the last acts of the Ministry in retiring in 1861, was the signing

of the contract to rebuild Spencer Wood. The appropriation was a very

niggardly one, in view of the size of the structure required as a vice-

regal residence. All meretricious ornaments in the design were of course

left out. A square building, two hundred feet by fifty, was erected with

the main entrance, in rear, on the site of the former lovely flower

garden. The location of the entrance and consequent sacrifice of the

flower garden for a court, left the river front of the dwelling for the

private use of the inmates of the _Château_ by excluding the public.

Lord Monk, the new Governor-General, took possession of the new mansion

and had a plantation of fir and other trees added to conceal the east end

from public gaze. Many happy days were spent at Spencer Wood by His

Lordship and family, whose private secretary, Denis Godley, Esq., occupied

the picturesque cottage "Bagatelle," facing the Holland Road, on the

Spencer Grange property. If illustrious names on the Spencer Wood

Visitor's Register could enhance the interest the place may possess,

foremost, one might point to H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, visiting in 1860

the site probably more than once surveyed and admired, in 1791-4, by his

grand-father, Prince Edward, Duke of Kent, in his drives round Quebec,

with the fascinating Baroness de St. Laurent. Conspicuous among all those

familiar with the portals of Spencer Wood, may be mentioned other Royal

Princes--the Duke of Edinburgh and Prince Arthur, Princess Louise, Prince

Leopold; with Dukes and Earls--the Duke of Newcastle, Manchester,

Buckingham, Argyll, Athol. Sutherland, Prince Napoleon, Generals Grant,

Sherman, &c.

Since Confederation, Spencer Wood has been successively tenanted by Sir.

N. F. Belleau, Lieutenant-Governor Caron, Lieutenant-Governor Letellier de

St. Just, and Lieutenant-Governor Robitaille, the present occupant of the

seat.

To the late Lieut.-Governor Letellier is due the initiation of the

_soirées littéraires_, which united under his hospitable roof the literary

talent of the Ancient Capital, and his successor, Lieut.-Governor

Robitaille, not only followed this enlightened course, but also added

_soirées musicales_ and _artistiques_.

Spencer Wood was not included in the schedule and division of property

handed over by the Dominion Government to the Province of Quebec--it was,

however, about that time presented as a gift to our province, solely as a

gubernatorial residence--as such to be held, and consequently cannot be

sold by the Government of the Province of Quebec.

HENRY WATSON POWELL was commissioned a Lieutenant in the 46th Foot,

March 10th, 1753. He was promoted to a captaincy in the 2nd Battalion

of the 11th Foot, September 2nd, 1756, but upon that battalion's being

detached from the 11th and renumbered in 1758, his regimental number

became the 64th. He served in the expedition against the French West

India Islands in 1759, and went with his regiment to America in 1768.

June 2nd, 1770, he became Major of the 38th Foot, and July 23rd, 1771,

Lieutenant-Colonel of the 53rd Foot, which was then stationed at

Minorca. He accompanied his corps to Canada in the spring of 1776, and

on June 10th of that year, a few days after his arrival, Sir Guy

Carleton appointed him a Brigadier General and assigned him to the 2nd

Brigade, which consisted of the 34th, 53rd and 20th Regiments. When

Gen. Gordon's brigade was broken up on the death of that officer,

August 1st, 1776, the 62nd was added to Powell's brigade, and in

November of that year, upon General Nesbit's death, Gen. Powell was

transferred to the command of the 1st Brigade, consisting of the 9th,

47th, 31st and 21st Regiments, save that the 53rd was substituted for

the 21st. Gen. Powell served under Gen. Carleton in 1776, and the next

year accompanied Burgoyne. In organizing the troops for Burgoyne's

expedition in 1777, Gen. Powell was assigned to the 2nd Brigade,

consisting of the 20th, 21st and 62nd Regiments. The 62nd was left at

Ticonderoga, however with Prince Frederick's (German) Regiment and a

portion of Captain Borthwick's company of the Royal Artillery July 5th

when the Americans evacuated that fort, and August 10th Gen. Powell

was sent back to assume command of that post, his regiment, the 53rd,

being also ordered to relieve the 62nd. Though he successfully

repelled the American Col. Brown's attack on Ticonderoga and for four

days maintained a gallant defence, the enemy retreating September

22nd, yet inasmuch as a considerable part of four companies of the

53rd were surprised in the old French lines and at the outposts by the

American advance, and a number of American Prisoners were recaptured,

the affair was not one of unmixed satisfaction to either side.

When the toils of adversity began to tighten round Burgoyne in October

Gen. Powell was sorely puzzled as to his duty for though he was out of

Sir Guy Carleton's military jurisdiction yet that officer was

accessible while Burgoyne, his own proper commander was not. The

following letter, there fore, written by Sir Guy to Gen. Powell, after

Burgoyne's surrender, though in ignorance of that event, throws some

light upon the awkwardness of Powell's situation. The letter reads as

follows:--

QUEBEC, the 20th October, 1777.

SIR,--I have this moment received your letter of the 19th instant,

wherein you demand orders from me for your guidance in your present

emergency. It is impossible that I should give orders to you, not

alone because the post you are in has been taken out of my command,

but the distance is too great for my being able to judge of the

situation of Gen Burgoyne or of the exigencies of the place you are at

which must depend upon the other, as if you were subject to my

commands ignorant as I am of the strength or weakness of your post, I

should under all the other circumstances think it best for His

Majesty's service to suffer you to act by your own judgment, so you

will there fore easily see the greater necessity there is as matters

are for my leaving you to pursue such steps, as shall be suggested to

you by your own prudence and reason. I can only recommend to you not

to balance between two opposite measures, whereby you may be disabled

from following the one or the other with advantage but that either you

prepare, with vigour to put to place in such a situation as to be able

to make the longest and most resolute defence or that you prepare in

time to abandon it with all the stores while your retreat may be

certain. Your own sense will tell you that this latter would be a most

pernicious measure if there be still hopes of General Burgoyne coming

to your post.

I am, sir, &c.

Though Sir Guy did not feel at liberty to issue orders to Gen. Powell

yet he immediately despatched Gen. Maclean with the 31st regiment, the

Royal Highland Emigrants and a detachment of artillery with four guns

to take post and entrench at Chimney Point, near Crown Point, in order

to keep up communication with Ticonderoga. Two or three weeks later

Gen. Powell abandoned Ticonderoga and withdrew to Canada. After a

short tarry at St. John's he was posted at Montreal, where he

commanded during the winter of 1777-8. Then he was stationed at St

John's and in the autumn of 1780, after Lieut.-Colonel Bolton's

unfortunate loss on Lake Ontario, we find him in command of the upper

posts with his headquarters at Niagara. By Gen. Haldimand's order of

October 21st, 1782, Brig.-Gen. Maclean was assigned to the command of

the upper posts, and Gen. Powell was appointed commandant of Quebec.

How long he remained at Quebec has not been ascertained, but in 1780

he bought a fine estate on the St. Lewis Road, about two and a half

miles from Quebec to which he gave the name of Powell Place and which

he did not dispose of until 1796, when he sold it to Francis

Lehoullier. This place was subsequently known as Spencer Wood, but it

has since been divided, the larger portion being still known as

Spencer Wood, and serving as the residence of the Lieutenant-Governor,

while the smaller portion consisting of about forty acres and known as

Spencer Grange, belongs to and is the property of J. M. LeMoine,

President of the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec.

Gen. Powell became a Colonel in the army February 19th, 1779; a Major

General, November 20th, 1782; Colonel of the 69th Foot, April 16th,

1792; Colonel of the 15th Foot, June 20th, 1794 (not April 20th, as

printed in Burgoyne's Orderly Book); A Lieutenant-General, May 3rd,

1796, and a General, January 1st, 1801. He died at an advanced age at

Lyme, England, July 14th, 1814.

Army Lists--Gentleman's Magazine, vol. 84, p. 190; Burgoyne's Orderly

Book, p. 10; Hadden's Journal; Haldimand Papers; LeMoine's Maple

Leaves, 3rd series; J. M. LeMoine's Title Deeds." (_From Gen. Horatio

Rogers' Notes on HADDEN'S JOURNAL of Burgoyne's Campaign_, 1776.)

_A FÊTE CHAMPÊTRE AT POWELL PLACE._

(From the French of P. A. DeGaspé.)

"At half-past eight A.M., on a bright August morning (I say a bright

one, for such had lighted up this welcome _fête champêtre_ during

three consecutive years), the _élite_ of the Quebec _beau monde_ left

the city to attend Sir James Craig's kind invitation. Once opposite

Powell Place (now Spencer Wood) the guests left their vehicles on the

main road, and plunged into a dense forest, following a serpentine

avenue which led to a delightful cottage in full view of the majestic

St. Lawrence; the river here appears to flow past amidst luxuriant

green bowers which line its banks. Small tables for four, for six, for

eight guests are laid out facing the cottage, on a platform of planed

deals--this will shortly serve as a dancing floor _al fresco_; as the

guests successively arrive, they form in parties to partake of a

_déjeuner en famille_. I say _en famille_, for an _aide-de-camp_ and a

few waiters excepted, no one interferes with the small groups clubbed

together to enjoy their early repast, of which cold meat, radishes,

bread, tea and coffee form the staples. Those whose appetites are

appeased make room for new comers, and amuse themselves strolling

under the shade of trees. At ten the cloth is removed; the company are

all on the _qui vive_. The cottage, like the enchanted castle in the

Opera of Zemira and Azor, only awaits the magic touch of a fairy; a

few minutes elapse, and the chief entrance is thrown open; Little King

Craig followed by a brilliant staff, enters. Simultaneously an

invisible orchestra, located high amidst the dense foliage of large

trees, strikes up "God Save the King." All stand uncovered, in solemn

silence, in token of respect to the national anthem of Great Britain.

"The magnates press forward to pay their respects to His Excellency

Those who do not intend to "trip the light fantastic toe" take seats

on the platform where his Excellency sits in state; an A.D.C. calls

out, _gentlemen, take your partners_, and the dance begins.

"Close on sixty winters have run by since that day, when I,

indefatigable dancer, figured in a country dance of thirty couples. My

footsteps, which now seem to me like lead, scarcely then left a trace

behind them. All the young hearts who enlivened this gay meeting of

other days are mouldering in their tombs, even _she_, the most

beautiful of them all, _la belle des belles_--she, the partner of

my joys and of my sorrows--she who on that day accepted in the

circling dance, for the first time, this hand, which two years after

was to lead her to the hymeneal altar--yes, even she has been swept

away by the tide of death. [231] May not I also say, with Ossian,

'Why art thou sad, son of Fingal! Why grows the cloud of thy soul! the

sons of future years shall pass away, another race shall arise! The

people are like the waves of the ocean, like the leaves of woody

Morven--they pass away in the rustling blast, and other leaves lift

their green heads on high.'

"After all, why, indeed, yield up my soul in sadness? The children of

the coming generation will pass rapidly, and a new one will take its

place! Men are like the surges of the ocean, they resemble the leaves

which hang over the groves of my manor, autumnal storms cause them to

fall, but new and equally green ones each spring replace the fallen

ones. Why should I sorrow? Eighty-six children, grand-children, and

great-grand-children, will mourn the fell of the old oak when the

breach of the Almighty shall smite it. Should I have the good fortune

to find mercy before the Sovereign Judge: should it be vouchsafed to

me to meet again the angel of virtue who cheered the few happy days I

passed in this vale of sorrow, we will both pray together for the

numerous progeny we left behind us. But let us revert to the merry

meeting previously alluded to. It is half-past two in the afternoon,

we are gaily going through the figures of a country-dance, 'Speed the

plough' perhaps, when the music stops short, everyone is taken aback,

and wonders at the cause of interruption. The arrival of two prelates,

Bishop Plessis and Bishop Mountain, gave us the solution of the

enigma; an aide-de-camp had motioned to the bandmaster to stop on

noticing the entrance of the two high dignitaries of the respective

churches. The dance was interrupted whilst they were there, and was

resumed on their departure. Sir James had introduced this point of

etiquette from the respect he entertained for their persons.

"At three the loud sound of a hunters horn is heard in the distance;

all follow His Excellency in a path cut through the then virgin forest

of Powell Place. Some of the guests from the length of the walk, began

to think that Sir James had intended those who had not danced to take

a "constitutional" before dinner, when, on rounding an angle a huge

table, canopied with green boughs, groaning under the weight of

dishes, struck on their view--a grateful oasis in the desert. Monsieur

Petit, the _chef de cuisine_, had surpassed himself, like Vatel,

I imagine he would have committed suicide had he failed to achieve the

triumph by which he intended to elicit our praise. Nothing could

exceed in magnificence, in sumptuousness this repast--such was the

opinion not only of Canadians, for whom such displays were new, but

also of the European guests, though there was a slight drawback to the

perfect enjoyment of the dishes--_the materials which composed them

we could not recognize_, so great was the artistic skill, so

wonderful the manipulations of Monsieur Petit, the French cook.

"The Bishops left about half an hour after dinner, when dancing was

resumed with an increasing ardor, but the cruel mammas were getting

concerned respecting certain sentimental walks which the daughters

were enjoying after sunset. They ordered them home, if not with their

menacing attitude with which the goddess Calypso is said to have

spoken to her nymphs, at least with frowns; so said the gay young

_cavaliers_. By nine o'clock, all had re-entered Quebec."

_SPENCER GRANGE._

"Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books"--_Thomson_

When Spencer Wood became the gubernatorial residence, its owner (the late

Hy. Atkinson) reserved the smaller half, Spencer Grange, some forty acres,

divided off by a high brick wall and fence, and terminating to the east in

a river frontage of one acre. A small latticed bower facing the St.

Lawrence overhangs the cliff, close to where the Belle Borne rill--nearly

dry during the summer months--rushes down the bank to Spencer Cove, in

spring and autumn,--a ribbon of fleecy whiteness. To the south, it is

bounded by Woodfield, and reaches to the north at a point opposite the

road called Stuart's road which intersects Holland farm, leading from the

St. Lewis to the Ste. Foye highway. The English landscape style was

adopted in the laying out of the flower garden and grounds; some majestic

old trees were left here and there through the lawns; three clumps of

maple and red oak in the centre of the meadows to the west of the house

grouped for effect; fences, carefully hidden away in the surrounding

copses; hedges, buildings, walks and trees brought in here and there to

harmonize with the eye and furnish on a few acres a perfect epitome of a

woodland scene. The whole place is girt round by a zone of tall pine,

beech, maple and red oaks, whose deep green foliage, when lit up by the

rays of the setting or rising sun, assume tints of most dazzling

brightness,--emerald wreaths dipped into molten gold-overhanging under a

leafy arcade, a rustic walk, which zigzags round the property, following

to the southwest the many windings of the Belle Borne streamlet. This

sylvan region most congenial to the tastes of a naturalist, echoes in

spring and summer with the ever-varying and wild minstrelsy of the robin,

the veery, the songsparrow, the red-start, the hermit-thrush, the red-eyed

flycatcher and other feathered choristers, while the golden-winged

woodpecker or rain fowl, heralds at dawn the coming rain of the morrow,

and some crows, rendered saucy by protection, strut through the sprouting

corn, in their sable cassocks, like worldly clergymen computing their

tythes. On the aforesaid walk, once trodden over by the prince of American

naturalists, the great Audubon, whilst on a visit to Mr. Atkinson at

Spencer Wood, was conferred the name of _Audubon Avenue_, by his Sillery

disciple, the author of the _Birds of Canada. The grand river views of

Spencer Wood, are replaced by a woodland scenery, sure to please the eye

of any man of cultivated taste, accustomed to the park-like appearance of

the south of England. In front of the mansion, close to the lawn, stands

the noblest elm tree of Sillery (_Ulmus Americanus_), leafy to its very

roots. Here, amidst literature and flowers, after leaving Spencer Wood,

lived for several years Henry Atkinson, a name in those regions once

synonymous with ornamental gardens and flowers. Graperies, conservatories,

an orchid house soon sprung up under his hand at this spot, larger than

Spencer Wood had ever boasted of in its palmiest days, since 1860, it is

the seat of J. M. LeMoine.

The advent in Quebec of the great Audubon is heralded thus in the

Quebec _Gazette_ of the 23rd September, 1842:--

"To the Editor of the Quebec _Gazette_"

SIR,--It does not appear to be known to the Quebec public that one of

the most distinguished men of the present age is now on a visit to our

city--John James Audubon, the author of the magnificent work entitled

'Ornithological Biography; or an Account of the Habits of the Birds of

America, etc.' I understand that Mr. Audubon devoted nearly fifty

years of his life to this interesting subject, and has placed before

the world, at a cost of £27,000 sterling, the whole family of the

feathered tribe, giving to each its natural size, and coloured to the

very life. Mr. Audubon has brought one copy [232] of his work with

him, let as hope it may be secured by our citizens. It is his first

visit to Quebec, the splendid scenery of which has induced him to

prolong his stay a few days. His present portfolio contains several

beautiful specimens of the quadrupeds of America, now in course of

publication by him as a companion to the above splendid work, which

only requires to be seen to ensure him a numerous list of subscribers

in this neighborhood.

"In order to afford Mr. Audubon every facility in the pursuit of his

arduous and interesting undertaking, the President of the United

States and the Commander-in-Chief, General Winfield Scott, have

furnished him the necessary documents to ensure him a cordial

reception throughout the Union.

"Mr. Audubon thus speaks of his meeting on the coast of Labrador, a

British officer well known to us all in Quebec--"But few days had

elapsed, when one morning we saw a vessel making towards our

anchorage, with the gallant flag of England waving in the breeze and

as she was moored within a cable's length of the _Ripley_, I soon

paid my respects to her commander, Captain Bayfield, of the Royal

Navy. The politeness of British naval officers is proverbial, and from

the truly frank and cordial reception of this gentleman and his brave

companions in arms, I felt more than ever assured of the truth of this

opinion. On the _Gulnare_ there was an amiable and talented surgeon,

who was a proficient in botany. We afterwards met the vessel in

several other harbors.'

"The name of John James Audubon, we should hope, is quote sufficient

to ensure him a cordial welcome throughout the British dominions in

America, and we sincerely hope that his visit to Quebec may hereafter

be a source of pleasing remembrance to him.

"H.

"Quebec, Sept. 23, 1842."

(_From the Antiquarian and Numismatic Journal._)

MY VISIT TO SPENCER GRANGE, QUEBEC, IN 1856, THE COUNTRY SEAT OF J. M.

LEMOINE.

BY BENJAMIN SULTE, THE HISTORIAN OF "THREE RIVERS."

[Translated from the French.]

One of the greatest attractions for me, says Mr. Sulte, in visiting

Spencer Grange, was its museum of Canadian birds, comprising two-

thirds of the Feathered tribe of the Dominion, with a fair sprinkling

of foreign specimens in the skin, and a collection of birds' eggs. Our

friend, long known among Canadian naturalists for his persevering

efforts during twenty years to popularize [233] the beautiful and

instructive study of ornithology, had evidently met with more than one

ally--in fact, many sympathizers. I am inclined to think--in his

special branch of natural history., Each class of birds, in this

apartment, has its corner; judging by the label, its "habitation,", as

well as name.

The thrushes and flycatchers of Canada, from their exquisite bright

tints or delicate arrow-shaped markings, are particularly conspicuous.

The cinnamon-backed cuckoo must be a graceful minstrel in our green

hedges in July, though I am ashamed to admit I never was lucky enough

to meet him. The oriole, blue jay, officer-bird, summer red-bird,

indigo-bird and golden-winged woodpecker form a group of striking

beauty; a most excellent idea, I would say, to thus place in

juxtaposition the most gorgeously habited of our feathered choristers

for the sake of contrasts.

A succession of drawers contain the nests and eggs, scientifically

labelled, of many Canadian species, and of some of the most melodious

songsters of France and England; pre-eminent stands the Italian,

French and Devonshire nightingale and its eggs. Our time was much too

limited to allow us to treasure up all the anecdotes and theories

anent birds, their mysterious spring and autumn migrations, their

lively memory of places, so agreeably dealt out to us. We cannot,

however, entirely omit noticing some curious objects we saw--the tiny

nest of a West Indian humming bird male out of a piece of sponge, and

he _cubiculum_ of a redheaded woodpecker, with its eggs still in

it, scooped out of the decayed heart of a silver birch tree, with the

bird's head still peering from the orifice in the bark. Here, as well

as in the library, the presentations were numerous: Col. Rhodes was

represented by a glossy Saguenay raven. I listened, expecting each

moment to hear it, like Poe's nocturnal visitor, "ghostly, grim and

ancient," croak out "nevermore!"

The late Hon. Adam Fergusson Blair, once a familiar of Spencer Grange,

was remembered by some fine Scotch grouse, ptarmigan and a pair of

capercailzie, in splendid feather, brought from Scotland. A good

specimen of the silvery gull, shot at Niagara Falls, was a gift from

John William McCallum, Esq., now of Melbourne, E.T.--an early friend

of our friend, whilst a very rare foreign bird (a Florida or glossy

ibis), shot at Grondines, had been contributed by Paul J. Charlton,

Esq., a Quebec sportsman. What had brought it so far from home?

At the bead of the grave, omniscient owls, like the foreman of a grand

jury, stood a majestic "grand duc," the largest owl of the Pyrénées,

resembling much our Virginian species,--a donation from a French

_savant_, Le Frère Ogérien. The owls have ever been to me a deep

subject of study, their defiant aspect, thoughtful countenances, in

which lurks a _soupçon_ of rapacity, remind me of a mayor and

town council bent on imposing new taxes without raising too much of a

row.

A gaudy and sleek bird of Paradise had been donated by Miss Caron, of

the adjoining _château_. There was also a newly-patented bird-

trap, sent by a New York firm, in the days of Boss Tweed, Conolly,

Field and other birds of prey I noticed boxes for sparrows to build

in, designed by Col W Rhodes. On the floor lay a curious sample of an

Old World man-trap, not sent from New York, but direct from England, a

terror to poachers and apple stealers, French swords and venomous

looking bayonets, of very ancient design, a rusty, long Indian musket

barrel together with _tibiae_ and _tarsi_, labelled 1759-60, presents

from H. J. Chouinard, Esq., the owner in 1865 of the site of the

battlefield at St. Foye, where stands _Le Monument des Braves_. A

bristling-fretful porcupine, a ferocious-looking lynx, and several

well-mounted specimens of game had been donated by McPherson Le Moyne,

Esq., the President of the "Montreal Fish and Game Protection Club,"

also several other contributions from the same.

Who had sent the colossal St. Bernard dog, like another Maida,

talking over the lawn, we had not an opportunity of asking. We patted

him, all trembling.

The flower garden is laid out in the modern landscape style. Fences

carefully concealed, a deep fringe of hard wood trees on one side, a

trim lilac hedge on the other, and a plantation of shrubs, roan,

barbary, sumac, lilac and young maple. On the side west of the house

was observable, next to a rustic seat, in the fork of a white birch,

an archaeological monument made with the key-stone of Prescott and

Palace Gates when removed by order of the City Corporation, [234] it

stands about ten feet in height.

From this spot, spanned by a little rustic bridge, a walk meanders

round the property to the west, canopied by a grove of silver birch,

oak, beach, pine and maple. Along the serpentine brook, Belle-Borne,

now so diminutive, and which, according to the historian Ferland, two

centuries ago turned the wheel of a mill below, is visible a dam,

creating a small pond in May, June and July, a favorite bathing place,

we are told, for the thrushes, robins and other songsters of the

adjoining groves. This tiny runlet is fringed with several varieties

of ferns, dog-tooth violets and other algae--(_From L'Opinion

Publique._)

_SPENCER OR BAGATELLE COTTAGE._

"We have many little Edens

Scattered up and down our dales;

We've a hundred pretty hamlets,

Nestling in our fruitful vales,

Here the sunlight loves to linger,

And the summer winds to blow,

Here the rosy spring in April,

Leapeth laughing from the snow."

On the western corner of the Spencer Grange property, and dependant to it,

can be seen from the road, _Bagatelle_--a long, straggling, picturesque

cottage, in the Italian style, with trees, rustic seats, walks and a

miniature flower-garden round it; a small prospect pavillion opens on the

St. Lewis road, furnishing a pretty view of the blue range of mountains to

the north; in summer it peeps from under clusters of the green or purple

leaves of some luxuriant _Virginian_ creepers--our American ivy--which

climb round it. _Bagatelle was generally occupied by an _attaché_ of

Spencer Wood, in the days of the Earl of Elgin and Sir Edmund W. Head.

Bagatelle is a quiet little nest, where our Canadian Laureate, Fréchette,

might be tempted to pen an invitation to his brother bard of the city,

LeMay, somewhat in the manner of the soft warbler of Albion towards his

friend the Revd. P. D. Maurice:

"Where, far from smoke or noise of town,

I watch the twilight falling brown

All round a careless ordered garden,

Close to the ridge of a noble down.

You'll have no scandal while you dine,

But honest talk and wholesome wine,

And only hear the magpie gossip

Garrulous under a roof of pine.

For groves of pine on either hand,

To break the blast of winter, stand;

And further on the hoary channel

Tumbles a breaker on chalk and sand."

The poet has sometimes received as well as sent out poetical invitations.

Here is one from Water Savage Landor.

"I entreat you, Alfred Tennyson,

Come and share my haunch of venison,

I have, too, a bin of claret,

Good, but better when you share it.

Though 'tis only a small bin

There's a stock of it within,

And, as sure as I'm a rhymer,

Half a butt of Rudesheimer,

Come, among the sons of men is none

Welcomer than Tennyson?"

_THE WOODFIELD OF THE PAST._

"Deambulatio per loca amoena."--_Frascatorius_

"Unquestionably the most ornate and richly laid-out estate around Quebec

is Woodfield, formerly the elegant mansion of the Honorable Wm. Sheppard,

afterwards of Fairymead, Drummondville. For many years past it has become

the permanent residence of the Gibb family. The horticultural department

and conservatory are under the immediate charge of Andrew Torrance, Esq.,

Mrs. Gibb's brother. His taste is too well known to require any praise,

and truly may it be said that the lovers of sweet flowers, trim hedges,

and fairy scenery, can easily beguile several hours together in exploring

the broad acres of Woodfield, equal in extent to Spencer Wood itself. In

the year 1646, the company of New France, under M. de Montmagny, conceded

this land, a lot of ground, with a frontage of three _arpents_, to

Jean Bouvart dit Lafortune. Jean Beauvart resold in 1649 to Barthélémy

Gaudin, in 1702 this land was possessed by Guillaume Pagé dit Garey. In

1724, Nicholas de la Nouiller purchased it and sold it in 1731 to

Monseigneur Dosquet, Bishop of Samos. In 1762, the seminary, then

proprietor of these grounds, conceded to Thomas Ainsley, the portion on

which stood the house, built by Bishop Dosquet. Judge Mabane acquired it

in 1769, he died in 1792, when his sister Miss. Isabella Mabane purchased

it in 1794 and held it until 1805, when the Honorable Matthew Bell

purchased it.

Let us hear on this subject one who knows how to describe and embellish a

country seat.--

"In the early part of the last century," says the Honorable Wm. Sheppard,

"this estate was in the possession of Monseigneur Dosquet, [235] titular

Bishop of Samos _in partibus infidelum_, and he gave it that name

after his Episcopal title. He built a substantial stone residence near the

brow of the hill, overlooking the St. Lawrence--a one story house--with a

high peaked roof, long and narrow, after the mode of building in those

days, something in the style of the manor house at Beauport. The name of

Samos is now superseded by that of Woodfield, yet it is still in use as

applied to the high road passing on its western side, commencing at the

termination of the road leading from Quebec in that direction, called the

Grand Allée, where it forks into the Samos road and the Chemin Gomin at

Spencer Wood. It is not known how long Bishop Dosquet occupied his estate.

"Soon after the cession of Canada to the British Crown, this property

passed into the hands of Judge Mabane, [236] by purchase, from the

reverend proprietors of the seigniory. Mr. Mabane changed the name to

Woodfield, and made extensive alterations to the house, adding to it a

second story, giving it by other additions a more imposing appearance from

the river, and adding two pavillion wings, connected with the house by

corridors. In 1775-6 it was converted into an hospital for American

soldiers.

"About the year 1807, the late Honorable Matthew Bell purchased Woodfield

from Miss Mabane, the Judge's sister. Mr. Bell occupied the house as a

summer dwelling only, and it is not known that he improved the estate to

any extent, unless it were the garden, which he enlarged and stocked with

choice fruit trees. Previous to the purchase of Mr. Bell, Woodfield was

occupied as a dwelling during several years (1795-1802) by Bishop

Mountain, the first Protestant Bishop of Quebec. During his occupation he

removed a bridge which spanned Bell Borne Brook, with the intention of

cutting off communication with Powell Place (Spencer Wood), the

neighboring estate, for reasons which it is not now necessary to enter

into. The bridge was subsequently restored, by the sons of Sir R. S.

Milnes, Governor General, and was known by the name of Pont Bonvoisin.

"In 1816 Woodfield passed into the possession of Mr. William Sheppard, by

purchase, from Mr. Bell. Mr. Sheppard improved the house and grounds

greatly, erecting vineries and a large conservatory, changing the front of

the house so as to look upon a rising lawn of good extent, interspersed

with venerable oaks and pine, giving the whole a striking and pleasing

aspect. The alteration in the house gave it a very picturesque appearance,

as viewed from the foot of the old avenue, backed by sombre pines Mr.

Sheppard added to the estate about sixty acres of land on its southern

side, it being now bounded by the road leading to St. Michael's Cove.

During the alterations made in the house, a leaden foundation plate was

discovered, stating that the house was built in 1732, by Bishop Dosquet.

This plate was deposited for safe keeping in the Museum of the Literary

and Historical Society, where (if still extant) it may be consulted.

"In December 1842, the house was unfortunately destroyed by fire, and with

it a valuable library of some three thousand volumes, many of them costly

illustrated works on Natural History and other sciences. Shortly

afterwards a new house was built on a more desirable and commanding site,

in the midst of splendid old oaks and pines, looking down upon an

extensive lawn, with the St Lawrence in the middle distance, the view

terminated by the South Shore, studded with cheerful-looking cottages. To

suit the new site Mr. Sheppard laid out a new approach, placing the

entrance somewhat nearer Quebec, than the old avenue, following the

roundings of Belle Borne Brook, and leaving it with a striking sweep,

among groups of trees, to the house. This approach is one of the greatest

attractions of the place. He also built a large conservatory in connection

with the house.

"Woodfield changed hands in 1847, having been purchased by Thos. Gibb,

Esq., who exchanged it with his brother, Jas. Gibb, Esq., a wealthy

merchant of Quebec, president of the Quebec Bank, who added much to the

beauty of the estate. [237] Woodfield, with the improvements and

embellishments made by the preceding proprietor is one of the most

imposing and showy places in Canada, well worthy the encomiums passed upon

it by J. Jay Smith, Esq., of Philadelphia, editor of the

_Horticulturist_, who, with a party of friends, visited it in 1857.

He says, in that work, 'James Gibb, Esq., at Woodfield, possesses one of

the most charming places on the American continent. Thoroughly English in

its appurtenances, and leaving out its views of the St. Lawrence, its

lawns, trees, and superb garden are together, a model of what may be

accomplished. The whole scene was enchanting. The traveller felt as if he

was transported to the best parts of England, our whole party uniting in

an exclamation of pleasure and gratification. Here is everything in the

way of well-kept lawns, graperies and greenhouses, outhouses for every

possible contingency of weather, gardens, redolent of the finest flowers,

in which bulbs of the best lilies make a conspicuous figure, and every

species of fruit that can be grown. The traveller who does not see

Woodfield hah not seen Canada in its best trim.'

"The remains of one redoubt [238] are visible near Belle Borne Brook, just

above Pont Bonvoisin, or Bridge of Friendship, no doubt intended to guard

the approach to Quebec by the footpath from Pointe à Puiseaux. Another

large one was on the west side of Samos road, nearly opposite the entrance

gate of the new approach to Woodfield, it commanded the Samos road.

"Woodfield once could boast of a well-stocked aviary. The garden, of large

extent, has always been celebrated for its fruit and flowers, for the

taste in which it was laid out, and for the beautiful prospect obtained

from it of the Citadel of Quebec, of the intervening portion of the St.

Lawrence, with the numerous shipping in the harbour busily engaged in

taking in their return cargoes of the staple article of exportation."

Since this sketch was published in the _Maple Leaves_ for 1865, death

has borne heavily on the estimable Gibb family we then knew at Woodfield;

and in 1879, Mr. John Lawson Gibb sold the old homestead as a site for an

ornate rural cemetery.

"WOODFIELD CONSERVATORY--On 10th Feby, 1869 we availed ourselves of

the opportunity afforded to the public of visiting this celebrated

conservatory, and feasting our eyes on the immense mass of floral

treasures which it contains. Flora's rarest gifts from every quarter

of the globe are here in full bloom. The Indian Azaleas are

magnificent beyond description--the one near the entrance called

'Criterion" is exquisitely beautiful, Roi Leopold, purpurea and alba

are also very handsome. The Dielytra, or Bleeding Heart, is chaste and

beautiful the Joy plant (Chorozema) from the Swan River, struck us as

particularly interesting, the colours of the flower are so

harmoniously blended, the Golden-leaved Geranium (Cloth of Gold)--well

worthy the name, with intense scarlet flowers, is very pretty Numerous

Camelias of every shade and colour, these we think may well be called

the Queen of winter flowers rivalling in beauty the famous "rose." The

Cinerarias and Cape cowslips are very fine, and so are the Acacias

Many beautiful and interesting Ferns, the most remarkable being the

elks-horn, walking fern, hearts-tongue, maiden-hair and silver-

braken."--_Morning Chronicle._

_SOUS LES BOIS._

This country seat, two miles from the city limits, stands in view of

Pointe à Puiseaux, at Sillery, exactly fronting the mouth of the Etchemin

River Imagine a roomy, substantial, one story cottage equally well

protected in winter against the piercing north, east and west winds,

surrounded by large oaks and pines to temper the rays of an August sun,

and through whose foliage the cool river breeze murmurs in the vernal

season, wafting pleasure and health to the inmates Add one of those

unrivalled river landscapes, peculiar to Sillery, well cultivated fruit

gardens, pastures, meadows, and lawns intersected by a long curving

avenue, fringed with single trees at times, at others tastefully concealed

in a clump of evergreens, and leading to the house by a circuitous

approach, which hides the mansion until you are a few feet of it Place in

it a toiling professional man, eager, after a dusty summer day's work in

St Peter street, to breathe the coolness and fragrance of his rustic

homestead, and enjoy the presence of his household gods, again, add to it

the conviction in his heart that country life has increased the span of

his existence by twenty years, and you have a faint idea of one of our

many Canadian homes, of _Sous les Bois_ the former residence of Errol

Boyd Lindsay, Esq., one of the few remaining Quebecers who can recall the

festivities of Powell Place, when Sir James Craig flourished there in

1809.

In 1870, _Sous les Bois_ was disposed of for educational purposes. The

flourishing Jésus Marie Academy, with its shiny dome and lofty walls,

looms out in the very centre of the demesne The Lindsay manor, at present,

is the hospitable lodge of the devoted and talented almoner of the

Convent, Rev. Abbé Octave Audette.

_SILLERY HOUSE._

This handsome dwelling, is situated at the foot of the Cape, close to the

Jesuits' old house, on a line with the river: it stands in the centre of

an extensive garden, with here and there some large forest trees

interspersed.

The residence was built a few years back by the late John Sharples,

Esquire, of the firm of Sharples & Co., whose vast timber coves are in

view from Sillery house.

ST. MICHAEL'S CHURCH, SILLERY

"A rural chapel neatly dress'd,

In covert like a little nest;

And thither young and old repair

This Sabbath day, for praise and prayer."

--_The White Doe of Rylstone_.

St. Michael's Church was built by some spirited parishioners, in front of

Mount Hermon Cemetery; a not inappropriate monument on their part to the

memory of the ancient and worthy patron of the parish. St. Michael's

Church was weekly honoured by the attendance of the Sovereign's

representative and _suite_ when inhabiting Spencer Wood; and on fine

summer days by the rank and fashion of the neighbouring metropolis. It is

a handsome cut-stone church, in the Gothic style. The incumbent for many

years has been the Rev. Anthony A. Von Iffland.

This neat Gothic structure was erected in 1854, at a cost of $12,400,

the proceeds of the munificent donations of several members of its

congregation and others. The ground on which it stands was presented,

as a gift, by Mrs. Jas. Morrin. Several handsome stained-glass

windows, representing scriptural scenes, have been recently added. We

read, amongst others, the following names on the list of subscribers

to the foundation of the chapel, parsonage and school-house:--

Sir Edmund Head Lord Monck The Lord Bishop Mountain

Colonel Rhodes Henry Lemesurier Denis Godley

Ed. Burstall Charles E. Levey Jos. B. Forsyth

Captain Retallack Captain Pemberton Colonel Boomer

J. Walker E. Jackson F. H. Andrews

Miss Mountain D. D. Young C. N. Montizambert

Miss Cochran Rev. A. Mountain Mrs. Carroll

F. Burroughs W. F. Wood Robert Hamilton

Wm. Petry Honorable W. Walker Mrs. J. Gibb

W. Price Michael Stevenson Major H. W. Campbell

T. K. Ramsay Mrs. Helmuth Okill Stuart

Lieut.-Colonel Mountain John Jordan

Miss Guerout Hon. Henry Black G. B. Symes & Co.

J. F. Taylor Mrs. Montizambert C. Coker

G. Alford Mrs. Forsyth H. S. Scott.

N. H. Bowen G. Hall Mrs. G. R. Mountain

Charles Hamilton J. K. Boswell James Gibb

Rich Tremain T. G. Penny J. H. Oakes

Miss Taylor W. Drum Mrs. Woodbury

Dr. Boswell W. Herring Miss George

Charles Wilson John Giles Charles O'Neill

Preston Copeman Thomas Nelson Society for the Promotion

Thomas Beckett Barthy W. Goff of Christian Knowledge

Through the aid and efforts of the late Charles E. Levey, Esq., of

Cataracoui, a handsome organ was subscribed for in England, and now

graces St. Michael's Chapel.

MOUNT HERMON

A SPOT DEAR TO QUEBECERS

Oh, Hermon! oft I wander o'er,

Thy silent records of the past,

In fancy, when the storm and roar

Of icy winter holds thee fast,

But, when the gentle spring-time tells

'Tis time to rove amid the flow'rs,

I love to walk amid thy dells,

And dream once more of happy hours.

All seems a dream! thy lovely slopes,

O'ershadowed with primeval trees,

Are rich with many blighted hopes,

And ceaseless tears, _He_ only sees

What broken hearts, and scatter'd homes,

And grief of mourners ne'er since met,

One pictures by these solemn tombs,

This scene of parting and regret!

Bless'd spot! though long, long years ago

That loving one was buried here,

My soul still ever seeks to know

When once again we shall be near!

A day ne'er pass'd in foreign climes,

At home, or on the restless sea,

But I have sought thee many times,

Oh, Hermon! ever dear to me.

S. B. F.

In this neighbourhood is situated Mount Hermon Cemetery. It is about three

miles from Quebec, on the south side of the St. Lewis road, and slopes

irregularly, but beautifully, down the cliff which overhangs the St.

Lawrence. It is thirty two acres in extent, and the grounds were

tastefully laid out by the late Major Douglas, U. S. Engineers, whose

taste and skill had been previously shown in the design of Greenwood

Cemetery, near New York. A carriage drive, upwards of two miles in extent,

affords access to all parts of the grounds, and has been so arranged as to

afford the most perfect view of the scenery. The visitor, after driving

over the smooth lawn-like open surface, finds himself suddenly transferred

by a turn of the road into a dark avenue of stately forest trees, from

which he emerges to see the broad St. Lawrence almost beneath him, with

the city of Quebec and the beautiful slopes of Point Levi in the distance.

Many beautiful monuments now adorn the grounds, some of which are from

Montreal and some from Scotland; but the great majority are the

productions of Mr. Felix Morgan, of Quebec, and do credit to his taste and

skill. Many of them are beautiful and costly structures of Italian marble.

The Aberdeen and Peterhead granite is much used at present for monuments

to the departed.

A neat gothic lodge at the entrance of the grounds contains the office and

residence of the superintendent. In the former, a complete plan of the

grounds is kept, every separate grave being marked upon it with its

appropriate number, so that at any future time, on consulting it, the

exact spot of interment can be ascertained, and the Register which is also

kept, affords information respecting the places of birth, age, and date of

death.

There are few sites round Quebec more attractive to visit, especially

during the month of September, than the last abode of the departed,

crowning the green banks of the St. Lawrence at Sillery--the Cemetery of

Mount Hermon. Apart from possessing some of the most picturesque scenery

in America, this spot borrows from the glories of autumn tints of a fairy

brightness. In providing for the repose of the dead, the citizens of all

denominations seemed to have vied to surpass one another. Scarcely had the

skilful designer, Major Douglas, U.S.E., completed the laying out of the

Mount Hermon grounds, when a strong desire was manifested in all quarters

to do away with _intra mural_ burials. In a very short time, the

Roman Catholics had selected as a cemetery the lovely old seat of the late

Mr. Justice P. Panet, on the banks of the St. Charles, whilst a few years

later the shady groves of Belmont, on the Ste. Foye road, were required

for a similar object. The ornamentation of a _necropolis_ must naturally

be a work of time, trees do not spring up in one summer, nor do lawns

clothe themselves with a soft, green velvety surface in one season, and if

the flowers in Mount Hermon are so beautiful and so well attended to, the

secret in a measure possibly rests with the landscape gardener located at

the entrance, and who professes to furnish flowers for the adornment of

cemetery lots, and to plant and keep them fresh during the summer. The St.

Charles, St. Patrick and Belmont Cemeteries, which do not enjoy in the

same measure these facilities, cannot be expected to possess all the

rustic adornments of their elder brother. One may safely predict that ere

many summers go by, our public cemeteries, by their natural beauty, are

likely to attract crowds of strangers, as Greenwood and Mount Auburn do in

the States. Chaste monumental marbles, on which can be detected the chisel

of English, Scotch and Canadian artists, are at present noticeable all

over the grounds, tastefully laid out and smiling _parterres_ of annuals

and perennials throw a grateful fragrance over the tomb where sleeps

mayhap a beloved parent, a kind sister, an affectionate brother, a true

friend, a faithful lover. How forcibly all this was brought to our minds

recently on strolling through the shady walks of Mount Hermon. Under the

umbrageous trees, perfumed by roses and lilies, tombs, [239] silent,

innumerable tombs on all sides, on marble, the names of friends, kindred,

acquaintances, solemn stillness all round us, at our feet the placid

course of our majestic flood. There were indeed many friends round us,

though invisible, nay, on counting over the slumberers, we found we had

more, though not dearer friends, in this abode of peace than within the

walls of yonder city. Overpowered by mournful, though soothing thoughts,

we walked along pondering over those truthful reflections of Washington

Irving:--

"There is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song, there is a

recollection of the dead to which we turn ever from the charms of the

living Oh, the grave! the grave! It buries every error, covers every

defect, extinguishes every resentment. From its peaceful bosom spring

none but fond regrets and tender recollections. * * * The grave of

those we loved--what a place for meditation. There it is that we call

up in long review the whole history of virtue and gentleness, and the

thousand endearments lavished upon us almost unheeded in the daily

intercourse of intimacy; there it is that we dwell upon the

tenderness, the solemn, awful tenderness of the parting scene; the bed

of death with all its stifled grief; its noiseless attendants; its

mute, watchful assiduities; the last testimonies of expiring love; the

feeble, faltering, thrilling (oh, how thrilling!) pressure of the

hand; the last fond look of the glazing eye, turning upon us from the

threshold of existence; the faint, faltering accents struggling in

death to give once more assurance of affection! aye, go to the grave

of buried love and meditate! There settle the account with thy

conscience for every past benefit unrequited, every past endearment

unregarded of that being who can never, never, never return to be

soothed by thy contrition. If thou art a child and hast ever added a

sorrow to the soul, or a furrow to the silvered brow of an

affectionate parent; if thou art a husband and hast ever caused the

fond bosom that ventured its whole happiness in thy arms to doubt one

moment of thy kindness or thy truth; if thou art a friend and hast

ever wronged in thought, word or deed the spirit that generously

confided in thee; if thou art a lover and hast ever given one

unmerited pang to that true heart that now lies cold and still beneath

thy feet, then be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word,

every ungentle action will come thronging back upon thy memory and

knocking dolefully at thy soul....

Then weave that chaplet of flowers and strew the beauties of nature

about the grave; console thy broken spirit if thou canst with these

tender, though futile, tributes of regret; but take warning over the

dead, and be more faithful and affectionate in the discharge of thy

duties to the living." Reader, allow not pensive September to close in

without visiting Mount Hermon, linger under its silent shades, go

partake of the joy of grief, and meditate at the grave of a buried

love.

"MONUMENT TO LIEUT. BAINES, R.A.--Few of our readers but recollect and

cherish the name of Lieut. Baines, who unfortunately lost his life

while gallantly endeavoring to arrest the progress of the

conflagration which destroyed the greater portion of St. Roch's

suburbs in October, 1866. His gallant devotion to duty, and his zeal

in one of the most praiseworthy and charitable objects that ever

engaged the attention of man, has caused his memory to be cherished

with love and respect by every one of our citizens. Last year the

ladies of the General Hospital sent a tribute of their gratitude to

his widowed mother in England, worked by their own hands. Now the

citizens of Quebec have completed their share of the grateful task. We

had the mournful pleasure yesterday of viewing one of the most chaste

and graceful monuments that adorn Mount Hermon Cemetery, erected by

public subscription, and placed over the grave of one whose memory is

so dearly cherished by all. The monument is of the Egyptian style of

architecture, an obelisk 18 feet in height, with a base of 4 feet 10

inches, designed and modelled by our talented fellow-citizen, Mr. F.

Morgan, sculptor, St. John street, so many of whose classic memorials

of the dead grace Mount Hermon. It is cut from a solid block of

imported sandstone, and in chasteness of design or execution is not

excelled on this continent. It bears the following inscription:--

Erected by the citizens of Quebec

To preserve the memory

and to record their gratitude for the

gallant services of

Lieut. Henry Edmund Baines,

Royal Artillery,

whose death was occasioned by his noble

efforts to arrest the progress

of the calamitous fire

which, on the 14th Oct., 1866

destroyed a large portion of the city.

Born at Shrewsbury, England, April 4, 1840

Died at Quebec Oct. 27, 1866

Surmounting the epitaph is the coat of arms of the Royal Artillery,

chiselled out of the solid block by the hands of a finished artist,

with the motto of the regiment in a scroll underneath--"_Quo fas et

gloria ducunt_' The erection of this, monument to the memory of the

brave but unfortunate young officer is a noble tribute of gratitude on

the part of our citizens, and in entrusting its execution to our

talented fellow-townsman, Mr. Morgan, the committee has shown a wise,

discretion that makes the completion of their task one upon which they

may heartily congratulate themselves.

A VOICE FROM MOUNT HERMON

DEDICATED TO MRS. BAINES, BY MRS. A. CAMPBELL

My dust lies sleeping here,

Mother dear!

In this, far off distant land,

Away from your little band,

And the touch of loving hand,

Your boy lies sleeping here,

Mother dear!

The Ocean rolls between

Mother dear!

You and your own boy's grave,

And the distant rush of waves

On the pebbly shore to lave,

Is the requiem sung between,

Mother dear!

Mine is a sweet green spot.

Mother dear!

And the song of the bird

Is ever heard

In the trees that gird

Us, in this quiet spot

Mother dear!

And echo answers here

Mother dear!

The tinkle of chapel bell,

And the murmur of its knell

And the mourners "_It is well_,'

Echo answers here,

Mother dear!

To picture my last home,

Mother dear!

I am laid me down to rest,

Where "Our Father" saw 'twas best,

In this quiet little nest,

For my last home,

Mother dear!

And my spirit is with Him,

Mother dear!

In the precious home above,

Where all is light and love,

There rests your own dear dove,

Now with Him,

Mother dear!

Through Jesus' blood I'm here,

Mother dear!

In this happy, heavenly land,

One of a glorious band,

Touched by His healing hand,

Through Jesus I am here,

Mother dear!

So dry that bitter tear,

Mother dear!

'Twill not be very long

Ere with Jesus you'll sing the song,

Sung by those who to Him belong,

And wipe that bitter tear--

Mother dear!

BARDFIELD

THE LATE BISHOP MOUNTAIN'S COUNTRY SEAT.

"Far from me and my friends be that frigid philosophy, which can make

us pass unmoved over any scenes which have been consecrated by virtue,

by valour, or by wisdom."--JOHNSON.

Pleasant the memories of our rustic homes! 'Tis pleasant, after December's

murky nights, or January and February's inexorable chills, to go and bask

on the sunny banks of our great river, under the shade of trees, in the

balmy spring, and amidst the gifts of a bountiful nature, to inhale

fragrance and health and joy. Pleasant, also, to wander during September

in our solemn woods, "with footsteps inaudible on the soft yellow floor,

composed of the autumnal sheddings of countless years." Yes, soothing to

us are these memories of home--of home amusements, home pleasures, and

even of home sorrows. Sweeter still, even though tinged with melancholy,

the remembrance of the departed friends,--those guardian spirits we once

saw moving in some of our Canadian homes in the legitimate pride of

hospitality--surrounded by young and loving hearts--enshrined in the

respect of their fellow men.

Oft has it been our privilege at that festive season of our year, when a

hallowed custom brings Canada's sons and daughters together with words of

greeting and good-fellowship, to wend our way to Bardfield, high on the

breezy hills of Sillery, and exchange a cordial welcome with the venerable

man who had dwelt in our midst for many long years. Seldom has it been our

lot to approach one who, as a scholar, a gentleman, a prelate, or what is

more than all those titles put together, a truly good man, impressed

himself more agreeably on our mind.

Another revolution of the circling year and the good pastor, the courteous

gentleman, the learned divine, our literary [240] friend and neighbour,

the master of Bardfield, had been snatched from among us and from an

admiring public. Where is the Quebecer who has not noticed the neat

cottage on the north of the St. Lewis road, where lived and died the Lord

Bishop Mountain? As you pass, you see as formerly its lovely river view,

gravelled walks, curving avenue, and turfy lawns, luxuriant hedges

designed by a hand now cold in death. Bardfield continues to be occupied

by Miss Mountain and other members of the late Bishop's family. A school

house, in the rural Gothic style, quite an ornament to Sillery, has been

erected by His Lordship's family, as a memorial of the sojourn at this

spot of this true friend of suffering humanity and patron of education.

Bardfield, founded about forty years ago by an eminent merchant of Quebec,

Peter Burnet, Esquire, was recently purchased by Albert Furness, Esquire

and by him leased to Charles Earnest Levey, Esquire, until Kirke Ella, the

property of Mr. Levy, is rebuilt.

THE FAMILY OF MOUNTAIN

The family of Mountain, which is a very old Norman family, and

therefore of French extraction, originally wrote their name "de

Montaigne," from the name of their estates at Périgord, near Bordeaux,

and as stated in the life of one of its members, the well-known

Michael Seigneur de Montaigne, the essayist and philosopher, "This

race was noble, but noble without any great lustre till his time,

which fortune showed him signal favours, and, together with honorary

and titular distinctions, procured for him the collar of the Order of

St. Michael, which at that time was the utmost mark of honour of the

French _noblesse_, and very rare. He was twice elected mayor of

Bordeaux, his father, a man of great honour and equity, having

formerly also had the same dignity."

Michael left only a daughter--Leonor or Leonora, who by marrying a

distant cousin of the same name, preserved the estates in the family,

as they had been for more than a century before they were inherited by

her father. These remained in possession of the senior branch until

the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, when, having espoused the

Protestant cause, they were forced to sacrifice them and quit the

country in 1685, with what ready money they could hastily get

together. With this they purchased an estate in Norwich, England; from

which in after generations several of the family went out to Canada,

and among them the late Bishop of Quebec.

To him, likewise I have heard attributed the irreverent piece of wit

alluded to by the _Witness_; but with equal injustice, as his son, the

late Bishop of Quebec assured me. [241]

It is one of those sayings evidently made up for people whose names or

position suit for hanging them on.

George Mountain, D.D., Archbishop of York, was a contemporary of

Michael de Montaigne, and a scion of the same family, though through a

younger branch, which appears to have crossed over from France about

the time of the massacre of St. Bartholomew in the reign of Queen

Elizabeth, and for the same reason that the elder branch did

afterwards, namely, because of their religious tenets.

It is not by any means improbable that by this separation from the

rest of his family, who were still adherents of the Roman Catholic

faith, and the consequent abandonment of worldly prospects for the

sake of religious principles, the Archbishop's progenitors may have

been reduced in circumstances, but only comparatively with what he had

lost before, for history shows that the Archbishop himself was, born

at Callwood Castle, educated at Queen's College, Cambridge, chosen a

Fellow in 1591, and Junior Proctor of that University in 1600, Dean of

Westminster in 1610, Bishop of Lincoln in 1617, Bishop of London in

1621, Bishop of Durham in 1627, and Archbishop of York in 1628.

JACOB J. C. MOUNTAIN,

Formerly of Coteau de Lac, Canada, now Vicar of Bulford, England.

BULFORD VICARAGE, Amesbury, Salisbury, May 30, 1877.

BENMORE.

We like to portray to ourselves our energetic neighbour of Benmore House,

such as we can recall him in his palmy, sporting days of 1865; we shall

quote from the _Maple Leaves_ of that year:

"It will not be one of the least glories of 'Our Parish,' even when the

Province will have expanded into an empire, with Sillery as the seat of

Vice Royalty, to be able to boast of possessing the Canadian, the adopted

home of a British officer of wealth and intelligence, known to the

sporting world as the Great Northern Hunter. Who had not heard of the

_battues_ of Col. Rhodes on the snow-clad peaks of Cap Tourment, on

the Western Prairies, and all along the Laurentian chain of mountains? One

man alone through the boundless territory extending from Quebec to the

North Pole, can dispute the belt with the Sillery Nimrod, but then, a

mighty hunter is he; by name in the St. Joachim settlement, Olivier

Cauchon, to Canadian sportsmen known as _Le Roi des Bois_. It is said, but

we cannot vouch for the fact--that Cauchon, in order to acquire the scent,

swiftness and sagacity of the cariboo, has lived on cariboo milk, with an

infusion of moss and bark, ever since his babyhood, but that this very

winter (1865) he killed, with slugs, four cariboo at one shot, we can

vouch for.

A few weeks since, a _habitant_ with a loaded sleigh passed our gate;

on the top of his load was visible a noble pair of antlers. "Qui a tué--

ces cariboo?" we asked. Honest John Baptiste replied, "Le Colonel Rhodes,

Monsieur." Then followed a second--then a third. Same question asked, to

which for reply--"Le Colonel Rhodes, Monsieur." Then another sleigh load

of cariboo, in all twelve Cariboo, two sleighs of hare, grouse and

ptarmigan, then a man carrying a dead _carcajou_, then in the distance,

the soldier-like phiz of the Nimrod himself, nimbly following on foot the

cavalcade. This was too much, we stopped and threatened the Colonel to

apply to Parliament for an Act to protect the game of Canada against his

unerring rifle. Were we not fully aware of the gratifying fact, that,

under recent legislative enactment, the fish and game of Canada have much

increased, we might be inclined to fancy that the Colonel will never rest

until he has bagged the last moose, the last cariboo in the country.

Benmore nestles cosily in a pine grove on the banks of the great river,

the type of an English Country gentleman's homestead. In front of the

house, a spacious piazza, from which you can watch the river craft; in the

vast surrounding meadows, a goodly array of fat Durhams and Ayrshires, in

the farm-yard, short-legged Berkshires squeaking merrily in the distance,

rosy-cheeked English boys romping on the lawn, surrounded by pointers and

setters: such, the grateful sights which, greeted our eyes one lovely June

morning round Benmore House, the residence of the President of the Quebec

Game Club, and late member of Parliament for Megantic." (Written in 1865.)

IMPORTATION OF BIRDS.

Sixteen years have elapsed since these lines were penned, and the Colonel

has devoted much time, spent a large amount of capital on his vegetable

farm and his green houses. Agriculturalists and naturalists will know him

as the introducer of the English sparrow and the Messina quail.

_THE SPARROW AND QUAIL._

Information for Mr. Lemoine on the importation of the European house

sparrow and on that of the migratory quail. In consequence of great

complaints all over the United States of the ravages of insects and

particularly of caterpillars, amongst street and park trees and their

visible destruction, it was generally recommended to girdle the trees

with tin troughs containing oil or some liquid, also to pick the

insects off the infected trees. This course had been followed to a

very considerable extent, when it struck me the importation of the

common house sparrow would meet the difficulty. In 1854 I imported

sparrows. I turned loose six birds at Portland, Maine, and brought

about as many more to Quebec.

On turning the birds loose at Portland, I wrote a letter to the

_Portland Advertiser_, recommending the English sparrow as an

insect destroyer, especially in the early spring months when the

native birds are away on their migrations. This idea of picking off

insects with birds commended itself to the municipal authorities of

Boston and other large cities, who made large importations of

sparrows, with the result of saving their ornamental trees from

destruction.

The first colony of sparrows failed at Quebec. I therefore made two

more importations, succeeding at last by wintering over thirteen birds

--This occurred about ten years ago, there are now house sparrows all

over Canada, our French Canadians say "_C'est un oiseau qui suit la

Religion_" frequenting churches, convents and sacred places, and it

is considered a privilege to have so good a bird about the house. The

sparrow lives readily in Canada, as it feeds on the droppings of the

horse and takes shelter down the chimneys or under the roofs of the

houses. The enemies of the sparrow are very numerous, notably the

great Northern Shrike, the owls, hawks and in summer the swifts and

swallows. I have seen the English sparrow from New York to St.

Francisco, and from the Saguenay to Florida. In some places the bird

is used as an article of food, and there is no doubt this will be the

case generally; it will also become an object of sport for young

shooters and trappers in America, the same as it has always been in

Europe.

THE QUAIL.

I imported this bird in 1880, turning loose over 100 birds between

Quebec and the river Saguenay, I cannot say what has been the result;

the French population have taken much interest in this importation,

because they understand it is a bird well known in France as La

Caille, and I have no doubt it will become quite numerous in our

French settlements wherever it is established.

Large numbers of migratory quail have been imported for the State of

Maine, 2,500 birds were turned loose in 1880, in all about 10,000

quails have been imported for the United States and Canada during the

last few years, and as no importations are being made this year we

shall see what the migratory instinct does for the North in the spring

of the year?

It is very certain the migratory quail leave for parts unknown at an

early period in the autumn, but where they go to and whether they

return to the north has not been established; whilst they are with us,

they are very friendly, frequently mixing with the chickens in the

back yards. It is not improbable the feeling which gives hospitality

to the house sparrow will extend itself to the Farmer's Quail, and

that the latter bird may receive the same treatment from the settler

as he gives to ordinary domestic fowl, such as Pigeons, Guinea fowl,

and so on.--_W. Rhodes_.

BENMORE, 4th February, 1881.

N.B.--The house sparrow has indeed multiplied amazingly and though an

emigrant and not "un enfant du sol" has found a hearty welcome. 'Tis

said that he scares away our singing birds, if he should thus

interfere with the freedom of action of the _natives_, he will get the

cold shoulder, even though he should be an _emigrant_.

The sparrow though a long suffering bird is neither meek nor

uncomplaining. A "limb of the law" is, we are told, responsible for

the following:

_A HUMBLE APPEAL._

(_To the Editor of the Morning Chronicle_.)

DEAR SIR,--Oft, doubtless, passing through the Ring,

Me you have seen in autumn, summer, spring--

Picking, with gleesome chirp, and nimble feet,

My scanty living from the public street;

Or else devouring in those golden hours,

Insects from cabbages and other flowers:--

Ah me! those happy days!--but they are past,

And winter with his harsh and biting blast

Remind me and my fellow-sparrows bold

Of coming snow-storms, ice and sleet and cold;

Reminds us, too, of those far-off abodes,

Whence we were rudely reft by Col. R----s,

On his acclimatizing purpose bent,

And moved by scientific sentiment,

My heart is anxious, Sir, from what I know

Of last years sufferings from cold and snow,

Another winter's hardships, will, I fear,

Cause us poor colonists to disappear.

What shall we do, Dear Sir?--how shall we live,

Unless our charitable townsmen give

Us aid in food and shelter, otherwise

Each of us young and old, and male and female, dies!

Could we not make our _friend_ our _Garnishee_,

And seize his chattels by a _tiers saisi_?

(I tell him, Sir, that living mid the frosts

Is harder far than paying _lawyers' costs_)

Or do you think, (I write in great anxiety,)

We have a claim on the St. George Society?

We are compatriots--an exiled band,

From the fair pickings of our native land,

Cast on this frigid shore by savage Fate,

With mouths to fill, and bills to liquidate.

Dear Sir, I leave our case now with you, pray

To make it public do not long delay,

But give it, (I don't mean to be ironical,)

A prominent position in the CHRONICLE.

My wife and children cry to me for corn

With feeble earnestness and chirp forlorn,

My eye is dim, my heart within me pines,

My claws so numb I scarce can scratch two lines,

My head--no more will I your feelings harrow,

But sign me,

Truly yours,

Till death,

All Souls' Day. COCKSPARROW.

_CLAREMONT._

THE SEAT OF THOMAS BECKETT, ESQUIRE.

"A house amid the quiet country's shades,

With length'ning vistas, ever sunny glades,

Beauty and fragrance clustering o'er the wall.

A porch inviting, and an ample hall."

Claremont was founded by Lieut.-Governor R. E. Caron, and was his family

mansion--ever since he left Spencer Grange which he had temporally

leased,--until he was named Lt.-Governor of the Province of Quebec. We

find in it, combined the taste and comfort which presides in Canadian

homes; and in the fortunes of its founder, an illustration of the fact,

that under the sway of Britain, the road to the highest honours has ever

been open to colonists, irrespective of creed or nationality.

Claremont stands about one acre from the main road, three miles from

Quebec, a handsome, comfortable and substantial villa. The umbrageous

grove of trees which encloses it from view, is a plantation laid down by

the late occupant about twenty-five years ago; its growth has been truly

wonderful. The view from the veranda and rear of the house is magnificent

in the extreme. To the west of the dwelling, environed in forest trees

well protected against our northern "blizzards," lies the fruit, flower

and vegetable garden, laid out originally by Madame Caron; watered by an

unfailing spring, its dark rich soil produces most luxuriant vegetables,

and Mr. Beckett's phlox, lilies, pansies, roses, generally stand well

represented on the prize list of the Quebec Horticultural Society, of

which Mr. Beckett is a most active member.

Claremont [242] is indicated by one of the most reliable of our

historians, the Abbé Ferland, as the spot where one of the first Sillery

missionaries, Frère Liégeois met with his end at the hands of some hostile

Indians. This occurred in the spring of 1655. The missionary at the time

was helping the colonists to build a small redoubt to protect their maize

and wheat fields from the inroads of their enemies. On viewing, at

Sillery, in 1881, Claremont the luxurious country seat of a successful

merchant, memory reverts to the same locality two centuries back, when

every tree of the locality might have concealed a ferocious _Iroquois_

bent on his errand of death.

From the cupola of Claremont, a wondrous vista is revealed. The eye gazing

northward, rests on the nodding pinnacles of the spruce, hemlock and

surrounding pine. Towards the south-east and west you have before you

nearly every object calculated to add effect to the landscape. Far below

at your feet, rushes on the mighty St. Lawrence, with its fleet of

merchantmen and rafts of timber; the church of St. Romuald, half way up

the hill; facing you, the Etchemin stream, its mills, its piers, crowded

with deals; to the west, the roaring Chaudière, "La Rivière Bruyante" of

early times, in the remote distance, on a bright morning, are also plainly

visible, the hills of the White Mountains of Maine.

_THE WILD FLOWERS OF SILLERY._

"Everywhere about us are they glowing,

Some like stars, to tell us spring is born;

Others, their blue eyes, with tears o'erflowing,

Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn."

Are you an admirer of nature, and sweet flowers? Would you, most worthy

friend, like to see some of the bright gems which spring, whilst dallying

over the sequestered, airy heights and swampy marshes of our woods drops

along our path? Follow, then, sketch book and pencil in hand, the fairy

footsteps of one of the most amiable women which old England ever sent to

our climes, accompany the Countess of Dalhousie on a botanizing tour

through Sillery woods; you have her note book, if not herself, to go by.

For May, see what an ample store of bright flowers scattered around you;

fear not to lose yourself in thickets and underbrush; far from the beaten

track a noble lady has ransacked the environs over and over again,

sometimes alone, sometimes with an equally enthusiastic and intelligent

friend, who hailed from Woodfield; [243] sweet flowers and beautiful ferns

attract other noble ladies to this day in that wood. Are you anxious to

possess the first-born of spring? Whilst virgin snow still whitens the

fields, send a young friend to pluck for you, from the willow, its golden

catkins:--

"The first gilt thing

Decked with the earliest pearls of spring."

The Gomin Wood will, with the dawn of May, afford you materials for a

wreath, rich in perfume and wild in beauty. The quantity of wild flowers,

to be found in the environs of Quebec has called forth the following

remarks from one of Flora's most fervid votaries, a gentleman well known

in this locality:--"A stranger," says he, "landing in this country, is

much surprised to find the flowers which he has carefully cultivated in

his garden at home, growing wild at his feet. Such as dog-tooth violets,

trilliums and columbines. I was much excited when I discovered them for

the first time; the _trillium_, for which I had paid three shillings

and six-pence when in England, positively growing wild. I could scarcely

believe that I had a right to gather them; having paid so much for one, I

felt that it was property, valuable property running wild, and no one

caring to gather it. No one? Yes! some did, for _we_ carried all that

we could find, and if the reader will stroll along the hedges on St. Lewis

road he will find them in abundance: dark purple flowers, growing on a

stalk naked to near the summit, where there is a whorl of three leaves,

its sepals are three, petals three, stamens twice three, and its stigmas

three, hence its name of _trillium_. We have a few of the white varieties.

After the purple _trillium_ has done flowering, we have the painted

trillium of the woods; the _trillium grandiflorum_ is abundant at Grosse

Isle. The dog-tooth violet early arrested my attention; the spotted leaves

and the bright yellow flowers, fully recurved in the bright sunshine,

contrasted beautifully with the fresh green grass on the banks on which

they are usually found, the bulbs are deep-seated, and the plant will at

once, from the general appearance of the flower, be recognized as

belonging to the lily family.

"The marsh marigolds, with the bright yellow buttercup-looking flowers,

are now in full luxuriance of bloom in wet places near running water; they

may not be esteemed beautiful by all, and yet all God's works, and all his

flowers, are good and beautiful. Let any one see them as I have seen them,

a large flowerbed of an acre and more, one mass of the brightest yellow, a

crystal stream meandering through their midst, the beautiful Falls of

Montmorenci across the river rolling their deep strains of Nature's music,

the rising tide of the St. Lawrence beating with refreshing waves at their

feet, and a cloudless azure sky over head, from which the rosy tints of

early morn had hardly disappeared, and if his soul be not ready to

overflow with gratitude to the Supreme Being who has made everything so

beautiful and good, I do not know what to think of him. I would not be

such a man, 'I'd rather be a dog and bay the moon.'"

The whole Gomin bog is studded with Smilacina _Bifolia_, sometimes

erroneously called _the white lily of the valley_, also the Smilacina

_Trifolia_, the _Dentaria_, the _Streptopus roseus_ or twisted stem, a

rose-colored flower, bearing red berries in the fall. There are also in

this wood, _trillium_, the May flower, _Hepatica_, and _Symplocarpus_,

thickets crowned with _Rhodoras_ in full bloom--a bush a few feet high

with superb rose-colored flowers--the general appearance of a cluster of

bushes is most magnificent. In the same locality, further in the swamp,

may be found the _Kalmia angustifolia_ bearing very pretty compact rose-

colored flowers like small cups divided into five lobes, also the

beautiful Ladies' Slipper Orchis (_Cypripedum humile_) in thousands on the

borders of the swamp,--such is Sillery wood in May. The crowded flora of

June is the very carnival of nature, in our climes. "Our Parish" is no

exception. The Ladies' Slippers, _Kalmia Smilacina_, etc., may still

be gathered in the greatest abundance throughout most of this month. Here

is also the bunch of Pigeon berry, in full bloom, the Brooklime Spedwell,

the Blue-eyed-grass, the herb Bennet, the Labrador Tea, the _Oxalis

Stricta_ and _Oxalis acetosella_, one with yellow, the other with

white and purple flowers: the first grows in ploughed fields, the second

in the woods. "Our sensitive plant; they shut up their leaves and go to

sleep at night, and on the approach of rain. These plants are used in

Europe to give an acid flavor to soup." Here also flourishes the Linnea

Borealis, roseate bells, hanging like twins from one stalk, downy and

aromatic all round. In the middle of June, the Ragwort, a composite flower

with yellow heads, and about one-half to two feet high, abounds in wet

places by the side of running streams. Also, the Anemone, so famous in

English song, principally represented by the Anemone Pennsylvanica,

growing on wet banks, bearing large white flowers; add the Corydalis,

_Smilacina racemosa_ resembling Solomon's Seal. Here we light on a lovely

Tulip bed; no--'tis that strangely beautiful flower, the pitcher plant

(_Saracenia Purpurea_). Next we hit on a flower not to be forgotten, the

_Myosotis palustris_ or Forget-me-not. Cast a glance as you hurry onwards

on the _Oenothera pumila_, a kind of evening primrose, on the false

Hellebore--the one-sided Pyrola, the Bladder Campion--_silene inflata_,

the sweet-scented yellow Mellilot, the white Yarran, the Prunella with

blue labrate flowers the Yellow Rattle, so called from the rattling of the

seeds. The perforated St. John's Wort is now coming into flower

everywhere, and will continue until late in August; it is an upright

plant, from one to two feet high, with clusters of yellow flowers. The

Germans have a custom for maidens to gather this herb on the eve of St.

John, and from its withering or retaining its freshness to draw an augury

of death or marriage in the coming year. This is well told in the

following lines:--

"The young maid stole through the cottage door,

And blushed as she sought the plant of power;

Then silver glow-worm, O lend me thy light,

I must gather the mystic St. John's Wort to-night,

The wonderful herb whose leaf must decide

If the coming year shall make me a bride.

And the glow-worm came

With its silvery flame,

And sparkled and shone

Through the night of St. John;

While it shone on the plant as it bloomed in its pride,

And soon has the young maid her love-knot tied.

With noiseless tread

To her chamber she sped,

Where the spectral moon her white beams shed.

"Bloom here, bloom here, thou plant of power,

To deck the young bride in her bridal hour;

But it dropped its head, the plant of power,

And died the mute death of the voiceless flower

And a withered wreath on the ground it lay,

And when a year had passed away,

All pale on her bier the young maid lay;

And the glow-worm came,

With its silvery flame,

And sparkled and shone

Through the night of St. John;

And they closed the cold grave o'er the maid's cold clay,

On the day that was meant for her bridal day."

Let us see what flowers sultry July has in store for us in her bountiful

cornucopia. "In July," says a fervent lover of nature, "bogs and swamps

are glorious indeed," so look out for Calopogons, Pogonias, rose-colored

and white and purple-fringed Orchises, Ferns, some thirty varieties, of

exquisite texture,

"In the cool and quiet nooks,

By the side of running brooks;

In the forest's green retreat,

With the branches overhead,

Nestling at the old trees' feet,

Choose we there our mossy bed.

On tall cliffs that won the breeze,

Where no human footstep presses,

And no eye our beauty sees,

There we wave our maiden tresses,"

the Willow-herb, the true Partridge-berry, the Chimaphila, Yellow Lily,

Mullein, Ghost Flower, Indian Pipe, Lysimacha Stricta, Wild Chamomile.

August will bring forth a variety of other plants, amongst others the

Spirantes, or Ladies' Tresses, a very sweet-scented Orchis, with white

flowers placed as a spiral round the flower stalk, the purple Eupatorium,

the Snake's head, and crowds of most beautiful wild flowers, too numerous

to be named here. [244] (From _Maple Leaves_, 1865).

_BEAUVOIR._

"The merchant has his snug retreat in the vicinity of the metropolis,

where he often displays as much pride and zeal in the cultivation of

his flower garden, and the maturing of his fruits, as he does in the

conduct of his business, and the success of a commercial enterprise."

--_Rural Life in England--Washington Irving_.

Situated on the left bank of the River St. Lawrence, about four miles from

the city, on the Sillery heights, and overlooking the river. The site was

selected about half a century back by the late Hon. A. N. Cochrane, who

acquired the property in September, 1830, and after holding it for

nineteen years sold it to the Hon. John Stewart, who built the residence,

which was occupied for a number of years by the late Henry LeMesurier,

Esq., and was finally destroyed by fire in 1866. It was subsequently

rebuilt, and afterwards purchased by the present occupant R. R. Dobell,

Esq., who has since added considerably to the building and extended the

property by the addition of about twelve acres purchased from the Graddon

estate, and about the same quantity purchased from Mr. McHugh, the whole

now comprising about thirty-five acres. The grounds are beautifully wooded

and descend by a series of natural terraces to the river, on the banks of

which are the extensive timber coves and wharves known as Sillery Cove,

with the workmen's cottages, offices, &c., fringing the side. There is

also telegraphic communication between this cove and the city. Here too is

the site of the ancient church of the Récollet Fathers, within the

precincts of which lie buried the remains of Rev. Ed. Massé, one of the

earliest missionaries sent from France to Canada by the Jesuits, the

expense of the mission was chiefly borne by the Chevalier Brulart de

Sillery. Here also is the old MANSION HOUSE, and a little higher up the

cliff is the ancient burial ground of the Huron Indians, where the remains

of many of this tribe can still be found. The property is bounded on the

west by the historical stream of St. Michaels brook, so often mentioned in

the narratives of the siege of Quebec in 1759. This stream used to be well

stocked with trout, and promises to regain its former character in this

respect, as the present proprietor intends to re-stock it.

Mr. Dobell has collected here some very fine specimens of Canadian Game,

which the art of the taxidermist has rendered very life-like. His oil

paintings are deserving of notice and attracted attention at a recent

exhibition of art, &c., at the Morrin College, they appear in the printed

catalogue as follows:--

A Scene in Wales, (Morning).............. by Marcham.

A Scene in Wales, (Evening).............. "

Reading the Bible, ...................... "

Our Saviour,--an old painting on copper..

Dead Canary,............................. S. M. Martin.

Fox and Ducks,........................... "

Prairie Hen,............................. "

View of Quebec,.......................... Creswell.

Egyptian Interior,....................... Kornan.

Dead Game,............................... "

Two Oil Paintings,....................... after Guido Reni.

Girl and Birdcage,--a Dutch painting.....

Prisoners,............................... by Jacobi.

Flower Piece,............................ Victor

Pandora and Casket,--old painting........

The chief charm of Beauvoir is in its beautiful level lawn and deep

overhanging woods, recalling vividly to mind the many beautiful homes of

merry England. Mr. Dobell the proprietor is largely engaged in mercantile

operations, and for many years past has carried on the most extensive

business in the lumber trade.

In 1865 we alluded as follows to this bright Canadian Home, which the

shadow of death was soon to darken:

"Crowning a sloping lawn, intersected by a small stream, and facing the

Etchemin Mills, you notice on the south side of the St. Lewis road, next

to Clermont, a neat dwelling hid amongst huge pines and other forest

trees; that is one of our oldest English country seats. Family memories of

three generations consecrate the spot. Would you like a glimpse of

domestic life as enjoyed at Sillery? then follow that bevy of noisy, rosy-

cheeked boys in Lennoxville caps, with gun and rod in hand, hurrying down

those steep, narrow steps leading from the bank to the Cove below. How

they scamper along, eager to walk the deck of that trim little craft, the

_Falcon_, anchored in the stream, and sitting like a bird on the bosom of

the famed river. Wait a minute and you will see the mainsail flutter in

the breeze. Now our rollicking young friends have marched past ruins of

"chapel, convent, hospital," &c., on the beach; you surely did not expect

them to look glum and melancholy. Of course they knew all about "Monsieur

Puiseaux," "le Chevalier de Sillery," "the house where dwelt Emily

Montague"; but do not, if you have any respect for that thrice happy age,

the halcyon days of jackets and frills, befog their brains with the musty

records of departed years. Let the lads enjoy their summer vacation,

radiant, happy, heedless of the future. Alas! it may yet overtake them

soon enough! What care could contract their brow? Have they not fed for

the day their rabbits, their pigeons, their guinea-pigs? Is not that

faithful Newfoundland dog "Boatswain," who saved from drowning one of

their school-mates, is he not as usual their companion on ship-board or

ashore? There, now, they drop down the stream for a long day's cruise

round the Island of Orleans. Next week, peradventure, you may hear of the

_Falcon_ and its jolly crew having sailed for Portneuf, Murray Bay, the

Saguenay or Bersimis, to throw a cast for salmon, sea-trout or mackerel,

in some sequestered pool or sheltered bay.

"There we'll drop our lines, and gather

Old Ocean's treasures in."

Are they not glorious, handsome, manly fellows, our Sillery boys? No

wonder we are all proud of them, of the twins as much as the rest, and

more so perhaps. "Our Parish" you must know, is renowned for the

proportion in which it contributes to the census: twins--a common

occurrence; occasionally, triplets.

Such we knew this Canadian home in the days of the late Henry Lemesurier.

_MONTAGUE COTTAGE._

"I knew by the smoke which so gracefully curled,

Above the green wood that a cottage was near."

--_Moore's Woodpecker._

Facing Sillery hill, on the north side of "Sans Bruit," formerly the

estate of Lieut.-Col. the Hon. Henry Caldwell, Mr. Alfred P. Wheeler,

[245] the Tide Surveyor of H. M. Customs, Quebec, built in 1880, a

comfortable and pleasing little cottage. He has called it Montague Cottage

[246] in memory of Wolfe's brave assistant Quarter Master General Col.

Caldwell, of Sans Bruit, the Col. Rivers of "The Novel and the preferred

suitor of Emily Montague who addressed her romantic 'Sillery letters to

Col. Rivers from a house not far from the Hill of Sillery.

It is stated in all the old Quebec Guide Books that the house in which the

'divine Emily then dwelt stood on the foot of Sillery Hill, close to Mrs.

Graddon's property at Kilmarnock, her friend Bella Fermor probably lived

near her. Vol. I of the Work, page 61, states; "I am at present at an

extremely pretty farm on the banks of the River St. Lawrence, the house

stands as the foot of a steep mountain covered with a variety of trees

forming a verdant sloping wall, which rises in a kind of regular

confusion, shade above shade a woody theatre, and has in front this noble

river, on which ships continually passing present to the delighted eye the

most charming picture imaginable. I never saw a place so formed to inspire

that pleasing lassitude, that divine inclination to saunter, which may not

improperly be called the luxurious indolence of the country. I intend to

build a temple here to the charming goddess of laziness. A gentleman is

coming down the winding path on the side of the hill, whom by his air I

take to be your brother. Adieu. I must receive him, my father is in

Quebec. Yours,

ARABELLA FERMOR.

_THE HISTORY OF EMILY MONTAGUE._

On the 22nd March 1769, a novelist of some standing Mrs. Frances

Brooks an officer's lady, [247] author of _Lady Julia Mandeville_

published in London a work in four volumes, which she dedicated to His

Excellency the Governor of Canada, Guy Carleton afterwards Lord

Dorchester, under the title of the _History of Emily Montague_ being a

series of letters addressed from Sillery by Emily Montague the heroine

of the tale, to her lively and witty friend Bella Fermor--to some

military admirers in Quebec, Montreal, and New York--to some British

noblemen, friends of her father.

This novel, whether it was through the writer's _entourage_ in

the world or her _entrée_ to fashionable circles, or whether on

account of its own intrinsic literary worth, had an immense success in

its day. The racy description it contains of Canadian scenery, and

colonial life, mixed with the fashionable gossip of our Belgravians of

1766, seven years after the conquest, caused several English families

to emigrate to Canada. Some settled in the neighborhood of Quebec, at

Sillery, it is said. Whether they found all things _couleur-de-

rose_, as the clever Mrs. Brooke had described them,--whether they

enjoyed as much Arcadian bliss as the Letters of _Emily Montague_

had promised--it would be very ungallant for us to gainsay, seeing

that Mrs. Brooke is not present to vindicate herself. As to the

literary merit of the novel, this much we will venture to assert, that

setting aside the charm of association, we doubt that _Emily

Montague_ if republished at present, would make the fortune of her

publisher. Novel writing, like other things, has considerably changed

since 1766, and however much the florid Richardson style may have

pleased the great grandfathers of the present generation, it would

scarcely chime in with the taste of readers in our sensational times.

In Mrs. Brooke's day Quebecers appear to have amused themselves pretty

much as they do now, a century later. In the summer, riding, driving

boating, pic-nics at Lake St. Charles, the Falls of Montmorenci, &c.

In winter tandems, sleigh drives, toboganing at the ice cone, tomycod

fishing on the St. Charles, Château balls; the formation of a

_pont_ or ice-bridge and its breaking up in the spring--two events of

paramount importance. The military, later on, the promoters of

conviviality, sport and social amusements; in return obtaining the

_entrée_ to the houses of the chief citizens; toying with every

English rosebud or Gallic-lily, which might strew their path in spite

of paternal and maternal admonitions from the other side of the

Atlantic; occasionally leading to the hymeneal altar a Canadian bride,

and next introducing her to their horror-stricken London relatives,

astounded to find out that our Canadian belles, were neither the

colour of copper, nor of ebony; in education and accomplishments,

their equals--sometimes their superiors when class is compared to

class. Would you like a few extracts from this curious old Sillery

novel? Bella Fermor, one of Emily Montague's familiars, and a most

ingrained _coquette_, thus writes from Sillery in favour of a

military protégé on the 16th September, 1766, to the "divine" Emily,

who had just been packed oft to Montreal to recover from a love fit.

"Sir George is handsome as an Adonis ... you allow him to be of an

amiable character; he is rich, young, well-born, and he loves you..."

All in vain thus to plead Sir. George's cause, a dashing Col. Rivers

(meant, we were told, by the Hon. W. Sheppard, to personify Col. Henry

Caldwell, of Belmont) had won the heart of Emily, who preferred true

love to a coronet. Let us treasure up a few more sentences fallen from

Emily's light-hearted confidante. A postscript to a letter runs thus--

"Adieu, Emily, I am going to ramble in the woods and pick berries with

a little smiling civil captain [we can just fancy we see some of our

fair acquaintances' mouths water at such a prospect], who is enamoured

of me. A pretty rural amusement for lovers." Decidedly; all this in

the romantic woodlands of Sillery, a sad place it must be confessed,

when even boarding school misses, were they to ramble thus, could

scarcely escape contracting the _scarlet_ fever. Here goes another

extract:--

(BELLA FERMOR TO MISS RIVERS. LONDON)

"Sillery, Sept. 20th, (1766)--10 o'clock.

"Ah! we are vastly to be pitied; no beaux at all at the general's,

only about six to one; a pretty proportion, and what I hope always to

see. We--the ladies I mean--drink chocolate with the general to-

morrow, and he gives us a ball on Thursday; you would not know Quebec

again. Nothing but smiling faces now: all gay as never was--the

sweetest country in the world. Never expect to see me in England

again; one is really somebody here. I have been asked to dance by only

twenty-seven. ..."

Ah! who would not forgive the frolicsome Bella all her flirtations?

But before we dismiss this pleasant record of other days, yet another

extract, and we have done.

(BELLA FERMOR TO LUCY RIVERS)

"Sillery--Eight in the evening.

"Absolutely, Lucy, I will marry a savage and turn squaw (a pretty soft

name for an Indian Princess!) Never was anything so delightful as

their lives. They talk of French husbands, but commend me to an Indian

one, who lets his wife ramble five hundred miles without asking where

she is going.

"I was sitting after dinner, with a book, in a thicket of hawthorn

near the beach, when a loud laugh called my attention to the river,

when I saw a canoe of savages making to the shore. There were six

women and two or three children, without one man amongst them. They

landed and tied the canoe to the root of a tree, and finding out the

most agreeable shady spot amongst the bushes with which the beach was

covered, (which happened to be very near me) made a fire, on which

they laid some fish to broil, and fetching water from the river, sat

down on the grass to their frugal repast. I stole softly to the house,

and ordering a servant to bring some wine and cold provisions,

returned to my squaws. I asked them in French if they were of Lorette,

they shook their heads--I repeated the question in English, when the

eldest of the women told me they were not, that their country was on

the borders of New England, that their husbands being on a hunting

party in the woods, curiosity and the desire to see their brethren,

the English, who had conquered Quebec, had brought them up the great

river, down which they should return as soon as they had seen

Montreal. She courteously asked me to sit down and eat with them,

which I complied with and produced my part of the feast. We soon

became good company, and brightened the chain of friendship with two

bottles of wine, which put them in such spirits that they danced,

sung, shook me by the hand, and grew so fond of me that I began to be

afraid I should not easily get rid of them.

"Adieu! my father is just come in and has brought some company with

him from Quebec to supper.

"Yours ever,

"A. FERMOR."

KIRK ELLA

"This villa, erected in 1850 on the north side of the St. Lewis road,

facing Cataracoui, affords a striking exemplification of how soon taste

and capital can transform a wilderness into a habitation combining every

appliance of modern refinement and rustic adornment. It covers about

eighty-two acres, two thirds of which are green meadows, wheat fields,

&c., the remainder, plantations, gardens and lawn. The cottage itself is a

plain, unpretending structure, made more roomy by the recent addition of a

dining room, &c., in rear. On emerging from the leafy avenue, the visitor

notices two _parterres_ of wild flowers--kalmias, trilliums, etc.,--

transplanted from the neighboring wood, with the rank, moist soil of the

Gomin marsh to derive nourishment from, they appear to thrive. In rear of

these _parterres_ a granite rockery, festooned with ferns, wild

violets, &c., raises its green gritty, rugged outline. This pretty

European embellishment we would much like to see more generally introduced

in our Canadian landscape; it is strikingly picturesque. The next object

which catches the eye is the conservatory in which are displayed the most

extensive collection of exotics in Sillery. In the centre of some fifty

large camellia shrubs there is a magnificent specimen of the fimbriata

variety--white leaves with a fringed border; it stands twelve feet high

with corresponding breadth. When it is loaded with blossoms in the winter

the spectacle is exquisitely beautiful. In the rear of the conservatory

are a vinery, a peach and apricot house; like the conservatory, all span-

roofed and divided off in several compartments, heated by steam-pipes and

furnaces, with stop-cocks to retard or accelerate vegetation at will. On

the 31st May, when we visited the establishment, we found the black

Hamburg grapes the size of cherries; the peaches and apricots

correspondingly advanced; the cherries under glass quite over. One of the

latest improvements is a second flower garden to the west of the house, in

the English landscape style. In rear of this garden to the north, there

existed formerly a cedar swamp, which deep subsoil draining with tiles has

converted into a grass meadow of great beauty; a belt of pine, spruce,

tamarack, and some deciduous trees, thinned towards the south-west, let in

a glimpse of the St. Lawrence and the high-wooded Point Levi shores,

shutting out the view of the St. Lewis road, and completely overshadowing

the porter's lodge; out-houses, stables, root-house, paddocks and barns

are all on a correspondingly extensive scale. We have here another

instance of the love of country life which our successful Canadian

merchant likes to indulge in; and we can fancy, judging from our own case,

with what zest Mr. Burstall the portly laird of Kirk Ella, after a

toilsome day in his St. Peter street counting-house, hurried home to revel

in the rustic beauty which surrounds his dwelling." Such was Kirk Ella in

1865.

Mr. Burstall having withdrawn from business, removed to England and died

there a few years back. Kirk Ella has now become the property of Charles

Ernest Levey, Esq., only son of the late Charles E. Levey, Esq., formerly

of Cataracoui. The dwelling having been destroyed by fire in 1879, the new

owner decided on erecting a handsome roomy mansion on the same site. The

visitor at Kirk Ella, after paying his devoirs to the youthful Chatelain

and Chatelaine, can admire at leisure Mr. Levey's numerous and expensive

stud: "Lollypop", "Bismark," "Joker," "Jovial," "Tichborne," "Burgundy,"

"Catch-him-alivo," a crowd of fleet steeds, racing and trotting stock,

surrounded by a yelping and frisky pack of "Peppers," "Mustards,"

"Carlos," "Guys," "Josephines," "Fidlers;" Mastiffs, French Poodles, Fox

Terriers, Bulldogs,--Kirk Ella is a perfect Elysium for that faithful

though noisy friend of man, the dog.

_CATARACOUI._

The conflagration of Spencer Wood, on the 12th March, 1860, made it

incumbent on the Provincial Government to provide for His Excellency Sir

Edmund Head a suitable residence. After examining several places,

Cataracoui, the residence of Henry Burstall, Esquire, opposite to Kirk

Ella was selected, and additions made, and still greater decorations and

improvements ordered when it became known that the First Gentleman in

England, our Sovereign's eldest son, was soon to pay a flying visit to Her

Majesty's Canadian lieges. Cataracoui can boast of having harbored two

princes of the blood royal, the prince of Wales, and his brother Alfred; a

circumstance which no doubt much enhanced its prestige in the eyes of its

owner. It was laid out about 1836 by Jas. B. Forsyth, Esq., the first

proprietor, and reflects credit on his taste.