Arnold's little army had retreated to Pointe aux Trembles on the 15th Nov. On the 2nd December, 1775, they retraced their steps to Quebec and in the evening arrived at St. Foy. On the 12th of December, Henry [253] says "The officers and men still wore nothing else than the remains of the summer clothing, which being on their back, had escaped destruction in the disaster of the wilderness." At this time the snow lay three feet deep over the whole country. One fine morning a fellow addressed Simpson who was the only officer in quarters and said "that about two miles up the St. Lawrence lay a country seat of Governor Cromie's (Cramahé?) stocked with many things they wanted and he would be our guide. Carioles were immediately procured. The house, a neat box, was romantically situated on the steep bank of the river, not very distant from a chapel. [254] Though in the midst of winter the spot displayed the elegant taste and abundant wealth of the owner. The house was closed; knocking, the hall door was opened to us by an Irishwoman who, of the fair sex, was the largest and most brawny that ever came under my notice. She was the stewardess of the house. Our questions were answered with an apparent affability and frankness. She introduced us into the kitchen, a large apartment, well filled with these articles which good livers think necessary to the happy enjoyment of life. Here we observed five or six Canadian servants huddled into a corner of the kitchen trembling with fear. Our prying eyes soon discovered a trap door leading into the cellar. The men entered it; firken after firken of butter,—lard, tallow, beef, pork, fish and salt, all became a prey. While the men were rummaging below the lieutenant descended to cause more despatch. My duty was to remain at the end of the trap door with my back to the wall, and rifle cocked as a sentry, keeping a strict eye on the servants. My good Irishwoman frequently beckoned to me to descend; her drift was to catch us all in the trap. Luckily she was comprehended. The cellar and kitchen being thoroughly gutted, and the spoil borne to the carriages, the party dispersed into the other apartments. Here was elegancy. The walls and partitions were beautifully papered, and decorated with large engravings, maps, &c., and of the most celebrated artists. A noble view of the City of Philadelphia upon a large scale taken from the neighborhood of Cooper's Ferry drew my attention and raised some compunctive ideas; but war and the sciences always stand at arms length in the contests of mankind. The latter must succumb in the tumult. Our attention was much more attracted by the costly feather beds, counterpanes, and charming rose blankets, which the house afforded. Of these there was a good store and we left not a jot behind us. The nooks and crevices in the carioles were filled with smaller articles; several dozen of admirably finished case knives and forks; even a set of dessert knives obtained the notice of our cupidity. Articles of a lesser moment nor a thousandth part so useful, did not escape the all-grasping hands of the soldiery. In a back apartment there stood a mahogany couch or settee in a highly finished style. The woodwork of the couch was raised on all sides by cushioning, and costly covered by a rich figured silk. This to us was lumber, besides our carioles were full. However, we grabbed the mattrass and pallets all equally elegant as the couch. Having, as we thought, divested his Excellency of all the articles of prime necessity, we departed, ostensibly and even audibly accompanied by the pious blessings of the stewardess for our moderation. No doubt she had her mental reservations; on such business as this we regarded neither. Near the chapel we met a party of Morgan's men coming to do that which we had already done. The officer appeared chagrined when he saw the extent of our plunder. He went on, and finally ransacked the house, and yet a little more the stables. The joy of our men, among whom the plunder was distributed in nearly equal portions was extravagant. Now an operation of the human mind, which often takes place in society, and is every day discernable by persons of observation, became clearly obvious. Let a man once with impunity desert the strict rule of rules, all subsequent aggression is not only increased in atrocity, but is done without a qualm of conscience. Though our company was composed principally of freeholders, or the sons of such, bred at home under the strictures of religion and morality, yet when the reins of decorum were loosed and the honorable feeling weakened, it became impossible to administer restraint. The person of a Tory or his property became fair game, and this at the denunciation of some base domestic villain.
On the morning following December 13, the same audacious scoundrel again returned, and another marauding expedition started under his guidance to a farm "said to belong to Gov. Cromie (Cramahé?) or some other inhabitant of Quebec. It was further than the former scene." The farm-house, though low, being but one story, was capacious and tolerably neat. The barn built of logs, with a thrashing floor in the centre, was from 70 to 80 feet in length. The tenant, his wife and children shuddered upon our approach. Assurances that they should be unharmed relieved their fears. The tenant pointed out to us the horned cattle, pigs and poultry of his landlord. These were shot down without mercy or drove before us to our quarters. Thus we obtained a tolerable load for our caravan, which consisted of five or six carioles. "With this disreputable exploit marauding ceased. A returning sense of decency and order emanating from ourselves produced a sense of contrition. It is a solemn truth that we plundered none but those who were notoriously Tories and then within the walls of Quebec."
THE HIGHLANDS.
The range of heights extends from Spencer Wood, west, to the black bridge over the stream at Kilmarnock, gradually recedes from the road, leaving at its foot a spacious area interspersed with green pastures, lawns, ploughed fields and plantations. On the most elevated plateau of this range stands "The Highlands," a large substantial fire-brick dwelling, with an ample verandah, erected a few years back by Michael Stevenson, Esquire, merchant, of Quebec. The site is recommended by a fine view of the river St. Lawrence, an airy and healthy position, and the luxuriant foliage of the spruce, pine and maple in the background. The internal arrangements of the dwelling, whether regard be had to ventilation in summer or heating in winter, are on the most modern and improved plan. "The Highlands" lie above St. Michael's Cove teeming with historical recollections, a little to the west thereof, in front of St. Lewis road of historic renown, over which pranced, in 1663, the Marquis of Tracy's gaudy equipage and splendid body-guard wearing, as history tells, the uniform of the Gardes de la Reine. In Sept., 1759, [255] the Rochbeaucourt Cavalry, with their "blue uniforms and neat light horses of different colours," scoured the heights in all directions, watching the motions of the English fleet, which may be seen in the plate of the siege operations, lying at anchor at Sillery, ready, the huge black leviathans, to hurl destruction on the devoted city. In 1838, we remember well noticing Lord Durham's showy equipage with outriders, thundering daily over this same road: the Earl being a particular admirer of the Cap Rouge scenery. This seat has passed over, by purchase, to Chas. Temple, Esq., son of our late respected fellow-townsman, Major Temple, who for a series of years served in that 15th regiment, to whose prowess the Plains of Abraham bore witness during the war of the conquest. "The Highlands" are now occupied by J. W. Stockwell, Esquire.
WINTER FOX HUNTING IN CANADA.
From time immemorial, Merry England has been renowned for her field sports; prominent amongst which may be reckoned her exciting pastime of Fox-hunting, the pride, the glory, par excellence of the roystering English squire. Many may not be aware that we also, in our far-off Canada, have a method of Fox-hunting peculiarly our own—in harmony with the nature of the country—adapted to the rigors of our arctic winter season—the successful prosecution of which calls forth more endurance, a keener sight, a more thorough knowledge of the habits of the animal, a deeper self-control and greater sagacity, than does the English sport; for, as the proverb truly says, "Pour attraper la bête, faut être plus fin qu'elle." [256]
A short sketch [257] of a Canadian Fox-hunt may not, therefore, prove uninteresting. At the outset, let the reader bear in mind that Sir Reynard Canadensis is rather a rakish, dissipated gentleman, constantly turning night into day, in the habit of perambulating through the forests, the fields, and homesteads, at most improper hours, to ascertain whether, perchance, some old dame Partlett, some hoary gobbler, some thoughtless mother-goose, allured to wander over the farm-yard by the jocund rays of a returning March sun, may not have been outside of the barn, when the negligent stable-boy closed up for the night; or else, whether some gay Lothario of a hare in yonder thicket may not, by the silent and discreet rays of the moon, be whispering some soft nonsense in the willing ear of some guileless doe, escaped from a parent's vigilant eye. For on such has the midnight marauder set his heart: after such does noiselessly prowl, favoured by darkness—the dissipated rascal—querens quem devoret— determined to make up, on the morrow, by a long meridian siesta on the highest pinacle of a snow-drift, for the loss of his night's-rest. Should fortune refuse the sly prowler the coveted hen, turkey, goose, or hare, warmly clad in his fur coat and leggings, with tail horizontal, he sallies forth over the snow-wreathed fields, on the skirts of woods, in search of ground mice, his ordinary provender. But, you will say, how can he discover them under the snow? By that wonderful instinct with which nature has endowed the brute creation to provide for their sustenance, each according to its nature, to its wants. By his marvellously acute ear, the fox detects the ground mouse under the snow, though he should utter a noise scarcely audible to a human ear. Mr. Fox sets instantly to work, digs down the earth, and in a trice gobbles up mus, his wife, and young family. Should nothing occur to disturb his arrangements, he devotes each day in winter, from ten or half-past ten in the forenoon, to repose; selecting the loftiest snow-bank he can find, or else a large rock, or perchance any other eminence from which—
"Monarch of all he surveys"—
he can command a good view of the neighborhod, and readily scent approaching danger. Nor does he drop off immediately in a sound sleep, like a turtle-fed alderman; but rather, like a suspicious, blood- thirsty land pirate, as he is, he first snatches hastily "forty winks," then starts up nervously, for several times, scanning all around with his cruel, cunning eye—snuffing the air. Should he be satisfied that no cause of alarm exists, he scrapes himself a bed, if in the snow and, warmly wrapped in his soft fur cloak, he coils himself up, cat-fashion, in the sun, with his brushy tail brought over his head, but careful to keep his nose to the direction from which the wind blows, so as to catch the first notice of and scent the lurking enemy. On a stormy, blustery day, the fox will, however, usually seek the shelter of some bushes or trees, and on such occasion is usually found under the lee of some little wooded point, where, steeped in sweetest sleep, he can at leisure dream of clucking hens, fat turkeys, and tender leverets—sheltered from the storm, and still having an uninterrupted view before him. The hunter, when bent on a fox hunt, is careful to wear garments whose colour blends with the prevailing hue of frosted nature: a white cotton capot, and capuchon to match, is slipped over his great coat; pants also white—everything to harmonize with the snow; a pair of snow-shoes and a short gun complete his equipment. Once arrived at the post where he expects to meet reynard, he looks carefully about for signs of tracks, and having discovered fresh ones, he follows them, keeping a very sharp look-out. Should he perceive a fox, and that animal be not asleep, it is then that he has need of all his wits and of all the knowledge of the animal's habits he may possess. As previously stated, the fox depends principally on his scent, to discover danger; but his eye is also good, and to succeed in approaching within gun shot of him in the open country, the gunner must watch every motion most carefully, moving only when the animal's gaze is averted, and stopping instantly the moment he looks towards him, no matter what position the sportman's may be at that time. No matter how uncomfortable he may feel; move he dare not, foot nor limb; the eye of the fox is on him, and the least movement would betray him and alarm his watchful quarry. It will be easily conceived that to succesfully carry out this programme, it requires nerves of steel and a patience à toute épreuve. It has been the good luck of one of our friends once to approach thus a fox, within twenty feet, without his detecting him; needless to say, it was done moving against the wind. Some few hunters can so exactly imitate the cry of the ground mouse, as to bring the fox to them, especially if he is very hungry; but it is not always that this plan succeeds. The animal's ear is keen; the slightest defect in the imitation betrays the trap, and away canters alarmed reynard at railroad speed. Some sportsmen prefer to watch the fox, and wait until he falls asleep which they know he will surely do, if not disturbed, and then they can approach him easily enough against the wind. It is not unusual for them to get within fifteen feet of the animal, before the noise of their footsteps causes him to wake.—As may readily be supposed in such cases, his awakening and death are generally simultaneous.
It is a fact worthy of note, that the fox, if undisturbed, will every day return to the same place to sleep, and about the same hour. These animals are not as abundant as they were a few years back.