They were shown old spinning wheels, old churns, a curious wooden bread-making machine and a mammoth brick oven, where twenty loaves of bread could be baked with one firing. So one gathers that not all who lived in this château were gay idlers after all.
The most interesting vault was one leading out of these kitchens, as it was inky black owing to its having iron shutters, closed over closely barred windows. This, it is said, was where the family, the guests and all the servants had sometimes to hide from the Indians. When news came that some hostile tribe was entering the city all the women and children would be sent "en bas" (below).
After the English had taken Canada from the French, this same château was occupied by Sir Jeffry Amherst in his British uniform, and it is possible that from his garden he looked out over the river toward St. Helen's Island and watched the smoke and flame arise from the fire when General de Levis burned his colors rather than let them fall into English hands.
Then again, in 1775, the Chateau de Ramezay was the headquarters of the Continental army of America, and Commissioners met in the council chamber to try and untangle affairs after Montgomery's siege of Quebec had failed.
Benjamin Franklin was one of this commission, and down in the old vaults he set up the first printing-press that Canada ever had, and he issued manifestoes to the people.
"So, you see," said Miss Anstruther, as they finally left this famous spot, "that one building has housed first the French, then the English, and for a time some famous Americans, and nowadays tourists from all nations come to see its contents. It is the grandest relic of an illustrious past, and now, when you take up your history books and find the names of some of these men and women, they will seem more like people to you."
They had a long trolley ride into the west end of the city again, for they wished to reach the Grey Nunnery on the stroke of twelve, noon, for at this hour visitors are admitted to the Chapel.
At last the conductor rang his bell, stopped the car and called out—"Guy—Gee—Guy"—you see, "Guy" is the name of the street on which this convent has a visitors' entrance. The French pronunciation sounds like "Gee," and as the conductor gives both French and English names when he calls the streets it made the children all laugh to hear "Guy—Gee—Guy—Grey Nunnery for you, Madame." This convent, so called from the dress of its community, was founded in 1692, when Louis Fourteenth granted power to establish general hospitals and other institutions for the relief of the sick and aged poor in different parts of the country. In a cemetery under the chapel lie buried the bones of some of the sisters who long ago came from France to found this order in a barren land—they have the heart of the first Mother Superior preserved in alcohol, but this is shown only to a devout few.
A fire destroyed their first building, but the present convent has stood as it is about seventy years and over the main entrance is the inscription—"Mon père et ma mère m'ont abandonne, mais le seigneur m'a recivelli." The governess read this aloud to her charges and then translated it into "My father and my mother may forsake me but the Saviour will receive me."
This building of massive gray limestone occupies a whole block and houses one thousand souls. There are tiny babes whose parents have deserted them, there are older boys and girls, orphans, there are sick and aged old men and women, there are one hundred nuns and ninety novices to do all the work. All these lives are regulated by the sound of a convent bell.