Canada; its Defences, Condition, and Resources / Being a third and concluding volume of "My Diary, North and South"

by Sir William Howard Russell

When I represented the importance of sending officers to the armies for the special purpose of examining and reporting on their condition, I was met by the reply that it would be a violation of neutrality to dispatch commissioners to the Federal army, unless similar officers were sent to the Confederate headquarters; and that it would not be possible to adopt the latter step, as the Washington Government would not grant them leave to go through the lines, and would resent the proposal. When some officers were at last dispatched with an official sanction to the army at Yorktown, they made their appearance in a forlorn, destitute, and helpless condition, which made their companions in arms blush for them.

For myself, I had every reason to believe that no objection would be made to my accompanying the army under General McClellan. Several senators who had given me their good wishes, were most desirous that I should be able to set off an account of a victory against the narrative of the retreat from Bull Bun. Although I had been recovering a little from the effects of the ludicrous and malignant falsehoods circulated against me up to the Trent affair, I was très mal vu in some quarters in Washington, and of course I was included in the general outburst against all British subjects with which the surrender of Mason and Slidell was accompanied.

In Canada I had recovered health and spirits; nay, more—some small shreds of popularity in the States. The secretaries of literary institutions renewed their requests for lectures, the autograph hunters sought the post-office once more with their flattering though ill-spelt missives; but there was no inducement to return to the States till the army of McClellan was actually about to take the field. The exploits of the army of the West had, indeed, attracted my eyes in that direction. The capture of Fort Henry and Fort Donelson promised well for its future career, but if I travelled so far out of my way I should have lost my chance of seeing the most brilliant and important campaign. The chief interest was certainly concentrated on the Potomac, and in the operations against Richmond. The West was far away, and it would have been a chance against my letters reaching home so as to anticipate the exaggerated illusions of the New York journals. And so I quietly waited and watched till the news from the States became so triumphant and decided that it behoved me to return, lest some important movement should take place on the Potomac. As I could not be with more than one army, I then resolved to follow the fortunes of McClellan’s great host, which indeed was regarded by Americans themselves with the greatest anxiety. And so, after a few days, I set about leaving cards and paying farewell visits to those who had so kindly entreated me in the City of the Strait.

The learned institutions, the libraries, the machinery of education, the various literary and scientific associations, and the admirable seminaries of Quebec, are most creditable to the community; they would place that city on a level with some of the most learned of European cities of far greater antiquity; and the public spirit and intelligence of its citizens have been fully evinced in the aid and support they have rendered to institutions designed for the spread of knowledge.

The public buildings have also the stamp of respectable antiquity upon them; none of them possess any considerable architectural merits, but several are exceedingly interesting. Constant fires have proved nearly ruinous to the buildings erected by the original settlers; and those which have been subsequently built are not remarkable for beauty—indeed, I may say that the Laval University is one of the plainest buildings it has ever been my lot to behold.

On all sides it is admitted that the nuns of the Ursuline Convent have conferred the greatest benefit upon the city by their unceasing devotion to the task of education. Many people of respectability—Protestants as well as Catholics—send their children to be educated by these excellent women, representing the system inaugurated more than 200 years ago by Madeleine de Chauvigny, who, moved by grief for the loss of her husband to devote herself to Heaven, and to the spread of the Christian faith, sailed forth from France, and, landing at Quebec, established schools for the Indian girls to learn the faith of the white race, which was destined to destroy their own.

The Ursuline Convent is a massive building, ugly as most convents of modern date are, standing amidst the houses of the city. The day I visited it there were no means of seeing the schools, and I was obliged to be content with a sight of the chapel instead. On ringing the bell by the side of a massive iron-bound door, I was admitted to the front of a grille, through which I conveyed my wishes to the unseen lady who demanded the purport of my visit; and, after a short delay, the clergyman attached to the service of the church was ready, and an old Swiss or porteress conducted me to the entrance of the chapel, which is of large size, of no pretensions to architectural beauty, and of little interest to me for anything but the fact that within its walls lie the bones of Montcalm.

The Ursulines, however, are of opinion that they have got a collection of paintings of merit, and I was called upon to admire some extraordinary specimens of art very nearly approaching the class denominated daubs, which were not recommended even by antiquity. Although the priest bore a pure Irish patronymic, he had never been in the British isles, having been educated in France, where he was born, whence he came out to Canada in the course of his ministry. He was an agreeable, intelligent, gentlemanly man, but he had evidently no faith in the pictures, and probably not much greater in some other remarkable decorations exhibited within the holy walls. The altar-piece and two or three subjects belonging probably to the old convent, rescued the collection from entire condemnation.

On the wall of the chapel, on the left-hand side from the entrance, there is a marble slab, on which are engraved the following words: “Honneur à Montcalm! Le destin en lui dérobant la victoire l’a récompensé par une mort glorieuse!” The graceful words are due to Lord Aylmer. Montcalm received his death-wound from a ball fired by the only piece of artillery which we could get up the heights; but like his great rival and conqueror he was wounded in the fight by a musket-shot at a comparatively early stage of the battle. Like Wolfe, too, Montcalm loved literature: “également propre aux batailles et aux académies, son désir était d’unir aux lauriers de Mars les palmes de Minerve.”