Читать книгу Summer Provinces by the Sea - Canadian Government Railways - Страница 4

Table of Contents

It is undoubtedly best to approach Quebec by way of the south shore; the city, as is generally known, being on the north side of the St. Lawrence. Whether coming from Montreal and the south-west, or St. John, Halifax and the east, the Intercolonial Railway brings the traveller to the most convenient point, Lévis, immediately opposite Quebec.

Here, taking one of the ferries, and with a seat under the awning of the upper deck, a splendid view is had of the further shore as the steamer makes its way across the river. No need to ask, “What place is this?” or “Is this Quebec?” Such a question would be absurd, for here in all its grandeur is the great St. Lawrence River, there clusters Quebec around the grim old rock, and yonder, high up, where proudly floats the flag of empire in the active breeze, is the King’s Bastion, with the old citadel, the Château Frontenac and all the spires, peaks and towers that make this place like an ancient picture from the Old World.

What a delightful experience it is to look upon sights and scenes that are novel and beautiful, full of charming local color, and permeated with that atmosphere of grandeur and power that quickens the pulse and causes the thrill of emotion to telegraph its way through the nerve centres. As soon as Quebec is approached it becomes immediately apparent that it is rich in all those things that excite human interest; and if the opinion of others is needed, the testimony of that galaxy of the great, famous in geography, literature, science and art—that long procession of renowned men and women that has taken its way hither in unbroken pilgrimage through the past centuries—is all based on the one majestic keynote of wonder, admiration, reverence and love for all that Quebec typifies for the people of two hemispheres.

How pleasant to sit and view the magnificent prospect up and down the noble river, and see the great mountains that tower 29 and then disappear in the distant blue haze. What glorious clouds; and what beautiful effects of light and shade the bright sun paints on the broad outspread canvas of nature that surrounds us! It needs but the sight of Quebec in its grand setting of striking beauty and the simple melodies of the people heard from violins and harp amidships, to transport the mind in a delightful reverie of the past.

In fancy we see the Henrys, the Edwards, Good ‘Queen Bess,’ James, poor Charles, the sturdy Lord Protector, Cromwell, and all the long line of crowned heads whose history is woven in with that of Eastern Canada. And then the French King Francis, the two Henri, and the four Louis, with Champlain, Jacques Cartier and Frontenac; the noble missionaries who came here to teach the savage Indians—murdered, or burnt at the stake for their devotion; the great captains, including England’s Nelson, the brave soldiers down to Wolfe and Montcalm, and since; the Norman and Basque peasant settlers, the coureurs du bois, the buccaneers, privateers and adventurers; all these have figured in Quebec’s remarkable history.

A bump at the landing dock recalls us to the present, and as we step ashore it is with reverence akin to that which we feel when standing under the towering Norman greatness of Durham Cathedral, or when in the sacred precincts of Westminster Abbey where lie buried the genius and achievement of centuries.

And now Quebec is reached, and some of the things that will ever be in mind after this memorable visit are now before us; and weeks of happy experiences are about to unfold their treasure to our admiring gaze.

There is no better way of understanding and appreciating what the old city holds in store than that of first rambling about in every direction on foot. With occasional car trips and with a drive now and again in a caleche, the plan of the city and its environs becomes gradually clear. The sight of the quaint streets and of the many old features that are so novel on the new continent will be enjoyed because seen without guide or premeditation. The process known to our English cousins as ‘knocking about,’ which is to saunter where you will, on foot and without haste, is the best way in Old Quebec. It is on foot that terrestrial things are seen intimately, and when we have made a dozen ‘rounds’ of the lower town, walked along the ramparts again and again, rambled in the 30 citadel, promenaded on Dufferin Terrace, quenched our thirst at the Frontenac, climbed the glacis, walked the parapets, viewed the majestic scene from the King’s Bastion, sauntered over the Plains of Abraham, and circled the city until every spot is known; then, and not until then, shall we drink in enough of the atmosphere, and be in a condition to take an intelligent view of all that surrounds us, awaiting the keen examination that cannot be made in a hasty or superficial manner.

Of the general appearance of Quebec it will be enough to quote from the words of three of its famous visitors. Thoreau wrote: “I rubbed my eyes to be sure I was in the nineteenth century.” Dickens recorded: “The impression made upon the visitor by this Gibraltar of America, its giddy heights, its citadel suspended, as it were, in the air; its picturesque, steep streets and frowning gateways; and the splendid views which burst upon the eye at every turn, is at once unique and lasting;” while Henry Ward Beecher set down these as his impressions: “Curious, old Quebec!...... of all the cities on the continent of America, the quaintest...... We rode about as if we were in a picture book, turning over a new leaf at each street!”

A brief survey of the history of New France, or Eastern Canada, is a necessary preliminary for the full enjoyment of all those things for which Quebec is famed.

Commissioned by Henry VII. of England, Cabot sailed west in search of a route to China and India, and discovered America. This new land he set down as the coast of China. The discovery was not immediately followed up by further exploration or settlement, and not until the year 1534 did Jacques Cartier, the St. Malo navigator, make a voyage of discovery for the French sovereign Francis I. The intrepid sailor succeeded in reaching the western continent, or New France, and landed at Gaspé, where he erected a cross with an inscription on it claiming the country for the King of France.

Winter approaching, he made his way home again. Before leaving he had entrapped two natives, and these he took with him as evidence of his success.

In the year 1535 Cartier made a second western voyage, and this time he sailed up the great river which he named the St. Lawrence. At that time the fish were so plentiful that the progress of 31 the little flotilla of three tiny ships was often greatly impeded. Bears, also, were very numerous, and quite expert in catching the fish for their food. It was a common sight to see Bruin plunge into the water, fasten his claws in a great fish and drag it ashore.

The native Indians were also seen, in canoes, hunting seals and catching white whales. Alarmed by the approach of the strange men in their marvellous vessels, the savages paddled off with haste; but on being addressed in their own tongue by the two returned captives on Cartier’s vessel, they abandoned their flight and returned to gaze with astonishment and child-like wonder at all they saw.

Cartier was informed of the existence of an Indian village of considerable size at Stadacona, quite near to Quebeio or Quelibec, and there he met the great chief Donnacona, the ‘Lord of Canada.’

There is no complete agreement on the origin and meaning of the name ‘Quebec.’ Some have traced its derivation from the word ‘Kepek,’ the aboriginal equivalent for ‘come ashore,’ supposed to have been addressed to Jacques Cartier when he hove-to near Stadacona. Others have surmised that it sprang from the exclamation of a Norman sailor on first seeing the great cape—“Quelbec!” (“What a cape!”) Again, the Abenaquis word ‘Quelibec,’ meaning ‘narrowing’ or ‘closed,’ is supposed to be the real derivation; while a very strong claimant for recognition is the Indian word ‘Kebeque,’ which means ‘a narrowing of the waters.’

Learning of another large native village on the St. Lawrence, a considerable distance above Stadacona, Jacques Cartier determined to proceed there with one of his vessels. The chief Donnacona, a shrewd old savage, did not favor further penetration of his domains, and calling to his aid some of his tribe dressed as ‘devils,’ he hoped to frighten the bold navigator with the frightful whoopings and noisy invocation to the demons who were supposed to inhabit the forests.

Cartier pushed on, however, and leaving his vessel near the place now known as St. Maurice, and proceeding in the ship’s boats, reached Hochelaga, the site of the present Montreal. The village was circular in form, with 32 a strong palisade surrounding it. The one entrance was well guarded by removable barriers, and platforms were erected inside from which stones could be showered on possible assailants. The square or assembly-ground was in the centre, having grouped around it the birch-bark wigwams or houses. Their weapons and implements were of rock, and their simple life was communal.

The impression made by the advent of the white-faced men from another land had a pathetic side; for the diseased and blind were carried out from their rude shelters in order that the great White Chief should cure their infirmities by the ‘laying on of hands.’ But alas! the white man was not divine—and the poor Indians were consoled by presents of hatchets, knives and beads, etc., followed by the thrilling sound of a ‘flourish of trumpets.’

During Cartier’s absence a fort and winter camp had been constructed at Stadacona by his men, the site of which may be seen on the River St. Charles. Cartier gave the name of Mount Royal to the mountain overlooking Hochelaga village, and this name has survived in the Montreal of Canada’s commercial capital.

Early next Spring Cartier, and all the remnant of his band that survived after a severe attack of scurvy, sailed for France. A serious blemish in Cartier’s character is shown by the record of his having carried off by force—torn from their homes and country—poor old Donnacona, ‘Lord of Canada,’ and other chiefs. They died in captivity, far from their kin, and with the sad memory of their great river and noble forests ever with them to the end.

Cartier returned to New France a third time after some five years; but the seed of distrust was sown in the minds of the natives by the absence of their stolen chiefs, and it was not long before the fruit of hatred and strife developed and gradually grew until it steeped the country in continual war and bloodshed. Cartier again set out to proceed up the river to Hochelaga, but finding the natives had been warned and were becoming hostile he turned back to Stadacona. He eventually returned with Roberval to France, and died in his native St. Malo about the middle of the sixteenth century.

It is interesting to learn that Roberval’s titles were Viceroy and Lieutenant-General of Canada, Hochelaga, Saguenay, Newfoundland, Belleisle, Labrador and Baccalaos.

France was now seeing stormy times in her home affairs, and no well-directed effort was made to follow up Cartier’s work—although other explorers and fur-traders crossed the stormy seas in their endeavor to make a settlement in the New World.

QUEBEC

1. Montmorency Falls2. City Hall Park3. Chateau Frontenac4. Government House, Spencer Wood5. Boating on the Lorette6. Upper Fall, Montmorency

At last the brave and capable Champlain sailed from Harfleur in 1608, and reached Stadacona or Kebec in safety. Here at the foot of the rock where the quaint street Sous le Fort has since been made, a settlement was laid out which Champlain called ‘l’Abitation de Kébec,’ and which consisted of three lodgings and a store-house, all fenced in and surrounded by a ditch.

Champlain made several trips to France, each time bringing back missionary-priests and settlers. He built, a fort on the height above his ‘Abitation,’ on the spot where his statue has since been erected. The little colony commenced to grow, and soon numbered some fifty people. And now began the troubles that were to shake the infant settlement, rumblings of more desperate encounters, for a hostile British fleet arrived, and Quebec was compelled to capitulate. Champlain again sailed for France, where he remained until Charles I. of England gave back Quebec to King Louis.

The founder of Quebec at last, returned to the beloved home of his adoption, where the work of building had to be done a second time—fire having destroyed both ‘Abitation’ and fort, as well as other buildings. With energy and skill, supported in the main by the love and esteem of his fellow colonizers, Champlain toiled on; his noble character showing in all he did. To keep on good terms with the neighboring Algonquins and Hurons he took part in their struggles with the fierce Iroquois, and penetrated inland as far as the Georgian Bay and southern shore of Lake Ontario. The greatest vigilance was now more than ever necessary, for the savage Iroquois crossed the great lakes in their war canoes, came down the St. Lawrence and lurked in the woods, ever ready to cut off and scalp the French when found in small numbers. In addition, the inexperienced Colonists were quite unprepared for the severe winters, and they were often on the verge of starvation.

Other serious troubles came. The British appeared in naval force, and again Quebec capitulated—Champlain being taken to England as a prisoner of war.

The political kaleidoscope now took another turn, and Quebec was once more given back to France by Charles I. of England.

For the last time Champlain again returned to Quebec, this time as governor, and his customary energy was shown in all that related to the welfare of the colony. In the fulness of time, rewarded by the success of his labors and beloved by his fellows, the great man breathed his last. He is justly considered to have been the ablest and best of all the early explorers and governors.

The new governor Montmagny was a worthy and capable man. He greatly improved Quebec and commenced the stone construction of Fort Saint-Louis. It is interesting to note that during his incumbency the Jesuits built their college. It was commenced in the year 1638, which makes it the oldest institution of learning in North America, antedating Harvard College by one year. A few years after this the Château Saint-Louis was built within the walls of the fort.

Frontenac next ruled the destinies of Quebec with a firm hand. Excepting Champlain he was perhaps the ablest governor, although his character was marred by arrogance and sell-will. He, perhaps better than any, understood how to hold the Indians in check. The brave d’Ibberville ably seconded the aggressive governor during his second term of office—recalled to stem the victories of the Iroquois and to repel the threatened attack on Quebec by a British fleet. This fleet arrived and anchored off the Isle of Orleans. To the haughty summons from Admiral Phipps, to surrender within an hour, came the proud reply of Frontenac, “It is through the mouth of my guns that your general will hear my reply.” The attack was a failure—so well did the guns talk. After that the able Frontenac strengthened the defences of Fort Saint-Louis to such an extent as to convert it into a real citadel.

Towards the close of the seventeenth century Frontenac passed away. The troubles of Quebec were not by any means ended. A great army and fleet under the British Admiral Walker was sent out to reduce and occupy Quebec. In going up the St. Lawrence River during a dense log, a number of the transports were wrecked on Egg Island. More than a thousand men were drowned. This calamity saved the threatened city, for the officers of the expedition became disheartened and abandoned the project.

Governor’s Garden, Quebec

As a sequel to that terrible loss of life in the great outer waters of the St. Lawrence there has survived one of those traditions of which the story of ‘The Flying Dutchman’ is the prototype. In the words of Moore:

“There lieth a wreck on the dismal shore

Of cold and pitiless Labrador

Where, under the moon upon mounts of frost,

Full many a mariner’s bones are tossed.

Yon shadowy bark hath been to that wreck

And the dim blue fire that lights her deck

Doth play on as pale and livid a crew

As ever yet drank the churchyard dew.

To Deadman’s Isle in the eye of the blast,

To Deadman’s Isle she speeds her fast;

By skeleton shapes her sails are furl’d,

And the hand that steers is not of this world!”

The Treaty of Utrecht brought peace to France and Great Britain in a division of the land for which they had contended. It was agreed that Canada, Isle Royal (Cape Breton) and l’Isle St. Jean (Prince Edward Island) should belong to France; while Great Britain received Nova Scotia, Newfoundland and the Hudson Bay Territory.

In the succeeding years the two countries again drifted into war, and by 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.

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, 39 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.

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.

“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 40 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.

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.

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 43 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.

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, 45 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.

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,