Part 5

The old manner of laying out or planning a house still prevails. The kitchen generally runs the whole length and breadth of the house—often a kind of half-basement effect is seen, open in front on the road, but closed entirely by the hill behind. Here cooking, washing, spinning, sewing and the general household work of the industrious _habitants_ is carried on, and here is where dinner is generally served. The whole activity of indoor life centres here; and so much was this the case in one house that a dog and five puppies occupied the hearthstone, a cat sat in the window nipping the green leaves of a plant, and a playful pet lamb frisked about unrebuked while four people were in the midst of preparations for serving the dinner. The houses are generally of substantial construction, and capacious barns are a noticeable feature in passing along the country side.

A favorite trip for those living or staying in Quebec is that on the ferry steamers to the Isle of Orleans, originally called _Isle de Bacchus_ by Jacques Cartier on account of the rich clusters of grapes that lined its shores when he cast anchor near. The island was occupied by Wolfe at the time of the fall of Quebec. There are many summer residences here, and it is a favorite place in summer for many who like to enjoy the cool river breezes.

The Falls of the Chaudière, not far from the railway junction of that name, should be seen by everyone coming anywhere near this locality. They are within easy reach of Quebec by steamboat or railway, being only about nine miles from the city.

The river has a considerable width and falls gently over the dam in a long line of silver. Passing then towards its lower channel it falls beautifully in two, and sometimes three, cascades into the depths below. There is a great volume of water in motion, and the swelling sound of the roaring and foaming plunge makes pleasant music. A climb down into the deep channel is very novel, and the additional views thus obtained are quite striking. Here is slate enough to supply schoolboys the world over for many a century to come. There is a good foothold, when once in the river bed, on the inclined and shelving stratification; and by going to the edge of the principal fall, the war of waters against rock may be seen in all its intensity, and, in addition, the seething depths below will cause a shudder as the full meaning of the word Chaudière, “the cauldron,” comes to mind.

The country is beautiful and well wooded. There is a charm in the whole view when seen from the high bank from under the shade of the noble trees: it can never be forgotten. Enough has not been made of this district and all that it contains. It has been overlooked in the wealth of beauty that surrounds Quebec. It is so easily reached from either Quebec or Lévis that everyone should include the Chaudière in their round of beautiful sights. Nothing could be more enjoyable on a fine day than to take a luncheon and enjoy a picnic in the fine woods by these famous falls.

It was by the valley of the Chaudière that Montgomery came from New England when he made his disastrous attempt on Quebec.

Instead of returning to Quebec by steamer or railroad, the electric car to St. Romuald and Lévis may be taken. The Church of St. Romuald is one of the most important on the whole St. Lawrence River. It has some magnificent paintings, fine altars and choice wood carving.

As the car speeds along, the freshness of the verdure and the bright gold of the buttercups will call for notice. It would be impossible to toss a cent out of the window without causing it to lodge in one of those gorgeous yellow cups. Nature asserts her sway over man’s inroads, for the railway embankments are covered with beautiful _parterres_ of purple, white, yellow, and blue blooms, with here and there a cluster of rich, wild lupine. No more beautiful country could be found, and the view of the great St. Lawrence, the village-capped heights, the gentle sloping mounds nestling for protection under the shelter of the high mountain chain, and the romantic cuttings through the chain of hills nearby—all these make a strong appeal to lovers of the beautiful. The little river running off to the south-east is the Etchemin, and in it there is a pretty waterfall.

From the opposite shore of Lévis one of the finest views of Quebec may be had. In fact, for miles up and down the south shore some of the grandest standpoints for extensive views may be found. The massive forts at Lévis, auxiliary to the fortifications of Quebec in the general scheme of defence, are worth seeing. It was from the Lévis heights that Wolfe’s artillery destroyed Quebec previous to its capture. The three solid structures that now constitute a strong line of defence are said to be very similar to the celebrated forts of Cherbourg. The Government Graving Dock is well worth a visit, especially at a time when a large vessel is docked there; for by descending the steps, walking along the bottom and then looking up at the great mass above, some adequate idea may be formed of the huge proportions of the modern “leviathan of the deep.”

Too much cannot be said of the grandeur of scene, the beautiful wood and dale, and the extensive panorama of country to be viewed from the vicinity of the Engineer’s Camp at St. Joseph de Lévis. The characteristic and charming view of the Montmorency Falls, with the beautiful St. Lawrence in the foreground, should be seen by everyone.

A military camp for general drill and evolutions is held here every summer, and in an amphitheatre of finely-wooded hills and gentle slopes running down to an almost level campus or plain, the citizen soldiers have ample room for comfortable quarters and extensive operations.

On a recent occasion six regiments of militia were encamped here, the 17th, 18th, 61st, 87th, 89th and 92nd. No better spot for the purpose could well be imagined. The tents on the slopes, open at the side for the air, and disclosing tastefully-grouped flags and other interior decorations, were all well placed to take advantage of shade and other natural advantages. In the officers’ quarters were mess tables comfortably placed in an annex or wing. The tents of the men gradually reaching down and on to the margin of the plain, the groups amusing themselves, preparing for the afternoon muster, fixing and cooking rations, etc.; and the orderlies and others passing from group to group all made a busy picture. An impromptu concert was in progress on a shady knoll where an artist on the accordeon was sweeping the air in long curves as he sent music in every direction. Men were playing quoits, or reading books and writing letters under the cool shade of the maple trees. The post office at the entrance of the encampment, the sentinel, the quarters of the staff below, the clean hospital, and, at the foot, the view of the broad St. Lawrence with its receding background of bold mountains, all made the scene a stirring and well-remembered one.

The energetic Colonel-Commander and his efficient aides had plenty of work before them in conducting the evolutions, and the men—many of whom were doubtless in camp for the first time—did very well indeed. And now the band formed, some regiments closed up their ranks, formed columns and marched off up the slope for skirmishing and outpost drill; while lower down other troops going through manual drill sent gleams of light from their gun barrels into the dark fir trees as the sun’s rays were deflected with brilliant effect. That persistent waving of flags on yonder distant knoll has its explanation in the corresponding signals that are being transmitted across the width of the broad amphitheatre from the edge of a clump of maples just behind us.

Colors were to be presented to one of the regiments, and a preliminary drill was being held for that occasion on the morrow. The ceremony, a very impressive one, takes place in the centre of a hollow square, the troops facing in; and to the imposing and patriotic strains of the national anthem the colors are unfurled.

To write that a peregrination through this whole country is beautiful and inspiring is to feebly express the charm of it all. The pleasure, too, of spending a day in the field with our citizen soldiery in the midst of such magnificent and heart-stirring scenery is great; and it brings a satisfaction and uplift to the mind that should cause thousands to visit this neighborhood.

Those who sojourn in Quebec, whether for weeks or months, will find no want of varied amusements. There are walks too numerous to mention where wild flower, the song of the bird and the music of the gushing rill and rocky fall enliven every step of the way. Boating may be carried on almost everywhere, and canoes may be placed on dozens of waters that are either quiet or rippling; according to choice. The interior lands of this district are the very best for hunting purposes; and many of the larger rivers are splendid salmon waters. In all of the surrounding streams and in the pure waters of the adjacent lakes lovers of trout fishing will find ample occupation and unstinted reward. Motor-boating, automobiling, golf, tennis, and all the sports of the field may be enjoyed here to their full; while as a centre or starting place for railroad and steamboat trips and tours in every direction Quebec assuredly takes first place.

_Summer Resorts of the Lower St. Lawrence_

From the town of St. Croix, west of Quebec, where the river is three miles wide, to Sillery Cove and the outlet of the Chaudière, the St. Lawrence gradually narrows to a width of less than one mile. After passing Quebec, however, and through the double channel that includes the Isle of Orleans, it broadens considerably, until opposite Baie St. Paul the great river has a width of over sixteen miles. Where the Saguenay empties it is eighteen miles across, at Little Metis it is over thirty-six miles, and finally to the west of Anticosti, where it meets the waters of the Gulf, it has a breadth of over one hundred miles.

The St. Lawrence carries an amount of water to the ocean that is exceeded by no other river on the globe save the Amazon. Its tributaries are all clear trout and salmon streams, and no water system can compare with it for purity. It has well been said that “Its waters shake the earth at Niagara; and the Great Lakes are its camping grounds, where its hosts repose under the sun and stars in areas like that of states and kingdoms.”

Long before it reaches the end of its course the river has become as saline as the sea, its tide like that of the ocean, its atmosphere about as breezy as that of the open Atlantic; and in the various resorts that are found on both shores—but principally or altogether on the south shore after easting from Tadousac and Les Escoumains—considerable variety of climate will be found.

From Quebec to Cape Breton, and Baie des Chaleurs to Halifax a geographical quadrangle is bounded that includes a diversity of scene and climate, and range of temperature, that cannot be found elsewhere; and this great variety of climatic condition enables the Canadian Government Railways to provide on its own system congenial places to meet requirements that are widely different in character.

The whole area of Eastern Quebec and the Maritime Provinces is much cooler than the New England States, and cooler also than Ontario and the West. It will be understood that Eastern Quebec is cooler than Western, and that a still cooler climate than that found in Eastern Quebec is obtained by going to the Atlantic Seaboard on the east side of Cape Breton or Nova Scotia. East and South-East New Brunswick are cooler parts than North, and North-West and West. Prince Edward Island occupies a middle ground in temperature between Quebec and Cape Breton or Eastern Nova Scotia; while in Cape Breton and Nova Scotia themselves the eastern or Atlantic front is cooler than the western or protected side.

In considering summer resorts the matter of climate and temperature is very important. What will suit one will not satisfy another. The broad and just statement may therefore be made that differences in temperature between various parts of the Maritime Provinces are more equalized after sundown. At night it is cool everywhere. Compared with the country to the south and west it is cool in any part of the Maritime Provinces, even at high noon. In the east the thermometer cannot rise high because of the cooling sea breezes. The temperature in the west is therefore a few degrees higher, and on that account the western and middle parts are often preferred by those unaccustomed to the bracing sea air of the open Atlantic coast.

The St. Lawrence in its progress oceanwards passes many a fair island on its way. Some of the most charming views may be obtained on and from these islands, and many of them are choice spots for picnic and camping-out parties. The most of these islands will be found opposite such places as Montmagny, Cap St. Ignace, L’Islet, Baie St. Paul, St. Alexandre de Kamouraska, Rivière du Loup, Isle Verte, Trois Pistoles and Bic, etc.

“I love to gaze upon those river isles, Where beauty sleeps, and blooming verdure smiles; Or view the nodding ships with swelling sails, Borne onward by the tide and gentle gales; Those winds that bring the vessel’d stores of wealth Bear on their wings the healing balm of health.”

Proceeding east over the Intercolonial Railway along the south shore we pass in turn the prosperous towns of Montmagny, Cap St. Ignace, L’Islet, St. Jean Port Joli and Ste. Anne de la Pocatière opposite Baie St. Paul and the Isle au Coudres. Montmagny is fairly near the railway station, but the other places are on the river front and a drive of a mile or two is necessary from each station to reach a town.

Baie St. Paul, on the north shore, is a place of call for the St. Lawrence steamboats, and is within easy reach of Quebec. In a country where the grandeur of nature is visible on every hand, it is difficult to do justice to all the beautiful sights without seeming to overpraise them. And yet in this romantic little resort is a wealth of beauty that must be seen if all that is lovely in nature is not to be slighted. It is French through and through, and therefore delightful. Looking up the valleys of the two rivers, Gouffre and Moulin, there is a fine view of a mountain range that fades away in the far distance in different shades of blue. Following the rapid course of the Gouffre there is a road from which many charming views may be seen. The beautiful groves of trees, the bright cottages, and the water falling over the precipice in long, silvery bands are pleasant features of the landscape. There is a grand view from the top of Cap au Corbeau, after the birds that make this place their haunt have been frightened away. It was off Les Eboulements that Jacques Cartier’s three little vessels, the _Grande Hermine_, _Petite Hermine_ and _Emerillon_, anchored in the bay, near the end of Isle aux Coudres, when he made his second voyage to the West.

Isle aux Coudres is even more French than Baie St. Paul. Here Jacques Cartier landed on his second voyage to New France. He gave to the island the name it has since retained, a name derived from the numerous hazel trees he found here. It is recorded that in 1663 a mountain was lifted by an earthquake and cast bodily over the water on to this island. It was thus made much larger than before. At present the inhabitants are content with their acreage, and have no desire for further additions of this kind. A survival of the old Norman life is here, and for this and the view of island and mainland it is worth a visit. Small white whales are often caught near here in great abundance.

A quartette of famous north-shore resorts is brought within pleasant reach by the Canadian Government Steamship _Champlain_. There is a hotel here where people from nearby places stay in the summer time to enjoy the cool river air. The steamship _Champlain_ leaves the wharf twice daily for north-shore resorts, making connection on its return with trains going east and west each morning and afternoon. On Sundays the boat goes to and returns from Pointe à Pic only, but as the other resorts are only a few miles from that place, it is easy to reach them by carriage. Stopping at Rivière Ouelle Junction, taking the train there to the wharf and boarding the smart river steamship, an enjoyable run of about sixteen miles brings up at St. Irénée, from which place the _Champlain_ passes on eastward to Pointe à Pic and Murray Bay, and thence to Cap à l’Aigle. On alternate trips the order of calls is reversed; the _Champlain_ proceeding first to Cap à l’Aigle and then going west calls in inverse order at the other points.

The four resorts are entirely different in character, and to some extent in scenery. The name Murray Bay is frequently applied to the whole district reaching from Pointe à Pic to Murray Bay, a distance of about three miles. This causes some confusion in addressing and receiving letters, and it is well to remember that the steamboat landing is at Pointe à Pic, that the Manoir Richelieu, most of the hotels, and the heart of the resort, all within easy driving distance of the wharf, are included in the Pointe à Pic postal district; while the name Murray Bay properly belongs to the postal district surrounding the old village on the Murray Bay River some three miles distant.

Pointe à Pic is a beautiful summer resort much in favor with wealthy people. It is decidedly fashionable in its general tone, and there are many handsome residences and bungalows on the heights and down along the cliffs and sloping fields of the Bay shore. Carriage-driving, tennis, golf and boating are the chief amusements. Murray Bay, by which is meant the old French village near the river bridge, is a quaint place, less fashionable, much more compact and town-like, and where the hotels—smaller and not so expensive as those at Pointe à Pic—are in the midst of the busy little main street, but within a stone’s throw of the open country on both sides of the river. St. Irénée is smaller and quieter than either of the foregoing places. It is about six miles south of Pointe à Pic. Here a delightful life may be enjoyed at a quiet family hotel right on the beach, in the midst of a charming country side for walks and rambles. Cap à l’Aigle is the quietest resort of all. It is about three miles east of Murray Bay. There are no hotels, but the roomy farm houses on the cliffs have been adapted for the reception of visitors, and the summer life is altogether rural and free from fashion’s trammels.

1. Habitant’s House 2. Where the Brook Meets the Tide

Pointe à Pic is gay, lively and fashionable; Murray Bay, town-like and not lonely; St. Irénée, a beach resort for quiet people who take with them their own amusements; while Cap à l’Aigle is suited for those who like farm and country life, with good air and walks along the cliffs and through country fields. Pointe à Pic and Murray Bay are nearly connected; and as St. Irénée and Cap à l’Aigle are just a few miles south and east, there is plenty of occupation, even for those who live in the quiet outer resorts; for the St. Lawrence steamboats call at all the wharves, and it is easy to go from one place to the other by steamer, as well as by carriage. Summer costumes from nearly every part of the world make gay the long wharf at Pointe à Pic, and with the hundreds of carriages drawn up for the reception of visitors and guests arriving by steamer the scene is animating, lively and full of interest.

The scenery of St. Irénée is very fine. The shore is green and fresh. There are no unsightly landslides, and no bare rock. The elevation is a bold one, with high mountains behind fading into grey and blue. The gentle-sloping shore dotted with white cottages runs to a point at the south that is shaped like the bastion of a fort. The shore is of rock and gravel, with sand in some places. A stone road extends along the shore and makes a pleasant promenade. A short distance from the wharf, north and south—in fact directly at the wharf—is the open country where the _habitants_ still live the simple life of other days. St. Irénée is essentially a summer place—there is neither town nor village. The main road to Pointe à Pic makes a very enjoyable course for a country ramble, as it abounds in by-roads and quiet paths that lead through hill and dale where may be heard the merry music of many a dashing cascade and sprightly rill. The bungalows are all prettily placed at varying heights—always in choice spots that command a direct view of the water and shore. There is no obtruding village life, and no place where ‘shopping’ may be done. All the signs of life are contributed by the summer residents. There is little or no formality. Ladies and children lounge on the hotel piazza, saunter along the hillside and country roads, or form sociable groups on the shore as they do fancy-work and sewing, or write letters—the children taking their fill of pleasure from the shore with spade and pail.

A few tied-up schooners float lazily at the wharf, awaiting their next period of activity. River steamboats between Quebec, Murray Bay and Tadousac call here, and it is also a port of call for the Government Steamship _Champlain_.

The pleasant residences of the Forget family are prominent on the shelving hillside. The balustraded promenade, high up, with its projecting bastion or observation terrace, its garden, walks, seats and prettily arranged grounds, is a delightful point from which to enjoy a commanding view of the shore, the wharf and the broad vista of waters. A short walk from each end of the main or shore promenade brings out at little hamlets or groupings of cottages of the native residents. They present many points of interest for visitors, and pleasant rambles may thus be enjoyed by those who would see how quaint a life the people of remote parts in this province still enjoy.

A short distance to the north of the wharf there is a fine stretch of clean sand, backed by rocks and turf. There are generally low piles of newly-sawn lumber, stacked up near the wharf end of this beach, where children may have jolly times playing ‘hide-and-seek,’ or climbing and building houses on the shore from drift-wood, ‘ends’ and cuttings. A walk of but half a mile leads to the attractive little stream that here falls into the St. Lawrence, and meets real waves as it plunges into its seaward goal. Across the little stream the stray logs that have grounded, the rocks, the cottages on the hill, the rustling trees, the soaring height of the near-hills, the bright green of the small point, the darker green of the great cape beyond, the dim outline of the far-away mountain range and the broad stretch of cool waters dotted with gracefully floating vessels; all these make ideal summer surroundings. It is a pleasant spot. A great charm for many will be the simplicity of all, unspoiled by crowds—fashion left out. Children may here realize all the joys of early youth; and adults, as they rest on the beach, will live over again the joyous days of the care-free long ago. Few who roam the delightful strand would know it was not the seashore. It is salt water, of course; and it may be called an inner sea without the decided range of temperature experienced on the open Atlantic coast.