British rule, in 1759, if it did bring the Hurons less of campaigning and fewer scalps, was the harbinger of domestic peace and stable homes, with very remunerative contracts each fall for several thousands of pairs of snow-shoes, cariboo moca.s.sins and mittens for the English regiments tenanting the Citadel of Quebec, whose wealthy officers every winter scoured the Laurentine range, north of the city, in quest of deer, bear and cariboo, under the experienced guidance of Gros Louis, Sioui, Vincent, and other famous Huron Nimrods.

The chronicles of the settlement proclaim the valour and wisdom of some of their early chiefs, conspicuous appears the renowned Ahatsistari, surnamed the Huron Saul, from his early hostility to missionaries; death closed his career, on the verdant banks of Lake Huron, in 1642, a convert to missionary teachings.

At the departure of the French, in 1759, a new allegiance was forced on the sons of the forest, St. George and his dragon for them took the place of St. Louis and his lilies. The _Deer_, the _Bear_, the _Tortoise_ and the _Wolf_ tribe, however, have managed to live on most friendly terms with the _Dragon_. In 1776, Lorette sent its contingent of painted and plumed warriors to fight General Burgoyne's inglorious campaigns. The services rendered to England by her swarthy allies in the war of 1812-14 were marked, for years a distribution of presents took place from the Quebec Commissariat and Indian Department. Proudly did the Hurons, as well as the Abenaquis, Montagnais, Micmac and Malicite Indians bear the snow- white blankets, scarlet cloth and hunting-knives awarded them by George the King, and by the victors of Waterloo. Each year, at midsummer, the Indians in their canoes, with their live freight of hunters, their copper- coloured squaws and black-eyed papooses, rushed from Labrador, Gaspe, Restigouche, Baie des Chaleurs, and pitched their tents on a strip of land at Levi, hence called Indian Cove, the city itself being closed to the grim monarchs of the woods, reputed ugly customers when in their cups. A special envoy, however, was sent to the Lorette Indians on similar occasions. The Indians settled on Canadian soil were distinguished for their loyalty to England, who has ever treated them more mercifully than did "Uncle Sam."

The war between England and the United States in 1812 brought the Lorette braves again to the front, and the future hero of Chateauguay, Col. De Salaberry, was sent to enlist them. Col. De Salaberry attended in person on the tribe, at Indian Lorette. A grand pow-wow had been convoked. The sons of the forest eagerly sent in their names and got in readiness when the Colonel returned a few days later to inform them that the Government had decided to retain them as a reserve in the event of Quebec being attacked from the Kennebec.

Notwithstanding this announcement, six Hurons (among whom were Joseph and Stanislas Vincent) claimed with loud cries the right to accompany the Canadian _Voltigeurs_, commanded by the Colonel.

At Chateauguay, where 300 Canadians so gloriously repelled 7,000 invaders, the brothers Vincent swam across the river to capture and make prisoners, the flying Yankees.

These swarthy warriors had but a faint idea of what military discipline meant, and thinking that, the battle being over, they could return to Lorette, left accordingly. This was a flagrant case of desertion. Nothing short of the brave Colonel's earnest entreaties, sufficed to procure a pardon for the redskins. A letter was written to Col. De Salaberry by his father, late M.P. for the county, on this subject; it has been preserved.

The Hurons attended at Beauport at the unveiling of the monument of De Salaberry on the 27th of June, 1880, and subscribed bountifully to the building fund.

What with war medals, clothing, ammunition, fertile lands specially reserved at Lorette, on the Restigouche, at Nouvelle, Isle Verte, Caughnawaga, St. Regis, &c., the "untutored savage," shielded by a beneficent legislation, watched over by zealous missionaries, was at times an object of envy to his white brethren. Age or infirmity, seldom war, tore him away from this vale of sorrow, to join the great Indian "majority" in those happy hunting grounds promised to him by his Sachems.

The Hurons were ever ready to parade their paint, feathers, and tomahawks, at the arrival of every new Governor at Quebec, and to a.s.sure Ononthio, [319] of their undying attachment and unswerving loyalty to their great father or august mother "who dwells on the other side of the Great Lake."

These traditions have descended even to the time when _Ononthio_ was merely a Lieutenant-Governor under Confederation. We recollect meeting, in 31st March, 1873, a stately deputation, composed of twenty-three Hurons from Lorette, returning from Clermont, the country seat of Lieutenant- Governor Caron, where they had danced the war-dance for the ladies, and harangued, as follows, the respected Laird of Clermont, just then appointed Lieutenant-Governor:--

ONONTHIO:--

Aisten tiothi non8a [320] tisohon dekha hiatanonstati deson8a8en-dio daskemion tesontamai denon8a ation dat.i.to8anens tesanonron-h8a nionde, aon8a deson8a8endio de8a desakatade; a8eti desanon-ronk8anion dat.i.to8anens chia ta skenrale the kiolaoutou8ison tothi chia hiaha a8eti dechienha totinahiontati desten de sendete ataki atichiai a8eti alatonthara deskemion ichionthe desten tiodeti aisten orachichiai.

Rev. Prosper _Sa8atonen_. The Memory Man. (Rev. Mr. Vincent, a chief's son, then _Vicaire_ at Sillery.) Paul _Tahourenche_, 1st Chief. The Dawn of Day.

Maurice _Agnolin_, 2nd Chief. The Bear.

Francis _Sa.s.sennio_. The Victor of Fire.

Gaspard _Ondiaralethe_. The Canoe Bearer.

Philippe _Theon8atlasta_. He stands upright.

Joseph Gonzague _Odt'o rohann_. He who does not forget.

Paul Jr. _Theianontakhen_. Two United Mountains.

Honore _Telanontouohe_. The Sentry.

A. N. Montpet.i.t _Ahatsistari_. The Fearless Man.--And others, in all 23 warriors.

[_Translation._]

"The chiefs, the warriors, the women and children of our tribe, greet you.

The man of the woods also likes to render homage to merit: he loves to see in his chiefs those precious qualities which const.i.tute the statesman.

"All these gifts of the Great Spirit, wisdom in council, prudence in execution, and that sagacity we exact in the Captains of our nation, you possess them all in an eminent degree.

"We warmly applaud your appointment to the exalted post of Lieutenant- Governor of the Province of Quebec, and feel happy in taking advantage of the occasion to present our congratulations.

"May we also be allowed to renew the a.s.surance of our devotion towards our august Mother, who dwells on the other side of the Great Lake, as well as to the land of our forefathers.

"Accept for you, for Mrs. Caron and your family, our best wishes."

_CHaTEAU BIGOT._

ITS HISTORY AND ROMANCE.

"Ensconced 'mid trees this chateau stood?

'Mid flowers each aisle and porch; At eve soft music charmed the ear?

High blazed the festive torch.

But, ah! a sad and mournful tale Was hers who so enjoyed The transient bliss of these fair shades?

By youth and love decoyed,

Her lord was true--yet he was false, False--false--as sin and h.e.l.l?

To former plights and vows he gave To one that loved him well."

_The Hermitage._

From time immemorial an antique and crumbling ruin, standing in solitary loneliness, in the centre of a clearing at the foot of the Charlesbourg mountain, some five miles from Quebec, has been visited by the young and the curious. It was once a two story stone building, with ponderous walls.

In length it is fifty-five feet by thirty-five feet broad--pierced for six windows in each story, with a well-proportioned door, in the centre. In 1843, at the date of my first visit, the floor of the second story was yet tolerably strong: I ascended to it by a rickety, old staircase. The ruin was sketched in 1858, by Col. Benj. Lossing, and reproduced in _Harper's Magazine_ for January, 1859. The lofty mountain to the north-west of it is called _La Montagne des Ormes_; for more than a century, the Charlesbourg peasantry designate the ruin as _La Maison de la Montagne_.

The English have christened it the _Hermitage_, whilst to the French portion of the population, it is known as Chateau-Bigot, or Beaumanoir; and truly, were it not on account of the a.s.sociations which surround the time-worn pile, few would take the trouble to go and look at the dreary object.

The land on which it stands was formerly included in the _Fief de la Trinite_ granted between 1640 and 1650 to Monsieur Denis, a gentleman from La Roch.e.l.le, in France, the ancestor of the numerous clans of Denis, Denis de la Ronde, Denis de Vitre, &c. The seigniory was subsequently sold to Monseigneur de Laval, a descendant of the Montmorency's, who founded in 1663 the Seminary of Quebec, and one of the most ill.u.s.trious prelates in New France, the portion towards the Mountain was dismembered. When the Intendant Talon formed his Baronie Des Islets [321] he annexed to it certain lands of the _Fief de la Trinite_, amongst others that part on which now stands the remains of the old chateau, of which he seems to have been the builder, but which he subsequently sold. Bigot having acquired it long after, enlarged and improved it very much. He was a luxurious French gentleman, who, more than one hundred years ago, held the exalted post of Intendant or Administrator under the French Crown, in Canada. [322] In those days the forests which skirted the city were abundantly stocked with game: deer, of several varieties, bears, foxes, perhaps even that n.o.ble and lordly animal, now extinct in eastern Canada, the Canadian stag, or Wapiti, roamed in herds over the Laurentian chain of mountains, and were shot within a few miles of the Chateau St. Louis. This may have been one of the chief reasons why the French Lucullus erected the little _chateau_, which to this day bears his name--a resting place for himself and friends after the chase. The profound seclusion of the spot, combined with its beautiful scenery, would have rendered it attractive during the summer months, even without the sweet repose it had in store for a tired hunter. Tradition ascribes to it other purposes, and amus.e.m.e.nts less permissible than those of the chase. A tragical occurrence enshrines the old building with a tinge of mystery which the pen of the novelist has woven into a thrilling romance.

Francois Bigot, thirteenth and last Intendant of the Kings of France in Canada, was born in the Province of Guienne, and descended of a family distinguished by professional eminence at the French bar. His commission bears date "10th June, 1747." The Intendant had the charge of four departments: Justice, Police, Finance and Marine. He had previously filled the post of Intendant in Louisiana, and also at Louisburg. The disaffection and revolt caused by his rapacity in that city, were mainly instrumental in producing its downfall and surrender to the English commander, Pepperell, in 1745. Living at a time when tainted morals and official corruption ruled at court, he seems to have taken his standard of morality from the mother country; his malversations in office, his extensive frauds on the treasury, more than 400,000; his colossal speculations in provisions and commissariat supplies furnished by the French government to the colonists during a famine; his dissolute conduct and final downfall, are fruitful themes wherefrom the historian can draw wholesome lessons for all generations. Whether his Charlesbourg (then called Bourg Royal) castle was used as the receptacle of some of his most valuable booty, or whether it was merely a kind of Lilliputian _Parc au Cerfs_, such as his royal master had, tradition does not say. It would appear, however, that it was kept up by the plunder wrung from sorrowing colonists, and that the large profits he made by paring from the scanty pittance the French government allowed the starving residents, were here lavished in gambling, riot and luxury.

In May, 1757, the population of Quebec was reduced to subsist on four ounces of bread per diem, one lb. of beef, HORSE-FLESH or CODFISH; and in April of the following year, the miserable allowance was reduced to one half. "At this time," remarks our historian, Garneau, "famished men were seen sinking to the earth in the street from exhaustion."

Such were the times during which Louis XV.'s minion would retire to his Sardanapalian retreat, to gorge himself at leisure on the life blood of the Canadian people, whose welfare he had sworn to watch over! Such, the doings in the colony in the days of La Pompadour. The results of this misrule were soon apparent: _the British lion placed his paw on the coveted morsel_. The loss of Canada was viewed, if not by the nation, at least by the French Court, with indifference, to use the terms of one of Her Britannic Majesty's ministers, when its fate and possible loss were canva.s.sed one century later in the British Parliament, "without apprehension or regret." Voltaire gave his friends a banquet at Ferney, in commemoration of the event; the court favourite congratulated His Majesty, that since he had got rid of these "fifteen hundred leagues of frozen country," he had now a chance of sleeping in peace; the minister Choiseul urged Louis XV. to sign the final treaty of 1763, saying that Canada would be _un embarras_ to the English, and that if they were wise they would have nothing to do with it. In the meantime the red cross of St.

George was waving over the battlements on which the lily-spangled banner of the Bourbons had proudly sat with but one interruption for one hundred and fifty years, the infamous Bigot was provisionally consigned to a dungeon in the Bastille--subsequently tried and exiled to Bordeaux; his property was confiscated, whilst his confederates and abettors, such as Varin, Breard, Maurin, Corp.r.o.n, Martel, Estebe and others, were also tried and punished by fine, imprisonment and confiscation: one p.e.n.i.sseault, a government clerk (a butcher's son by birth), who had married in the colony, but whose pretty wife accompanied the Chevalier de Levis on his return to France, seems to have fared better than the rest.

But to revert to the chateau walls as I saw them on the 4th of June, 1863.

During a ramble with an English friend through the woods, which gave us an opportunity of providing ourselves with wild flowers to strew over the tomb of its fair "Rosamond," [323] such as the marsh marigold, clintonia, uvularia, the star flower, veronica, kalmia, trillium, and Canadian violets, we unexpectedly struck on the old ruin. One of the first things that attracted our notice was the singularly corroding effect the easterly wind has on stone and mortar in Canada; the east gable being indented and much more eaten away than that exposed to the western blast. Of the original structure nothing is left now standing but the two gables and the division walls; they are all three of great thickness; certainly no modern house is built in the manner this seems to have been. It had two stories, with rooms in the attic, and deep cellars; a communication existed from one cellar to the other through the division wall. There is also visible a very small door cut through the cellar wall of the west gable; it leads to a vaulted apartment of some eight feet square; the small mound of masonry which covered it might originally have been effectually hidden from view by a plantation of trees over it. What could this have been built for, asked my romantic friend? Was it intended to secure some of the Intendant's plate or other portion of his ill-gotten treasure? Or else as the Abbe Ferland suggests: [324] "Was it to store the fruity old Port and sparkling Moselle of the club of the Barons, who held their jovial meetings there about the beginning of this century?" Was it his mistresses' secret _boudoir_ when the Intendant's lady visited the chateau, like the Woodstock tower to which Royal Henry picked his way through "Love's Ladder?" _Quien sabe?_ Who can unravel the mystery?

It may have served for the foundation of the tower which existed when Mr.

Papineau visited and described the place fifty years ago. The heavy cedar rafters, more than one hundred years old, are to this day sound: one has been broken by the fall, probably of some heavy stones. There are several indentures in the walls for fire-places, which are built of cut masonry; from the angle of one a song sparrow flew out uttering an anxious note. We searched and discovered the bird's nest, with five spotted, dusky eggs in it. How strange! in the midst of ruin and decay, the sweet tokens of hope, love and harmony! What cared the child of song if her innocent offspring were reared amidst these mouldering relics of the past, mayhap a guilty past? Could she not teach them to warble sweetly, even from the roof which echoed the dying sighs of the Algonquin maid? Red alder trees grew rank and vigorous amongst the disjointed masonry, which had crumbled from the walls into the cellar; no trace existed of the wooden staircase mentioned by Mr. Papineau; the timber of the roof had rotted away or been used for camp fires by those who frequent and fish the elfish stream which winds its way over a pebbly ledge towards Beauport. It is well stocked with small trout, which seem to breed in great numbers in the dam near the Chateau--a stream, did we say?

"A hidden brook, In the leafy mouth of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune"

"Enough! enough! cried my poetic companion. The fate of the fair maid, the song of birds, the rustling of groves, the murmur of yonder brook,--does not all this remind you of the accents of our laurel-crowned poet, he who sang of Claribel?"

Those who wish to visit the Hermitage, are strongly advised to take the cart-road which leads easterly from the Charlesbourg church, turning up.

Pedestrians prefer the route through the fields; they may, in this case, leave their vehicle at Gaspard Huot's boarding-house--a little higher than the church at Charlesbourg,--and then walk through the fields, skirting, during the greater part of the road, the trout stream I have previously mentioned; but by all means _let them take a guide_ with them.

Let us now translate and condense, from the interesting narrative of a visit paid to the Hermitage in 1831, by Mr. Amedee Papineau and his talented father, the Hon. Louis Joseph Papineau, the legend which attaches to it:

CAROLINE, OR THE ALGONQUIN MAID.

(BY AMeDeE PAPINEAU.)

"We drove, my father and I, with our vehicle to the foot of the mountain, and there, took a foot-path which led us through a dense wood. We encountered and crossed a rivulet, and then ascended a plateau cleared of wood, a most enchanting place; behind us and on our right was a thick forest: on our left the eye rested on boundless green fields, diversified [325] with golden harvests and with the neat white cottages of the peasantry. In the distance was visible the broad and placid waters of the St. Lawrence, at the foot of the citadel of Quebec, and also the shining cupolas and tin roofs of the city houses; in front of us, a confused ma.s.s of ruins, crenelated walls embedded in moss and rank gra.s.s, together with a tower half destroyed, beams, and the mouldering remains of a roof. After viewing the _tout ensemble_, we attentively examined each portion in detail--every fragment was interesting to us; we with difficulty made our way over the wall, ascending the upper stories by a staircase which creaked and trembled under our weight. With the a.s.sistance of a lighted candle we penetrated into the damp and cavernous cellars, carefully exploring every nook and corner, listening to the sound of our own footsteps, and occasionally startled by the rustling of bats which we disturbed in their dismal retreat. I was young, and consequently very impressionable. I had just left college; these extraordinary sounds and objects would at times make me feel very uneasy. I pressed close to my father and dared scarcely breathe; the remembrance of this subterranean exploration will not easily be forgotten. What were my sensations when I saw a tombstone, the reader can imagine? 'Here we are at last,' exclaimed my father and echo repeated his words.

Carefully did we view this monument; presently we detected the letter 'C,' nearly obliterated by the action of time; after remaining there a few moments, to my unspeakable delight we made our exit from the chamber of death, and stepping over the ruins, we again alighted on the green sward. Evidently where we stood had formerly been a garden; we could still make out the avenues, the walks and plots, over which plum, lilac and apple trees grew wild.