the year 1759 it was apparent that Quebec was once more to be attacked.
Before the year was half over, a British fleet bearing 18,000 men
dropped anchor near the eastern end of the Isle of Orleans. Troops were
landed to the east of Montmorency River, and batteries were erected
there and at Point Lévis opposite Quebec. A bombardment lasting two
months soon followed. The ensuing land struggle, known as the battle of
Montmorency, brought face to face the two great leaders, Montcalm and
Wolfe, upon whom France and Britain respectively depended in the contest
for supremacy on the North American continent.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Wolfe was studying his plan of attack, and making feints in several
directions to confuse the enemy. Finally on the last day of July the
British troops forded the Montmorency River, and with the guns of the
fleet shelling the enemy’s trenches the attacking force made a
concentrated rush on the western bank to carry the position by assault.
The French were well placed, and the plan of defense was excellent. The
lines had previously been strengthened at every favorable attacking
point by the able general Montcalm, and he had a picked reserve at hand
ready to hurl it in whatever direction it should be most needed.
The British lost heavily, and Wolfe abandoned the attack in that
direction and recalled his troops across the river.
This trial of strength was the prelude to more serious work. Wolfe,
weakened by illness—and against the counsels of his officers who were
almost unanimous that the siege should be abandoned—persisted in his
determination to reduce Quebec. More than a month passed by before new
plans were perfected, but at last towards the middle of September a new
assault was commenced.
Soon after midnight the boats of the British stole quietly along the
Sillery shore under cover of the darkness. In the foremost boat was a
Highland officer who spoke the French language. “Qui Vive!” rang out the
challenge, as a sentry detected the shadowy boat making inshore. Fortune
surely favored the British, for the Scotchman had no difficulty in
passing himself off as a French officer in charge of a detachment
bringing expected supplies for Quebec. Some of the boats had drifted
further east beyond the inlet now known as Wolfe’s Cove. Here what had
always been regarded as an impossible ascent was found practicable by
the sturdy mountain-climbing Highlanders. Swarming up the unprotected
height they immediately overmastered the scattered sentries, captured in
his tent the sleeping officer in charge, and sent back word to General
Wolfe that the ground was clear. The troops were disembarked at once,
and the dawn of day revealed the British lines on the Plains of Abraham,
their right wing extending to the heights and their left on the St. Foye
Road.
Montcalm was not aware of the momentous occurrence until the heights had
been occupied in force. His troops were at Beauport, some miles away,
and before they could be brought up to resist the advance of the
invading force the morning was well in progress. As soon as it was known
that the British were making entrenchments, the French general decided
upon an immediate attack to prevent them from strengthening their
position.
[Illustration]
Soon after ten o’clock on the bright September morning, Montcalm
advanced impetuously to the charge. Down the ravine the French rushed,
the formation of the ground causing some confusion. They stopped to
re-form within a few hundred yards of the advancing British, but ere
they could climb the hill a frightful volley, hitherto held in reserve,
now wrapped the advancing host in a death-flame that caused terrible
havoc. Montcalm was in the forefront, heroically urging forward his
wavering troops; while Wolfe on the right of the British advance was in
the thick of the deadly fray.
A bullet struck the British general on the wrist. It was hastily bound
with a handkerchief. At the head of the Louisbourg grenadiers he pressed
eagerly forward, when he was struck a second time and dangerously
wounded. His bright uniform made him a mark for every sharpshooter. And
now a bullet entered his breast. He staggered. Alas! the wound was
mortal. “Support me,” he hastily cried, “my brave men must not see me
fall.” He was carried to one side and laid on the grass. “A surgeon!”
cried a grenadier officer. “It is useless,” faintly uttered the gallant
Wolfe, “I am done for.” He was gradually lapsing into unconsciousness.
[Illustration]
“They fly,” came eager comments from the sad group surrounding the dying
general. “Who?” quickly uttered Wolfe, arousing himself by one last,
painful effort. “The enemy!” came the glad reply, “they are yielding in
every direction.” Wolfe immediately gave the important order to speed to
the St. Charles River, capture the bridge and thus cut off the enemy’s
retreat. He turned on his side, and, as he murmured, “the Lord be
praised, I die in peace!” his dauntless spirit took its wing, leaving
the dead hero a victor, and the founder of an empire that great then,
and greater now, is yet only in the infancy of its splendid course.
The ‘Great Commoner’ of England, William Pitt, has well said: “The
horror of the night, the precipice scaled by Wolfe, the empire he with a
handful of men added to England, and the glorious catastrophe of
contentedly terminating his life where his fame began ........Ancient
story may be ransacked, and ostentatious philosophy thrown into the
account, before an episode can be found to rank with Wolfe’s.”
On the French side the gallant Montcalm in vain tried to rally his
retreating forces. The path of defeat led him towards the gate of
Saint-Louis, but ere he could enter he was twice wounded. He was
assisted inside, but his injury was soon seen to be mortal. To those
around him weeping the brave Montcalm spoke: “It is nothing, kind
friends; pray do not weep over me.” When told by the attending surgeon
that he had only a few hours to live, he replied, “I am glad of it, I
shall not see the surrender of Quebec.” Before morning his earthly
struggles were over.
Subsequent efforts to retake Quebec from the British failed, and ere
long it was seen that the ‘Battle of the Plains’ was final in its
results.
The monument to Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham is erected where the
great general breathed his last; while the joint memorial to Montcalm
and Wolfe, erected in the Governor’s Garden overlooking Dufferin
Terrace, fittingly marks the great struggle that has joined two races in
one empire of happy union and effort.
As the coming centuries go by, this battle will not only rank equal to
that of Waterloo in importance—it will far surpass it on account of the
momentous bearing it will have on the future of the British Empire and
the progress of the world’s true civilization.
[Illustration]
Time passed on, and in the troublous days of the American War of
Independence the much-tried city of Quebec was destined to besiegement
for the fifth time in its history. This time the attack came from New
England; a daring one it must be admitted, for the whole of the
invader’s forces were brought over the Kennebec and Chaudière Rivers in
the face of many obstacles. Arnold and Montgomery, after a siege of two
months, planned to capture the citadel by a bold, surprise attack.
[Illustration: Sous le Fort Street, Quebec]
The defense, however, was an alert one, and when Montgomery advanced
with his force—as he thought, unawares—and was almost within the walls,
a frightful volley was fired in their very faces. This discharge killed
the revolutionary general and many of his followers. The others fled.
Nor was Arnold more successful, although he escaped with his life; a
life that if there ended, like Montgomery’s, would have terminated more
gloriously for the able but misguided American than did his after years.
Many prisoners were taken, the remainder escaped and returned to New
England, and the siege was raised.
Since then no alarm of War has been heard in Old Quebec; and although
the War of 1812 brought suffering to many parts of Canada, none of the
various struggles came nearer than Montreal.
The foregoing outline is intended to provide some knowledge of historic
events as an aid to the appreciation of scenes, incidents and sketches
in connection with people and places that have been prominent in bygone
years. All such details now follow in the description of those parts of
the country to which they properly belong.
One of the first things to claim the visitor’s attention will surely be
the fortifications of the city. Because these are unique and peculiar to
Quebec, not being found elsewhere on the American continent, they
command the greater interest. Leaving out of consideration their many
picturesque features, the fact that they represent in all the glory of
almost perfect preservation a system of defense that is centuries old,
and that here—one of the few such places in the world—we may tread on
the undisturbed spot and in the very streets and houses where great,
stirring events have taken place, gives a never-failing and absorbing
interest to the outer walls and inner places of Old Quebec.
The advent of heavy ordnance on disappearing carriages, or in
wrought-iron turrets, the strength given to concealed batteries through
the use of smokeless gunpowder, the improvement of harbor defense by the
use of mines, torpedoes, submarine boats and electric light, and the
imminent use of aerial explosives; all these have united to sound the
knell of the old style of fortification. The day of the hand-to-hand
conflict has almost gone by, and probably we may never again read of
assault and repulse at outer walls, never hear of the carrying of outer
defenses, of the desperate struggle from one inner defense to the other,
or of the last glorious stand around the colors on the bastion or keep.
No! for man fights now more with brain and eye than with hand. Science
and invention in future will destroy or annihilate the strongest
defenses, and whole armies will walk out and surrender without a blow.
This was so at Metz.
[Illustration]
If the old days and ideas are gone, and the picturesque defenses of
moat, rampart, bastion, keep and inner stronghold will never again be
constructed, how important it is that we should admire and enjoy to the
full their splendid survival in Quebec, before the lapse of time and the
inevitable encroachments of modern city life shall destroy these dearly
beloved monuments of the past.
The Citadel, Fortification Walls and Gates of Quebec now invite
examination. Starting from the convenient point where stands Champlain’s
monument, near the Château Frontenac, do not forget that a fort was
first constructed by Champlain on the very spot where the monument now
stands; and that Montmagny replaced the wooden walls of his predecessor
with substantial stone work. Frontenac extended the defensive lines
considerably, and added forts and bastions. Later the fortifications
were again extended and solidified under a comprehensive plan drawn up
by the great Vauban.
Damaged by sieges, and imperfectly repaired from time to time, the
important stronghold was often neglected; but at the end of the
eighteenth century the present works were finished by the English. The
plans were approved by the ‘Iron Duke’ himself, and the construction
cost an enormous sum. The solid stone facings, the batteries behind the
glacis, the loopholed walls that seem strong enough to defy everything
but dynamite, the ditches, gateways, underground passages, magazines,
etc.; and all the accessories of a great defensive system are present.
Even during their first construction by the French so much money had
been required that Louis XIV. once asked if the fortifications of Quebec
were made of gold.
The citadel covers about forty acres, and access to it is gained by the
solid Dalhousie Gate. There is also a great chain gate. The soldiers’
quarters are well protected against gun-fire, and the more important
buildings are bomb-proof. The view from the King’s Bastion is one of the
most beautiful it is possible to imagine. The Royal Canadian Garrison
Artillery have their quarters in the barracks within the citadel. They
muster a strength of from three to four hundred men.
By means of the halyards of the flagstaff on the King’s Bastion, from
which floats the ‘Union Jack,’ two American prisoners once escaped after
they had succeeded in drugging the sentry. The height above the river is
350 feet, and a look over the bastion at the drop below will show the
daring nature of the venture.
Great guns command all the landward approaches. The waterway can also be
swept by powerful cannon, while on the Lévis side of the river are
strong batteries that dominate the river and both shores.
The Governor-General’s residence is on the Citadel Square, and not far
away is the interesting Artillery Museum.
That portion of the defenses known as Grand Battery is at the eastern
end of Dufferin Terrace, on the edge of the cliff that runs from the top
of Mountain Hill towards Palace Gate. Here a number of guns are disposed
in crescent form. In addition to this, and not counting those in the
citadel, the following batteries may be seen: Assembly, Half-Moon, Hope
Gate, Montcalm, Nunnery Nos. 1 and 2, Wolfe’s Grand Battery, and,
finally, two that are smaller and unnamed.
The ponderous old gates that gave security to those within the citadel
walls no longer exist. In French days there were three of these: St.
Louis, St. John and Palace. The two gates added by the British in later
days have also disappeared. These were known as Hope and Prescott Gates.
What a pity that, all five were not allowed to remain as they were! What
an irreparable loss!
Walking around the ramparts and beginning with the picturesque modern
gateway or arch that stands where stood the former gate whose name, St.
Louis, it bears, it will be well to remember that the old gate was
venerable with age. It was built in the year 1694. Through this outlet
sorties must frequently have been made against attacking Iroquois, and
through this gate the brave and dying Montcalm with many of his soldiers
passed into the city after the defeat on the Plains of Abraham. The
handsome arch with its graceful Norman spire, now known as the St. Louis
Gate, is mainly due to the keen interest that Lord Dufferin took in all
that related to the improvement of Quebec.
Proceeding north along the ramparts, Kent Gate is reached. No gate
existed here in olden days, and the cut in the fortifications was made
necessary by the desire for increased traffic facilities. The effect of
the structure is a pleasing one, and considerable interest attaches to
it because it is a memorial to Edward, Duke of Kent, father of Canada’s
well beloved Queen Victoria. Added interest will be found in the fact
that the Princess Louise participated in the perfection of the artistic
design.
[Illustration]
Just a short distance north is the site of the old St. John Gate. There
is now neither gate nor arch here, but the portal demolished was as old
as the St. Louis Gate. In Montcalm’s day the old gate swung open to
allow some of his defeated troops to pass in, and it was against this
gate that part of the American effort was directed in the futile attempt
of 1775.
There are no remains of the old gate on the busy Palais thoroughfare
that leads from St. John Street, down towards the River St. Charles, nor
has any memorial tower been erected yet to mark the site. The street
took its name from the palace or residence of the French intendants, and
the ruins of that building may still be seen at the foot of the hill.
The old Palais Gate had many memories attached to it, and it withstood
frequent attacks from besieging foes.
The comparatively modern gates of convenience, Hope and Prescott, have
both been demolished in the demand for unobstructed streets, but it is
proposed to some day mark their sites by suitable memorials. Hope Gate
was on the north side, while the Prescott Gate commanded the steep
Mountain Hill on the eastern water front.
Champlain’s ‘Abitation’ was near the foot of Mountain Hill, but right
out on the water. The place where he landed in 1608, and from which the
founding of Quebec dates, was about two hundred yards to the south-west,
where King’s Wharf now is. Champlain’s Old Fort, stood on the very spot
where now stands the fine monument to his memory as founder of Quebec.
Close by, on the site now occupied by that magnificent hostelry, the
Château Frontenac, once stood the Château St. Louis, in which Champlain,
Frontenac and Carleton successively lived. The cellar of the former
building still remains under the terrace platform. The Old Fort extended
back and included what is now known as the Place d’Armes or Ring.
The old Château St. Louis was once the seat of a power that ruled from
the Mississippi River to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. It was destroyed by
fire in the year 1834, and thus was lost a priceless relic of the past.
The unsurpassed view from Dufferin Terrace and the pretty retreat known
as the Governor’s Garden are the magnets that compel instant admiration
from all comers. Every resident of Quebec is justly proud of the
Dufferin Promenade. It is the very heart of its social and recreational
life.
In a ramble, or by taking a car along the Grande Allée, the martello
towers erected about a hundred years ago may be seen, and a little
further west is the shaft erected to the memory of the immortal Wolfe.
Near these towers there were several fierce struggles when the British
advance came that way—Wolfe lying mortally wounded only about a quarter
of a mile distant.
The monument to Wolfe marks the spot where he died. He received his
fatal wound a few hundred feet nearer the city, but was carried back
here to breathe his last in comparative peace. His body was interred in
the family vault at Greenwich, England, a national memorial of him was
erected in Westminster Abbey, and by special proclamation a day of
thanksgiving for his great victory was appointed throughout the British
Empire.
It is well worth while to extend the walk west to Wolfesfield, for on
the riverside is Wolfe’s Cove where the British landed in 1759; and the
difficulties of the steep and narrow path up the face of the rocky
height, and the midnight ascension to fame, and death, will come vividly
to mind.
The “Monument aux Braves” on the Ste. Foye Road may be reached by the
St. Louis and Belvedere Roads. Here was fought the Battle of Ste. Foye
between the French and English under De Lévis and Murray respectively.
Murray was defeated. It was a sanguinary conflict, for over four
thousand brave dead are here buried. The struggle brought no advantage
to France; it was evident by this time that the British were too firmly
rooted to release their hold.
A very interesting monument is that to Wolfe and Montcalm in the
Governor’s Garden near the Château Frontenac. The English translation of
the Latin inscription is:
“Valor gave them a common death, history a common fame, and posterity a
common monument.”
This beautiful dedication is surely an evidence of that happy union of
French and British that has resulted in the enlightened and practically
independent Canada of to-day.
The brave Montcalm was buried in the Ursuline Convent, and here may be
seen the French and British monuments to that gallant general.
General Montgomery, who fell in the American attack on Quebec, was
buried in a small enclosure near the ramparts by the St. Louis Gate. The
British consenting, his remains were removed to New York after an
interval of over forty years, and were interred in St. Paul’s Church
there. A tablet with the inscription, ‘Here Montgomery Fell, Dec. 31,
1775,’ now marks the scene of his death. The tablet to ‘Her Old and New
Defenders’ who ‘unitedly guarded and saved Canada’ by defeating Arnold,
should by no means be overlooked. It is placed on the Molson’s Bank near
the Sault-au-Matelot where the barricade then stood that was so ably
defended.
The last of Quebec’s great historic monuments is that to Jacques Cartier
on the way to Lake Beauport, to the left of the Charlesbourg Road, and
about a mile from the city. Here the St. Malo navigator wintered in the
year 1535-6, built his first fort, and erected a large cross inscribed
with the name of King Francis I. and bearing the royal arms of that
ruler. Here was also erected a few years later the first Jesuit
monastery of New France.
There yet remain to be seen four monuments of general interest. The
first, that to Queen Victoria in the Victoria Park over the St. Charles
River; the second, to Bishop de Laval near to the Post Office; the
third, on the Grande Allée, to the memory of Short and Wallick, who lost
their lives in the work of checking the great fire of 1889; and the
Soldiers’ or South African Monument, which stands on the Esplanade,
close by the St. Louis Gate.
This last monument was erected by the citizens of Quebec to the young
heroes who lost their lives defending the British flag in the Boer War.
On a tablet is inscribed:
“Not by the power of commerce, art or pen, shall
our great Empire stand; nor has it stood,
but by noble deeds of noble men—
heroes’ outpoured blood.”
A walk along the Grande Allée, and on St. John and St. Valier Streets
will be rich in interest. Palace Hill, too, and the old streets of St.
Paul and St. Peter are full of character; while in the cluster of
old-town streets, alleys and passageways that extend from below the
eastern ramparts to Little Champlain below Dufferin Terrace, the visitor
will find the quaintest sights the new world has to show. Mountain Hill,
Sous-le-Fort and Sous-le-Cap are streets the like of which may be seen
nowhere out of Quebec. St. Louis Street, the Esplanade and St. Roch’s
will repay close intimacy and examination.
[Illustration: Sous-le-Cap Street, Quebec]
In a ramble that has for its object an inspection of the chief public
and historical buildings of the city, the ruins of the Intendant Bigot’s
old palace claim attention. They are at the foot of Palace Hill and are
now used as ale and porter vaults.
Bigot was a high-placed scamp of the worst description. The times in
which he lived were somewhat loose, but even then he excited much
unfavorable criticism by living with a woman to whom he was not married.
One evening he got drunk, a not infrequent event with him. Stumbling
homewards he lost his way in the woods, where he slumbered away some of
his drunken stupor. Unfortunately for her a pretty French-Algonquin
maiden was passing when he awoke. He saw and admired her, and like more
than one of the royal masters of France he built a bower for his
Caroline in the woodland depths. It is claimed she was his unwilling
prisoner. The Intendant’s pseudo wife soon learned she had a rival
hidden away somewhere. Driven mad by jealousy she stealthily followed
the unsuspecting Bigot and found his retreat. She returned to the city
and said nothing, but soon after that a scream aroused the sleeping
Intendant while spending the night in his sylvan bower. He rushed to
Caroline’s room and found her lying there, murdered, with a knife in her
heart. There are many versions of this terrible affair, and in this
connection the novel of William Kirby is well worth reading.
Over the Post Office there is an effigy known as the ‘Chien d’Or,’ or
‘Golden Dog,’ which has excited much interest on account of its
enigmatical inscription, a translation of which here follows:
“I am a dog gnawing a bone,
While I gnaw I take my repose.
The time will come, though not yet,
When I will bite him who now bites me.”
The stone tablet bearing this effigy and inscription was originally in
the walls of the old house owned by one Philibert, which house formerly
stood on the post office site. When the old house was demolished, the
tablet was saved and incorporated in the new building. A story of murder
and revenge appears to be connected with the strange inscription, but
like most of the old traditions it is a matter of dispute. Kirby’s
‘Golden Dog’ gives one version that makes interesting reading.