General Wolfe was in the harbour of Quebec before either Ticonderoga or Niagara had fallen. Eight thousand men had been embarked at Louisbourg, under convoy of Admirals Saunders and Holmes. The expedition arrived without accident off the Island of Orleans, where the troops were disembarked, on the 25th of June. General Wolfe, three days afterwards, issued an address to the colonists. He appealed to their fears. General Amherst was approaching in one direction, Sir W. Johnston in another, and he (Wolfe) was at their very doors. Succour from France was unobtainable. To the peasantry he, therefore, offered the sweets of peace, amid the horrors of war. The French colonists, however, were ignorant of the English language as of English customs. They saw no sign of fine feeling towards themselves in so large a fleet and so considerable an army. Every obstacle that could be placed in the way of an invading force, the French colonists patriotically placed in the way of General Wolfe. They readily formed themselves into battalions for defence. They hung about the skirts of that part of the army which had been landed, cutting off foraging parties, and otherwise harassing it. They prayed in the churches for the preservation of their country. The most noble spirit animated the Canadians. General Monckton was sent to drive the French off Point Levi, opposite Quebec, and take possession of the post. He succeeded. Batteries were thrown up and unceasingly worked. The firing was, but however, of little use, only the houses of the town being injured. The fortifications were not only uninjured, they were being rapidly strengthened. More energetic measures were determined upon. Wolfe crossed the river and attacked the enemy in their entrenchments, at Montmorenci. But, some of the boats in which the soldiers had crossed, unluckily grounded, and the attacking party did not all land together. The grenadiers rushed impetuously forward, without even waiting to form, and were mowed down by the enemy's close, steady, and well directed fire. Montcalm's force now advanced to the beach, and the contest waxed hotter. A thunder storm was approaching, and the tide was setting in. Wolfe, fearing the consequences of delay, ordered a retreat, and returned to his quarters, on the Island of Orleans. He lost six hundred of the flower of his army in this unhappy encounter, and left behind him some of his largest boats. The condition of the invaders was far from enviable. Sickness prevailed to an alarming extent in the camp. They had been already five weeks before the city, and many lives had been lost, not only in skirmishes, but by dysentery. Wolfe himself fell sick. Depressed in spirits by the disastrous attempt to land on the Beauport shoals, and worn down with fatigue and watching, he was compelled to take to his bed. It was while lying ill that the plan occurred to him of proceeding up the river, scaling the heights by night, and forcing Montcalm to a general engagement. On his recovery he proceeded to carry his plan into execution. A feint of landing again at Beauport was made. The boats of the fleet, filled with sailors and marines, apparently made for the shore, covered by a part of the fleet, the other part having gone higher up the river. At one hour after midnight, on the 12th September, the fleet being now at anchor at the narrows of Carouge, the first division of the army, consisting of 1,600 men, were placed in flat bottomed boats, which silently dropped down the current. It was intended to land three miles above Cape Diamond, and then ascend to the high grounds above. The current, however, carried the boats down to within a mile and a half of the city. The night was dismally dark, the bank seemed more than ordinarily steep and lofty, and the French were on the qui vive. A sentinel bawled out, "Que vive," who goes there? "La France," was the quick reply. Captain Macdonald, of the 78th Highlanders, had served in Holland, and knew the proper reply to the challenge of a French sentry. "A quel regiment?" asked the sentry, "De la Reine" was the response. "Passe" said the soldier, who made the darkness vibrate as he brought his musket to the carry. Other sentinels were similarly deceived. One was more particularly curious than the others. Something in the voice of the passing friend did not please his ear. Running down to the water's edge, he called "Pour quoi est-ce que vous ne parlez plus haut," why don't you speak louder? "Tais toi, nous serons entendu!" Hush, we shall be overheard and discovered, said the cunning highlander, still more softly. It was enough, the boats passed. Within one hour of daylight a landing was effected, and the British army began to scale the heights, the base of which was then washed by the St. Lawrence. By daylight, the army was drawn up in battle array, on the "Plains of Abraham." The ground was somewhat undulating, and well calculated for manœuvring. Every knoll was taken advantage of. Every little hillock served the purpose of an earthwork. For the invaders it was victory or death. To retreat was impossible. The position of the British army was speedily made known to Montcalm. There was not a moment to be lost. The French General rapidly crossed the St. Charles, and advanced with his whole army, to meet that of Wolfe. Fifteen hundred Indians first ascended the hill, from the valley of the St. Charles, and stationing themselves in cornfields and bushes, fired upon the English, who took no notice of their fire. Between nine and ten o'clock, the two armies met, face to face, and when the main body of the French, advancing rapidly, were within forty yards, the English opened their fire, and the carnage was terrible. The French fought gallantly, but under a galling and well directed fire, they fell, in spite of the exertions of their officers, into disorder. The British Grenadiers charged at this critical moment. The Highlanders rushing forward, with the claymore, hewed down every opponent, and the fate of the battle was no longer doubtful—the French retreated. Wolfe had just been carried to the rear, mortally wounded in the groin. Early in the battle, a ball struck him in the wrist, but binding his handkerchief around it, he continued to encourage his men. It was while in the agonies of death, that he heard the cry of "they flee," "they flee," and on being told that it was the French who fled, exclaimed, "Then I die happy." His second in command, General Monckton, was wounded and conveyed away, shortly after assuming the direction of affairs, when the command devolved upon General Townshend who followed up the victory, rendered the more telling by the death of the brave Montcalm, who fell, mortally wounded, in front of his battalion, and that of his second in command, General Jennezergus, who fell near him. Wolfe's army consisted of only 4,828 men, Montcalm's of 7,520 men, exclusive of Indians. The English loss amounted to 55 killed and 607 wounded, that of the French to nearly a thousand killed and wounded; and a thousand made prisoners. Montcalm was carried to the city; his last moments were employed in writing to the English general, recommending the French prisoners to his care and humanity; and when informed that his wound was mortal, he sublimely remarked:—"I shall not then live to see the surrender of Quebec." On the 14th he died, and on the evening of the 18th the keys of Quebec were delivered up to his conquerors, and the British flag was hoisted on the citadel. French imperial rule had virtually ended in Canada. Not so, French customs. By the capitulation, which suffered the garrison to march out with the honors of war, the inhabitants of the country were permitted the free exercise of their religion; and, afterwards, in 1774, the Roman Catholic Church establishment was recognized; and disputes concerning landed and real property were to be settled by the Coutume de Paris. In criminal cases only was the law of England to apply.
Admiral Saunders, with all the fleet, except two ships, sailed for England, on the 18th of October, Quebec being left to the care of General Murray and about 3,000 men. After the fleet had sailed, several attempts were made upon the British outposts at Point Levi, Cape Rouge, and St. Foy, unsuccessfully. Winter came, and the sufferings of the conquerors and the conquered were dreadful. The Frazer Highlanders wore their kilts, notwithstanding the extreme cold, and provisions were so scarce and dear, that many of the inhabitants died of starvation. The Marquis de Vaudreuil, the Governor General of His Most Christian Majesty, busied himself, at Montreal, with preparations for the recovery of Quebec, in the spring. In April, he sent the General De Levi, with an army of 10,000 men, to effect that object. De Levi arrived within three miles of Quebec, on the 28th, and defeated General Murray's force of 2,200 men, imprudently sent to meet him. The city was again besieged, but this time by the French. Indeed, it was only on the appearance of the British ships, about the middle of May, that the siege was raised. De Levi retreated to Jacques Cartier. The tide of fortune was again turning. General Amherst was advancing from New York upon Montreal. By the middle of May, that city, and with it the whole of Canada, including a population, exclusive of Indians, of 69,275 souls, was surrendered to England.
Montcalm, who was not only a general, but a statesman, is said to have expressed himself to the effect, that the conquest of Canada by England would endanger her retention of the New England colonies, and ultimately prove injurious to her interests on this continent. Canada, not subject to France, would be no source of uneasiness or annoyance to the English colonists, who already were becoming politically important, and somewhat impatient of restraint. How far such an opinion was justifiable, is to be gathered from the condition of Canada and the colonies of Great Britain in America, at this hour.
Canada was, in 1763, ceded by His Most Christian Majesty, the King of France, to His Britannic Majesty King George the Second. Emigration from the United Kingdom to Canada was encouraged—not to Canada only, but to Nova Scotia, which then included the present Province of New Brunswick. By the treaty of 1763, signed at Paris, Nova Scotia, Canada, the Isle of Cape Breton, and all the other Islands in the Gulf and River St. Lawrence, were ceded to the British Crown. Britain, not only powerful in arms, but, even at this period, great in commerce, was about to change, though almost imperceptibly, the feelings of her new subjects. The old or New England colonies, which had so largely contributed to the subjugation of Canada, were already largely engaged in trade. They had not made much progress in agriculture. They had made no progress in manufactures. It was six years later before their first collegiate institution, at Hanover, New Hampshire, was founded. But, while Canada, perhaps, only loaded a couple of vessels with the skins of the bear, the beaver, the buffalo, the fox, the lynx, the martin, the minx, and the wolf, to prevent the total evaporation of heat from the shoulders of the gentler sex in Paris or London, or to fringe the velvet robes of the courtiers of St. James and the Tuileries, the New Englanders employed, annually, about one thousand and seventy-eight British vessels, manned by twenty-eight thousand nine hundred seamen, while their whale and other fisheries had become of great importance.[4] To change the military character of the sixty-nine thousand inhabitants of Canada ceded by France to England, could not be done immediately. That was as impossible as to make them abjure by proclamation, their religion. All changes, to be lasting, must be gradual, and the government of Great Britain only contemplated a lasting change, by the introduction into Canada of her own people, imbued with somewhat different ideas, religiously, legally, and commercially, from those which actuated the conquered population.
CHAPTER II.
For some years after the conquest, the form of government was purely military. It was, indeed, only in 1774, that two Acts were passed by the British government, one with the view of providing a revenue for the civil government of the Province of Quebec, as the whole of Canada was then termed, the other, called "The Quebec Act," defining the boundaries of the Province, setting aside all the provisions of the Royal proclamation, of 1763, and appointing a governing Council of not more than twenty-three, nor less than seventeen persons. And whatever may have been the motive for this almost unlooked for liberality on the part of the mother country, it is not a little singular that only a year later, England's great difficulty with her old colonies occurred. The Parliament of Great Britain had imposed, without even consulting the colonists, a tax for the defence and protection of the colonies, on clayed sugar, indigo, coffee, &c., and the colonists resisted. The American colonies contended that taxation and representation were inseparable, and that having no voice in the administration of affairs, they were free from any taxation, but that which was self-imposed, for local purposes. So far, however, from paying any heed to the remonstrances of the colonists, the Imperial Parliament became more exacting and tyrannical. Not only were the necessaries of life taxed in America, for the benefit of the red-tapists and other place-holders of the Imperial government, but a stamp Act was passed through the Imperial Parliament, ordaining that instruments of writing—bonds, deeds, and notes—executed in the colonies, should be null and void, unless executed upon paper stamped by the London Stamp Office. It was then that a coffin, inscribed with the word "Liberty" was carried to the grave, in Portsmouth, Massachusetts, and buried with military honours! Had the views of Governor Pownall, of Massachusetts, with regard to the representation of the colonies in the British Parliament, been adopted, no umbrage could have been taken at the imposition of taxes, because the colonies would have been open to civil and military preferment in the state equally with the residents of the United Kingdom. It was, and is, an unfortunate mistake to look upon colonists with contempt. Colonists, more even than the inhabitants of old countries, inhale a spirit of independence. Often, lords of all they survey, they call no man lord. They are the pioneers of their own fortunes. They make glad the wilderness. They produce more than they themselves require. But Great Britain was, at the time of which we speak, perfectly infatuated. On the 4th of Sept. of the very year in which the Quebec Act was granted, 1774, a Continental Congress was held, of which Peter Randolph, of Virginia, was President, to sympathize with the people of Boston, on account of their disabilities, by reason of the tea riot.[5] But such Congresses produced no effect in England. On the contrary, Massachusetts was more rigorously punished, and was prevented from fishing on the Banks of Newfoundland. Is it wonderful that the battles of Lexington, Concord, and Bunker's Hill followed? Is it wonderful that those who had assisted Wolfe in taking Canada from the French, should have afterwards attempted to conquer Canada for themselves? Is it wonderful that, on the 3rd of November, 1775, one of Washington's Brigadier Generals, Montgomery, should have received the surrender of 500 regular British troops, at St. John's, Canada East; the surrender of one hundred Canadians, of thirty-nine pieces of cannon, of seven mortars, and of five hundred stand of arms? Is it wonderful that Montreal, then so thinly inhabited and indifferently garrisoned, should have capitulated, or that Quebec should have been invested by Arnold, who sailed down the Chaudiere on rafts, and by Montgomery, to whom Montreal had capitulated? It is only wonderful that Quebec was successfully defended, and that General Montgomery perished under her walls. Canada, notwithstanding the temporary annexation of Montreal, was true to Great Britain, feeling that whatever might have been the injustice of Britain to the old Colonies, Canada had nothing then of which to complain. Indeed, the attack upon the newly ceded province of Canada, was amongst the earliest demonstrations of a disposition on the part of the old Colonies to resort to violence. "The Quebec Act" was in itself a cause of offence to them. On the 21st of October, 1774, the following language was made use of by the Congress, in reference to that Act, in an Address to the people of Great Britain:—"Nor can we suppress our astonishment, that a British Parliament should ever consent to establish in that country, a religion that has deluged your Island in blood, and dispersed impiety, bigotry, persecution, murder, and rebellion through every part of the world." And "That we think the Legislature of Great Britain is not authorized by the Constitution to establish a religion fraught with sanguinary and impious tenets." The attack was of a two-fold nature. Both the sword and the pen were brought into requisition. It was supposed by the discontented old colonists, that the boundary of the lakes and rivers which emptied themselves into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and had formed the natural barrier between two nations, until the peace of Paris, in 1763, when Canada passed from the dominion of France to that of the British Crown, formed no boundary to British rule, as the sway of the Anglo-Saxon race was now fully established over the whole of the northern part of the continent; and it was further supposed, that it was, therefore, proper to detract, if possible, from the power of Great Britain, to harm the revolutionary colonists on the great watery highway of the lakes and rivers, or to prevent such a united force of Colonial and Provincial inhabitants as might counterbalance, in a great measure, the pertinacious loyalists who were to discountenance American appeals for justice,—the warfare, before the declaration of American Independence, being "neither against the throne nor the laws of England, but against a reckless and oppressive ministry."[6] Efforts were, for such reasons, made to obtain possession of the keys of the Lakes and of the St. Lawrence at Quebec and Montreal. The old colonists were to make a war of political propagandism on Canada and they resolved upon the employment of both force and persuasion. Generals Montgomery, Arnold, and Allen invaded Canada, and, to a certain point, with complete success. After the successes of the two latter officers at Ticonderoga and Crown Point, Arnold pushed on towards Quebec, through the wilderness, and had ascended the heights of Abraham before Montgomery, who had proceeded towards Quebec from Montreal, had arrived. Under these circumstances, Arnold retired about twenty miles above Quebec, to wait for Montgomery. Meanwhile, the Governor of Canada, Sir Guy Carleton, had escaped, through Montgomery's army, in the dead of night, in an open boat, rowed with muffled oars, and guided by Captain Bouchette, of the Royal Navy, and was now safely lodged in the chief fortress of America. On the 1st of December, Montgomery effected a junction with Arnold, and the siege of Quebec was commenced, although the besiegers were most indifferently provided with camp equipage, and were poorly clad. Their cannon, too, was of so small a description, as to be almost useless. The design evidently was to carry the town, which was not then nearly as strongly fortified as now, and was only garrisoned by a few troops, militia, and seamen, by assault, in the full persuasion that the Canadians would be only most happy to be identified with the American struggle for liberty, or by being neutral, would show to the ministry of England the formidable animosity of a united continent, by which the ends of the old colonists would be gained, and the war nipped in its ripening bud.[7] This, Generals Montgomery and Arnold were unable to do. The attempt was made on the 31st December, but signally failed. Arnold proceeded with one division towards Sault-au-Matelot Street, by way of St. Roch's, and succeeded in establishing himself in some houses at the eastern extremity of that street, but being attacked in the rear, by a part of the garrison, directed by General Carleton to make a sortie from Palace Gate, only a remnant of the assailants, with considerable difficulty, managed to get back to camp. Montgomery approached by the road under the Cape, called Près-de-Ville, with another division, but was stoutly resisted, and fell mortally wounded. After the attack, Montgomery's body was found embedded in the snow, together with the bodies of his two Aides-de-Camp, Captain McPherson and Captain Cheeseman. Arnold now retired about three miles from Quebec, where he encamped during the winter.
On the 15th of February, 1776, the American Congress appointed Dr. Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Chase, and Charles Carroll, of Carrollton—the last mentioned gentleman being requested to prevail upon his brother, the Revd. John Carroll, a Jesuit of distinguished theological attainments, and celebrated for his amiable manners and polished address, to accompany them—to proceed to Canada with the view of representing to the Canadians that the Americans south of the St. Lawrence, "had no apprehension that the French would take any part with Great Britain; but that it was their interest, and, the Americans had reason to believe, their inclination, to cultivate a friendly intercourse with the colonies." They were to have religious freedom, and have the power of self-government, while a free press was to be established, to reform all abuses.[8] The Committee, or, more properly speaking, the Commission, were, however, far from being successful in their attempt to negotiate Canada into revolt. The clergy of Canada could not be persuaded that, as Roman Catholics, they would be better treated by the Revolutionary colonists than they had been under the British government, after the expression of such sentiments as those addressed to the people of Great Britain, on the 21st of October, 1774. The Americans, uncouth in manners, were, in truth, most intolerant of papacy. In the "Cradle of American Liberty," a dancing school was not permitted. While in Boston a fencing school was allowed, there were no musicians permitted to exist, and the anti-papal character of the people was even more evident from the fact, that the first thing printed in New England was the Freeman's Oath! the second an almanac; and the third an edition of the psalms.
On the day after the Reverend Mr. Carroll had failed in his part of the mission, joined Dr. Franklin, and returned to the South, Chase and Carroll of Carrollton had been busy with the military part of their embassy. At a council of war held in Montreal, it was resolved to fortify Jacques Cartier—the Richelieu Rapids, between Quebec and Three Rivers—and to build six gondolas at Chambly, of a proper size to carry heavy cannon, and to be under the direction of Arnold. But disasters thickened around the insurgents. The small pox had broken out among the troops, and was making deep inroads upon their scanty numbers. To crown the whole, the worst news was received from the besiegers at Quebec, for out of 1,900 men, there were not more than 1,000 fit for duty, all the rest being invalids, chiefly afflicted with the small-pox. On the 5th of May, 1776, a council of war was held at Quebec, and it was resolved to remove the invalids, artillery, batteaux, and stores higher up the river; but, on the evening of that day, intelligence was received in the American camp, that fifteen ships were within forty leagues of Quebec, hastening up the river; and early next morning, five of them hove in sight. General Thomas immediately gave orders to embark the sick and the artillery in the batteaux, whilst the enemy began to land their troops. About noon, a body of the British, a thousand strong, formed into two divisions, in columns of six deep, and supported with a train of six pieces of cannon, attacked the American sentinels and main guard. The Americans stood for a moment on the plains, with about 250 men and one field piece only, when the order for retreat was given, and the encampment was precipitately deserted. In the confusion, all the cannon of the besiegers fell into the hands of the British, and about 200 invalids were made prisoners. Following the course of the river, the broken army of the Americans fled towards Montreal, and halting for a while at Deschambault, finally retreated along the St. Lawrence, until they made a stand at Sorel, with the view to an "orderly retreat out of Canada."[9] By the 18th of June, the British General, Burgoyne, was close behind Arnold, who now, with the whole of the American army, had quitted Canadian soil, and was proceeding somewhat rapidly up the Richelieu, into Lake Champlain.
In the very year that Arnold retired from Quebec, on the 4th of July, 1776, the thirteen now confederated colonies, on the report of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Phillip Livingston, dissolved their allegiance to the British Crown, declaring themselves to be free and independent. The lions, sceptres, crowns, and other paraphernalia of royalty were now rudely trampled on, in both Boston and Virginia. Massachusetts, and, shortly afterwards, New York, were, indeed, in the possession of rebels, commanded by Washington. It was then that, in 1777, the execution of a plan of attacking the New Englanders, by way of Canada, was entrusted to General Burgoyne, who, with some thousands of troops, a powerful train of artillery, and several tribes of Indians, proceeded down Lake Champlain, to cut off the northern from the southern colonies of the rebellious confederation. Burgoyne chased the American General St. Clair out of Ticonderoga; hunted Schuyler to Saratoga; destroyed the American flotilla on Lake Champlain; demolished bridges, and reduced forts. He, nevertheless, met with a severe check at Bennington, Vermont. Being at Fort Edward, he sent Colonel Baum, with a detachment of the army to seize a magazine of stores at Bennington. When within a few miles of that place, however, Baum learned that the Americans were strongly entrenched. He, therefore, halted, and sent to Burgoyne for a reinforcement. But the American General Stark, who had a large body of Vermont Militia under his command, in addition to his ordinary New Hampshire corps, now determined to be the assailant. With only 500 regulars and 100 Indians, Colonel Baum did not consider it prudent to fight a body vastly superior in numbers, and he retreated. Assistance reached him at this critical moment, which seemed to make a battle, if not expedient, a point of honour. Unfortunately the sense of honour prevailed, Baum gave battle, and was himself slain and his men defeated, the British loss being 700 in killed and wounded, while that of the Americans was only about 100. It was a pity that Baum had not the moral courage to retire, even when reinforced, for his defeat much embarrassed Burgoyne, and made an attempt at a general retreat even necessary, as the courage of the enemy had so increased by the moral effect of a victory, that Burgoyne was in danger of being surrounded by the hordes of State Militiamen who, on all sides of him, were taking the field. Burgoyne was, nevertheless, still on the advance, with the main body of his army, and was approaching Saratoga, when he heard of the defeat of Baum. Unwilling to retreat, and yet unable to advance, he hesitated, but ultimately decided upon returning. That, however, was now impossible. He had hardly turned his face towards the place from whence he came, than he fell in with General Gates, losing about 600 men; and he had hardly realized his loss, when he learned that Fort Edward, which stood between him and Canada, was in the possession of the enemy. No avenue of escape appeared open, and this fine army from Canada, consisting of five thousand seven hundred effective men, with General Burgoyne at their head, laid down their arms to the American General Gates, at Saratoga. Even according to the testimony of Lady Harriet Ackland, Burgoyne, though sufficiently brave for anything, was quite incompetent for command. He had neither resources nor strategy. He knew neither what to do nor what he was doing. He neither knew when to advance nor when to retreat. It was all haphazard with him. Through his very stupidity an army was positively sacrificed. Lord Cornwallis, afterwards, easily defeated Gates. And in the campaign of 1780, Washington was himself in straits. His commissariat was wretchedly bad. For days the medical department of his army had neither sugar, coffee, tea, chocolate, wine, nor spirituous liquors of any kind; and the army had not seen the shadow of money for five months. A junction cleverly effected between the two British armies might have changed, or rather checked the destinies of the Confederated Colonies. But, by the awkwardness, carelessness, and want of prudence of Burgoyne, in the first place, Cornwallis got also hemmed in, being intercepted on one side by the French fleet, and on the other by the army commanded by Washington, and he capitulated after his defeat at Yorktown, in September, 1781. Had a line of communication northward been maintained for the British army, even seven thousand men might have escaped the blockade of the sixteen thousand militia, under Washington, to whom the conqueror of Charleston was compelled, by the fortune of war, to present his sword. The stupidity of the British Generals, combined with the previous stupidity of the Imperial administrations, led to the evacuation of those colonies by Great Britain, to which she was in a great measure indebted for the acquisition of Port Royal and Louisbourg in Nova Scotia, and for Niagara, Frontenac, Montreal, and Quebec in Canada. The prediction of Montcalm had come to pass. The United States were independent. But, however much the war in America, between Great Britain and her own old colonies, had temporarily interfered with, it had paved the way for a more extended, commerce in Canada. There were men in New England who would not, on any account, be rebels. Many of these, with their families, sought an asylum in Canada, and the advancement of the Far West, on the British side of the lines, is, in no small degree, to be attributed to the integrity and energy of those highly honourable men. Canada was then entirely, or almost entirely, under military rule. It could not well be otherwise. The necessities of the times required unity of action. There was no room for party squabbling, nor were there numbers sufficient to squabble. The province, the population of which did not extend beyond Detroit, a mere Indian trading post, and beyond which it was expected civilisation could not be extended for ages, was divided into two sections, the western and the eastern. Sir Guy Carleton, afterwards Lord Dorchester, had divided all west of the monument of St. Regis into four districts, after the manner of ancient Gaul, which he termed Lunenburg, Mecklenburg, Nassau, and Hesse; and the Seminary of Quebec had cut up the eastern section into parishes, distinguished by cross roads. In the lower section of the province, the bonnets rouges and bonnets bleus were on the increase, but the increase was like that of the frogs: it was multiplying in the same puddle, with the same unchanging and unchangeable habits. The peaweeting, the whistling, the purring, and the whizzing, were only the louder, as the inhabitants became more numerous. There was no idea of change of any kind. Language, manners, and knowledge were the same as they ever had been: only the pomp of the church had succeeded to the pomp and circumstance of war. There was no more industry, no more energy, no more scientific cravings, and no earnest pursuit of wealth. All was contentment. Even by the authorities, no desire to awaken the Franco-Canadian from his slumber, was entertained. On the contrary, the restless United Empire loyalists were to be separated from them. The isolation of Lower Canada from the rest of the world was to be as complete as possible.