"Monsieur Pierre Puiseaux, Sieur de l'habitation de Sainte Foye, after whom was, called Pointe-à-Pizeau, at Sillery, seems to have been a personage of no mean importance in his day. Having realized a large fortune in the West Indies, he had followed Champlain to Canada, bent on devoting his wealth to the conversion of the aboriginal tribes. His manor stood, according to the Abbé Ferland, on that spot in St Michael's Cove on which the St. Michael's Hotel [175]—long kept by Mr. W. Scott—was subsequently built, to judge from the heavy foundation walls there. Such was the magnificence of the structure that it was reckoned "the gem of Canada'—"Une maison regardée dans le temps comme le bijou du Canada," says the old chronicler. Paul de Chomedey de Maisonneuve having arrived, in 1641, with colonists for Montreal, the laird of Ste. Foye [176] generously tendered him the use of his manor. Under the hospitable roof of this venerable old gentleman, M. de Maisonneuve, Mlle. Mance, the founder of the Hôtel Dieu Hospital at Montreal, and Mdme. de la Peltrie spent the winter of 1641-2, whilst the intended colonists [177] for Ville-Marie were located close by in the Sillery settlement. During the winter, dissensions took place between the future Governor of Montreal, M. de Maisonneuve, and the then present Governor of Quebec, Chevalier de Montmagny. It appears that on a certain festival a small cannon and also fifteen musket shots had been fired without authority; His Excellency Governor Montmagny, in high dudgeon at such a breach of military discipline, ordered Jean Gorry, the person who had fired the shots, to be put in irons; Mlle. Mance had furnished the powder for this military display The future Governor of Montreal, Monsieur de Maisonneuve, is said to have, on this occasion, publicly exclaimed: "Jehan Gorry, you have been put in irons for my sake and I affronted! I raise your wages of ten half crowns (dix écus), let us only reach Montreal; no one there will prevent us from firing." [178] Bravo! M. de Maisonneuve! Peace, however, was restored, and His Excellency Governor Montmagny headed in person the expedition which, on the 8th May following, sailed from St Michael's Cove, Sillery, to found at Montreal the new colony. Monsieur Puiseaux accompanied M. de Maisonneuve, to take part also in the auspicious event, but his age and infirmities compelled Him soon after to return to France, where he died a few years subsequently, and by his last will, executed at LaRochelle on the 21st June, 1647, he bequeathed his Ste. Foye property to the support of the future bishops of Quebec. "The walls of the Sillery Chapel," says the historian of Canada previously quoted, "were still standing about thirty years ago, and the foundations of this edifice, of the hospital and of the missionary residency are still perceptible to the eye on the spot now occupied by the offices and stores of Hy. LeMesurier, Esq., at the foot of the hill, and opposite the residence of the Honourable Mr. Justice Caron."
"Amongst the French gentlemen of note who then owned lands at Sillery may be mentioned. François de Chavigny, sieur de Berchéreau qui," adds Abbé Ferland, "occupait un rang élevé dans le colonie. En quelques occasions, il fut chargé de remplacer le Gouverneur, lors que celui-ci s'absentait de Québec." Now, dear reader, let it be known to you that you are to look with every species of respect on this worthy old denizen of Sillery, he being, as the Abbé has elsewhere established beyond the shadow of a doubt, not only the ancestor of several old families, such as the Lagorgendières, the Rigaud de Vaudreuils and Tachereaus, but also one of the ancestors of your humble servant the writer of these lines.
"The Sillery settlement contained during the winter of 1646-7, of Indians only, about two hundred souls. Two roads led from Quebec to the settlement, one the Grande Allée or St. Louis Road, the other the Cove Road, skirting the beach. Two grist mills stood in the neighbourhood: one on the St. Denis streamlet which crosses the Grande Allée road (from Thornhill to Spencer Wood)—the dam seems to have been on the Spencer Wood property. 'This mill, and the fief on which it was built, belonged to M. Juchereau,' one of the ancestors of the Duchesnays. 'Another mill existed on the Bell Borne brook,' which crosses the main road, the boundary between Spencer Grange and Woodfield. Any one visiting these two streamlets during the August droughts will be struck with their diminutiveness, compared to the time when they turned the two grist mills two hundred years back: the clearing of the adjoining forests, whence they take their source, may account for the metamorphosis."
The perusal of the Rev. Mr. Ferland's work brings us to another occurrence, which, although foreign to the object of this sketch, deserves notice:—
"The first horse [179] seen in Canada was landed from a French vessel about the 20th June, 1647, and presented as a gift to His Excellency Governor Montmagny." Another incident deserving of mention occurs under date of 20th August, 1653. The Iroquois [180] surprised at Cap Rouge Rev. Father J. Antoine Poncet and a peasant named Mathurin Tranchelot, and carried them off to their country. For three days the rev. missionary was subjected to every kind of indignity from the Indian children and every one else. A child cut off one of the captive's fingers. He was afterwards, with his companion, tied up during two nights, half suspended in the air; this made both suffer horribly; burning coals were applied to their flesh. Finally, the missionary was handed over to an old squaw; he shortly after became free, and returned to Quebec on the 5th of November, 1653, to the joy of everybody.
His comrade, Tranchelot, after having had his fingers burnt, was finally consumed by fire on the 8th September, 1653. Such were some of the thrilling incidents of daily occurrence at Sillery two centuries ago.
What with breaches of military etiquette by M. de Maisonneuve's colonists, the ferocity of skulking Iroquois, and the scrapes their own neophytes occasionally got into, the reverend fathers in charge of the Sillery mission must now and again have had lively times, and needed, we would imagine, the patience of Job, with the devotion of martyrs, to carry out their benevolent views.
We read in history [181] how, on one Sunday morning in 1652, the Sillery Indians being all at mass, a beaver skin was stolen from one of the wig- wams, on which a council of the chiefs being called, it was decided that the robbery had been committed by a Frenchman, [182] enough to justify the young men to rush out and seize two Frenchmen then accidentally passing by, and in no wise connected—as the Indians even admitted—with the theft. The Indian youths were for instantly stripping the prisoners, in order to compel the Governor of the colony to repair the injury suffered by the loss of the peltry. One of them, more thoughtful than the rest, suggested to refer the matter to the missionary father, informing him at the same time that in cases of robbery it was the Indian custom to lay hold of the first individual they met belonging to the family or nation of the suspected robber, strip him of his property, and retain it until the family or nation repaired the wrong. The father succeeded, by appealing to them as Christians, to release the prisoners. Fortunately, the real thief, who was not a Frenchman, became alarmed, and had the beaver skin restored.
Old writers of that day occasionally let us into quaint glimpses of a churchman's tribulations in those primitive times. The historian Faillon tells some strange things about Bishop Laval and Governor D'Argenson: their squabble about holy bread. (Histoire de la Colonie Française en Canada, vol. ii., p. 467.) At page 470, is an account of a country girl, ordered to be brought to town by Bishop Laval and shut up in the Hôtel-Dieu, she being considered under a spell, cast on her by a miller whom she had rejected when he popped the question: the diabolical suitor was jailed as a punishment. Champlain relates how a pugnacious parson was dealt with by a pugnacious clergyman of a different persuasion respecting some knotty controversial points. The arguments, however irresistible they may have been, Champlain observes, were not edifying either to the savages or to the French: "J'ay veu le ministre et nostre curé s'entre battre è coup de poing sur le différend de la religion. Je ne scay pas qui estait le plus vaillant et qui donnait le meilleur coup; mais je scay tres bien que le ministre se plaignoit quelque fois au Sieur de Mons (Calviniste, directeur de la compagnie) d'avoir ésté battu et vuoidoient en ceste faccon les poincts de controverse. Je vois laisse à penser si cela éstait beau à voir; les sauvages éstoient tantôt d'un côté, tantôt de l'autre, et les François meslez selon leur diverse croyance, disaient pis que pendre de l'une et de l'autre religion." The fighting parson had evidently caught a tartar. However, this controversial sparring did not take place at Sillery.
The winter of 1666 was marked by a novel incident in the annals of the settlement. On the 9th of January, [183] 1666, the Governor of the colony, M. de Courcelles, with M. du Gas as second in command, and M. de Salampar, a volunteer, together with two hundred colonists who had volunteered, and three hundred soldiers of the dashing regiment of Carignan, [184] which the viceroy, the proud Marquis de Tracy, had brought over from Europe, after their return from their campaign in Hungary, sallied forth from the capital on snow-shoes. A century and a half later one might have met, with his gaudy state carriage and outriders, on that same road, another viceroy—this time an English one, as proud, as fond of display, as the Marquis de Tracy—with the Queen's Household Troops, the British Grenadiers, and Coldstream Guards—the Earl of Durham, one of our ablest, if not one of the most popular of our administrators. Let us now follow the French Governor of 1666, heading his light-hearted soldiers along the St. Louis road, all on snow-shoes, each man, His Excellency included, carrying on his back from 25 to 30 lbs. of biscuit, &c. The little army is bound towards the frontiers of New Holland (the State of New York) on a 900 miles' tramp (no railroads in those days), in the severest season of the year, to chastise some hostile Indian tribes, after incorporating in its ranks, during its march, the Three Rivers and Montreal reinforcements. History tells of the intense suffering [185] experienced during the expedition by these brave men, some of them more accustomed to Paris salons than to Canadian forest warfare on snow-shoes, with spruce boughs and snow-drifts for beds. But let us not anticipate. We must be content to accompany them on that day to the Sillery settlement, a march quite sufficient for us degenerate Canadians of the nineteenth century.