In 1643, Father Bressani having been taken prisoner by the Iroquois, and having heard them discuss a plan to seize on the white maidens of Sillery (such were the names the Nuns went by); wrote it on some bark, which a Huron Indian having found, took it to Governor Montmagny. The Governor then organized a guard of six soldiers, who each day relieved one another at Sillery, to watch over the village—the incursions of the savages increasing, the soldiers refused to remain any longer, and Governor Montmagny gave the Hospitalières the use of a small house on the beach of the river in the lower town. (Hist. de l'Hôtel-Dieu, p. 50.)
Francis Parkman furnishes interesting details of the arrival of Piesharit, a famous Indian chief, at Sillery in 1645, and of a grand council held by deMontmagny, in the Jesuits House, which exists to this day, probably the oldest structure of the kind in Canada, dating from 1637.
"As the successful warriors approached the little mission settlement of Sillery, immediately above Quebec, they raised their song of triumph and beat time with their paddles on the edges of their canoes; while, from eleven poles raised aloft, eleven fresh scalps fluttered in the wind. The Father Jesuit and all his flock were gathered on the strand to welcome them. The Indians fired three guns, and screeched in jubilation; one Jean Baptiste, a Christian chief of Sillery, made a speech from the shore; Pisharet repeated, standing upright in his canoe, and to crown the occasion, a squad of soldiers, marching in haste from Quebec, fired a salute of musketry, to the boundless delight of the Indians. Much to the surprise of the two captives, there was no running of the gauntlet, no gnawing off of finger-nails or cutting off of fingers; but the scalps were hung, like little flags, over the entrance of the lodges, and all Sillery betook itself to feasting and rejoicing. One old woman, indeed, came to the Jesuit with a pathetic appeal. "Oh, my father! let me caress these prisoners a little: they have killed, burned, and eaten my father, my husband and my children." But the missionary answered with a lecture on the duty of forgiveness.
On the next day, Montmagny came to Sillery and there was a grand council in the house of the Jesuits. Pisharet, in a solemn harangue, delivered his captives to the Governor, who replied with a speech of compliment and an ample gift. The two Iroquois, were present, seated with a seeming imperturbability, but great anxiety of heart; and when at length they comprehended that their lives were safe, one of them, a man of great size and symmetry, rose and addressed Montmagny." [191]
It would be indeed a pleasant and easy task to recall all the remarkable events which occurred in this neighborhood. One thing is certain, the cool retreats studding the shores of the St. Lawrence were equally sought for by the wealthy in those days as they have been since by all those who wish to breathe pure air and enjoy the scenery.
The Sillery settlement commenced to be deserted about the beginning of the last century. After the cession of Canada the care of the buildings was neglected, and they soon fell to ruins; but the residence of the missionary fathers was preserved, and the ruins of the other structures remained standing long enough to be susceptible of identification with certainty. Several of the old inhabitants recollect having seen the church walls demolished, and they were of great solidity. Abbé Ferland himself, twenty years ago, saw a portion of those walls standing above ground. The ruins of the hospital and the convent were razed about fifty years ago, and in demolishing them several objects were discovered, some of which must have belonged to the good ladies, the Hospitalières nuns.
For the benefit of those who might feel inclined to explore the remaining vestiges of M. Sillery's foundation, I shall furnish some details on the locality. About the centre of Sillery Cove can be seen a cape, not very high, but with its sides perpendicular. The position of surrounding objects point it out as the spot on which stood the fort intended to protect the village; there also, in a dry soil, stood the cemetery, from which several bodies were exhumed in the course of last summer (1854) At the foot of the cape, on your left, is the missionaries' house now converted into a residence for the clerks of Messrs. E. R. Dobell & Co. This building has been kept in repair, and is still in a good state of preservation. In a line with it, and nearest the St. Lawrence, can be discovered the foundation of the church. This edifice stood north-east and south-west.
Near the wall closest to the river ran a spring of water, perfectly clear, and, no doubt, used for the wants of the church and of the presbytery. Several other streams of excellent water run down the hill and intersect the grounds in all directions. No misconception can exist as to where the chapel stood, as there are still (in 1855) living several persons who saw the walls standing, and can point out the foundations which have since been identified and enclosed by stone pillars and chains. To the right of the small cape, and on a line with the chapel, stood the hospital, now deserted for more than two centuries. Over its foundation an elm has grown,—'tis now a handsome and large tree; six feet from the ground its circumference measures two fathoms (12 feet), which makes its diameter about three and a half. Heriot thus describes the locality in 1806:—
"From hence to Cap Rouge the scenery, on account of its beauty and variety, attracts the attention of the passenger. At Sillery, a league from Quebec, on the north shore, are the ruins of an establishment which was begun in 1637, intended as a religious institution for the conversion and instruction of natives of the country; it was at one time inhabited by twelve French families. The buildings are placed upon level ground, sheltered by steep banks, and close by the borders of the river; they now only consist of two old stone houses, fallen to decay, and of the remains of a small chapel (the chapel has of late been repaired and fitted up for a malt house, and some of the other buildings have been converted into a brewery). [192] In this vicinity the Algonquins once had a village; several of their tumuli, or burying places, are still discoverable in the woods, and hieroglyphics cut on the trees remain, in some situations, yet unaffected." [193]
On the 6th June, 1865, we determined to afford ourselves a long-promised treat, and go and survey, with Abbé Ferland's Notes on Sillery open before us, and also the help of that eminently respected authority in every parish, the "oldest inhabitant," the traces of the Sillery settlement of 1637. Nor had we long to wait before obtaining ocular demonstration of the minute exactitude with which our old friend, the Abbé, had investigated and measured every stone, every crumbling remain of brick and mortar. The first and most noticeable relic pointed out was the veritable house of the missionaries, facing the St. Lawrence, on the north side of the road, on Sillery Cove; it was the property of the late Henry Le Mesurier, Esquire, of Beauvoir. Were it in the range of possible events that the good fathers could revisit the scene of their past apostolical labours and view their former earthly tenement, hard would be the task to identify it. The heavy three-feet-thick wall is there yet, as perfect, as massive, as defiant as ever; the pointed gable and steep roof, in spite of alterations, still stands—the true index of an old French structure in Canada. Our forefathers seemed as if they never could make the roof of a dwelling steep enough, doubtless to prevent the accumulation of snow. But here ends all analogy with the past; so jaunty, so cosy, so modern does the front and interior of Sillery "Manor House" look—thus styled for many years past. Paint, paper and furniture have made it quite a snug abode. Nor was it without a certain peculiar feeling of reverence we, for the first time, crossed that threshold, and entered beneath those fortress- like walls, where for years had resounded the orisons of the Jesuit Fathers, the men from whose ranks were largely recruited our heroic band of early martyrs—some of whose dust, unburied, but not unhonoured, has mingled for two centuries with its parent earth on the green banks of Lake Simcoe, on the borders of the Ohio, in the environs of Kingston, Montreal, Three Rivers, Quebec—a fruitful seed of christianity scattered bountifully through the length and breadth of our land; others, whose lifeless clay still rests in yon sunny hillock in the rear, to the west of the "Manor House"—the little cemetery described by Abbé Ferland. Between the "Manor House" and the river, about forty feet from the house, inclining towards the south, are the remains of the foundation walls of the Jesuit's church or chapel, dating back to 1640. On the 13th June, 1657, fire made dreadful havoc in the residence of the Jesuits (Relations, for 1657, p. 26); they stand north-east and south-west, and are at present flush with the greensward; a large portion of them were still visible about thirty-five years ago, as, attested by many living witnesses; they were converted into ballast for ships built at this spot, and into materials for repairing the main road by some Vandal who will remain nameless. From the Manor House you notice the little cape to the south-west mentioned in Abbé Ferland's Notes, though growing smaller and smaller every year from the quantities of soil and stone taken from it, also to repair the road. The large elm pointed out by the Abbé as having grown over the spot where the hospital stood is there yet, a majestic tree. The selection of a site for the little cemetery is most judicious, several little streams from the heights in the rear filter through the ground, producing a moisture calculated to prevent decomposition and explanatory of the singular appearance of the bodies disinterred there in 1855. Every visitor will be struck with the beauty, healthiness and shelter which this sequestered nook at Sillery presents for a settlement, and with its adaptability for the purposes for which it was chosen, being quite protected against our two prevailing winds, the north-east and south-west, with a warm southern exposure.