_HALIFAX TO QUEBEC._
Home in Halifax--Start for the Pacific--The Intercolonial Railway--
Major Robinson--Old Companions--The Ashburton Blunder--Quebec--The
Provincial Legislature--Champlain--The Iroquois.
Arrived at my Halifax home, I made the few preparations necessary for
the journey before me. In the interval, I rambled through the Dingle
with my children and paddled over the north-western arm, a sheet of
water of much beauty. There is always unusual pleasure in such quiet
occupations, exacting neither labour, nor thought, nor any great strain
upon the attention. We float along or stroll idly, as it were following
the bent of our inclinations, now and then considering what lies before
us, or reverting in memory to that which once has happened. Then I
visited my old friends, who gave me the proverbial Halifax welcome. Two
vessels of the fleet were in port, the “Northampton” and the “Canada,”
the latter attracting some attention from the fact that Prince George,
the second son of the Prince of Wales, was on board, performing the
duties of a midshipman, as any other youngster in that position and as
efficiently. A new Commander of the Forces had arrived, Lord Alexander
Russell, formerly known in Canada as commanding one of the battalions
of the Rifle Brigade, and the conversation of the garrison was the
changes in discipline and general economy introduced, as is frequently
the case by new administrators. All my friends were well and in good
spirits. I had the additional pleasure of finding that the kindness of
former days was unimpaired, and my whole visit was one of pleasantness.
I was four days in Halifax, and on the ninth of August, I started
alone. Dr. Grant who accompanied me on my first trip to the Pacific
eleven years ago, had accepted the invitation to accompany me across
the Rocky Mountains, and it was arranged that he should join me in
Winnipeg. My second son was also to be of the party. He was to meet me
in Toronto.
My family went with me to the station. There was an unusual effort to
say good-bye in starting on this long journey, but that matter has no
interest here.
It is only on alternate nights that the Pullman car runs through from
Halifax to Montreal. On this occasion I had to leave Halifax by the
Pullman which went no further than Moncton Junction, and with the
other western passengers I had to wait there for the train to arrive
from St. John. We reached Moncton at two o’clock in the morning, an
hour not the most convenient for effecting the change. It is among
the minor miseries of travelling to be obliged to turn out at such an
hour for a coming train. But the fault was my own. Had I curtailed my
brief sojourn in Halifax a few hours, or had my arrangements admitted
of delay for another day, I would have had the advantage of a through
Pullman without the inconvenience of a break at this place. Moncton is
in New Brunswick, at the junction of the lines from Halifax and St.
John, whence a common course is followed to the St. Lawrence.
As I was sitting on the platform in the cool summer air before dawn,
I could not but recollect that the 10th of August was one of the red
letter days of my life. Thirty-one years back, on that day my railway
career in Canada commenced. I was appointed as an Assistant-engineer
on what was then known as the Ontario, Simcoe and Huron Railway,
afterwards developed into the Northern Railway of Canada, and of which
I remained chief engineer for a number of years. The Montreal and
Portland Railway was under construction. The Grand Trunk Railway had
just been commenced, and with the exception of some small lengths of
line, such as the Lachine, the La Prairie, and the Carillon Railways,
it may be said that, at that date, railways had no working existence in
Canada.
The station ground at Moncton was illuminated by an electric light;
to escape its piercing rays, I turned away to a seat which they
did not reach. As I was thus sitting apart, my recollection went
back over the last thirty-one years and to the many events which the
spot suggested. The night was dark, and, excepting in the immediate
neighbourhood, it seemed to be rendered darker by the light which
flickered and glared directly above me. I cannot say that the dazzling
“Brush” light is agreeable to me at any time, or on that occasion that
my tone of thought was affected by it; but in spite of myself my mind
ran over much of the past, and brought vividly before me many events
long forgotten. I remembered the frequent mention of Moncton by Major
Robinson in his well known report, and I felt how much I owed to his
labours and to those of his efficient assistant Captain, now Sir Edmund
Henderson. I thought of poor Major Pipon, who was drowned in one of
the streams while gallantly striving to save the life of an Indian
boy. Prominent among the actors I reverted to my friend Mr. Light,
who constructed the line from Moncton to St. John, whose labours were
continued on the Intercolonial Railway until its completion, and who is
still actively engaged in his profession. Naturally, in connection with
these memories, the whole staff of engineers who worked with me on the
Intercolonial Railway passed before me, from the first long snow-shoe
tramps through the forest and across the mountains in 1864 to the
completion of the line in 1876. Some are no more; those who remain are
scattered over this continent doing their work as manfully as they did
it here, wherever their field of duty.
So far as the Intercolonial Railway appears before the public to-day,
those engineers who were for years engaged in its construction are
as if they never existed. I was struck with the similitude between
the life of the engineer and of the soldier. There is much which is
identical in the two professions. In both, privations and hardships
are endured. In both, self-sacrifice is called for. In both, special
qualities are demanded to gain desired results; and the possessors
of them for a time obtain prominence, to pass out of mind with the
necessity for their service, and to be forgotten and uncared for. It is
peculiarly during an hour of patient waiting in the advanced hours of
night that much of the past comes vividly before us. My mind reverted
to all the incidents connected with the history of this national
railway. I recalled many recollections of the Railway Commissioners
whom the Government appointed at that date, and I did my best to forget
many an unpleasantness. Differences of view were not unfrequent. They
seemed important enough at the time, but on looking back to them now,
how insignificant many of them appear. Those mistakes which permanently
affect the public interests are only to be deplored. The train had just
passed over the scene of one of the most glaring of these departures
from a wise policy. In order to serve purely local interests, the
railway was diverted many miles out of its true direction. The proper
location would have cost less; the line, when completed, would have
been better in an engineering point of view; the distance would
have been ten miles shorter. But the local interests, in themselves
insignificant, were sustained by political influence. Whatever
administration was in power, there was some one prominent politician to
advocate the location by the circuitous route. In this one point men on
opposite sides of the House could meet on common ground, and in spite
of all remonstrances[C] and regardless of the facts, their individual
interests prevailed.
Thus the country was saddled with an unnecessary expense of
construction of a needless increased length of line with its perpetual
maintenance, and every person, and every ton of goods, entering or
leaving Nova Scotia, has to pay a mileage charge of conveyance over
ten extra unnecessary miles: a tax on the travelling public and the
commerce of the country for ever! As I looked along the track into the
darkness, I remembered that some fifteen years had passed since the
troubles and unpleasantness of those days, and it came to my mind that
the prominent actors in the events are dead. I was struck with the
truth of our experience in the vanity of human wishes and the worse
than folly of sacrificing permanent public interests for matters of
passing moment.
The circumstances suggested another recollection of higher historical
importance and infinitely more consequence. Moncton itself,
geographically, is nearly due east of Montreal, but in order to reach
this point, the Intercolonial railway has to diverge northerly nearly
three degrees of latitude, through the narrow limit of territory
along the St. Lawrence. The extraordinary series of negotiations
which led to the establishment of the Maine boundary, is a chapter
in our history which the British nation equally with Canadians would
willingly forget. It is with pain and humiliation that we reflect on
the ignorance of the simplest facts of the case and of the deplorable
inattention to every national interest which marked the conduct of
the Imperial representative, Lord Ashburton, in the settlement of
that question. I had occasion, some years ago, carefully to examine
the whole subject, and I could never discover that the blame of
the discreditable settlement of the matter at issue is in any way
chargeable to the Washington Government, as many suppose, and as I
myself at one time had been taught to believe. The diplomacy of the
United States was perfectly straightforward throughout. Strange as it
may seem, the objectionable settlement, which leaves this painful blot
on the map of the Dominion, is due to the rejection of a proposition
which came from the Executive at Washington. Had the wise and just
proposal made and repeated by President Jackson been accepted, there
cannot be a doubt that the boundary would have been satisfactorily
established, in accordance with the true spirit of the treaty of 1783.
We would have been spared the bitter humiliation of the Ashburton
treaty; we would have saved ten millions of dollars in the first cost
of the Intercolonial railway, and Nova Scotia would have been, for all
practical purposes of trade and intercourse, two hundred miles nearer
the western provinces of the Dominion.
The yearly cost of maintaining and working this unnecessary length of
railway represents a large sum. The direct advantages of the shorter
line would have been incalculable. The transport of coal alone, at half
a cent per ton per mile, reckoned on 200 miles, would effect a saving
to the consumers in the Provinces of Quebec and Ontario of one dollar
per ton. Such a reduction in itself would have created great activity
in the mining industries of Nova Scotia, the coal fields of which are
inexhaustible, but which from their distance from market are subjected
to much unfavorable competition.
The train arrives in due time; a sleeping berth had been secured by
telegraph, and I proceed onwards. The following evening, the train
reaches the Chaudière Junction, opposite Quebec, having passed Rimouski
and Rivière du Loup in the afternoon. At the latter place, generally
so quiet and free from bustle, we saw an unusual number of people
assembled. It was the annual excursion of the Press Association, and
the members had been listening to an address from the Premier of the
Dominion.
There are three ways of reaching Montreal from Quebec. The traveller
may take the steamboat up the St. Lawrence, 180 miles. He may cross the
river and avail himself of the North Shore Railway, or he may remain on
the south side and proceed by the Grand Trunk Railway. It is now seven
in the evening and the train is about starting, so I continue on the
Grand Trunk route and have a second night to pass in the Pullman car.
In the morning at half-past six the train enters Montreal by the famed
Victoria Bridge.
To those who desire to pass a day at Quebec, the steamboat is a very
pleasurable mode of travelling. The steamers on the route are well
built. The accommodation is excellent, and they present a varied and
animated sight during the season from the number of passengers.
I have frequently visited Quebec, and I have passed many days among its
many pleasant associations. On this occasion, it was a mere point in my
travels. Those who visit Canada for the first time, will certainly not
hurry past this famous city as I was then doing.
Quebec will always be remarkable for its historical associations and
for the exquisite beauty of its scenery. The traveller, however far he
may have rambled, can not fail to recognize that the view from Durham
Terrace is one of the finest he has ever seen. Some contend that it
is unsurpassed. On one side is the citadel in all its strength and
grandeur. On the opposite bank of the river, Point Levis stands forth
with its coves and buildings and scenes of stirring life. Immediately
below us the majestic river itself flows in a great, placid stream
on its way to the ocean. To the north, rise the bold heights of the
Laurentian range, bearing evidences of life from their base far up on
the hill side. The whole scene furnishes a panorama rarely to be met.
In Quebec one feels that he is on a spot where every foot of space was
once of value, from the necessity of protecting the whole by works of
defence. We are taken back to the European life of insecurity of two
centuries ago, when every town was so protected, and yet was often
ravaged and despoiled. Quebec is the one memorial of that condition of
things on this continent. The city itself is built on an eminence which
admits of much variety of landscape. It is a spot of great attraction
which everybody visits with pleasure. The society has long been known
by the genial and kindly character of its hospitality. Although its
commerce is not relatively what it was in former years, it is still a
centre of much activity and possesses great wealth. The commencement of
a railway to the settlement at Lake St. John, to the north, entirely
by Quebec capital, is a proof that the spirit of enterprise yet remains.
The city is the seat of Provincial Government. During the sitting of
its Legislature it is much frequented by men busy in political life.
In summer the hotels are invariably full of tourists, chiefly from the
United States, hundreds often arriving daily to go over the ground of
its historic associations, to enjoy the beauty of the landscape, and
to observe what remains of the life of a past, of which in their own
country they are without a parallel. Much of the history of Canada
centres around Quebec. Many illustrious names are associated with the
ancient city. The most distinguished is its founder, Samuel Champlain.
Champlain’s career in Canada dates from 1608 to 1635. He founded
Quebec. He ascended the Richelieu and discovered Lake Champlain, which
bears his name. He ascended from Ticonderoga to Lake George, and
penetrated the valleys of the Hudson and the Mohawk. He ascended the
Ottawa, passed over the height of land, and by Lake Nipissing reached
Georgian Bay. He travelled the country overland from Lake Simcoe to
the Trent, and by the Bay of Quinté crossed the waters of Lake Ontario
to what is now the State of New York, and penetrated to one of the
lakes, believed to be Lake Canandaigua. He was the first to make a map
of Canada, and he published his memoirs and his travels. He, and he
only, is the founder of Canada. What he effected was wonderful. Few
men have been marked by such singular honesty of character. Few men
have possessed so well directed a spirit of adventure, controlled by an
unusually active and penetrating mind. His fortitude, his endurance,
his courage, his perseverance, his personal honour make him one of the
great characters of history.
Midway between Quebec and Montreal the City of Three Rivers is
situated. This place was early settled, a fort having been constructed
here in 1634. Its geographical position called for this protection. It
is at the foot of the St. Maurice, whose sources lie far to the north,
and west of Lake St. Peter, which in those days might be called an
Iroquois lake, from the frequent incursions of the Indians, who were
merciless in their warfare. For forty years the early French Canadian
settler never knew if he would be able to reap the harvest of the seed
he had sown. Indeed, it is not an exaggeration to say that it was
doubtful, when he left his home for his day’s labour, if he would not
be before night a scalped corpse. It was not until 1686 that Tracy
passed by the Richelieu and read the Iroquois a lesson by which peace
was obtained. Three Rivers was at an early day a settlement of some
importance. It even obtained a preference over Quebec, but the better
situation of Montreal eventually diverted the trade to that city. It
has long been a pleasant enough place, but, as the saying goes, one
through which everybody passes and where nobody stops.