First view of Quebec--Passage of the St. Lawrence--Novel and
rather alarming situation--Russell’s Hotel--The Falls of
Montmorenci, and the “Cone”--Aspect of the City--The
Point--“Tarboggining”--Description of the “Cone”--Audacity
of one of my companions--A Canadian dinner--Call on the
Governor--Visit the Citadel--Its position--Capabilities for
defence--View from parapet--The armoury--Old muskets--Red-tape
thoughtfulness--French and English occupation of Quebec--Strength
of Quebec.
It was early in the morning when the train from Montreal arrived at
Point Levi on the right bank of the St. Lawrence, a little above
Quebec. The impression produced on us by the heights of Abraham,
by the frowning citadel, by the picturesque old city glistening in
the sun’s rays, and by the great river battling its way through the
fields of ice and the countless miniature bergs, which it hustled
upwards with full-tide power, can never be effaced.
It required some faith to enable one to believe the passage could
be made by mortal boat of that vast flood from which the crash of
ice sounded endlessly, as floes and bergs floating full speed were
dashed against each other--flying fast as clouds in a wintry sky
up the river, the banks of which resembled the sheer sides of an
Alpine crevasse. The force of the stream is so great as to rend
through and rupture the coat of ice which is thickened daily, and
the masses thus broken, tossed into all sorts of singular shapes,
jagged and quaint, are borne up and down by the flood till they
are melted by the increasing warmth of spring. An ice bridge is
occasionally formed by the concentration of the ice in such masses
as to resist the action of the water, and then sleigh horses cross
by a path which is marked out by poles or twigs stuck in the snow,
but it more usually happens that the river opposite Quebec remains
unfrozen, and offers the singular spectacle of the ice rushing
up and down every day as the tide rises and falls, to the great
interest and excitement of strangers who have to cross from one
side to the other.
At first the attempt seems impracticable. The deep blue of the St.
Lawrence can be only seen here and there through the bergs and
floes, like the veins beneath a snowy skin, but those glints are
for ever varying as the ice passes on. The clear spaces are no
sooner caught by the eye than they are filled up again, and every
instant there are fresh rifts made in the shifting surface, which
is at once as solid as a glacier and as yielding as water. In this
race the bergs are carried with astonishing force and rapidity, and
a grating noise; and a grinding, crashing sound continually rises
from the water.
At the station there was a goodly crowd of men in ragged fur coats
and caps, pea jackets, and long boots, of an amphibious sort, who
did not quite look like sailors, and who yet were not landsmen.
These were clamouring for passengers, and touting with energy in a
mixture of French and English. “Prenez notr’ bateau, M’sieu’--La
Belle Alliance! Good boat, Sar! Jean Baptiste, M’sieu’: I well
known boat-man, Sir.” “The blue boat, Sir, gentleman’s boat, Mon
Espoir,” “L’Hirondelle,” and so on at the top of their voices. And
sure enough there, drawn up on the snow near the station, was
a range of stout whale boats, double planked on the sides, and
provided with remarkably broad keels.
We selected, after a critical inspection, the captain of one of
these--a merry-eyed, swarthy fellow, with a big beard and brawny
shoulders--as our Charon, and following his directions we were
stowed away in a sort of well between the steersman and the
stroke oar, where we sat down with our legs stretched out very
comfortably, and were then covered up to the chin with old skins,
furs, and great coats. When all was ready, a horse was brought
forward with a sling bar, to which a rope was attached from
the bow, and we glided forward along the road towards the most
favourable point for crossing at that stage of the tide. The boat
was steadied and guided by the crew, who ran alongside with their
hands on the gunwales. Houses by the roadside snowed up--shop
windows with French names--sallow-faced, lean people looking out of
the grimy windows--some large ships on the stocks, roughly placed
on the river bank--these met the eye as we passed over the snow
road towards the point opposite the city now looming nearer. With
cheap timber and labour it is not surprising that the shipbuilding
trade of Quebec flourishes.
For more than a mile and a half the boat careered eastwards, in
active emulation with several other boats which were in our track,
and the citadel on the opposite shore already lay behind us, before
the horse was detached at the side of a deep incline leading to the
river, and in another moment the boat was gliding down the bank and
rushing for a blue rent in the midst of the heavy surface, into
which we splashed as unerringly as a wild duck drops into a moss
hole. The moment the bow touched the water, all the crew, some
seven or eight in number, leaped in and seized their oars, which
they worked with a will, whilst the skipper, standing in the bow,
directed the course of the steersman.
We were now in a basin of clear water surrounded quite by ice,
which only left the tops of the small bergs and the high banks on
each side visible to us seated low down in the boat; and as we
looked the floes were rapidly closing in upon us; but the skipper
saw where the frozen wall was about opening, and forced the boat to
the point of the advancing and narrowing circle, in which suddenly
a tiny canal was cleft by the parting of the bergs, and the
opportunity was instantly seized by the boatmen.
The ice was already closing and gripping the timbers as soon as
we had fairly entered, and in an instant out leaped the crew on
the treacherous surface, which here and there sank till they were
knee-deep, and by main force they slid the boat up on a floe, and
rocking her from side to side as a kite flutters before it makes a
swoop, they roused her along on the surface of the ice, which was
floating up towards the city very rapidly. With loud cries to a
sort of chorus, the crew forced the craft across the floe till they
floundered in some half-frozen snow, through which the boat dropped
into the water. Then in they leaped, like so many Newfoundland dogs
coming to land, all wet and furry, took the oars again, and rowed
across and against the tide-set as hard as they could. Now in the
water, then hanging on by the gunwales, this moment rowing, in
another tugging at the boat ropes, clambering over small ice rocks,
running across floes, sinking suddenly to the waist in the cold
torrent, the men battled with the current, and by degrees the shore
grew nearer, and the picturesque outlines of the city became more
distinct in the morning sun.
What with the extraordinary combinations and forms of the ice
drifts, the inimitably fantastic outlines of the miniature ice
architecture, and the novelty of the scene, one’s attention was
entirely fixed on what was passing around, and it was not till we
had nearly touched land that we had time to admire the fine effect
of the streets and citadel, which, rising from the icy wall of the
river bank, towered aloft over us like the old town of Edinburgh
suddenly transplanted to the sea.
We found an opening in the blue cold water-rocks near the
Custom-house landing-wharf, at which place there was a shelving
bank; a stout horse was attached to the boat by a rope, on which
the crew threw themselves with enthusiasm; and in a few seconds
more we were on the quay, and thence proceeded to Russell’s Hotel,
which was recommended to us as the best in the place. One may find
fault with American hostelries; but assuredly they are better than
the imitations of them which one finds in Canada, combining all the
bad qualities of hotels in the States and in Europe, and destitute
of any of the good ones.
The master of the hotel was an American, and he had struggled hard
“under the depressing influences of the British aristocracy” to
establish an American hotel, and he only succeeded in introducing
the least agreeable features of the institution; but the attendants
were civil and obliging, and there was no extravagant pressure on
the resources of the place, so that we fared better than if we
had been down south of the frontier. Even the landlord, though
not particularly well-disposed towards one so unpopular among his
countrymen as myself, yielded so far to the _genius loci_ as to be
civil. The rooms were small, and not particularly clean; but as
painting and papering were going on, those who follow me may be
better provided for.
A short rest was very welcome; but what fate is like that which
drives the sightseer ever onwards, and forces him, with the rage of
all the furies, from repose? “The Falls of Montmorenci were but a
drive away, and the ‘Cone’ was in great perfection.”
“What is ‘the Cone?’” The effect of our ignorance on the waiter
was so touching--he was so astonished by the profound barbarism of
our condition--that we felt it necessary for our own character to
proceed at once to a spot which forms the delight of Quebec in the
winter season, and to which the _bourgeoisie_ were repairing in hot
haste for the afternoon’s pleasure.
A sleigh was brought round, and in it, ensconced in furs, we
started off for the Falls, which are about eight miles distant.
It was delightful to see anything so old on this continent as the
tortuous streets of the city, which bear marks of their French
origin, after such a long contact as I had endured with the raw
youth of American cities in general, but it was impossible to deny
that the antiquity before us had a certain air of dreary staleness
about it also. The double-windowed flat-faced houses had a lanky,
compressed air, as if they had been starved in early life, and the
citizens had the appearance of people who had no particular object
in being there, and set no remarkable value on time. A considerable
sprinkling of priests was perhaps the most remarkable feature in
the scene, and occasionally knots of ruddy-faced riflemen, in all
the glory of winter fur caps and great coats, disputed the narrow
pavement, alternating with the “red” soldiers of the line.
The city is built on very irregular ground, and some of the streets
are so steep that it is desirable for new comers to have steel
spikes screwed into the foot-gear to combat the inclination to
proneness on the part of the wearers. Emerging through a postern
in the ancient battlemented wall we came out in an uninteresting
suburb of small houses, from which a descent led to the margin of
the water. Far as the eye could reach a vast snow plain extended,
with surface broken into ridges, mounds, and long dark lines, and
dotted with opaque blocks from which the church steeples sprung
aloft, indicating the sites of villages. The ridges were the hills
over the St. Lawrence, the mounds its islands, and the lines its
banks, which expand widely on the left to embrace the sweep of
the St. Charles Lake, on which stands the projecting ledge of the
eastern part of the city.
As we approached the Lake, over which our route lay, black specks,
which were resolved into sleighs, or men and women on foot, were
visible making their way over the ice, which was marked by lines
of bushes and branches of trees dressed up in the snow so as to
indicate the route, and far away similar black specks could be
made out crossing the St. Lawrence below, which has now become the
great highway. But not a very smooth road. The surface is far from
being level, and consists indeed of a succession of undulations in
which the profound cavities sometimes give one a sense of insecure
travelling.
On the whole, however, the expedition was much to be enjoyed, the
air was bracing, and the cold not intense, and the scene “slid into
the soul” with all its deep tranquillity. Doubtless it produced a
very different effect on the red-nosed Britons who were keeping
watch and ward on the ramparts of the citadel, or on the poor
“habitant” trudging patiently beside his sleigh-load of wood, and
knowing that snow is his portion for the next five months.
On our right a continuous movement of white rugged masses, to all
appearance like a stream of polar bears, betokened the course of
the unfrozen St. Lawrence; on our left rose the high bank of the
lake over which we were travelling, and cottages of the villagers;
before us the sleighs were streaming towards a point which ran out
into the river and beyond which there seemed to be a shallow bay.
This was the point at which the Montmorenci river, recovering from
its fall, expanded into a broad sheet at its junction with the
greater river. Here we arrived in about an hour.
At the Point there were a few houses, some vessels imbedded in
the snow, and piles of sawn timber and deal planks, and a great
concourse of sleighs; and beyond it, looking up to the left, at
the distance of some half-mile, we saw a glistening sugarloaf of
snow, on the summit of which the creaming, yellow-tinged mass of
the Falls apparently precipitated itself from the high precipice
which bars the course of the stream. On the snow between us and
the sugarloaf, and up the white sides of the latter, little black
objects were toiling with small progress, but at intervals one
of them, gliding from the top of the cone like a falling star
in the Inferno, rushed prone to the base, and thence carried by
the impetus of the descent skimmed over the ice towards us for
hundreds of yards, like a round shot till its force was spent.
Of the crowd gathered at the Point nearly every one had the small
hand-sleigh, something like a tiny truck with iron runners,
under the arm, known in the vernacular as a “tarboggin,” of the
derivation of which it is better to confess ignorance. A few were
provided with sleighs of ampler proportions, and all the visitors
were bent on tarboggining it, either from a shoulder of the Cone or
from the summit of the mass itself.
As we approached over the snow the natives, men and women, flew
past us on their way after a rush down the Cone, shouting to
the bystanders to take care. Sometimes two were together, the
lady seated on the front part of the machine, the man behind
lying on his face with his feet stretched out so as to guide the
sleigh by the smallest touch against the ice. At a distance the
pleasure-seekers looked like some hideous insects impelled towards
us with incredible velocity. As they came near and flew past, the
expression of their countenances by no means indicated serene
enjoyment.
Near the Cone itself a crowd of “tarboggin” hirers and guides
beset us and guaranteed a safe descent, but it seemed a doubtful
pleasure at best, and there was some chance of breaking limb, as
we were told happened frequently during the season. We ascended to
the lower shoulder of the Cone by steps in the snow and gazed on
the scene with some curiosity. Not only were the people launching
themselves from the Cone, but more adventurous still there were
who, climbing up the steep side of the precipice, tarboggin under
arm, at last reached some vantage snow, by the side of the Fall,
where they threw themselves flat on the sleigh, and then came
rushing down with a force which carried them clear up the side of
the lower ledge of the Cone and over it, so that they were once
more plunged downwards and were borne off towards the St. Lawrence.
It could now be very plainly seen that the Falls fell behind the
Cone into a boiling turbulent basin, which fretted the edge of the
ice and repelled its advances. Although much diminished in volume
the body of water, which makes a leap of 250 feet down a sheer
rock face into the caldron, was sufficiently large to present all
the finest characteristics of a waterfall, but it was at times
enveloped in a mist of snow, or rather of frozen spray, which
blew into eyes, mouth, ears, and clothes, and penetrated to the
very marrow of one’s bones. And it is of this ever-falling frozen
rain the Cone is built, and as the winter lengthens on the Cone
grows higher and higher, till in favourable seasons it reaches an
altitude of 120 feet. It is as regular as the work of an architect,
and, I need not say, much more beautiful. At present it had not
attained its full growth, and was only 80 feet in height--but its
symmetry was of Nature’s own handiwork. The Falls are in a narrow
concave cup of rock crested with pine forests, and its sides now
forbid the ascent, which is practicable in summer time by a series
of natural steps in the strata. The waters cover this young cone
with wings of spray and foam, and flittering, tremulous, and
unsubstantial as they are, it is nevertheless from their aerial
vapours that the solid and sturdy ice mountain grows up.
Of its substantial nature we had an excellent proof--of a human,
practical kind: for, obeying many invitations, we walked along
a snow path which led to a portal cut in the solid oxide of
hydrogen, and entering found ourselves in a hot and stuffy
apartment excavated from the body of the Cone, in which there was
an Americanised bar, with drinks suited to the locality, and as
much want of air as one would find in a house in the Fifth Avenue
of New York. It was full of people, who drank whiskey and other
strong waters.
I know not by what seduction overcome, but, somehow, so it
happened, that one of my companions, on our return to the outer
air and light, was led to sacrifice himself on a tarboggin, and
yielded to a demon guide. I watched him toiling on, with painful
steps and slow, doggedly up the path towards the slippery summit,
and, when he had gained it, I slid down below to observe the result
of the experiment, and judge whether it looked pleasant or not. He
was but an item among many, but I knew he was among the _braves
des braves_, and had received a baptism of fire in the trenches
of Sebastopol, which had rained a very font of glory in India,
and scarcely paled in China. I watched him assuming the penal
attitude to which the young tarbogginer is condemned, and after a
balance for a moment on the giddy height, his guide gave a kick
to the snow, and down like a plunging bomb flew the ice-winged
Icarus. He passed me close; I could see and mark him well. Never,
to judge from facial expression, could man have been in deadlier
fear. With hard-set mouth, staring and rigid eyes, and aspect quite
antipathetic to pleasure, he careered like one who is falling from
a house top, and his countenance had scarce assumed its wonted
placid look when I met him gasping and half faint. And yet he had
the astounding audacity to say, “It was delicious. Never had a
more delightful moment,” when he came back pale and panting from
his flight.
We returned from the Falls by a hilly, rough road over the bank of
the Lake, and arrived at our hotel in time to dress for dinner, to
which I was invited at the house of a Canadian gentleman, I think
an Englishman by birth, who entertained us right hospitably.
There is a wonderful calm in the conversation of the Canadians,
perhaps a little too much so, but it is a relief from the ambitious
restlessness of the common American. The Canadian mind suffers as
the mind of every country which is not a nationality must suffer,
and caution assumes the place of enterprise. If the Americans knew
the business of diplomacy a little better, and could but restrain
the democratic vice of boastful threatening and arrogant menace,
they could have alienated Canada from our cold rule long ago, even
though Canada would have lost by the change many privileges and a
cheap protection to her industry, commerce, and social expansion.
_February 10th._--To-day I paid my respects to His Excellency the
Governor, Viscount Monck, and proceeded to visit the citadel, which
is now occupied by a battalion of the 60th Rifles under Colonel
Hawley. Independently of the historical associations which attach
to this commanding-looking work, I was attracted to it by the
consideration that it has twice saved Canada to Great Britain. I am
bound to say that, in my poor opinion, it will never do so again,
if left in its present condition. The works, once strong, have
lost much of their importance since the introduction of long-range
artillery, and the armament is in a very imperfect condition,
consisting of old-fashioned pieces of small calibre, which could
furnish no reply to a battery established on the heights across the
St. Lawrence.
The citadel itself has in its construction some of the points of a
regular fortress after Vauban, and on the river side the parapets
tower aloft from a steep rock, which puts one in mind of the site
of the platform at Berne; but on the east side it is hampered by
houses and by the suburbs of the city; and it could be approached
without much difficulty from the other side, as soon as a lodgment
could be effected on the heights of Abraham. The fosses and ditches
were partially filled with snow, which obscured the ground and the
adjacent country, if such whiteness can obscure anything. Colonel
Hawley was good enough to show us over the works and point out the
objects of interest as far as they could be discerned. Among them
were some ancient iron guns on which Great Britain ought not to
rely for very effective service in the defence of the place.
But some new heavy guns have recently been mounted, others are
to follow, and as the ordnance stores in Canada will soon be
replenished with the best description of pieces, there then need be
no apprehension for Quebec on the score of weak artillery: or for a
position that is the key of Quebec, which is most emphatically the
master-key of Canada.
The outworks of the citadel itself, however, are not by any means
in a satisfactory condition; even the high parapet overlooking the
lower town might be crumbled away and expose the interior of the
place; in one particular part of this work the guns are masked by
blocks of houses, the windows of which actually look into the
interior of the citadel, and the fire of the place could be so
impeded, and the defence so cramped by the existing enceinte, that
I very much doubt whether it would not be better to remove the
latter altogether.
We trudged patiently around the long lines of parapet in the snow,
now looking down upon the river clamorous with its burden of ice,
and on the tortuous streets of the old-fashioned town. In summer
and in the open months the St. Lawrence is thickly studded with
ships; and dense forests of masts line the course of its banks;
but now the only specimen of commercial enterprise on its bosom
consisted of a few canoes struggling backwards and forwards through
ice and water with their scanty freights.
Inside the citadel, cherry-cheeked riflemen were playing like
schoolboys in the snow. In spite of temptation the regiment was
in good condition; and although in modern days some objection
might be taken to the closeness of their quarters in summer, the
British soldiers who served under Wolfe would have been greatly
astonished if they could have seen the comforts enjoyed by, and the
cares bestowed on, their descendants. Even those much-neglected,
injured Penelopes, the soldiers’ wives, are tolerably well off in
their quarters, somewhat too crowded, it is true, but still more
comfortable than at Aldershot or the Tower.
After a long march along the parapet, in which I stumbled across
more rotting gun-carriages, useless mortars, and bad platforms
than I care to mention, we visited the Armoury, which is near the
parade-ground of the citadel. The stock of firearms is arranged
with great taste, and the cleanliness and effectiveness of all the
material reflected credit on the storekeeper.
Some of the contents consisted of very interesting rifles of
renowned makers in former days, with carved stocks, flint locks,
and barrels encrusted with gold, intended as presents to Indian
chiefs and warriors of tribes sufficiently strong to cause us
injury by their hostility or render us service by their alliance.
Old flint-lock muskets of inferior quality, with barrels like so
many feet of cast-iron piping, intended for the indiscriminate
destruction of friend or foe; horse-pistols of the fashion in vogue
one hundred years ago, and the like, were to be found in the same
spacious apartment, which contained specimens of the most recent
improvements in firearms. Formerly flint pistols were served out to
the frontier patrols, but of course percussion locks have, for many
years, been given to all those employed in the service of the Crown
in a military capacity. Some worthy official at home, however,
still continues to send out barrels of flints with laudable
punctuality, as he has not been relieved by superior order from the
necessity of keeping up the supply of these articles. We have all
heard of the forethought evinced by the home authorities, when they
sent out water-tanks for our lake flotilla, forgetting that they
were borne on an element quite fit for drinking. But I heard in the
citadel of a still more remarkable instance of thoughtfulness.
A ship arrived at Quebec some time ago with an enormous spar
reaching from her bowsprit to her taffrail consigned to the
storekeeper. It had been the plague of the ship’s company, it
had been in everybody’s way, and had nearly caused the loss of
the vessel in some gales of wind. The whole resources of the
quarter-master-general’s department were taxed to get it safely
on shore, and transport it to the heights. And what was it? A
flag-staff for the citadel. And what was it made of? A stout
Canadian pine, which had probably been sent from the St. Lawrence
in a timber ship to the government officials at home; who, having
duly shaped and pruned it into a flag-staff, returned it to the
land of its birth at some considerable expense to John Bull.
The citadel is of no mean extent, but covers about forty acres of
ground, and necessarily requires a very strong garrison; if they
were exposed to shell or vertical fire from the opposite side of
the river, or from the western side of the place, as there is no
defence provided, they would certainly suffer great loss. It is
obvious that a permanent work must be built at Point Levi, to sweep
the approaches and prevent the establishment of hostile batteries
on the river. A regular bastion with outworks should be constructed
on the heights above the point, in order to make Quebec safe.
There are also dangers to be apprehended from the occupation
of the railway terminus at Rivière du Loup which do not affect
Quebec immediately, but are, nevertheless, to be carefully guarded
against. In the event of war appearing imminent, a temporary work
to cover the terminus on the land side, and sweep the river, would
be necessary.
There exist the remains of some outworks in advance of the citadel,
which are so well placed that it would be very desirable to
reconstruct defences on their sites. They are called the French
works, and their position does credit to the skill of the engineer
who chose it.
The British flag has waved for just 102 years from Cape Diamond,
but the Fleur-de-lys had fluttered on the same point for 220 years,
with the exception of the three years from 1629 to 1632, when Sir
David Kirke placed Quebec in our hands.
Nothing proves the inaccuracy of artillery in those days more
strikingly than the inability of the French, on Cape Diamond, to
prevent the British transports landing their men at Point Levi,
although the St. Lawrence is little more than 1000 yards broad
opposite the citadel. By our bombardment, however, we nearly laid
Quebec in the dust before the action.
On account of the very natural remembrance of the glory of Wolfe’s
attack, his death and victory, it has almost been forgotten that
our first attempt to land at Montmorenci was repulsed by Montcalm
with the loss of 500 men; and it was only when the original scheme
failed, that Wolfe conceived the plan of re-embarking his troops,
and landing above the town. He had 8000 regular troops; the French
had 10,000 men, but of these only five battalions were regular
French soldiers. Montcalm believed no doubt that he could drive
the British into the river, or force them to surrender, and he
threw the force of his attack on the British right, which rested on
the river. The French right, consisting of Indians and Canadians,
was easily routed; the French left, deprived of the services of
its general and of his second in command, was ultimately broken,
and fled towards the town, covered in some degree by the centre
battalions, which fell back steadily; nor was it till five days
after the battle that Quebec fell into our hands. The fire must
have been exceedingly close and desperate; and its effects speak
well for the efficiency of old Brown Bess at close quarters, for
out of the force engaged, the British lost over 630, and the French
1500, of whom 1000 were wounded or taken prisoners. There was
little artillery engaged; for we had but one, and the French but
two or three pieces on the heights. A very few months afterwards we
had nigh lost that which we had so gallantly and fortunately gained.
On the 28th April next year, General Murray, following the example
of Montcalm, and depriving himself of the advantages which a
position inside the walls of Quebec would have given him, moved
out on the heights of Abraham, with 3000 men and twenty guns, to
oppose the French under the Chevalier de Levi, who were moving down
upon the city. In an ill-conceived attack on the enemy, Murray lost
no less than 1000 men and all his guns, and had to retreat to the
city. He was only relieved by the arrival of a British squadron in
the river, which compelled the French to retire with the loss of
all their artillery.
Looking down upon the narrow path below the parapet, one must do
credit to the daring of Arnold, Montgomery, and the Americans in
their disastrous attempt to carry the citadel by an escalade.
Arnold, after his astonishing march and desperate perils by
the Kennebeck and Chaudière--which has been well styled by
General Carmichael Smyth one of the most wonderful instances of
perseverance and spirit of enterprise upon record--followed the
course pursued by Wolfe; and embarking at Point Levi, occupied the
heights of Abraham, but when Montgomery joined him from Montreal,
it was found they had no heavy artillery. Thus they were forced
either to march back again, or to try to carry the place by storm.
Two columns, led by Arnold and Montgomery, endeavoured to push
through the street at the foot of the citadel, one from the east
and another from the west.
The Canadians say, that after Montgomery carried the entrenchment,
which extended from the foot of the cliff to the river, he rushed
at the head of his column, followed by a group of officers, towards
a second work, on which was mounted a small field-piece. The
Americans were just within twenty yards when a Canadian fired the
gun, which was loaded with grape. Montgomery and the officers who
followed him were swept down in a heap of killed and wounded, and
the column at once fled in confusion. Arnold, who had forced his
way into the houses under the citadel, was carried back wounded
soon after his gallant advance: and the Canadians again claim for
one of their own countrymen, named Dambourges, the honour of having
led the sortie from the citadel which charged the Americans, and
forced those who were not slain to surrender.
Certainly the Canadians showed upon that occasion, as no doubt they
would again, a strong indisposition to fraternise with the American
apostles of liberty, equality, and fraternity; they harassed
their communications, and, under their seigneurs, cut off several
detachments. The attempt on Quebec was never repeated; and the
Americans fared but ill in both their Canadian campaigns.
A well-organised expedition made in winter-time would now be
attended with far greater danger than it was in former days, and
if the snow remained in good condition, artillery, provisions,
and munitions of war could be transported with greater facility
than on the ordinary country roads. Quebec would, under these
circumstances, be deprived of the co-operation of the fleet; but
with the improvement in the defence which would be effected by the
erection of a regular work at Point Levi, and by the alterations
indicated in the citadel itself, Quebec would be in a position to
resist any force the Americans might direct against it, and would
have nothing to fear except from regular siege operations, which
there was no chance of interrupting or raising. It would be most
important to have the feelings of the inhabitants enlisted on our
side. I fear there is reason to believe that they are antagonistic
to the Americans, rather than violently enamoured of ourselves.
Having enjoyed a view from the Flag-staff Tower, 350 feet above the
river, which in summer must be one of the grandest in the world,
and which even now was full of interest, my visit to the Citadel
was terminated by lunch in the mess-room, and I returned homewards
through the city. I was encircled with people enjoying the keen
bright air, though the thermometer was twenty degrees below
freezing point.
Not the least interesting to me of the people were the habitans
in their long robes gathered in round the waist by scarlet or
bright-coloured sashes, with long boots, and fur caps, and French
faces, chatting in their Old-World French; and the monks, or
regular clergy, who moved as beings of another age and world
through the more modern types of civilisation--such as fast
officers in fast sleighs, and the Anglicised families in their
wheelless calèches. I had the honour of an invitation to dine at
the club called Stadacona, which is a corruption or modification
of Indian words signifying “the site of a strait,” where I met
a number of the citizens of Quebec at an excellent substantial
dinner, which had far more of English tastes than of French cookery
about it. The conversation did not disclose any symptoms of the
tendency towards Americanisation which the Northern journals are so
fond of attributing to the people of Canada; but it was perceptible
that a war with America was regarded as an evil which could only
fall on Canada because of her connection with Great Britain, and
that Great Britain ought therefore to take a main part in it. The
Canadians are proud of the part borne by De Salaberry and others
in the former war; but, greatly as the country has advanced, I
doubt if there is now such a population of ready, hardy fighting
men as then existed: for most of the hunters, lumberers, and nomad
half-castes, who cannot be called settlers, have been absorbed in
cultivated lands and settled habits. The appointment of British
officers to organise and command the volunteers has given offence;
and I think it would be advisable, if not necessary, in case of
actual war, to let the volunteers choose their officers within
certain limits, and to give the authorities corresponding to our
lords-lieutenant of counties power to name the commanding officers
of corps, under the sanction of the Governor-General.