When the toils of adversity began to tighten round Burgoyne in October Gen. Powell was sorely puzzled as to his duty for though he was out of Sir Guy Carleton's military jurisdiction yet that officer was accessible while Burgoyne, his own proper commander was not. The following letter, there fore, written by Sir Guy to Gen. Powell, after Burgoyne's surrender, though in ignorance of that event, throws some light upon the awkwardness of Powell's situation. The letter reads as follows:--

QUEBEC, the 20th October, 1777.

SIR,--I have this moment received your letter of the 19th instant, wherein you demand orders from me for your guidance in your present emergency. It is impossible that I should give orders to you, not alone because the post you are in has been taken out of my command, but the distance is too great for my being able to judge of the situation of Gen Burgoyne or of the exigencies of the place you are at which must depend upon the other, as if you were subject to my commands ignorant as I am of the strength or weakness of your post, I should under all the other circ.u.mstances think it best for His Majesty's service to suffer you to act by your own judgment, so you will there fore easily see the greater necessity there is as matters are for my leaving you to pursue such steps, as shall be suggested to you by your own prudence and reason. I can only recommend to you not to balance between two opposite measures, whereby you may be disabled from following the one or the other with advantage but that either you prepare, with vigour to put to place in such a situation as to be able to make the longest and most resolute defence or that you prepare in time to abandon it with all the stores while your retreat may be certain. Your own sense will tell you that this latter would be a most pernicious measure if there be still hopes of General Burgoyne coming to your post.

I am, sir, &c.

Though Sir Guy did not feel at liberty to issue orders to Gen. Powell yet he immediately despatched Gen. Maclean with the 31st regiment, the Royal Highland Emigrants and a detachment of artillery with four guns to take post and entrench at Chimney Point, near Crown Point, in order to keep up communication with Ticonderoga. Two or three weeks later Gen. Powell abandoned Ticonderoga and withdrew to Canada. After a short tarry at St. John's he was posted at Montreal, where he commanded during the winter of 1777-8. Then he was stationed at St John's and in the autumn of 1780, after Lieut.-Colonel Bolton's unfortunate loss on Lake Ontario, we find him in command of the upper posts with his headquarters at Niagara. By Gen. Haldimand's order of October 21st, 1782, Brig.-Gen. Maclean was a.s.signed to the command of the upper posts, and Gen. Powell was appointed commandant of Quebec.

How long he remained at Quebec has not been ascertained, but in 1780 he bought a fine estate on the St. Lewis Road, about two and a half miles from Quebec to which he gave the name of Powell Place and which he did not dispose of until 1796, when he sold it to Francis Lehoullier. This place was subsequently known as Spencer Wood, but it has since been divided, the larger portion being still known as Spencer Wood, and serving as the residence of the Lieutenant-Governor, while the smaller portion consisting of about forty acres and known as Spencer Grange, belongs to and is the property of J. M. LeMoine, President of the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec.

Gen. Powell became a Colonel in the army February 19th, 1779; a Major General, November 20th, 1782; Colonel of the 69th Foot, April 16th, 1792; Colonel of the 15th Foot, June 20th, 1794 (not April 20th, as printed in Burgoyne's Orderly Book); A Lieutenant-General, May 3rd, 1796, and a General, January 1st, 1801. He died at an advanced age at Lyme, England, July 14th, 1814.

Army Lists--Gentleman's Magazine, vol. 84, p. 190; Burgoyne's Orderly Book, p. 10; Hadden's Journal; Haldimand Papers; LeMoine's Maple Leaves, 3rd series; J. M. LeMoine's t.i.tle Deeds." (_From Gen. Horatio Rogers' Notes on HADDEN'S JOURNAL of Burgoyne's Campaign_, 1776.)

_A FeTE CHAMPeTRE AT POWELL PLACE._

(From the French of P. A. DeGaspe.)

"At half-past eight A.M., on a bright August morning (I say a bright one, for such had lighted up this welcome _fete champetre_ during three consecutive years), the _elite_ of the Quebec _beau monde_ left the city to attend Sir James Craig's kind invitation. Once opposite Powell Place (now Spencer Wood) the guests left their vehicles on the main road, and plunged into a dense forest, following a serpentine avenue which led to a delightful cottage in full view of the majestic St. Lawrence; the river here appears to flow past amidst luxuriant green bowers which line its banks. Small tables for four, for six, for eight guests are laid out facing the cottage, on a platform of planed deals--this will shortly serve as a dancing floor _al fresco_; as the guests successively arrive, they form in parties to partake of a _dejeuner en famille_. I say _en famille_, for an _aide-de-camp_ and a few waiters excepted, no one interferes with the small groups clubbed together to enjoy their early repast, of which cold meat, radishes, bread, tea and coffee form the staples. Those whose appet.i.tes are appeased make room for new comers, and amuse themselves strolling under the shade of trees. At ten the cloth is removed; the company are all on the _qui vive_. The cottage, like the enchanted castle in the Opera of Zemira and Azor, only awaits the magic touch of a fairy; a few minutes elapse, and the chief entrance is thrown open; Little King Craig followed by a brilliant staff, enters. Simultaneously an invisible orchestra, located high amidst the dense foliage of large trees, strikes up "G.o.d Save the King." All stand uncovered, in solemn silence, in token of respect to the national anthem of Great Britain.

"The magnates press forward to pay their respects to His Excellency Those who do not intend to "trip the light fantastic toe" take seats on the platform where his Excellency sits in state; an A.D.C. calls out, _gentlemen, take your partners_, and the dance begins.

"Close on sixty winters have run by since that day, when I, indefatigable dancer, figured in a country dance of thirty couples. My footsteps, which now seem to me like lead, scarcely then left a trace behind them. All the young hearts who enlivened this gay meeting of other days are mouldering in their tombs, even _she_, the most beautiful of them all, _la belle des belles_--she, the partner of my joys and of my sorrows--she who on that day accepted in the circling dance, for the first time, this hand, which two years after was to lead her to the hymeneal altar--yes, even she has been swept away by the tide of death. [231] May not I also say, with Ossian, 'Why art thou sad, son of Fingal! Why grows the cloud of thy soul! the sons of future years shall pa.s.s away, another race shall arise! The people are like the waves of the ocean, like the leaves of woody Morven--they pa.s.s away in the rustling blast, and other leaves lift their green heads on high.'

"After all, why, indeed, yield up my soul in sadness? The children of the coming generation will pa.s.s rapidly, and a new one will take its place! Men are like the surges of the ocean, they resemble the leaves which hang over the groves of my manor, autumnal storms cause them to fall, but new and equally green ones each spring replace the fallen ones. Why should I sorrow? Eighty-six children, grand-children, and great-grand-children, will mourn the fell of the old oak when the breach of the Almighty shall smite it. Should I have the good fortune to find mercy before the Sovereign Judge: should it be vouchsafed to me to meet again the angel of virtue who cheered the few happy days I pa.s.sed in this vale of sorrow, we will both pray together for the numerous progeny we left behind us. But let us revert to the merry meeting previously alluded to. It is half-past two in the afternoon, we are gaily going through the figures of a country-dance, 'Speed the plough' perhaps, when the music stops short, everyone is taken aback, and wonders at the cause of interruption. The arrival of two prelates, Bishop Plessis and Bishop Mountain, gave us the solution of the enigma; an aide-de-camp had motioned to the bandmaster to stop on noticing the entrance of the two high dignitaries of the respective churches. The dance was interrupted whilst they were there, and was resumed on their departure. Sir James had introduced this point of etiquette from the respect he entertained for their persons.

"At three the loud sound of a hunters horn is heard in the distance; all follow His Excellency in a path cut through the then virgin forest of Powell Place. Some of the guests from the length of the walk, began to think that Sir James had intended those who had not danced to take a "const.i.tutional" before dinner, when, on rounding an angle a huge table, canopied with green boughs, groaning under the weight of dishes, struck on their view--a grateful oasis in the desert. Monsieur Pet.i.t, the _chef de cuisine_, had surpa.s.sed himself, like Vatel, I imagine he would have committed suicide had he failed to achieve the triumph by which he intended to elicit our praise. Nothing could exceed in magnificence, in sumptuousness this repast--such was the opinion not only of Canadians, for whom such displays were new, but also of the European guests, though there was a slight drawback to the perfect enjoyment of the dishes--_the materials which composed them we could not recognize_, so great was the artistic skill, so wonderful the manipulations of Monsieur Pet.i.t, the French cook.

"The Bishops left about half an hour after dinner, when dancing was resumed with an increasing ardor, but the cruel mammas were getting concerned respecting certain sentimental walks which the daughters were enjoying after sunset. They ordered them home, if not with their menacing att.i.tude with which the G.o.ddess Calypso is said to have spoken to her nymphs, at least with frowns; so said the gay young _cavaliers_. By nine o'clock, all had re-entered Quebec."

_SPENCER GRANGE._

"Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books"--_Thomson_

When Spencer Wood became the gubernatorial residence, its owner (the late Hy. Atkinson) reserved the smaller half, Spencer Grange, some forty acres, divided off by a high brick wall and fence, and terminating to the east in a river frontage of one acre. A small latticed bower facing the St.

Lawrence overhangs the cliff, close to where the Belle Borne rill--nearly dry during the summer months--rushes down the bank to Spencer Cove, in spring and autumn,--a ribbon of fleecy whiteness. To the south, it is bounded by Woodfield, and reaches to the north at a point opposite the road called Stuart's road which intersects Holland farm, leading from the St. Lewis to the Ste. Foye highway. The English landscape style was adopted in the laying out of the flower garden and grounds; some majestic old trees were left here and there through the lawns; three clumps of maple and red oak in the centre of the meadows to the west of the house grouped for effect; fences, carefully hidden away in the surrounding copses; hedges, buildings, walks and trees brought in here and there to harmonize with the eye and furnish on a few acres a perfect epitome of a woodland scene. The whole place is girt round by a zone of tall pine, beech, maple and red oaks, whose deep green foliage, when lit up by the rays of the setting or rising sun, a.s.sume tints of most dazzling brightness,--emerald wreaths dipped into molten gold-overhanging under a leafy arcade, a rustic walk, which zigzags round the property, following to the southwest the many windings of the Belle Borne streamlet. This sylvan region most congenial to the tastes of a naturalist, echoes in spring and summer with the ever-varying and wild minstrelsy of the robin, the veery, the songsparrow, the red-start, the hermit-thrush, the red-eyed flycatcher and other feathered choristers, while the golden-winged woodp.e.c.k.e.r or rain fowl, heralds at dawn the coming rain of the morrow, and some crows, rendered saucy by protection, strut through the sprouting corn, in their sable ca.s.socks, like worldly clergymen computing their tythes. On the aforesaid walk, once trodden over by the prince of American naturalists, the great Audubon, whilst on a visit to Mr. Atkinson at Spencer Wood, was conferred the name of _Audubon Avenue_, by his Sillery disciple, the author of the _Birds of Canada. The grand river views of Spencer Wood, are replaced by a woodland scenery, sure to please the eye of any man of cultivated taste, accustomed to the park-like appearance of the south of England. In front of the mansion, close to the lawn, stands the n.o.blest elm tree of Sillery (_Ulmus America.n.u.s_), leafy to its very roots. Here, amidst literature and flowers, after leaving Spencer Wood, lived for several years Henry Atkinson, a name in those regions once synonymous with ornamental gardens and flowers. Graperies, conservatories, an orchid house soon sprung up under his hand at this spot, larger than Spencer Wood had ever boasted of in its palmiest days, since 1860, it is the seat of J. M. LeMoine.

The advent in Quebec of the great Audubon is heralded thus in the Quebec _Gazette_ of the 23rd September, 1842:--

"To the Editor of the Quebec _Gazette_"

SIR,--It does not appear to be known to the Quebec public that one of the most distinguished men of the present age is now on a visit to our city--John James Audubon, the author of the magnificent work ent.i.tled 'Ornithological Biography; or an Account of the Habits of the Birds of America, etc.' I understand that Mr. Audubon devoted nearly fifty years of his life to this interesting subject, and has placed before the world, at a cost of 27,000 sterling, the whole family of the feathered tribe, giving to each its natural size, and coloured to the very life. Mr. Audubon has brought one copy [232] of his work with him, let as hope it may be secured by our citizens. It is his first visit to Quebec, the splendid scenery of which has induced him to prolong his stay a few days. His present portfolio contains several beautiful specimens of the quadrupeds of America, now in course of publication by him as a companion to the above splendid work, which only requires to be seen to ensure him a numerous list of subscribers in this neighborhood.

"In order to afford Mr. Audubon every facility in the pursuit of his arduous and interesting undertaking, the President of the United States and the Commander-in-Chief, General Winfield Scott, have furnished him the necessary doc.u.ments to ensure him a cordial reception throughout the Union.

"Mr. Audubon thus speaks of his meeting on the coast of Labrador, a British officer well known to us all in Quebec--"But few days had elapsed, when one morning we saw a vessel making towards our anchorage, with the gallant flag of England waving in the breeze and as she was moored within a cable's length of the _Ripley_, I soon paid my respects to her commander, Captain Bayfield, of the Royal Navy. The politeness of British naval officers is proverbial, and from the truly frank and cordial reception of this gentleman and his brave companions in arms, I felt more than ever a.s.sured of the truth of this opinion. On the _Gulnare_ there was an amiable and talented surgeon, who was a proficient in botany. We afterwards met the vessel in several other harbors.'

"The name of John James Audubon, we should hope, is quote sufficient to ensure him a cordial welcome throughout the British dominions in America, and we sincerely hope that his visit to Quebec may hereafter be a source of pleasing remembrance to him.

"H.

"Quebec, Sept. 23, 1842."

(_From the Antiquarian and Numismatic Journal._)

MY VISIT TO SPENCER GRANGE, QUEBEC, IN 1856, THE COUNTRY SEAT OF J. M.

LEMOINE.

BY BENJAMIN SULTE, THE HISTORIAN OF "THREE RIVERS."

[Translated from the French.]

One of the greatest attractions for me, says Mr. Sulte, in visiting Spencer Grange, was its museum of Canadian birds, comprising two- thirds of the Feathered tribe of the Dominion, with a fair sprinkling of foreign specimens in the skin, and a collection of birds' eggs. Our friend, long known among Canadian naturalists for his persevering efforts during twenty years to popularize [233] the beautiful and instructive study of ornithology, had evidently met with more than one ally--in fact, many sympathizers. I am inclined to think--in his special branch of natural history., Each cla.s.s of birds, in this apartment, has its corner; judging by the label, its "habitation,", as well as name.

The thrushes and flycatchers of Canada, from their exquisite bright tints or delicate arrow-shaped markings, are particularly conspicuous.

The cinnamon-backed cuckoo must be a graceful minstrel in our green hedges in July, though I am ashamed to admit I never was lucky enough to meet him. The oriole, blue jay, officer-bird, summer red-bird, indigo-bird and golden-winged woodp.e.c.k.e.r form a group of striking beauty; a most excellent idea, I would say, to thus place in juxtaposition the most gorgeously habited of our feathered choristers for the sake of contrasts.

A succession of drawers contain the nests and eggs, scientifically labelled, of many Canadian species, and of some of the most melodious songsters of France and England; pre-eminent stands the Italian, French and Devonshire nightingale and its eggs. Our time was much too limited to allow us to treasure up all the anecdotes and theories anent birds, their mysterious spring and autumn migrations, their lively memory of places, so agreeably dealt out to us. We cannot, however, entirely omit noticing some curious objects we saw--the tiny nest of a West Indian humming bird male out of a piece of sponge, and he _cubiculum_ of a redheaded woodp.e.c.k.e.r, with its eggs still in it, scooped out of the decayed heart of a silver birch tree, with the bird's head still peering from the orifice in the bark. Here, as well as in the library, the presentations were numerous: Col. Rhodes was represented by a glossy Saguenay raven. I listened, expecting each moment to hear it, like Poe's nocturnal visitor, "ghostly, grim and ancient," croak out "nevermore!"

The late Hon. Adam Fergusson Blair, once a familiar of Spencer Grange, was remembered by some fine Scotch grouse, ptarmigan and a pair of capercailzie, in splendid feather, brought from Scotland. A good specimen of the silvery gull, shot at Niagara Falls, was a gift from John William McCallum, Esq., now of Melbourne, E.T.--an early friend of our friend, whilst a very rare foreign bird (a Florida or glossy ibis), shot at Grondines, had been contributed by Paul J. Charlton, Esq., a Quebec sportsman. What had brought it so far from home?

At the bead of the grave, omniscient owls, like the foreman of a grand jury, stood a majestic "grand duc," the largest owl of the Pyrenees, resembling much our Virginian species,--a donation from a French _savant_, Le Frere Ogerien. The owls have ever been to me a deep subject of study, their defiant aspect, thoughtful countenances, in which lurks a _soupcon_ of rapacity, remind me of a mayor and town council bent on imposing new taxes without raising too much of a row.

A gaudy and sleek bird of Paradise had been donated by Miss Caron, of the adjoining _chateau_. There was also a newly-patented bird- trap, sent by a New York firm, in the days of Boss Tweed, Conolly, Field and other birds of prey I noticed boxes for sparrows to build in, designed by Col W Rhodes. On the floor lay a curious sample of an Old World man-trap, not sent from New York, but direct from England, a terror to poachers and apple stealers, French swords and venomous looking bayonets, of very ancient design, a rusty, long Indian musket barrel together with _tibiae_ and _tarsi_, labelled 1759-60, presents from H. J. Chouinard, Esq., the owner in 1865 of the site of the battlefield at St. Foye, where stands _Le Monument des Braves_. A bristling-fretful porcupine, a ferocious-looking lynx, and several well-mounted specimens of game had been donated by McPherson Le Moyne, Esq., the President of the "Montreal Fish and Game Protection Club,"

also several other contributions from the same.

Who had sent the colossal St. Bernard dog, like another Maida, talking over the lawn, we had not an opportunity of asking. We patted him, all trembling.

The flower garden is laid out in the modern landscape style. Fences carefully concealed, a deep fringe of hard wood trees on one side, a trim lilac hedge on the other, and a plantation of shrubs, roan, barbary, sumac, lilac and young maple. On the side west of the house was observable, next to a rustic seat, in the fork of a white birch, an archaeological monument made with the key-stone of Prescott and Palace Gates when removed by order of the City Corporation, [234] it stands about ten feet in height.

From this spot, spanned by a little rustic bridge, a walk meanders round the property to the west, canopied by a grove of silver birch, oak, beach, pine and maple. Along the serpentine brook, Belle-Borne, now so diminutive, and which, according to the historian Ferland, two centuries ago turned the wheel of a mill below, is visible a dam, creating a small pond in May, June and July, a favorite bathing place, we are told, for the thrushes, robins and other songsters of the adjoining groves. This tiny runlet is fringed with several varieties of ferns, dog-tooth violets and other algae--(_From L'Opinion Publique._)

_SPENCER OR BAGATELLE COTTAGE._

"We have many little Edens Scattered up and down our dales; We've a hundred pretty hamlets, Nestling in our fruitful vales, Here the sunlight loves to linger, And the summer winds to blow, Here the rosy spring in April, Leapeth laughing from the snow."

On the western corner of the Spencer Grange property, and dependant to it, can be seen from the road, _Bagatelle_--a long, straggling, picturesque cottage, in the Italian style, with trees, rustic seats, walks and a miniature flower-garden round it; a small prospect pavillion opens on the St. Lewis road, furnishing a pretty view of the blue range of mountains to the north; in summer it peeps from under cl.u.s.ters of the green or purple leaves of some luxuriant _Virginian_ creepers--our American ivy--which climb round it. _Bagatelle was generally occupied by an _attache_ of Spencer Wood, in the days of the Earl of Elgin and Sir Edmund W. Head.

Bagatelle is a quiet little nest, where our Canadian Laureate, Frechette, might be tempted to pen an invitation to his brother bard of the city, LeMay, somewhat in the manner of the soft warbler of Albion towards his friend the Revd. P. D. Maurice:

"Where, far from smoke or noise of town, I watch the twilight falling brown All round a careless ordered garden, Close to the ridge of a n.o.ble down.

You'll have no scandal while you dine, But honest talk and wholesome wine, And only hear the magpie gossip Garrulous under a roof of pine.