Our Little Quebec Cousin

by Mary S. Saxe

A cup of this strong brewing was prepared for little Oisette as a matter of course—which may explain why her complexion was so murky.

On this particular market day however, as she sat beside her father, the fresh September breeze gave her a very bright color, and her eyes were shining with excitement. Several lovely things had happened, all of which she would remember to tell her mother about when home was reached. First there was a band of music leading some fine-looking soldier boys along the road, and the tune was very catching. The boys were all singing "Over There" as they swung along. Then, because some road was closed for repairs, her father had driven into town by a new route and she saw, for the first time, a statue of the late King Edward the Seventh, which she admired very much. Then after the big market wagon rumbled down a very steep long hill, she saw the monument in Place d'Armes Square known as "The Landing of Maisonneuve."

This was an old friend, but she was never tired of looking at it, and knew all the figures about the base. There was the fierce Iroquois Indian crouching for his prey. There was the huntsman with his gun and dog; there was the sweet-faced nun, Jeanne Mance, who founded the order of Black Nuns in Canada, and then, atop of all, was the dashing French Cavalier Maisonneuve in his plumed hat, corselet and top boots. He was the founder of this great city of Montreal in the year 1642.

She was never tired of hearing the story of those early days as her father told it to her.

How the brave voyageurs had come to a land filled with hostile tribes of Indians. First these adventurous Frenchmen settled in Quebec, the city of Quebec was founded, and then Paul de Comedy, Sire de Maisonneuve, being anxious to follow up this great river St. Lawrence, coaxed his men to row with him the one hundred and sixty miles right against a swift current until they came to Mount Royal and beheld the swift rapids in the river; these are now called Lachine Rapids. So they decided to land and build another village.

One can read in Parkman's history a very clear picture of that scene, just at twilight when they stepped from their boats and tired as they were, they stopped to build an altar and hold a mass of thanksgiving to God for the safe journey. For lights on that altar, they imprisoned fireflies in bottles and the company all knelt on the ground while the mass was said. They were watched by hostile Iroquois Indians who lurked in the shadow of the trees.

All this was long long ago. There are no more Indians wearing blankets nowadays. But on this spot where mass was said rises the great solid city of Montreal with its two nationalities, French and English, trying to live in harmony.

This statue stands in Place d'Armes Square, just in front of the famous Notre Dame church, with its twin towers, two hundred and twenty-seven feet high. In these towers hang some famous chimes. One bell of this chime weighs twenty-four thousand seven hundred and eighty pounds and is known as the Great Bourdon. It takes seven men to ring it, and it has a deep booming note that is heard for miles.

There is a legend about this corner of the square where this church stands. It seems that there is always a breeze blowing just here, even the very hottest day in summer, and the story goes that on this corner the Devil and the Wind once met, and the wind as it swept up from the river and swirled around the corner said to the Devil: "I'll travel along with you," and Satan replied, "Before we start, I must go into this great church here and confess my sins, so you wait around this corner until I am done." And the wind said: "Very well, I'll hang around." Now, when the Devil got into the confessional, he had so many sins to confess that he is still there, and the wind still waits on that corner; waiting, waiting.