Chapter VII: Part 7

The Indians, as formerly observed, retain in general their original fashion of dress; but instead of composing it entirely of the skins of wild animals, they have adopted, as more commodious, materials of English manufacture. For the outer covering or great coat, a blanket is decidedly preferred; the shirt beneath is chiefly of calico or printed cotton; the leggings and pouches of common cloths. The gartering, of gaudy colours, serves for binding and ornamental borders. The moccasins only, an article so extremely suited to their habits, cannot be composed of any better material than their own deer-skin. When, however, any particular piece of finery strikes their fancy, they eagerly seek to procure it, and combine it, often fantastically, with their old habiliments. The vicinity of Europeans, where it does not induce the destructive habit of intoxication, affords them various means for bettering their condition. A ready sale for venison, wild ducks, and other feathered game, and for the fish which they spear, is found among settlers who have themselves little leisure for angling or the chase. The skins and furs also of the animals caught by them are readily bought by the merchants. The women make baskets, trays, and other utensils, of birch-bark, and sometimes of the inner rind of the bass-wood and white ash, which, when ornamented with porcupine quills, dyed in beautiful colours, form elegant articles of furniture. Their moccasins, similarly adorned, are often purchased by Europeans for winter use. They cannot, however, be depended upon for making or procuring any article to order. They produce and bring their commodities to market when it suits their own convenience; and they are disposed to drive a pretty hard bargain, especially the females, on whom that task usually devolves. The converted Indians are said to display a simple, fervent, and sincere devotion. They pay a particular regard to the sanctity of the sabbath; and while singing hymns on the evening of that day, their rich soft voices, rising on the still air, are extremely sweet. This principle of piety, having produced the valuable fruit of inducing them to renounce the ruinous habit of intoxication, has made a most happy change in their condition; and since the evils incident to the savage have thus been removed, perhaps the admirer of the picturesque in human life may not feel impatient for that thorough amalgamation with Europeans, which some of their friends ardently desire. They may be willing that some trace should still survive of the peculiar costume, aspect, and occupations of this remarkable aboriginal race.

The means of religious instruction in Lower Canada have long existed on a liberal scale. The great majority of the inhabitants, as formerly observed, are French Roman Catholics. They support their clergy by a contribution of a twenty-sixth part of the produce of their lands, which does not, however, as has been sometimes represented, form a compulsory assessment, since Protestant converts may discontinue payment. This affords to upwards of 200 _vicaires_ and _curés_ an average income of 300_l._ per annum, which, in Canada, is very liberal. They are described as respectable in character and attainments, very attentive to their parishioners, and extremely beloved by them. They have been accused as hostile to the diffusion of knowledge, yet no mention is made of any opposition made by them to the late remarkable spread of elementary schools. The bishop, who has under him two coadjutors and four vicars-general, receives from government a stipend of 1,000_l._ a-year. There are also monastic establishments, containing upwards of 300 monks and nuns. The English church has assigned for its support a seventh of all the lands unoccupied by the _habitans_, and formed into townships. This proportion appears large, and has even been complained of as such, yet it has not hitherto produced any great revenue. The clergy of this church are at present forty in number, at the head of whom is the bishop of Quebec, with a stipend of 1,000_l._ a-year. There are fourteen Presbyterian ministers connected with the church of Scotland, partly paid by government; and also twelve Methodists of the Wesleyan persuasion.

Upper Canada, as already hinted, was long miserably destitute of the means of religious instruction. In 1800, according to Mr. Talbot, there were only three clergymen in the country; in 1819 they had increased to ten; and in 1824 were still only sixteen. Since that time effective measures have been taken to supply this great deficiency. There are now forty-three clergymen belonging to the English established church; and two archdeacons, at Toronto and Kingston, subject to the bishop of Quebec, have each 300_l._ a-year. The remainder of the clergy received, in 1835, an income of 6,784_l._ 11_s._ 8_d._, of which 5,484_l._ 18_s._ was defrayed from the proceeds of the ecclesiastical reserves, which, as in Lower Canada, consist of one-seventh of the uncultivated lands; the rest was paid out of the crown revenue. The Catholics have twenty-four priests, of whom the bishop, bearing the title of Regiopolis, has 500_l._; the rest receive 1,000_l._ annually, divided among them, out of the public purse. From the same fund were paid, in 1835, to the ministers of the church of Scotland, 1,586_l._; to those of the Presbyterian synod of Upper Canada 700_l._; 171_l._ was granted to the fund for building Catholic churches; 550_l._ was given for the same purpose to the Scottish church; and 550_l._ to the Wesleyan Methodists. From this fund was also allowed 2,344_l._ 11_s._ 8_d._ for missionaries of the Church of England. There are said to be also twenty-eight Methodist and forty or fifty Baptist churches, which appear to be supported by the congregations.

The means even of the most common education were long extremely deficient in Canada. This want was equally felt in the lower province, where the Catholic clergy, though diligent in their religious ministrations, either opposed or did nothing to forward elementary instruction. They particularly interfered to prevent attendance on the schools organized in 1817, by what was termed the Royal Institution, as being chiefly under the management of Church of England clergymen. In 1829, however, the legislature voted for this object 6,439_l._, which was gradually increased to upwards of 20,000_l._ In that year the number of scholars was 14,753, of whom only about a third paid fees. In 1835, the number of free scholars had risen to 72,498, of those paying to 25,160; showing thus a wonderful increase both in the gross number and in the proportion of those who defrayed their own charges. In 1836, however, the vote of the House of Assembly for this patriotic purpose was negatived by the Legislative Council, a step which seems not unworthy of the severe animadversions made on it by the popular leaders. The council stated that their motive was to induce the people to contribute more towards the education of their families. This was admitted to be desirable as an ultimate object; but it could not justify the abrupt withdrawal of the means by which nearly 40,000 children were educated, without allowing time or even legal authority to substitute any other.

In Upper Canada, also, the government is making great exertions to remove that cloud of ignorance in which the country was once involved. A college at Toronto is supported on a liberal footing. There are also grammar schools in every district, to the teachers of which 100_l._ yearly is allowed by the legislature. The scholars attending them amount in all to about 350. The sum of 7,380_l._ also was granted in 1835 for the support of common schools, estimated to amount to several hundreds, and to educate about 20,000 children. In the same year, the legislature voted 180_l._ and 90_l._ to the Mechanics’ Institutes at Toronto and Kingston.

CHAP. V.

IMPRESSIONS OF CANADA ON TRAVELLERS.

* * * * *

Among the various books on Canada, there is none which seems to us written with a more friendly, fair, and philanthropic spirit than that of Mr. Hodgson, who was there in 1822. A great part of his large volume is occupied with his rambles in the United States; but from that which is strictly Canadian, we extract the following interesting letters:—

“Soon after I had finished my letter on board the steam-boat, we
stopped near the mouth of the Genessee river, to give us the
opportunity of seeing Rochester and its vicinity. Stages had
been previously sent for, in which we proceeded to Rochester,
nine miles distant. On our way we stopped to see the lower falls
of the Genessee river, and Carthage bridge. This wooden bridge
is now in ruins. When perfect, it must have been extremely
beautiful. It was a single arch, whose span was about 350 feet
wide, and its extreme height above the surface of the river 196
feet. It gave way from the slightness of its materials,
immediately after two children had crossed it. A short distance
above it are the falls of the Genessee, which appeared to me to
bear a strong resemblance to those of the Clyde. At Rochester we
found a handsome mill, and every symptom of a thriving town.
Instead of ‘cash store’ being painted over the shops, as in most
towns of the United States, to tell the customers that the
shopkeepers sell only for cash, while they may almost be induced
to sell even a thimble on credit; ‘here cash _given_ for wheat,’
‘cash _given_ for, &c. &c.’ was the usual motto. We learnt also,
that the town was blessed by the absence of a bank, while in the
smallest American town I had been accustomed to find banks the
first objects which presented themselves—the Farmer’s Bank, the
Merchant’s Bank, the Planter’s Bank, the Mechanic’s Bank, the
Franklin Bank, the Patriotic Bank, &c. &c. with their various
combinations, had met my eye more or less in every village. We
embarked again about two o’clock, and in the morning by
day-light found ourselves at Sacket’s Harbour, of which we heard
so much during the war. It is a noble natural harbour, and the
place where the American ships employed on the lakes were built
so rapidly. Many of them are now rotting under wooden covers.
There is one half finished, _said_ to be longer than our largest
ship of the line, covered with a wooden shade, which itself, our
conductor told us, cost 7,000_l._ This immense vessel, so far
inland, on the banks of a lake, was a singular sight, and
excited some incongruous ideas.

“We sailed again soon after breakfast, and in the morning (9th)
found ourselves at Ogdensburgh, about 260 miles from Niagara,
which we had left on the 6th. The preceding afternoon we had
entered the St. Lawrence, and I had been much delighted with our
sail through that expanse of it which is called the Lake of the
Thousand Islands. In reality, there are more than 2,000, of
every size and form, and a lovely afternoon exhibited them in
all their beauty. As we glided past them, on the smooth surface
of the St. Lawrence, I thought I had never beheld a scene which
so nearly realized my ideas of enchantment. The banks of the
river as we proceeded were rather less wild and interesting than
I had expected.

“At Ogdensburgh, which is said to belong principally to Mr.
Parish, who is endeavouring to settle a tract of land in the
vicinity, we breakfasted at a large stone tavern, which he has
built, and then prepared in high spirits to descend the Rapids.
For this purpose we hired a long boat, which would accommodate
the whole party, and which, with 25 people on board and their
baggage, and 25 barrels of flour for ballast, was said to draw
only eight inches of water. We set sail about ten o’clock, and
in four hours and a few minutes had been carried 48 miles down
the stream, in the course of which we had passed the first three
rapids, one of which was half a mile, another two, and another
about nine miles long. We always discerned them at a great
distance, the dashing of the white foam resembling the tossing
of the ocean; and as we approached them our velocity gradually
increased, till we were carried by the stream at the rate of 14
or 15 miles an hour. When we got into the middle of the surges,
our velocity, though still great, was checked by the eddies and
by waves which frequently struck the bottom of the boat with
great force; and from the appearance of the troubled waters, it
seemed difficult for a boat to live. The confidence of the
boatmen, however, checked our apprehensions, and our ladies
behaved extremely well. The most alarming appearance was that of
pointed rocks, which, from the transparency of the water, seemed
to rise almost to the surface, and to threaten inevitable
destruction. As I stood on the bow, I saw combinations of rocks,
towards which we were hurried with impetuosity, and which it
seemed impossible our boat could pass without striking. In some
of the Rapids there were channels, called lost channels, from
the accidents which had happened in them, and into which our
boatmen had to guard against our being carried. The river varies
from three-fourths of a mile to two miles in width; and although
there are no mountains near, (the green mountains of Vermont
were often in sight at a distance,) the white pine and cedar
gave a picturesque appearance to its banks, and a resemblance to
the river views in Norway or Sweden. One of the most singular
sensations we experienced, was that of sailing many miles
perceptibly _down hill_. Soon after passing the third rapid, the
St. Lawrence expanded into a wide lake—the Lake of St. Francis.
There we lost our wind and stream, and were obliged to have
recourse to our oars. The evening was now closing in, and a
violent thunder-storm brought on a premature darkness; but the
ladies enlivened us by singing the Canadian Boat-Song, ‘Row,
brothers, row, &c.’ which transported me to ——, where I have
so often heard it.

“About ten o’clock, we made towards a light which we saw on the
shore, and landed a committee of inquiry, who reported so
unfavourably of the miserable cabin from which it issued, that
we determined to proceed, tired as the ladies were. Our scouts
informed us, that they had found in the cabin four or five
Canadians, dancing to a sleeping fiddler, whose music ceased as
soon as they awoke him. A mile or two further, we found a better
house, where we called the family up, and, with the help of our
well-bred and efficient ladies, some gunpowder tea they had with
them, some milk that was obtained from a cow that was awakened
for the purpose, and the services of my servant, we sat down, a
party of twenty, to a tolerably comfortable meal. When the
ladies were about to retire, they found there was no door to
their chamber, but they supplied the deficiency with a sheet.
The gentlemen lay on blankets, in a sort of barrack room; but I
found the fleas so annoying, that I got up and sat at the door
of the house. I should have enjoyed the clear night after the
storm, and the placid lake, if I had been less tired and sleepy;
but wearied as I was, I was very glad to see the day break. Our
gunpowder tea made its appearance again at five o’clock; after
which we embarked, passing the remaining rapids, (the Cedars,
the Split Rock, and the Cascades, as they are called,) and the
mouth of the Ottawa River; and, being becalmed in the fine lake,
St. Louis, we arrived at night at La Chine, about 150 miles from
Ogdensburgh, which we had left the preceding morning. As we
approached La Chine, the houses and villages on the banks of the
river and lake assumed a much more comfortable appearance; but
of the Canadians in my next letter.

“Some of our party staid all night at La Chine, but several of
my friends and myself proceeded to Montreal in a wretched
vehicle, for which I was obliged to apologize to my American
companions, by reminding them that it was only a colonial, and
that there were parts of our colonial system which none of us
attempted to defend. We met some miserable _calèches_, of which
I was ashamed even as colonials; and I was compelled to repress
the rising smiles of the party, by suggesting to their
recollection, that, after all, we were still in America and not
in England. After riding nine miles, almost in the dark, we
entered the faubourg of Montreal, and jolted along a narrow
street a mile long, which my companions, accustomed to the
spacious streets in America, supposed to be an alley, though it
is the principal street. At the end of it we stopped at the
Mansion-house, a very fine inn; and here I was not ashamed to
welcome my companions to the dominions of his Britannic Majesty.

“The Mansion-house is situated on the banks of the St. Lawrence,
which its handsome apartments overlook, and which is here almost
two and a half miles broad. The windows of our room open upon a
fine terrace, from which there is a charming and extensive view
of the distant country. In the evening this is a very favourite
promenade with the inmates of the house.

“I am delighted to sit down once more under the British flag,
which is waving over us, for Lord Dalhousie, the governor, is
staying in the house; and I am gratified by the sight of our own
red coats, who have mounted guard.”

“_Montreal, 23d August, 1822._

“I have just received your letter of the 19th ult. The uncommon
cold of the last winter, and the unusual heat of the present
summer, appear, in some degree, to have extended to you.
Individually, I am not sorry to have the opportunity of
experiencing, in the course of the year I have passed in
America, a range of temperature beyond even the ordinary limits
of the country. The great and sudden changes, however, continue
to strike me more than even extremes of cold and heat, so much
beyond those we experience in England. After a week of the
hottest weather they have had here this summer, (the other
morning the thermometer was currently reported, and I believe
correctly, to be 98° of Fahrenheit in the shade,) thin clothes
of every description have disappeared; and last night, when I
sat down to write to you, I found it too cold to proceed. The
oppressive heat of the summer here, and in the United States, is
alleviated, in some degree, by the liberal use of ice. We see it
in every form, and use it with the utmost profusion. The butter
regularly comes to table with a fine thick transparent piece of
ice upon it; large pieces are generally floating in the water
jugs at dinner, or in your chambers; and it is often handed
round on plates, in small pieces, to be used at dinner. The plan
of preserving ice in this country, and the United States, is
much more simple than with us, and, I have no doubt, more
judicious, as, notwithstanding the superior heat of the climate,
it is so much more cheap and plentiful. Almost every farmer has
his ice-house.

“I have already given you some account of our sail down the
Rapids. It was extremely pleasant; and although we were becalmed
for many hours, we descended on the St. Lawrence in less than
two days, a distance which the boatmen seldom reascend in less
than nine or ten, even with the occasional assistance of locks
at the side of the river. I am surprised we hear so little of
this noble river. It is computed, I do not know with what
accuracy, to discharge one-half more water than the Mississippi.
Its depth between Ogdensburgh and La Chine (130 miles) seldom
varies more than three feet in the course of a year; while the
Mississippi was falling one foot each day when I ascended it.
The St. Lawrence is much clearer than the Mississippi, and its
current much more rapid; so rapid, indeed, that the Lake Erie
steam-boat, which has been in operation for three years, has not
been able to ascend from Black Rock to Lake Erie more than twice
without twelve oxen. The banks of the St. Lawrence do not
present the rich and beautiful cultivation which adorns the
banks of the Mississippi in Louisiana; but if they do not
exhibit extensive and highly-dressed plantations of sugar and
cotton, or the magnificent forest trees peculiar to the south
and west, the prospect is never blackened by a range of
miserable slave-cabins, or gangs of negroes working like cattle
in the field. I cannot describe to you the pleasure I derived
from contrasting the various scenes through which I am passing
with each other, they have so many peculiar features, and all so
highly interesting.

“It is remarkable, that, rising from the same table-land, and so
intimately connected by intersecting branches, which
occasionally flow into each other during periods of inundation,
the Mississippi and the St. Lawrence present the most striking
contrast in their general features. Many of these are mentioned
in the observations I will copy for you from Darby; but others,
not much less interesting, might be added.

“‘The Mississippi is turbid, in many parts to muddiness; the St.
Lawrence unusually limpid. One river is composed of almost an
unbroken chain of lakes; the other, in all its vast expanse, has
no lakes that strictly deserve the name. Annually the
Mississippi overleaps its bed, and overwhelms the adjacent
shores to a great extent; an accidental rise of three feet, in
the course of fifty years, is considered an extraordinary swell
of the waters of St. Lawrence; this circumstance has occurred
the present season for the first time within the lapse of forty
years past. The Mississippi, flowing from north to south, passes
through innumerable climes; whilst its rival, winding from its
source, in a south-east direction, to near north latitude 41°,
turns gradually north-east, and again flows into its original
climate of ice and snow. The Mississippi, before its final
discharge into the Gulf of Mexico, divides into a number of
branches, having their separate egress; the St. Lawrence
imperceptibly expands to a wide bay, which finally opens into
the gulf of the same name. The banks of the Mississippi present
a level, scarce rising above the superior surface of that
stream; those of St. Lawrence, by a gentle acclivity, exhibit
the opposing sides of an elegant basin. Much of the surface
watered by the Mississippi is a region of grass, where few
shrubs or trees rise to break the monotony of the face of the
earth; the shores that bound the St. Lawrence, when in a state
of nature, are covered with an almost continuous and impervious
forest. And, lastly, though rather an accidental than a natural
distinction, the Mississippi rolls its mighty volume, swelled by
more than a thousand rivers, through one empire; and is, as I
once before observed, the largest stream on this globe, whose
entire course lies within one sovereignty. The St. Lawrence is,
for more than 1,300 miles, a national limit, and, as such,
marked with the sanguinary points which distinguish the bounds
of rival power.’

“We arrived here on the 10th, as you would learn from my last
letter. On the 11th, I was awakened by the matin-bells of the
different catholic churches; and while my steam-boat companions
went to see the _Lions_, I set out to deliver my letters of
introduction, and soon found that the mornings of the ensuing
week would be entirely occupied by commercial engagements, and
the evenings with dinner-parties; for the merchants are very
hospitable. On the 12th, I was left alone, all the party at the
Mansion-house, with whom I was intimate, having proceeded to
Quebec. On their return, in a few days, I was a little more at
leisure, and accompanied them to the nunneries. The ‘Grey
Sisters’ admitted us; but the ‘Black Sisters’ expressed their
regret, in the politest French, that their devotional
engagements would prevent them from seeing us till the following
Thursday.

“On the 17th, there was a grand levée held here, (in a spacious
room in our inn,) as Lord and Lady Dalhousie, with their suite,
were paying a short visit to Montreal. I attended, and was duly
presented. The Governor and Countess gave great satisfaction;
but I hear many apprehensions expressed, that his lordship will
not incur the responsibility which the Duke of Richmond is said
never to have hesitated to assume, in acting first and sending
for instructions afterwards. It was about this time last year
that the Duke left this house, a few days before his melancholy
death up the country. I was told, that on the day he had fixed
for his return he was brought into the house a corpse; and on
the subsequent day, which had been appointed for his levée, a
large concourse of the gentlemen of Montreal attended his coffin
to the vessel which carried him away. His loss is deeply
regretted. Sir Peregrine Maitland, his son-in-law, the Governor
of Upper Canada, and Lady Maitland, are much respected; and, I
understand, are doing much for the promotion of religion in the
newly settled districts in their neighbourhood.

“The bishop of Canada preached at the church I attended on
Sunday; and, as I was returning home, a veteran soldier of
General Wolfe’s army was pointed out, in his scarlet uniform.

“I have had a few rides into the country in the neighbourhood,
which is very beautiful. I have also met most of the principal
merchants at dinner during my stay. On these occasions I am
always gratified by the allusions I continually hear to home.
‘At home, we do so and so;’ ‘Mr. ——’s carriage is just arrived
from home;’ ‘Here are some biscuits from home; fresh from
Threadneedle-street, where I always get them.’

“In the streets, however, there were many peculiarities to
remind us that we were not at home. More than three-fourths of
the inhabitants are said to be catholics; and the bells of the
cathedral are never at rest. The priests, who are the seigniors
of the island, are very rich; but they are said to be
charitable, moral, and by no means luxurious. Our young friends
would be amused by the numerous dog-carts, the dogs in gig or
tandem harness, in every part of the town, and by the _calèches_
of the last century, which would serve as a foil for a north of
England shandan. A considerable number of Indians are usually
walking the streets with moccasins for sale; and I saw several
on the river-side, a mile distant, in wigwams, of which their
birch canoe formed a principal part. The town is most agreeably
situated, and there is an air of industry and animation in the
inhabitants; and yet, occasionally, the narrow streets and iron
window-shutters excite a sensation of gloominess, of which I
cannot readily divest myself till I return to our cheerful inn,
where the arrival and departure of steam-boats occasion a
constant succession of guests. Our party at table, which
dwindled to six, rose, two days since, suddenly to sixty, all
fugitives, as those who are not on business seldom allot above
two days to this part of their tour. As the friends with whom I
am most intimate have been detained since their return from
Quebec, by the want of a steam-boat, I have been very well off,
having access to their three drawing-rooms, with an agreeable
female party in each. Our host, although a Londoner, and
adopting London hours, accommodates himself by pursuing the
American plan of compelling us to eat at a common table; but the
style of the house is admirable, and we can obtain private
sitting-rooms. One of those occupied by our party is that which
Lord Selkirk usually occupied while here, and often recalls him
to my recollection. All I hear, and I have conversed with many
of both parties on the subject, has only served to confirm my
previous impressions with respect to the treatment which he
received; in some instances, too, in quarters where it was least
excusable, and at the hands of those from whom every British
subject was entitled to demand impartiality. In an hour we are
going on board the Swiftsure steam-boat for Quebec, and I am
glad to find that several of my acquaintances will be of the
party.”

“Steam-boat, on the St. Lawrence, August 28th, 1820.

“I began this letter at Montreal, on board the Swiftsure
steam-boat. This is probably the finest steam-boat which has
been built, and I was proud to see her under the British flag;
the Americans readily conceded her superior claims. The style of
living and attendance is more like that of a good hotel, at the
west end of London, than any thing I have seen on this side of
the Atlantic, notwithstanding the handsome style of some of the
American hotels, and the comfort of some of the boarding-houses.
There is an ice-house on board, and the owner supplies her table
with grapes and peaches from his own garden.

“I often feel a strange sensation, when gliding down the
American rivers, in these floating palaces; and have sometimes
turned away almost ashamed, when bearing down in all this
ostentatious luxury on the poor half-naked Indians, in their
birch canoes, struggling to reach the shores on which their
fathers roamed fearless and independent.

“We left Montreal about noon on the 22d, and for sixty miles
averaged thirteen miles an hour. The banks of the river, which
is from one and a half to three miles broad, though too flat to
be romantic, till you approach within thirty miles of Quebec,
are interesting, from the white cottages, which seem to form one
continued village, and the neat churches, of which two or three
are often in sight at once; the spires are usually covered with
tin, and have a very dazzling appearance.

“The cottages have originally been placed at equal distances
from each other, the farms having been laid off, with a front of
a given length to the river; but the Canadian custom of dividing
the farm between the children of the deceased (more congenial
with their indolence than striking deeper into the woods) has
broken uniformity by repeated and often inconvenient
subdivisions. A mass of deep woods usually bounds the farms, at
the distance of a few acres from the river.

“The navigation on Lake St. Peter is so difficult, that we were
obliged to lie at anchor all night. On the 23d, we passed the
Three Rivers, a handsome town, on the three mouths of a
respectable river; and at five o’clock in the evening arrived at
Quebec, 180 miles from Montreal. As we approached the town we
passed close under the plains of Abraham, and the precipitous
rocks which our gallant hero scaled; and after straining our
eyes to reach the fortifications, which seem to frown
destruction to any hostile force which might have the temerity
to approach, we were pleased, on looking round us, to find
ourselves in the middle of British shipping. I cannot tell you
with what satisfaction I renewed my acquaintance with old
Cumberland brigs, which in England I should not condescend to
notice. As soon as we landed, an English friend and I procured a
calèche, and drove off to the Falls of Montmorency, nine miles
distant, which we reached just at sunset. Our beautiful summer
evening closed in upon us before we had seen the Falls from the
most favourable situation. The full moon, however, soon rose,
and threw her light upon the broken torrent, which precipitates
itself from a height of 220 feet, while the dark shadows of the
rocks and trees, which overhang the waters below, contributed
greatly to heighten the grandeur of the scene. Our conductor was
an interesting little peasant girl, nine years of age, whose
pretty French was most agreeable. The ride home was delightful,
the full moon ‘walking in brightness,’ and throwing her
horizontal rays across the river as she rose. The fortresses of
Quebec were constantly in sight, and did, indeed, seem
impregnable by human force. It would be difficult even to
imagine a more commanding site, and I could not help admiring
the skill with which the French had chosen their northern post,
which they evidently intended to connect with New Orleans, by a
series of intermediate forts, which might confine the British
within a narrow strip on the Atlantic. Reflections on their
system of policy were the more interesting to me, from having so
lately visited the southern extremity of their trans-Atlantic
dominions, and having in the interval passed through so many of
the immense forests which lie between them. We stopped at
Malhrot’s, the best inn in Quebec; but an unwillingness to
intrude on the present occupiers of my bed decided me to prefer
a chair, in which I sat till after three o’clock, looking on the
beautiful moonlight prospect before me. At five o’clock we set
out in a calèche on our way to Loretto, an Indian village of the
Hurons, nine miles from Quebec. They have a neat catholic
church, and speak French; but, from what I could gather from the
chief, they have no land, and support themselves by fishing and
hunting. In that case they are not so well off as my friends the
Choctaws and Cherokees, or the Caughnawagas, whom we saw nine
miles from Montreal, who have a handsome catholic church, and
cultivate the land.

“In the course of our ride we were often reminded of home by the
rich little meadows and thickly settled country on every side.
The distant mountains were very fine. We reached our inn at nine
o’clock, having accomplished, after six o’clock the preceding
night, what usually occupies two days. After breakfast I devoted
myself to business; and, declining an invitation from Judge ——
to accompany him to the ‘military mess’ to dinner, I set off to
the Falls of the Chaudière, seven miles distant, intending to
drink tea on our return with a gentleman who lives on the way.
It was so dark, however, when we reached his house, five or six
miles from Quebec, and had begun to rain so heavily, that we
thankfully accepted his offer of a bed. The Falls of the
Chaudière were highly interesting, even after Niagara. In the
deep seclusion of a thick wood, the river, nearly 250 yards
wide, precipitates itself a hundred feet into a rocky channel,
which appears to have been rent asunder by some dreadful
convulsion of nature, by which the rock has been broken into
huge masses, that combine with the surrounding objects to impart
an air of most magnificent wildness to this extraordinary scene.
On our return we had several fine views of Quebec down the
river.

“The next day we went into town early, and I was again engaged
in business till afternoon, when I walked round the
fortifications with my old military friend and his wife. At five
o’clock I went to dine at Judge ——’s, where I met several
gentlemen, and where I staid till it was nearly time to embark
in the steam-boat, which was to set sail at midnight for
Montreal.

“I think you will be amused by the following extract from the
journal of one of my fellow-travellers, who left me at Montreal
to visit Quebec, and on his return found on board the steam-boat
one of the Indian chiefs, belonging to the village of Loretto,
to which I have alluded.

“‘We have on board one of the Indian chiefs who walked in the
procession at Loretto, and his daughter, a genteel young woman.
He speaks the English language. He said he knew General
Washington, and had dined with him twice; and that the general
had made him a present of a very good horse. ‘I told General
Washington,’ said he, ‘that your horse; he tell me to call one
of his aids, and he say, Col. Trumbull, write order for Vincent,
(that my name,) for that horse; so I keep him. He very good
horse.’ The story of the horse was thus explained. Vincent
commanded a body of Indians at the capture of Burgoyne, and was
made a prisoner with that general. The horse had been taken by
him from the Americans; and hence he called him not his own, but
Washington’s. This information I obtained from others on board.
Taking me aside, he said, ‘I saw you Loretto.’ _C._ ‘I was
there, and saw you walking at the head of the procession.’ _V._
‘Yes, I walk.’ _C._ ‘What was that the priest carried?’ _V._
‘What religion you?’ _C._ ‘I am a protestant.’ _V._ ‘Then you
very good man; priest carry image Virgin Mary. This is all
nonsense. He tell us poor Indians we must believe, or be
condemned, that Virgin Mary was taken up into heaven—soul and
body; you believe that?’ _C._ ‘I do not understand it: what is
your opinion?’ _V._ ‘I do not believe; I do not read that in
Scripture. Priest tell us poor ignorant Indians that we must
worship her, and saints, and images. I do not find that in
Scripture neither; but I read, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy
God, and him only shalt thou worship. Thou shalt make no graven
image, nor worship them: that my belief. I think it wicked to
worship images; but God is merciful. Priest tell us ignorant
Indians we must have mass; fetch out purgatory our fathers, dead
hundred years ago; and we pay sometimes one, sometimes two
dollars each mass. Brother, you believe there is a purgatory?’
_C._ ‘I have no knowledge of such a place. What is your
opinion?’ _V._ ‘I don’t believe; and tell you my opinion. I
believe if our heart be not purge in this life, it never will
purge.’ On my assenting to his doctrine, he asked, ‘Where do you
think is hell?’ I told him I did not know. Then added he, ‘I’ll
tell you where I think it is: it is in the sun.’ I felt some
surprise at all this; and, asking him where he had been
educated, he replied at Hampshire. He then asked me to drink a
glass of grog; and on my declining, he bid me good bye, and
walked to the forecastle to sip it by himself. On observing a
young Indian on board very attentive to the chief’s daughter, I
told Vincent I supposed this man was courting her; on which he
replied with much warmth, ‘No; him Mohawk.’

“I do not know why he regarded a connexion with the Mohawks as
degrading, for they were members of the celebrated confederation
of the Six Nations—the Iroquois Confederation. The other
members were the Oneidas, the Onondagas, the Cayugas, the
Senecas, and the Tuscaroras.”

It is our wish to assemble pictures of Canada by as many different classes of observers, and during as many different seasons, as is possible. Here are some winter sketches, which are not unentertaining.

“Nothing could be more Siberian than the aspect of the Canadian
frontier; a narrow road, choked with snow, led them through a
wood, in which patches were occasionally cleared on either side
to admit the construction of a few log-huts, round which a brood
of ragged children, a starved pig, and a few half-broken rustic
implements, formed an accompaniment more suited to an Irish
landscape, than to the thriving scenes we had just quitted. The
Canadian peasant is still the same unsophisticated animal whom
we may suppose to have been imported by Jacques Carrier. The
sharp unchangeable lineaments of the French countenance, set off
with a blue or red night-cap, over which is drawn the hood of a
grey capote, fashioned like a monk’s cowl, a red worsted girdle,
hair tied in a greasy leather queue, brown moccasins of
undressed hide, and a short pipe in his mouth, give undeniable
testimony of the presence of Jean Baptiste. His horse seems to
have been equally solicitous to shame neither his progenitors
nor his owner, by any mixture with a foreign race, but exhibits
the same relationship to the horses, as his rider to the
subjects of Louis XIII. Now, too, the frequent cross by the road
side, thick-studded with all the implements of crucifixional
torture, begins to indicate a catholic country: distorted
virgins and ghastly saints decorate each inn room, while the
light spires of the parish church, covered with plates of tin,
glitter across the snowy plain.

“At La Prairie we crossed the ice to Montreal, whose isolated
mountain forms a conspicuous object at the distance of some
leagues. From thence to Quebec, the road follows the course of
the St. Lawrence, whose banks present a succession of villages,
many of them delightfully situated; but all form and feature
were absorbed in the snowy deluge, which now deepened every
league; add to which, the sleigh-track, by frequently running on
the bed of the river, placed us below prospect of every kind. We
found the inns neat, and the people attentive; French politesse
began to be contrasted with American bluntness. It is curious to
observe that this characteristic of the Americans, which so
frequently offends the polished feelings of English travellers,
is exactly what was formerly objected by the French to
ourselves. The ‘rudesse’ of the English character was long a
standing jest with our refined neighbours; but we have now, it
seems, so far shaken off this odious remnant of uncourtly
habits, as to regard it with true French horror in our
trans-Atlantic cousins.

“It was Sunday when we arrived at St. Anne’s; mass was just
finished, and above a hundred sleighs were rapidly dispersing
themselves up the neighbouring heights, and across the bed of
the river, to the adjacent villages. The common country sleigh
is a clumsy box-shaped machine, raised at both ends, perhaps not
greatly unlike the old heroic car. It holds two persons, with
the driver, who stands before them. One horse is commonly
sufficient, but two are used in posting, when the leader is
attached by cords, tandem-wise, and left to use his own
discretion, without the restraint of rein, or impulse of whip.
Should, however, the latter stimulus become indispensable, the
driver jumps from the sleigh, runs forward, applies his
pack-thread lash, and regains his seat without any hazard from
extraordinary increase of impetus. The runners of these sleighs
are formed of two slips of wood, so low that the shafts collect
the snow into a succession of wavy hillocks, properly christened
‘cahots,’ for they almost dislocate your limbs five thousand
times in a day’s journey. An attempt was once made to correct
this evil, by prohibiting all _low runners_, as they are called,
from coming within a certain distance of Quebec; meaning thereby
to force the country people into the use of high runners in the
American fashion. Jean Baptiste, however, sturdily and
effectually resisted this heretical innovation, by halting with
his produce without the limits, and thus compelling the
townspeople to come to him to make their purchases.

“The markets, both of Montreal and Quebec, exhibit several
hundred market sleighs daily. They differ from the pleasure or
travelling sleigh, in having no sides; that is, they consist
merely of a plank bottom, with a kind of railing. Hay and wood
seem the staple commodities at this season, both of which are
immoderately dear, especially at Quebec; even through the
States, the common charge for one horse’s hay for a night was a
dollar. Provisions are brought to market frozen, in which state
they are preserved during the winter; cod-fish is brought from
Boston, a land-carriage of 500 miles, and then sells at a
reasonable rate, the American commonly speculating on a cargo of
smuggled goods back, to make up his profit; a kind of trade
extremely brisk betwixt the frontier and Montreal.

“As we approached Quebec, snow lay to the depth of six feet;
from the heights of Abraham, the eye rested upon what seemed an
immense lake of milk; all smaller irregularities of ground,
fences, boundaries, and copse woods, had disappeared; the tops
of villages, and scattered farm-houses, with here and there dark
lines of pine-wood, and occasionally the mast of some ice-locked
schooner, marking the bed of the Charles river, were the only
objects peering about it. A range of mountains, sweeping round
from west to north, until it meets the St. Lawrence, bounds the
horizon; no herald of spring had yet approached this dreary
outpost of civilization; we had observed a few blue thrushes in
the neighbourhood of Albany, but none had yet reached Canada;
two only of the feathered tribe brave the winter of this
inclement region—the cosmopolite crow, and the snow-bird, a
small white bird, reported to feed upon snow, because it is not
very clear what else it can find.

“It would be acting unfairly to Quebec, to describe it as I
found it on my arrival, choked with ice and snow, which one day
flooded the streets with a profusion of dirty kennels, and the
next cased them with a sheet of glass. Cloth or carpet boots,
galoshes, with spikes to their heels, iron pointed walking
sticks, are the defensive weapons perpetually in employ on these
occasions. The direction of the streets too, which are most of
them built up a precipice, greatly facilitates any inclination
one may entertain for tumbling or neck-breaking.

“The Falls of Montmorency are formed by a little river of that
name, near its junction with the St. Lawrence, about five miles
north of Quebec. They have a peculiar interest in winter, from
the immense cone of ice formed at their foot, which was
unimpaired when I visited them, in the second week of April.
After winding up a short but steep ascent, the road crosses a
wooden bridge, beneath which the Montmorency rushes betwixt its
dark grey rocks, and precipitates itself in a broken torrent
down a wooded glen on the right. It is not until you have wound
round the edge of this glen, which is done by quitting the road
at the bridge-foot, that you obtain a view of the Falls; nor was
their effect lessened by this approach. A partial thaw,
succeeded by a frost, had spread a silvery brightness over the
waste of snow. Every twig and branch of the surrounding
pine-trees, every waving shrub and briar, was encased in
crystal, and glittering to the sun-beams like the diamond forest
of some northern elf-land. You are now on the edge of a
precipice, to which the Fall itself, a perpendicular of 220
feet, seems diminutive; it is not until you descend, and
approach its foot, that the whole majesty of the scene becomes
apparent. The breadth of the torrent is about fifty feet; the
waters, from their prodigious descent, seem snowy-white with
foam, and enveloped in a light drapery of gauzy mist. The cone
appears about a hundred feet in height, mathematically regular
in shape, with its base extending nearly all across the stream;
its sides are not so steep, but that ladies have ascended to the
top of it; the interior is hollow. I regret to add that a mill
is constructing on this river, which will, by diverting the
stream, destroy this imperial sport of nature; or, at least,
reduce it to the degradation of submitting to be played off at
the miller’s discretion, like a Versailles fountain.

“Towards the end of April, the townspeople begin, according to a
law of the province, to break up the ice and snow from before
their doors; and by the first week in May the streets are
tolerably clear. The intermediate state, as may be supposed, is
a perfect chaos, through which the stumbling pedestrian, like
the arch-fiend of old—

‘Pursues his way,
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps.’

Meanwhile, the landscape begins to exchange its snowy mantle for
a russet brown. A few wild-fowl and woodcocks, with some small
birds, cautiously make their appearance; the sheltered bottoms
of the pine-woods throw out the earliest flowers; the St.
Lawrence and Charles rivers become gradually disburthened of
ice, and enlivened by the gliding sail; still, however, the foot
of spring seems lingering; the mists, exhaled by the warmth of
the sun, frequently encounter the keen north-west, and are again
precipitated in heavy snow showers; snow still blocks up the
roads, and fills the dells and ditches, sheltered from the
influence of the sun, thus preserving the gloomy aspect of
winter through the month of May.

“The town, or rather city, of Quebec, is built on the northern
extremity of a narrow strip of high land, which follows the
course of the St. Lawrence, for several miles, to its confluence
with the Charles. The basis of this height is a dark slate rock,
of which most of the buildings in the town are constructed. Cape
Diamond terminates the promontory, with a bold precipice towards
the St. Lawrence, to which it is nearly perpendicular, at the
height of 320 feet. It derives its name from the crystals of
quartz found in it, which are so abundant, that, after a shower,
the ground glitters with them. The lower town is built round the
foot of these heights, without the fortifications, which, with
the upper town, occupy their crest in bleak preeminence: the
former, snug and dirty, is the abode of thriving commerce, and
of most of the lower classes employed about the navy; the
latter, cold and lofty, is the seat of government, and principal
residence of the military; and claims, in consequence, that kind
of superiority which some heads have been said to assert over
the inglorious belly. To speak the truth, neither has much to
boast on the score either of beauty or convenience.

“Among the principal buildings, the government-house, or Castle
of St. Louis, may take precedence, being a thin blue building,
which seems quivering, like a theatrical side-scene, on the
verge of the precipice, towards the St. Lawrence; its front
resembles that of a respectable gentleman’s house in England;
the interior contains comfortable family apartments. For
occasions of public festivity there is another building, on the
opposite side of the court-yard, much resembling a decayed gaol.
The furniture is inherited and paid for by each successive
governor. The grand entrance to the chateau is flanked on one
side by this grim mouldering pile, and on the other by the
stables, with their appropriate dunghills. There is a small
garden on the bank of the river, commanding, as does the chateau
itself, an interesting view of the opposite shores of the St.
Lawrence. These rise boldly precipitous, clothed with pine and
cedar groves, and studded with white villages and detached
farms; beyond which the eye reposes on successive chains of
wooded mountains, fading blue in the distant horizon; meanwhile,
the river below is spreading broadly towards the north, until it
meets and divides round the Isle of Orleans.

“In front of the chateau is an open space of ground, with great
capabilities of being converted into a handsome square; but at
this season, a formidable barrier of bog-land is all that it
presents to the bewildered pedestrian, who endeavours vainly to
steer for the castle gate. On one side of it stands the
protestant cathedral church, an unfinished building, much more
than large enough for the congregation usually assembled in it.
In style and arrangement it resembles a London parochial church,
and has nothing about it reproachable with earthly beauty. There
is a good organ, but mute for want of an organist; and as there
is no choir, the heavy flatness of the service amply secures the
English church from all danger of being crowded with the
overflowings of its neighbour, the catholic cathedral, in which
are still displayed, with no inconsiderable degree of splendour,
the enticing ceremonies of the Roman worship. I was present at
the service on Easter Sunday; a train of not less than fifty
stoled priests and choristers surrounded the tapered altar; the
bishop officiated in _plenis pontificalibus_, nor lacked the
mitre, ‘precious and aurophrygiate;’ while the pealing organ,
incense rolling from silver censers, and kneeling crowds
thronging the triple aisles, presented a spectacle on which few
are rigid enough, either in belief or unbelief, to look with
absolute indifference. A lofty pile of gingerbread cakes,
ornamented with tinsel, was carried to the bishop to receive his
blessing, and a sprinkling of holy water, after which they were
distributed among the people, who received them with most devout
eagerness. These cakes I understood to be the pious offering of
some devotee, more rich than wise, who certainly adopted a
somewhat ludicrous expedient—

‘To bribe the rage of ill-requited heaven,’

with gingerbread.