Chapter 15

_Tuesday, 2nd._--On deck at six A.M.: found the lake had assumed a river-like appearance; the channel narrow, the banks low and swampy. The day, too, was as much changed as the scene from yesterday, for a drizzling rain was falling, and the clouds looked heavy and threatening.

As we neared St. John's, we had a slight custom-house visitation; and, soon after landing, were served with an excellent breakfast; after which came the bustle of departure. A string of carriages, of the same build used throughout the States, occupied half the little street, all loading heavily with baggage and bipeds, till by nine we got in motion, forming quite a caravan.

The road lay for a time along the bank of the new canal destined to unite the head-waters of the lake with the St. Lawrence, and was a pleasant succession of ditch and bog-hole. It got better after a few miles' jolting, but was nowhere tolerable, or creditable to his Majesty's dominions.

On entering La Prairie, at noon, we found the good people annoyed by a visitation which had not yet reached St. John's, namely, myriads of a winged insect called the shad-fly; these covered and crowded every building, filled the water and the air; they lodged on your clothes, rendered sight difficult, and speaking impracticable, except with closed teeth. Luckily, these flies neither sting nor bite; so that, setting aside their appearance, and a certain tickling they inflict upon the neck and face, they are easily borne with. At half-past one P.M. the steamer Britannia quitted the port of La Prairie to cross the wide St. Lawrence, to where our Land of Promise, Montreal, lay glittering in sunshine some nine miles distant.

Half an hour landed us, and I received the pleasure of a grip of welcome from my old friend W----w, who, with two or three of his brother-officers, was on the look-out for me. Leaving my baggage to the care of Sam, I stepped into the boat, and at once accompanied W----w to St. Helen's, lying about half a mile from the main land.

In ten minutes more we were treading the verdant sod of the island, when my first movement was to walk round it. I found it to possess every variety of country in perfect miniature proportions: here were wood-crowned steeps, shady glades, and open meadows, all offered in as many changes as might well be managed on so small a surface. Viewed from this, the city too looked very attractive, scattered over the southern side of the great mountain.

This little island was the latest possession of the French in Canada. Above a fort now in ruins was last elevated the white standard, which at one time fluttered from the St. Lawrence to the Mississippi: thus girdling, as it were, the British colonies, France one day looked to sweep into the Atlantic.

Upon the westernmost point of the island, the tree still stands fresh and vigorous beneath which the articles for the final cession of the Canadas were agreed upon, and the last portion of the vast empire contemplated for France by the genius of Richelieu for ever abandoned.

The present garrison is composed of a company of the Royal Artillery. Here is an extensive depôt for stores, an armoury, two great magazines containing not less than six thousand barrels of gunpowder and all the other munitions of war.

In the afternoon I re-crossed the channel and surveyed Montreal, which has an air completely French. The streets are irregular, narrow, ill-paved, and moreover rejoice universally in a fishy savour in no way detracting from their Gallic characteristics.

Here is a large building in progress, or at least standing in an unfinished state, called the Cathedral, but, saving the size, putting forth externally small claim to notice; whilst the interior might serve as a model of ill-taste, both as to arrangement and colour, for the especial enlightenment of all future building committees. The convents appear well built; and many of the private dwellings are large, and of a goodly aspect.

_Thursday, 4th._--Having fully made up my mind on this day to ride over the race-course, visit the Rapids of _La Chine_, and make a complete circuit of the mountain, I was resolute, my time being meted, to carry out my plan despite a thunderstorm of the most violent kind, which began as we were setting forth and continued all day, with one or two short intervals of sunshine.

I found in the beauty of the country as seen from the Rapids, and from the different points of the mountain, ample compensation: what my complaisant companions felt I am not so sure of. We of a certainty returned in the afternoon three of the most thoroughly soaked and dirtiest gentlemen within the wide range of his Majesty's dominions. On the whole, it was agreed that, having to choose between a ducking or a dusting, we were better off served up soused in rain and only parboiled, than we should have been smothered in dust and wholly roasted.

Dined at the hospitable mess of the 32nd, and quitted it late for St. Helen's.

The lightning was frequent and very vivid during our row across the rapid; and it was a curious speculation to narrowly watch an occasional flash descending the tall conducting rods, and gambol along the roof of the great magazine, as though prying for a sly crevice by which to enter. It afforded a subject for consideration to calculate the next possible resting-place of our little isle, should the ignition of six thousand barrels of gunpowder treat us with an ascension by moonlight.

The soldiers' wives were in great alarm, poor souls! and some of the chubby regimental urchins, destined to live on gunpowder, were now crying their eyes out for very fear, as they clung to their mothers' petticoats, where they gathered in little knots to watch the fantastic course of the wild fluid.

Fatigue had prepared me for sleep, and my rest was undisturbed, excepting that I conceived the sentry's quarterly cry of "All's well!" sounded louder than usual, or that I heard it oftener than was my wont, as it rose distinctly above the fitful roar of the storm.

_Friday, 5th._--All is perfectly calm, and gladness and increase of beauty are spread over the newly-renovated field and forest. "What a delicious spot is this same St. Helen's!"

Such, involuntarily, was my exclamation as I this morning thrust aside the jalousies from my open window, and felt the pure air rush within my little chamber, and saw the sunbeams dancing down the passing rapid, and flashing from the bright roofs and spires of the more distant city. One might have fancied the tales of El Dorado realized, and that the precious metals were here devoted to cover the humblest dwellings.

I should like greatly to have a history of this sweet spot since the first bold savage braved in his canoe the perilous rapid, and found security beneath the shadow of these spreading trees.

In the winter, by the way, the passage is simple enough,--a natural high road of ice unites it to Montreal; and last season, my friends inform me, they drove their light _carioles_ over a finer way than Mac Adam ever dreamed of, for full thirteen weeks.

Independent of the garrison, the population of St. Helen's is limited to three or four families in the civil employ of the government, together with the holder of a fine farm, a scion of the Green Isle, who bears the unquestionable name of Mister Dolan; a man of little labour but much Latin, whose humanities are at his finger-ends whilst his toes are out of his brogues.

In right of a small rental paid to government, this worthy carefully superintends the dilapidations performing by time and the climate upon the neat cottage, and a couple of rustic pavilions erected by the taste of Lady Dalhousie whilst her lord commanded here, together with an inclosed garden, which would, if decently cultivated, supply Montreal with fruit and vegetables, all of which, under the inspection of my friend Mister Dolan, is fast retrograding into its primitive condition.

I this morning, at eleven, met my company at the theatre, a very neat one; and, what with those already mustered, together with a windfall just landed from Waterford, in the shape of a pretty woman and her husband, in search of an engagement, I fancy my friend B----y and I may manage to get up one night's fun for Montreal, though, for my own part, I would rather idle than play.

Same night acted a couple of interludes to a full house, and an exceedingly merry-humoured one; although the only really good thing was the orchestra, composed of the excellent band of the 32nd regiment, which had been kindly placed by the commanding officer at the disposal of "the Lessee."

At a late hour took to the skiff for our quiet retreat, which rose, in this time of moonlight, above the shining waters like some fairy garden resting on a bed of mother-of-pearl. We sung Moore's Boat-song, and not a sound except the appropriate soft plash of the oars came between us and the echo that faintly repeated our chorus.

The echo from the island, by the way, is very distinct, and oft repeated; and, on such a night as this, to stand beside the nine-o'clock gun, listening to its bellow as it reverberates amongst the opposite heights, is one of the things of these parts worth doing.

_Saturday, 6th._--Again, what sunshine! and how invigorating is the wind, now breathing sweet music through the trees as their thick leaves rustle above the swift river!

Two or three large rafts are in sight, their hardy crews straining on the huge oars as they cross the rapids for the city. At measured intervals their wild cry fills the air; whilst the notes of our island bugles, together with the drums of the city, reply merrily and boldly, as though flinging back the challenge of some approaching horde of savage invaders.

And verily no beings can look more wild of aspect or attire than the crews working the huge rafts which navigate these waters. Europeans, Indians, and _Bois-brules_, as the half-breed is denominated, are all found in this employ, but so much alike in equipment and complexion, that, only for the round Saxon face, light hair, and blue eyes, here and there distinguishable, it would be difficult to conceive them of different lineage.

A pair of loose trousers of coloured serge or flannel, a sash of scarlet worsted or wampum girt about the loins over a shirt of indescribable hue, moccassins on the feet, and a red cap or bonnet of fox-skin, or not unfrequently a shock of hair that despises any covering, and alike defies the force of sun and storm, forms the common costume of these sons of toil, whose lives, commonly of short duration, are wasted in quick alternations of perilous labour and wild debauch.

Their rough mates, the boatmen of old Mississippi and the lakes, have nearly disappeared; and how much longer steam and railway will yet leave this calling open to the Tartar-spirits of the North, it is impossible to say. At present they are evidently in full employ, for there is hardly a reach of the rivers flowing about the isles of Montreal but is, at some time or other throughout the day, laden by these cumbrous rafts, often measuring one hundred feet in length by ten in width.

These masses are rafted from vast distances; and, during their course of perhaps fifty days, their crews look for no covering: the rain descends upon them, and the waves of the rapids rise over them, but they abide both without shade or shelter; subsisting principally upon pork, dressed or raw, as may be, and having for their beverage the stream whereon they may chance to float, except during an occasional halt at some stated point where whisky invites them to hold a deep but brief carouse.

At ten A.M. crossed to the city according to appointment, to meet three friends in whose good company I was to visit

THE SAULT AU RECOLLECT.

I procured the stout charger whose quality of endurance I had well tested on a former occasion. True to our time, we took the road, such as it was, and, after an hour's hard riding, reached the river at the point where several fine mills and a fishery bring constant grist to the worthy monks of St. Sulpice, who are here the lords paramount of soil and stream.

The fishermen appeared divided into two watches or squads, one of which was actively casting for the shad, the other more pleasantly employed in cooking them.

We took our stand upon a green point elevated a few feet above the river it projected into; in front ran the Sault, or leap, raging like the ocean when lashed by a gale, and churning amongst reefs of rock. Opposite to us, at a distance of some half mile, stood a couple of very spacious stone-built mills, their lofty substantial walls pierced by numerous narrow windows, and surmounted by steep red roofs, high over which waved a grove of noble trees: this was _l'île Jésu_, and the stand whence we surveyed this scene the Isle of Montreal.

Whichever way we cast our eyes, up or down the stream, its course was vexed and its mood chafed more or less; but before, and close upon our right, was the wildest turmoil; and over an eddy of this, from off temporary platforms of planks, the fishermen flung down the stream their round landing-nets, as far as the eighteen-foot pole to which these were affixed would permit, then painfully dragged them back against the current, sometimes laden with fine shad, but oftener coming home empty, to be again leisurely cast back.

The sameness of this movement, the softness of the turf, and the difficulty attending conversation, had gradually lulled our little party into a pleasant reverie; when, on a sudden, we were startled by faint cheers borne on the downward breeze: we all sprang upon our feet in an instant, and, looking upwards, caught sight of a monstrous bed of timber bounding towards the Sault.

This was the very chance we had desired and were waiting for, and intensely was my sight directed towards it. On the very centre of the raft a tall pole was elevated, surmounted by a fanciful flag; at its foot the Pilot, or _Conducteur_, was stationed, motioning the course suggested by his glance at the state of the fall, towards which the mass was hurried with a rapidity each instant seemed to accelerate; and, in obedience to his directions, the active _rameurs_ were seen tugging at the oars, and straining each sinew to the uttermost.

Involuntarily we approached the very edge of our stand, to watch as closely as possible the first plunge of that great raft down into the boiling breakers, from whose abyss a crew of Titans could not now have turned it. Quickly it neared the awful leap; at a signal from the watchful pilot, the foremost half of the crew abandoned their useless oars; and, running nimbly along the timber, rallied in a group about their standard, waving their caps, and braving the wild roar of the water with as wild a cheer. Suddenly the fluttering pennon drooped against the mast, then rose erect above it; the loud hurrah was lost, and headlong down they sank.

The heavy mass, loosely bound together, now writhed and bent about like a net of twine cast upon an angry brook, whilst the concussion produced by the clashing timbers sounded like a discharge from a battery. I drew short breath as I looked upon the men emerging from the foam, and again actively running to quarters to resume the heavy oars.

If the raft goes down unbroken, they guide it so as to preserve the very strength of the stream, until the diminished pace again demands their labour; but if any timbers are severed from the parent bed by the leap, as is frequently the case, the sternmost gang leisurely dart their pile-headed poles of an almost unwieldy length into the stray logs, and thus drawing them quickly back again, secure them in their places preparatory to the next fall lying on their perilous path.

I felt monstrously excited when, roused by the cry of the near _voyageurs_, I rose for the first time to witness a scene to which I feel my pen can do but little justice; from the first glance at the timber-ends emerging past a leafy turn in the up-stream, and bounding onward with a momentary increase of impetus, until the strong raft becomes but as a bed of straw upon the torrent. Then there is the desperate plying of the oars, their hurried abandonment, with the in-gathering, of the bold crew clinging together with cheers round their bright flag, until the leap is made, and the assailing waves rise boiling about and above them.

One of the descending rafts, for we were favoured with several, parted in nearly two halves within the rapids: luckily no one had been left out of bounds; for, as the fishermen assured us, the strongest swimmer is never seen alive after his first plunge into these frightful eddies.

Having abided our time, we purchased a fine shad, which we took to a near cottage, where the mistress cheerfully set about _boucan_-ing it for us; that is, roasting it over the fire in the smoke of the wood. With this, some brown-bread, and a glass of water, we made an excellent luncheon; then, after taking a considerable circuit, re-entered Montreal, and crossed at once to the island _par excellence_.

At half-past eight P.M. of the same evening I was put on board the "British America" steamboat, a fine large-class vessel, having a heavily laden schooner in tow.

As we swept down before the river-front of the city, I was struck with the appearance of the steep tin-roofed houses and many little domes glancing back the moon's rays; when, turning to regard St. Helen's, the blaze of a port-fire arrested my attention; the flash of the gun instantly succeeded, whilst, amidst its prolonged echoes, rose the contending notes of drum and bugle. It was just nine o'clock; in a few moments all was again calm and still, the last spire of Montreal quickly retreated in the shades of night, and the low banks of the St. Lawrence stretched away far and wide before us.

After a couple of hours' walk on deck, where two or three ladies and gentlemen were promenading with the quick, active step that at once proclaimed them English, I felt sufficiently wearied by some eighteen hours actively passed on foot or in saddle, to calculate on a sound sleep.

About midnight a devil of a row awakened me; I listened, and heard a rush overhead like a burst of cavalry, the trampling of horses, the yelling of dogs, together with the loud voices of many men in high contention. What the mischief can have come to us? thinks I.

A stray waiter, whom I discovered discoursin' a friend in the pantry, was at last made sensible of my calls, and from this youth I quickly learned our whereabout.

We were lying at Sorrel, the country-residence of the Governor, Lord Aylmer; and the noise was occasioned by the shipping of his lordship's stud for Quebec, whither the family had removed from this summer abode, to await and receive the commission about to supersede him in his high office.

Finding that the din was not occasioned by an infall of the aborigines, but was only a peaceful taking in of freight, I dismissed my waiter to his friend and pantry, and "addressed me again to sleep."

_Sunday, 7th._--About noon arrived at _Trois Rivières_, a very pretty little town, which, being Sunday, was thronged with the rural population of the vicinity attending church.

Numbers of these persons were pacing along the river-bank upon sturdy little ponies, and in the harbour were many _bateaux_ filling with them, before re-crossing the St. Lawrence: their dress was invariably neat and picturesque, and their physiognomy, though somewhat heavy, was gentle and pleasing. These _bateaux_ were shaded with the branches of trees, and decorated with wild flowers, and when moving off with their freight had quite an Arcadian appearance.

From this place to St. Anne's, the north bank of this river might be sketched for the same side of the Mississippi as viewed from New Orleans to Baton Rouge; a natural levee runs along at about the same elevation, on a like dead level; directly behind this bank are scattered similar poor-looking tenements, badly built, and half painted; and, at a certain distance in the rear of these, rises a melancholy-looking forest of half-naked trees, with not a single rise or gap along the hazy line of the horizon resting upon them. The glowing heat of this calm day also favoured the illusion, which was certainly in all its points the most perfect imaginable: it would require very little to persuade a man landed here on such a day that he was in Louisiana.

The river again becomes interesting about the junction of the Richelieu. The banks are once more broken and of irregular heights. Numerous churches, having domes and spires like the _béfrois_ of Normandy, only that these are roofed over with pure tin, shoot above each wooded knoll; and the stream whirls and boils amongst reefs of irregular rock, some hidden, others visible, moving at a great pace for the ticklish navigation.

At three P.M. the Heights of Abraham hove in sight, and our prospect grew in interest with every moment. Next rose a forest of tall masts along the shore; away upon our right was Point Levi, with its soft wooded brow; and above our heads upon the left glistened tower and town, with the grim batteries hanging over the precipice.

As we drew closer, the ruins of the Chateau formed an object of striking interest, and gave added effect to the approach to this most picturesque capital; an object of interest which I hope will soon be removed by his Majesty's loyal and liberal parliament for Lower Canada, and a new edifice erected, in a style becoming to their taste and worthy such a site.

The valley of Montmorency, with its long straggling suburb, soon opened to our view; and the river assumed the appearance of a lake encircled by mountains, and bounded at its eastern extremity by the Isle of Orleans.

I was perfectly enraptured with air, earth, and water: freshness and beauty reigned over all; there was not a cloud in the sky or a spot on the landscape one would have desired blotted out; and, taken as a _coup d'oeil_, I do not hesitate to say this was by far the finest I ever beheld.

Sunday though this was, there was much bustle in the harbour. Little dwarfish steamers were flying across the channel in opposite directions; long boats, laden with sea-worn emigrants, were rowing from the shore back to their respective ships.

It was pleasant to look on these poor people coming back from a first attendance at the altars raised, by their predecessors in exile, amidst a wilderness now made, by the industry Heaven has blessed, so glorious.

How cheering in their eyes must have been this sunny view of the land of their adoption! How must their hearts have leaped within them as they pressed for the first time its shores, and heard once more the sound of the church-going bell, and kneeled in gratitude before that type of salvation which they came to bear yet deeper within the bosom of the desert, themselves the hardy pilgrims of a new crusade! their _hâches d'armes_, their stout wood-axes; their lances, the goads of the patient steer; their artillery, the plough and harrow; their advance, the progress of industrious hardihood; their bloodless victory, a blessing to the field they win, a glory to the banner under which they strive: braving peril, toil, and exile for a country to be made holy by their triumph, and consecrated at once to freedom and to God!

It was impossible to contemplate unmoved this rustic chivalry, this banding of men of every European tongue for a common purpose, so pregnant with good for themselves and for their posterity.

Let the healthful tide roll on, here is boundless space for all comers; and ages must pass before willing toil shall fail to find present employment, cheered by the prospect of ultimate independence.