The Richelieu and its Rapids.

Chambly.

The Fort.

Beloeil Mountain.

uneducated, and superstition is a strong feature in their religious character.

Large Cross.

They are

honest, kind-hearted, and industrious, have few wants, live frugally, and, in their way, seem to enjoy a large share of earthly happiness.

The Richelieu has either a swift current or noisy rapids nearly the whole distance between St. John's and Chambly. The stream is broad, and in many places deep, for it is the outlet for the whole volume of the waters of Lake Champlain into the St. Lawrence. In some places the foaming rapids produce a picturesque effect to the eye and ear, and vary the pleasure of the otherwise rather monotonous journey between the two villages.

Chambly is an old town, at the foot of the rapids, and bears evidence of thrift. A Frenchman bearing that name built a small wood fort there, which was afterward replaced by the solid stone structure pictured on page 171. The latter retained the name of the original fort, as also does the village. It is a military station at present, and, being at the head of the navigation of the Richelieu or Sorel from the St. Lawrence, has a commanding position. The river here, at the foot of the falls, expands into a circular basin about a mile and a half in diameter. The old fort is dismantled and ungarrisoned, and is now used only for a store-house. Near it are seen the remains of the battery erected by Bedell, while preparing to storm the fort in 1775. I tarried at Chambly long enough only to reconnoiter and sketch the old fortress and the features of the Beloeil, the only mountain range in view, and

1848.

CANADIAN PEASANT GIRL.

There I learned that Although the sun was

then went to an inn to dine, a mile on the road toward Longueuil. a French Canadian, nearly one hundred years old, was living near. declining, and we had seventeen miles' travel before us, I determined to visit the old man

This sketch is taken from the southeast angle of old Fort Chambly, showing the rapids in the foreground. The mountain is twenty miles distant, near the Sorel. On the highest point of the range the Bishop of Nancy, a French prelate, erected a huge cross in 1843, the pedestal of which was sufficiently large to form a chapel capable of containing fifty persons. In November, 1847, during a severe thundergust, the lightning and wind completely demolished the cross, but spared the pedestal, and that, being white, may be seen at a great distance.

and sound his memory.

We met him upon the road, coming toward the inn. He had just left his rake in the field, and had on a leather apron and broad-rimmed hat. He was a small, firmly-built man, apparently sixty-five years old. Conversation with him was difficult, for his dialect, professedly French, was far worse than Gascon. Still we managed to understand each other, and I gleaned from him, during our brief interview, the facts that he was born in Quebec in 1752; remembered the storming of the city by the English under Wolfe; removed to Chambly in 1770; was a spectator of the capture of the fort by a detachment from Montgomery's army in 1775; assisted in furnishing stores for Burgoyne's army at St. John's in 1777; and has lived upon and cultivated the same small farm of thirty acres from that time until the present. He was ninety-six years old, and appeared to have stamina sufficient for twenty years more of active life. He seemed to be a simple-hearted creature, ignorant of the world beyond the Richelieu and the adjacent village, and could not comprehend my movements while sketching his honest countenance.

He was delighted, however, when fore, and he felt insulted by the seeming attempt to win him from his allegiance. Glorious old convert, and firm old preacher of principle in the very den of the fierce lion, for decanters were at his elbow, and a friendly hand proffered the contents to his lips! A vow of total abstinence from intoxicating drinks at the age of ninety-five! For that I pressed the hard hand of FRANCOIS YEST with

a firmer grasp when I bade him adieu. We had a pleasant ride from Chambly to Longueuil (seventeen miles) over a plank road. Unlike similar roads in New York, the planks were laid diagonally. They had been in use twelve years, and were but little decayed. The country all the way to the St. Lawrence is flat. The soil, though rather wet, is productive, and almost every rood of it was under cultivation. Here and there were a few groves, but no forests; and a solitary huge bowlder

by the road-side, shivered by lightning, was the only rock that I saw between the Richelieu and the St. Lawrence. When within three miles of Longueuil, the glittering domes and spires of Montreal appeared in the distance like gems set in the dark mountain that formed a background beyond. It was five o'clock when we reached Longueuil, a mile and a half below Montreal, on the opposite side of the river. There I parted from the young gentleman whose light wagon had conveyed me from St. John's, and proceeded to Montreal on the steam ferry-boat that connects it with Longueuil. Neither cab nor omnibus was in waiting, and I was obliged to ride a mile in a rickety caleche,' drawn

A THUNDER-STRUCK ROCK.

1 The caleche is a two-wheeled vehicle, much used in Lower Canada. It is similar in form to our gig, but, instead of having but one seat, there is one for the driver upon the dash-board. Four can ride comfortably in one of them. Some are made elegantly, with a folding cover to ward off the sun or rain, and they are a pleasant vehicle to ride in. I found them in universal use in the narrow streets of Quebec. Such was the vehicle in use in Canada at the time of our Revolution, and mentioned by the Baroness Reidesel as the kind in which she and her children traveled with the British army.

Ride in a Caleche.

Safe Arrival of my Companion.

Aurora Borealis.

An Evening Stroll.
The vehicle, horse, driver, and ride altogether made a

A CALECHE.

by a representative of Rosinante. funny affair. The driver was a little Frenchman, with a jocky-coat and breeches, and a red tasseled skull-cap. All the way he belabored his beast with blows and curses, but the animal's hide and ears seemed impervious. I could think of nothing but a parody on a couplet of the old song, "If I had a donkey," &c. As we wheeled up a narrow court from St. Paul's Street to the Exchange Hotel, a merry laugh of half a furlong's audibility rang out from a group of young ladies upon an upper piazza, and that was my first evidence that my traveling companion, Miss B-, had arrived safely, as per consignment in the morning to the care of the urbane proprietors of that excellent establishment. She had rambled through the city with pleasant company until thoroughly wearied, so I took an evening stroll alone. The day had been very warm, but the evening The stars were brilliant, yet it was too dark to see much beyond the dim forms of massy buildings, wrapped in deep shadows. But above, in the far north, a phenomenon seldom exhibited in summer was gorgeously displayed; more so than we often see it in lower latitudes in winter, and I stood an hour in the Place d'Arms, watching the everchanging beauties of the brilliant Aurora Borealis. It is a strange sight, and well might the ignorant and superstitious of other times regard it with fearful wonder. Lomonosov, a native Russian poet, thus refers to the sublime spectacle :

was cool.

Interesting View. Visit to the City Churches. Parliament House. Grey Nunnery.

CHAPTER VIII.

HE pleasure-seeker will find much about Montreal to amuse him; and the staid traveler, searching for the gold of general knowledge, might fill a large chapter in his journal, in recording what is noteworthy among present things there. Mine is a tour too specific in its aim to allow much latitude of departure from historic research, and, therefore, things irrelevant, yet incidentally connected with the objects of the journey, must be passed by with brief notice.

August 9, 1848.

Early on the morning after our arrival we joined purses and company with a young married couple from Burlington, who were on a wedding jaunt, and, procuring a barouche, went out to visit the "lions" of the city and suburbs. We first rode to the "Mountain," a lofty hill on the west, in the rear of the city, composed chiefly of a sort of compound trap-rock slightly covered with soil upon its summit, and crowned with a forest of small trees. The road, as it winds up its southern slope, passes the Priests' Farm,' the Governor's Palace, and many beautiful villas, and opens to the view a lovely, cultivated country on the western part of the island and the Isle of Jesus beyond. Near the summit of the mountain is a cottage completely enveloped in trees and shrubbery, where ices, wines, and fruit tempt the appetite. We loitered in its sweet flower-gardens for half an hour, and then ascended to the hill-top. Beautiful panorama! The city, with its numerous polished tin roofs, lay glittering at our feet in the morning sun. The broad St. Lawrence, cleft by St. Helen's and one or two smaller islands, was teeming with water craft, and in every direction the landscape was dotted with little villages, each having its church, "pointing its taper spire to Heaven."

We descended the northern slope of the mountain to the city, and visited St. James's or the Bishop's Church, one of the largest and most richly decorated church edifices in the province. It is the cathedral of the titular Bishop of Montreal, and contains many fine European paintings over the several altars. There were worshipers at all the altars, and some of the confessionals were occupied by penitents and priests. An attendant, a devout old Frenchman, showed us a number of relics, and assured us, by a printed placard in French, that certain prayers and money-offerings at the different shrines would blot out a host of transgressions. Our Protestant education taught us that prayers without faith avail nothing; and our faith in this particular being like a “ grain of mustard seed," we saved our money and time, and hastened to the Parliament House and the Grey Nunnery near. stepped into the capacious parish Church or Cathedral of Notre Dame on our way. It has a marble font said to be twelve hundred years old, having belonged to a church in Rome in the seventh century. We visited the Legislative chambers and the valuable library in the Parliament House, and then rang for entrance at the gate of the GREY NUNNERY, or General Hospital of the Charitable Sisters. This, as an almoner of comforts to the aged and lonely, is a noble institution, the income of the establishment, and the whole time of the Sis

2

We

'The "Priests' Farm" (La Maison des Prêtres) is an ecclesiastical establishment situated on the south side of the "Mountain." The buildings, inclosed within high walls, with massive round towers, are large, and have an antique appearance. They are surrounded by several fine gardens and orchards, and, in summer, are a weekly resort for the professors and pupils of the seminary and college.

2 The Parliament House and the valuable library within it, containing the Legislative records of the province, were burned by a political mob in April, 1849. The loss is irreparable, for many of the books were too rare to be replaced.

M

The Grey Nuns at Prayer.

First Settlements at Montreal.

Cartier.

Jealousy of the Indians.

1

ters of Charity connected with it, being devoted to the relief of poor and infirm old persons, and the nurture and education of orphans. The building is spacious, and a large number of both classes are there made comfortable. Our visit was at mid-day. When the clock struck twelve, a long procession of the nuns, veiled, marched slowly into the chapel, singing a Gregorian chant, and knelt within the nave in prayer. We followed in respectful silence. Each nun had a small crucifix and string of beads attached; and whatever may have been the case with their thoughts, their eyes never wandered, notwithstanding strangers were gazing upon them. They were habited in dark drab dresses, bound with black velvet and looped up behind; aprons with stripes, and over the head (on which they wore a cap with a deep border), covering the face and neck, a thin black veil was thrown, through which the features were discernible. Some were young and

pretty, others old and plain, but the sacred character of their labor of love invested them all with beauty. We visited a few other places of note, and, after lunch," I left my company and went down to Longueuil, where Carleton was defeated by Warner in 1775. We are upon historic ground; let us open the old volume a few moments. Montreal is built upon an island thirty miles long and twelve wide, and is upon the site of ancient Hochelaga, a noted Indian village which gave its name to the river in this vicinity. The first white man who visited the spot was Jaques Quartier or Cartier, a October 3, French navigator, who discovered the Gulf and River St. 1535. Lawrence, and gave them the name they bear. The vicinity, even up the slopes of the mountain, was tilled and covered with corn-fields. Cartier was enchanted with the view from the mountain-a view of thirty leagues radius"—and, in honor of his king (Francis I.), he called it Mount Royal. In time the name was modified to Montreal, and in this form was borne by the white settlement that gathered there in 1640. The spot was consecrated by the superior of the Jesuits, and a chapel built in 1642.

66

GREY NUN PRAYING.

The Indians, at first friendly, became jealous, and at length hostile. The town was stockaded and slight bastions were built, but finally a strong wall of masonry was constructed, fifteen feet high, with battlements and six gates. The town gradually increased in size and commercial importance, and at the time of our Revolution was nearly as populous as Quebec. When, toward the middle of the last century, hostilities commenced between the English and French colonies, Montreal was an important place as a frontier town. There Duquesne de Menneville' and Vaudreuil de Cavagnal, French governors of Canada, fitted out their expeditions against the English on the Ohio and the unfriendly Indians of New York. Montreal was threatened by the English under Amherst in 1759, but it was not until the autumn of 1760 that it passed out of the possession of the French. Quebec surrendered September 8, 1760. a year before, and Vaudreuil retreated to Montreal, with a determination to make

1 This hospital was founded by M. Charron and others, in 1692. In 1748 it passed into the hands of a society of ladies, at the head of whom was Madame Youville, who, being left a widow at the age of twentyeight, determined to devote her life and fortune to the relief of the infirm poor. In 1755 the plan of the establishment was enlarged, so as to embrace orphans, the cause of which was singular, as given in Bosworth's "Picture of Montreal." One winter day, as Madame Y. was passing the "Little River," she saw an infant hard frozen in the ice, with a poniard sticking in its throat, and one of its little hands raised through the ice as if in the attitude of demanding justice against the perpetrator of the crime. Madame Y. was dreadfully shocked at the sight, and, on consultation with her associates, it was resolved to extend their charity and protection to orphans and foundlings.

He arrived in the gulf on the festival of St. Lawrence (10th of August), and, on account of that circumstance, named the waters in honor of the saint.

3 He built a fort on the Ohio, which was called Fort Duquesne. It is memorable as the place near which Braddock was defeated in 1755, when Washington's military talents were first conspicuously devel. oped. The name of the fort was changed to Pitt, and the present city of Pittsburgh stands upon its site.