Quebec
Summer
Argument
Author displays his vanity and
idleness—Subject begins—He shews his agricultural
knowledge—A mournful comparison— Some reflections on Canadian police—Pretty
markets—Lower Town occupations—Upper Town builders—Snow
mills—Not Caldwell’s—Advice to new comers—Some loyal sentiments
and some female occupations, with author’s good wishes—Summer and
flies—More discription and patriotic wishes—Farming not so good as
in England—How to get a [blank space] hay harvest—Sayling of
summer fleet—Plentious markets and peasants’ gardens— Pigeons with
wise reflections—Autumn, corn harvest—Thunder and lightning—Effects—Prejudice—Woodrafts
scows—Timber rafts—Barley—Brewery—Distillery—Much oblig’d to
author for his wishes—Landscape painters—Sportsmen and snipe—Frigate
and fur ships and trade—Fall fleet prepares and sails—Story brought
to an end.
When any writer takes a subject up
Which better pens before have treated on,
How great his disadvantage! how much more
Shou’d he the favor’d steps of Thompson tread!
Yet, why discourag’d be? We have no
hope
5
Of soaring near the height that he attain’d;
Our humble verse aims but to turn the hours
Of shipboard dullness to some small account
And if it please our friends our end is gain’d.
One thing we must promise—the frozen
clime
10
Of Canada two seasons only gives,
Winter full half the circling year absorbs;
Spring, summer, autumn, with such hasty steps
Each other press, as to be deem’d but one:
At least, permitted custom we shall
plead
15
To spare our reader’s patience and our time.
Stern winter quits his hold, some vestige still
Of snow in northern aspect left, remains,
And ice in streets, wich needs the wielded ax.
But soon ’tis gone; the little sail boats
now,
20
Across the bason swift their courses run
Chearing the snow tir’d eye. The dark brown herb
By quick degrees resumes a lively green,
The long bill’d woodcock, and the lesser snipe
Are now, and not in vain by sportsman
sought.
25
The earth, unbound, yields willing, to the edge
Of long neglected ploughshare;—this the time
While unabsorb’d the moisture, to prepare
Th’ensuing summer’s crop; and the rich grain
Which Britons e’er the winter give to
ground
30
Here, only now is sown: Nature’s great Lord
In this as all things else supremely good
Still watching o’er our wants in ev’ry clime.
The snow and ice now gone, the lively
sleigh
Erst as a feather light, now drags
along
35
Pond’rous and slow, as late the mournful sledge
Which Holborn’s Hill ascended, to the sound
Of St. Sepulchre’s melancholy bell:
By wheels ’tis now replac’d, and rude caleche
On leathern, or on sea-cow straps uphung,
40
More suited, certes, to Canadian roads
Than springs of steel by English carriage us’d;
Canadian roads! how much to be admir’d!
Canadian laws much more! which mend those roads,
Or leave them to be mended as they
can!
45
While wheels and carriages; and necks, and limbs
Of horses and of men endanger’d are
Almost at ev’ry step: surely ’tis shame,
While ample means are found in ev’ry rock
For forming good and solid roads, that
here
50
Th’ approach to Britain’s first provincial town
Shou’d ev’ry way be miserably bad!
Yet, let us hope, ’twill not be always so;
The spirit of improvement once begun,
Will soon extend itself around the
town,
55
And mend the rugged ways.
The farmers, all employ’d to till
the soil,
And seed to sow, scarce ought to market bring,
Save veal, their earliest produce; so that veal,
And veal, and nought but veal, each table
crowns
60
Limber, and thin; and red; not boasting age,
But eight, and six; nay four days old is brought
Palling at once the sight and appetite.
Now Providence again displays his care;
For, first the early shad the river
mounts;
65
Not such as in the Thames is often caught
But many times as large; and comes at once
In quantity to feed the country round.
Whith these come striped bass, more delicate
And not so plenty given; but follow’d
soon
70
By salmon large, shewing his silv’ry sides,
And sturgeon, which great London’s lordly May’r
Presents with pomp and state to Majesty;
Not here so highly honor’d, but in dirt,
Grov’ling he lies upon the Market
Square
75
Scarce heeded but by poor, nor finds a place
On any table delicately deck’d.
Nor want we smelts, by London cits admir’d,
Of larger size and equal flavor found.
Again the Lower Town begins to shew
80
Its busy faces hurry’ng to and fro,
While ev’ry eastern breeze some vessel brings
Either from western Indies freighted full,
From Greenock’s rising port, or Liverpool
And soon the shops display their earliest
store
85
Of Britain’s fashions, and of Britain’s goods.
The winter dress by all now laid aside
The troops their gay attire again display
And with their music cheer again the town:
The gardens smile, and as the sun mounts
high
90
Quick from the earth springs every latent seed,
And starts to life with steps so manifest
As almost seen to grow: the builders now
Their summer occupations recommence:
Wether the public edifice to
rear
95
Houses, for numbers still increas’d, to build
Or old ones to repair: here thy face
Dim-sighted prejudice, we see appear
Whom, not th’ experience of successive years.
Thy streets encumber’d all the summer
long,
100
Nor fire’s more dread effects, will e’er convince,
Or make thee, in a more effectual way
Thy chimnie flues construct; which now, all rough,
And full of holes retain the soot within
And magazines of fuel, form for
fires
105
Which oft consume this shingle-cover’d town.
Up springs the corn, the fields all
green appear
The trees so lately bare, now feather’d full
With foliage divers, beautiful appear:
The genial showr’s are shed; the sun grows
hot;
110
The spring in summer’s lost e’er yet begun:
Rivers of melted snow from mountain side
By rude mechanic stop’d and pass’d thro’ mill
Their rustic timbers saw;—the mill itself
Scarce for convenience form’d, not
elegance,
115
Requires a torrent’s force to make it work:
The torrent now subsides; and till next year
The mill, of power bereft, neglected lies.
The country saw mill this,—we here not speak
Of all those works of more refinèd
art:
120
For corn and timber, each, or both design’d,
Which, Caldwell, on thy lands we frequent see,
Thy lands, which both sides, on St. Lawrence bound
Thy lands, which from Point Levi, up the tide,
Beyond Chaudiere’s fam’d bason, far
extend
125
Forming at once a large and rich domain.
While yet the rivers, all with snows
are swol’n
We should advise the trav’ler, just arriv’d,
To visit Chaudiere’s and Morency’s falls;
Nor should he pass Lorette unheeded
by,
130
Their greatest beauty now, while yet their streams
With high swoln current, rushing o’er the steep,
Fill ev’ry chasm, and hide each pointed rock;
For now they charm the pleas’d and raptur’d eye
With fulness and effect, not to be
found
135
By those who haply would these scenes explore
I’ summer’s driest time. Nor pester’d now
With flies, or gnats, which here mosquito hight,
And which, from woodland scenes, all pleasure drive.
Now fast the day approaches which
reminds
140
Each loyal Briton of the birth of him,
Whom all-indulgent Heaven so long has lent,
To rule our favor’d realm with mildest sway:
To celebrate this day all hearts prepare;
Right anxious looks the fair for London’s
fleet;
145
For now, on board this fleet, each costly suit
Of newest fashions form’d, and doom’d to grace
The Birthnight Ball, is stow’d; not anxious more
The merchant, who to stormy winds and seas,
His substance whole, and credit too,
confides.
150
Each tide, each wind, they watch and shou’d at last
The dear desired fleet in time arrive,
No rest the merchant, nor the master knows
Until th’expected cargo’s landed safe
Display’d, and fitted o’er and o’er
again:
155
The milliner now finds a ready sale,
With crowded shop, for all her costly wares.
Each one admires, and buys; each one, her taste
At Birthnight Ball, as fashion bids, displays
And as, most late, in Britain, things were
worn.
160
Daughters of Britain, in wha[t]ever clime,
Think not these ardors we would e’er repress
Which tend to shew th’attachment of your hearts
To all your country’s fashions; much less when
With loyalty and love ye
celebrate
165
His birth, whose life’s whole study is our good.
Now summer rises fast, and up the tube
The merc’ry flies, nearly to reach that height
At which in torrid zone it takes its stand;
Windows, which late were clos’d, nay pasted
fast
170
Now always open stand, to let the breeze
Pass freely tho’ each av’nue of the house.
Now teems the air with flies; of all the plagues
Spread over Egypt’s land by Moses’ rod
Flies must have been most teazing, if not
worst,
175
(The plague of ev’ry summer in this place,)
Doubtless for wisest ends created, and endued
With endless perseverance, to return
To spot from whence they’re driven; teaching Man
That virtue Patience call’d.
180
If common flies, in town, so hard t’endure
Much more the sand-flie and mosquito tribe
Are found by those who, fond of fisher’s sport,
Pursue the stream o’er hung with pendant wood.
Scarce Nature’s self can bear’t, and the
sport
185
Of salmon, or of trout is dearly bought,
For down the neck and ears and temples, see
The blood fast trickling down; the swollen head
Scarcely appears to be of human kind:
And often many days are ta’en to
cure
190
The ravages of insects in an hour:
Not always thus for season’d to the clime
Either the skin gets tougher, or the flies,
Find not the juices suited to their taste
For European strangers please them
most.
195
Each day fresh ships arrive; the
merchants now
Their speculations make, in hopes of gain,
And corn, and flour and lumber send away;
The first our tropic islands to supply,
The latter Britain’s self receives. And
here
200
Take we for once the leave t’express our hope
That Britain soon will take to nearer view
Th’importance of this province to her state:
Give but th’encouragement and means, and soon
Its fish, its staves, its flour more perfect
made
205
Will to her island prove a sure resource
More plenteous than believ’d, while its vast woods
Already to her navy send its masts:
Hemp to the clime’s congenial, and but wants
Th’example of an enterprising
hand
210
To shew to what extent it can be grown:
Iron of the toughest kind is here procur’d
Equal if not superior to the Swedes’;
And pitch, and tar can never rare be call’d,
When woods of pine of such extent are
found
215
Such the resource which Britain can obtain
From her own provinces, and not depend
On foreign nations for her very nerves.
The country now assumes an aspect gay
The corn shoots high, the grass is sprung, and
all,
220
The prospect of a plenteous harvest gives;
But here, not England’s beauties do we find,
Not fields high dress’d by cultivation’s arts
And clean from weeds and trash of ev’ry sort:
Not so Canadian farming:—through the
lands
225
Thistles with corn grow up, and shed their down;
While o’er the field for hay design’d, behold
The rankling marguerite its influence spread,
Whit’ning the field, as cover’d late, with snow,
Which if not rooted out with care, the
grass
230
Will choak and of its food deprive the beast.
How beautious is the bason of Quebec
In summer garb attir’d; full oft I’ve wish’d,
From deck of vessel in its center moor’d,
T’have ta’en its separate views, which join’d in
one,
235
[Blank
line]
While singly, each, in self, is beautiful,
And highly interests a Briton’s mind,
For the whole amphitheatre contains
The scenes of action of renowned Wolfe
In Britain’s histr’y gloriously
famed.
240
The grass now ripens fast the scythe
prepar’d
And quick the hay lies prostrate on the ground,
Not, as in Britain, many days to lie,
There to be turn’d, return’d, and turn’d again,
Lest not sufficient dry, it fire the
stack;
245
Here,—one day cut, the following perhaps
Will find it cock’d and into bundles tied
Which, third day safely lodges into barn
(So quick the moisture ’vap’rates with the sun)
Yet not so high in flavor, nor so
good
250
As English hay, prepar’d and stack’d with care.
The summer convoy now is on the
underweigh
And gently gliding down the placid stream
Adds to the beauties of the charming scene;
Nor, from the harbor, scarce this fleet is miss’d
255
So thick the wharves are crouded still with ships
While to their absent friends each one employs
The ready pen, his cares or joys to tell.
The markets all, with store of every
kind,
Poultry, and fish, and fruit most rich
appear
260
Nor want we ought of vegetable kind
Which bounteous nature gives; not that the soil
Except in town is work’d with proper care:
The peasant’s gardens left to female hands
Who sow and plant and dig:—not dig but
hoe
265
A patch sufficient for their yearly meed,
Leaving the sides to rank and noisome weeds
Which injure much their crop, and symetry destroy.
The annual flights of pigeon now
appear;
Of breed peculiar, and in numbers
vast,
270
Who swiftly urge their flight to distant climes;
These, a repast delicious, nature gives
To savage man, while yet in woods confin’d,
But, as the land is clear’d, and his full food
By agriculture’s num’rous means
ensured,
275
No more to such precarious supplies
Can he for aught but pastime e’er resort.
For as the woods are clear’d, wild beast and fowl
Will daily from the haunts of man recede.
Autumn advances fast on summer’s
heels—
280
So fast, that often, ere the grass is down,
The corn demands the reaper’s ready hand.
Nor must it be delay’d; for at this time
The thunder famous e’en in temp’rate climes
Here, it is daily, almost constant
known,
285
Attended oft with gusts of wind and rain,
As lays the crop, no more to rise again;
The vivid lightning strikes; and all the woods
In every direction bear the marks
Of its most dire effects; the lofty
pine,
290
And sturdy oak, cleft to their nether base,
Their branches rudely torn, stand, ’reft of life:
Not always ‘scapes the town, the lightning’s blast
(Attracted by Cape Diamond’s iron ore,)
When full of mischief frought as late beheld—
295
The lofty buildings feel th’ electric flame
Crumbling to atoms all the works of Man
Nay, man himself, with strong, resistless pow’r.
The corn is cut, again the bainful
sway
Of prejudicial custom here
prevails,
300
For, not in shocks ‘tis plac’d with ears set up,
And tha[t]ch’d, if need be, with a sheave revers’d,
As oft in Europe seen, to guard from rain
Till dry enough to house from further harm.
No; flat on ground as soon as cut, ’tis
laid,
305
The ear to ripen quicker;—reas’ning false!
For, ev’n should rain not fall, the nightly dew
And moisture of the earth, the grain will swell,
And into action bring its quick’ning pow’rs:
But, should the thunder cloud with pondrous
drop
310
Shed its contents, o’er corn just newly reap’d,
Each year’s experience shews, that quick, the soil
Receives the striking germ, and spoils the grain.
Yet scarce will farmers e’er persuaded be
To alter customs sanction’d by their
sires.
315
Now down the stream from upper country’s
lands
Float many a raft with firewood fraught; to check
The sad effects of future winter’s cold;
These all the shores beset but quick unpack’d,
Are carted off at purchasers’
command;
320
The [blank space] appears, laden with many a cask
Of flower in upper Province made, which late
Is o’er the rapid streams, with safety brought:
T[h]ro’ whirl pools, rocks and shoals, strong proof of what
By perseverance man can bring to
pass;
325
With these, the timber rafts, of wide extent,
At distance, semblance bearing of a fleet,
Of many sail compos’d, come slowly down
And cargoes fine, for naval use provide
Of oak and massy pine, perhaps as
large
330
As those from Norway, or from Rija brought.
Now ev’ry hand’s employ’d. The
harbor full
Of ships appears, with colours streaming gay
Either unloading cargoes just arriv’d,
Or taking in their lumber or their
wheat
335
Such as the crop will spare: the barley here
Of late has been consum’d, or made in beer
Or ale, by brewer well prepar’d,
Or still’d in whisky’s form, whose dire effects
Apparent is to those who’ve known the
land,
340
By drunkenness more frequent than of old;
Sure ’twere the best of policy to stop
By taxes high the ardent spirit’s use,
Of which no one is ign’rant; and to give
Encouragement to use of wholesome
beer,
345
Enjoyment to the peasant to afford,
And not produce destruction to his frame:
Yet little hope have we, that thoughts like these
Will alter rev’nue laws, or private int’rest curb.
The short’ning days and chilly
nights
proclaim
350
The leaves’ approaching fall; yet still the sun
In mild October shines serenely bright;
All vari’d now the woods, and colours gay
Purple and red and yellow, o’er the trees
Replace the lively green. The season
this,
355
Preferr’d by landscape painter for the tints
More warm and beautiful his scenes adorn
Wether in morning, with the rising sun
The gen’ral grey diffuse its mild effect,
Or the full purple of his setting
rays
360
Blends Nature’s contrasts, and delights the eye.
The sportsman now his dogs and gun
prepares
And for the snipe, scours all the nearer shores,
The riv’lets course, the swamp, nor e’er returns
Without a portion, which on Britain’s
soil
365
Would satisfy his labor and his skill.
Not here so soon content; Ange-Gardien’s shore
For him prepares a scene his skill to try
And glut his utmost fancy for the sport:
For this he now prepares; he wraps his
feet
370
In many a woolen sock, and o’er his legs
Draws on the beef-skin boot with grease well soak’d.
These boots for elegance of shape contend
With those which Fisherman on Thames adorn
And for like uses form’d,—with store of
shot
375
Of powder, dogs and food, away he goes,
Soon to return with many a snipe surcharg’d.
Along the stream which parts Orleans Isle
From lofty banks of Montmorency’s falls
A village lies, Ange-Gardien call’d, whose
shores
380
Left by each tide, presents a bank of mud,
Thro’ w[h]i[c]h the reed and water grass appear;
At ev’ry season this the haunt of snipe,
Who here by thousands croud and here get fatt.
Hither the sportsman comes year after
year
385
And, dragging thro’ the mud each hinder leg
Arrives to where the bird their food collect,
On strand by tide new lav’d;—the trusty dogs
With steady point give notice of the prey;
And tho’ in flights they rise,—no sportsman
he,
390
Unless his bird selected from the rest,
He fairly fetches down;—many there are
Who thus a number back to Quebec bring,
Which to European ears we dare not tell,
While others, not regarding laws of
sport,
395
Let fly amidst the flock by numbers kill
Would stock a country round, but here might not.
Now thro’ Quebec, behold, in ev’ry
house
The stove uprear’d with pipe of sable hue:
The pile of wood encumbers ev’ry
yard;
400
And coming winter by all things is shewn;
The frigate for the convoy now arrives
And down the upper stream appear the ships
Which, with a single voyage in the year
To Montreal repair, and which the
skins
405
Of many thousand of the furry tribe,
Now bring, England not only to supply,
But thence, the continent of Europe’s self
And distant China’s Emp’ror perhaps.
This the trade, tho’ gain’d by enterprize
410
And individual hardship patient borne,
While o’er the extensive western lands they roam—
Yet this the trade which yields the best return
Of any follow’d by Canadia’s sons.
The ships ariv’d, the fleet prepares
to
sail;
415
The merchant closes his accounts, and duns
All those whose payments not forthcoming are:
His bills he now remits for goods receiv’d
Each one his order sends for ensuing year;
Each one his letters to his friends
prepare;
420
Each with regret the fleet views under sail
And all to fleet and summer, bid farewell.
Finis.
Winter
Argument
Story begins with simile—Preparations and departure
of last ship— Cold work—Writer’s benevolent wishes—Colder still—Beginning
of idleness—Carioles—Dress—Appearance of Beau—Reflections on
good living—And on poverty as fate at Quebec—More fruitless good
wishes—Tommy codfishing—Restoration—Bad skating— Advice to
cariole drivers and to ladies—Pretty way of makeing and of spoiling
roads—Address to prejudice—How to preserve stock— And how to
consume it—Barons Club—More good reflections— Road, and dangers on
bason—Passage from Point Levi— Peasants’ winter employments—Present
customs—Hospitaliy—Christmas its ceremonies and enjoyments—Doctrine
of fluids how exemplified—Thaw—Its effects—And of succeeding frost—Mardigras—its
pleasures both to horse and man—Lent its deprivations—More parties—Lorette—Pont
at Chaudiere and perhaps at Quebec—Amusements on ice—Good Friday and
Easter—Ice houses—View from Cape—Montmorency’s Cone—Escape of
a party—St. Charles River—Ice breaking up pretty streets—Clear sky—Hotbeds—River
craft—Expectation of vessels—Arrival of first one—Its welcome—
Poem concludes.
As the fond matron, whose beloved lord
To tented fields or foreign clime, departs,
Seems, with his loss, existence’ self to lose,
(Save the small comfort minist’red by friends,
Which soon she must forego) so now, thy
face,
5
Quebec, its dreary aspect shews. St. Lawrence stream
Of all her fleets bereft looks desolate,
And blank, the straggling vessel still whose crew
Refract’ry, or whose cargo incomplete,
Regales the longing European
eye,
10
With something which of home his soul reminds;
But now! November’s wintry blast blows keen,
The icy sleet, and the heart-chilling frost,
Bring in the wand’rers and the industrious urge
To many fold exertion, and departure
press
15
Lest the dread fate of Anticostie’s Isle
At this late season ’wail them.
At length the topsail loos’d and
waving flag
Proclaims her near departure; while the pens
Of ev’ry class are busily employ’d;
20
Wether in commerce’ num’rous plans; in claims
Of friends, or interest’s hopes: all are content;
Each face with bus’ness mark’d; each hasten’d step
Bespeaks the mind’s employ soon to give place
To dissipation’s round, and pleasure’s gay
pursuit.
25
And now! the crackling sail reluctant mounts
And, with the bleak north eastern blast, each rope
Like limb rheumatick, stiffening and cold,
Its wonted use resists; hard now the task!
Point Levi turn’d, soon from our view, the
ship
30
For six long months is hid; while of the gale
The hardy pilot make[s] his utmost use
His office to fulfil; when soon the air,
Saline and more congenial, spirits gives,
And strength to meet the ocean’s arduous
cares.
35
Oh! may no snow storm in the dreaded gulph
With eastern blast and thick’ning icy wave
Spreading its mingled horrors, darkness, cold
Shoals and tremendous rocks; with shipwreck death
Or winter unprovided, on the
shore,
40
Unpress’d by foot (save of the savage tribe
Of man or beast) her progress counteract!
But rather that with prosp’rous voyage blest,
Their friends with joy may meet them! and that ours
With pleasure may our welcome lines
receive!
45
And join their hopes with ours, that yet e’er long
Together, and with chearful steps we tread,
Our native soil, dear to each Briton’s breast.
Return we to Québec: commerce stands
still,
The river-craft,—of sails and yards unrigg’d,
50
With deck forlorn, and naked mast, on shore
The Cul-de-Sac does fill; save when the ship
Unstately stranded, or of men bereft,
Is here oblig’d to winter; more forlorn,
More desolate than they; while ev’ry
tide
55
Its frozen fragments heaps to bind them there,
Each creek, each shore an icy edge displays,
Increasing constantly;—but when the morn
Her influence with eastern blast combin’d
Their bonds break loose, then o’er the River
wise
60
Their floating fragments scatter to and fro;
Thus each returning tide, they pass, unless
By shore arrested, they the [blank space]
Of wide extended bridge or icy bridge.
Far diff’rent now the scene; all bus’ness
o’er
65
And almost from the world shut-out, the mind
To pl[e]asure’s influence yields; all ranks now ere,
Foremost in social intercourse; the dance
Is now propos’d, the sumptuous dinner plann’d
And countrieparties form’d. Yet still they
wait
70
The fleecy falling snow; nor long need wait,
For reg’lar with returning moon, the clouds
Pour forth their drear contents, and o’er the herb
Dusky, and brown, their silv’ry mantle spreads
Shielding from winter blast and biting
frost,
75
Each year’s prospective hope.
Now on the snow the various cariole,
Splendid, or plain, as suits the owner’s taste,
With mettled steed high dress’d, and harness bright,
Or water-bearing horse, with oats scant
fed
80
Are seen in all directions chief with those
Who to the country new, its modes would try,
Its novel scenes enjoy: to them, its furrs,
Its grotesque dress, for warmth contriv’d,
Not elegance, seem more than is requir’d;
85
Yet when successive winters shew their use;
Or when rheumatic pains their limbs attack
Their sad mistake regret; tho’ some there are
Who as much overdo the country’s wants
And cov’ring upon cov’ring loading
on
90
Are more by heat than cold oppress’d. And thus
Their frame enfeebling, those disorders court
Which most they would avoid.
Strange would the high dress’ beau
appear who late
From London’s gayest walks arriv’d, and
who
95
In this far distant spot its fashions brought
By us admir’d and copied—where he now,
Like Fortunatus (as the legends tell)
Set down at will amongst his gayest friends
In true Canadian costume;—on his
head
100
The Martin cap of right [blank space]
As thy lov’d pen, oh Tristram, has describ’d
On head of Corporal:—perhaps to grace
The shoulders of our Bond Street beau, he wears
An ample beaver coat; his neck, a
bear
105
Provides with tippet warm, crossing his breast
And back, there fasten’d:— on his feet
Are leggins drawn, and true Canadian shoe
Of beef skin made, fill’d full with store of socks
Or, with thick woolen stocking o’er his
boots
110
His legs and feet are shrouded; while his hands,
In great fur gloves envelop’d, seem like paws
Of brother bear; nor very different
In elegance of shape, or outward shew
They seem, when on two legs each graceful
moves.
115
Now winter’s dissipation full
commenc’d
The invitation diverse, on all sides
Accepted and return’d. See o’er the board
Profusion spreads his costly fare, with wines
Of all descriptions; nor to outward
view
120
Will means seem wanting to uphold the scene
What e’er at times it cost them; far from me
Be the intent to stop the social band
Or intercourse most friendly to deter.
Too well I feel their value, thro’ life’s
path
125
To smooth each rugged and uneven spot.
Yet could I wish, that social intercourse,
That friendship’s ties and companie’s allure,
Might with less state and less expense be mixt;
So might those social hours thus less alloy’d
130
With worldly cares, more heartfelt pleasures know.
Perhaps, wer’t so, too strong the excitement found
Might other more essential concerns
Of parent, family, and friend absorb,
And its own end defeat. [blank space]
135
Turn we from life’s gay scenes and
festive boar[d],
From mazy dance, and dissipating round
To view the poorer sort in this cold clime,
And see what lot they find; perchance some good
May hence arise; would to heaven ’twere
mine
140
To point some mode by which th’ industrious poor
And sickly object wand’ring in these streets
Might find his lot amended, health restor’d
And his returning labor cheerful giv’n.
Nor need we sect or tenet to
prescribe
145
Bounds to such act as this: each honest man
To poverty reduc’d, with sickness worn,
Should heaven born charity’s broad influence feel
As fall the dews of heav’n; then be our cares
Restrain’d by nought but vicious
impudence
150
Imposture’s wiles, and shameless idleness.
O’er all th’ industrious poor this
clime bears hard,
But chief on those who work in open air,
Wether to navigate St. Lawrence’ course,
To out door building, or the lab’rer
part,
155
Who there or on the wharf their pittance earn—
To these the Summer’s transcient course is short,
And oft by backward seasons short’ned still,
While this scant time, not only life’s support
But fuel for the Winter must
provide
160
Clothing, and rent and food: for Winter stern!
Small and precarious are thy supplies!
Wether the cord-wood to prepare to heat
Another’s fire, or from his door remove
The snow’s deep drifted bank; sources
alas!
165
Too few for ev’n the hardy to employ.
What then supports the sick’ning wretch whom want
Of proper food, and warmth lays down! or he
Who still possessed of vigor, is bereft
By accident innum’rous the
power
170
Of urging Nature’s means for her support?
Here the sad tale begins:—not Britain’s laws
For poverty’s support, are here in force;
Or if in force, employ’d; no parish house
Opens its hospitable doors to
greet
175
The poor whom thousand human ills has forc’d
To seek his fellow’s aid! No means are here
Of work provided, where the honest heart
Proud of its feelings, but who cannot beg
And rather than to ask his bread, would
die
180
Where ev’n he, might find employ, and eat,
And on his earnings hope for better times:
Nor aught, save the precarious [word erased and illegible]
Or church collections, or the written pass,
By magistrate’s authority, to
beg
185
That aid from house to house, which better were
Provided by the public: means how small
For six months’ winter! Far be here from me
The Gen‘ral Hospital and Hotel Dieu
To pass unheeded by; the lib’ral
aids
190
Their means and rules permit are freely given,
And many a pining wretch is snatch’d from death
Yet cir[remainder of word erased and line blank]
Of those who need, can gain admittance there.
May we at some not very distant
time
195
’Mongst all thy late improvements, see arise
On broad and gen’rous basis fixt, the means
Of nourishing the worn out poor, and those
Whom sickness or misfortune leave unfit
To gain their daily bread! and work to
give
200
To those more able, who such aid require.
Now on th’ indented shore, and riv’lets’
mouths
Fast forms the ice, which rising with each tide
Floats in majestic state, and o’er th’ expanse
Of fam’d St. Laurence, to and fro is
borne,
205
By ev’ry tide encreas’d: thy tribute scream
St. Charles its surface cover’d o’er,
And firmly bound displays a diff’rent scene
For now! a village all at once appears
Of huts uprear’d with ice, where men and
boys
210
For tommy cods their fishery pursue;
Nor by the cold deterr’d: and strange to tell
Yet by each year’s experience verified,
The fish when hard and stiff’ned with the cold
To all appearance dead, will oft
revive
215
When into water plac’d: so near their blood
Is to the season’s temp’rature allied.
The skater here his circling mazes
shews
For little while; too soon the ice is lost
By overwhelming snows, not to be clear’d,
220
As in more temp’rate England’s clime, by men,
Nor, if at times left bare, by chance, or drift,
Such pleasure will its flinty surface yield,
Cracking and splint’ring ’neath the skate whose edge
Scarce any hold can take; more pleasant
now
225
In cariole high deck’d and [blank space]
The fair to drive, while scarce by road confin’d
Nor by the jolt of cahos yet disturb’d:
Smooth is the surface, bright the sun, like life
Whose early scenes nor care nor hardships
know.
230
Let not the fair deceiv’d by early sun,
Ride out too thinly clad; nor his warm coat
And most his gloves, the driver want for soon:
The bleak north-west, the ready fall’n snow,
In piercing drifts may raise; or low’ring
east
235
Its storms pour forth; and e’er to town return’d
The drive for pleasure meant be fraught with pain
Chilling the very heart:—ev’n so in life,
Would I each youth, each fair, with prudence arm
That not its chilling blasts, its storms, its
cares,
240
May in the ev’ning of their days, disturb
Their calm return to home, that home where all
To happiness or mis’ry must return.
Now rising to our view, we see each
road
O’er all the snow clad country marking
out
245
With boughs of spruce; without aid full oft
The flound’ring horse, and ’wildered traveller
Their way would lose, and plunging into depth
Of drifted snow, might unregarded die.
Nor long e’er these new roads are trodden
hard
250
By market sleigh, and as each frequent snow
Its fresh deposit leaves, full soon are fill’d
By heavy laden wood slays retched form
With undulating cahos, deep and broad,
Which all the pleasures of a Winter’s
ride
255
Destroy, and give a motion quite as bad
As ship by head sea top’d: and if perchance
A train of sleighs you meet, the narrow road
Gives you with difficulty breadth to pass
Without an hurt; or into snow o’er whelm’d,
260
You’re left to gather up your store of skins,
Of cushions, passengers, and whatever else
The cariole contain’d: yet safe from harm
Th’adventure serves to make the laugh as round.
Thy baneful influence we again
deplore
265
Dim sighted prejudice, who the beaten path
Wouldst always tread, and ’gainst improvement bland
Settest thy stubborn face; not the experience
Of thy neighbour states, nor the pow’r of him
Who thrice thy sov’reign’s delegated
sway
270
O’er all this country bore, could ough[t] avoid
To form the double path or change the shaft
Which now the [blank space]
Whate‘er is from authority prescribed
To counteract: howe’er the good design’d.
275
The frost well set, and cattle hous’d,
e’er yet
The Christmas sports begin, the farmer now
To spare his fodder, and his daily toil
To lessen, sharply sets the murd’rous knife
And stock of every kind profusely
bleed
280
The markets to supply; for rightly pack’d,
And thaws not intervene, safely ’tis kept
Until the sun’s returning influence
Makes it no longer needful; while each morn
[Manuscript ends.] |
Summer
4 |
Thompson James
Thomson (1700-1748), the author of The Seasons, a series
of four poems entitled "Spring," "Summer,"
"Autumn," and "Winter" that were first
published together in 1738 and subsequently printed in several
revised and corrected editions.
|
10 |
clime Region,
country.
|
21 |
the bason The
bay and harbour on the St. Lawrence below Quebec City.
|
35 |
Erst Formerly.
|
36-38 |
the mournful sledge…Holborn’s
Hill…St. Sepulchre… Prior to the
abolition of the Tiburn procession in 1783, criminals destined
for public execution in London, England were taken on sledges
from Newgate prison (the Old Bailey) in the parish of St.
Sepulchre, up Holborn and along St. Giles to the gallows at
Tyburn (Marble Arch).
|
39 |
caleche Calèche:
a two wheeled carriage drawn by a single horse, built to carry
the driver and two passengers.
|
43-44 |
Canadian roads…Canadian
laws… The poor condition of the
streets and roads in and around Quebec City was a matter of
continual concern and comment during the years when Robe was in
Canada (1786-90, 1800-06) and he is scarcely exaggerating when
he writes that "carriages…horses…[and] men [were]
endanger’d… / Almost at ev’ry step" (46-48). A Road
Act was passed by the Legislative Assembly in 1796 and
strengthened in 1799 "to provide more ample and efficacious
regulations for the opening of Highways and Roads and
construction of Bridges within the Province, and for the
amending and repairing the same" (qtd. in Ruddel 249), but
poor enforcement of the regulations meant that the situation
continued until well into the nineteenth century (see Ruddel
189, 219-20).
|
51 |
Britain’s first
provincial town Quebec.
|
65 |
shad A
food fish of the Atlantic coast in North America.
|
66 |
Thames Robe
is referring to the river that flows through "great
London" (72), England.
|
68 |
bass Although
this word could be "barr" (an obsolete spelling of
"bar," a large and flavourful European fish) it has
been transcibed as "bass" because Robe is almost
certainly referring to the sea-bass, a species caught off the
eastern coast of North America.
|
72-73 |
sturgeon…to
majesty… Sturgeon, a species of
fish found in northern waters, were termed "royal
fish" because they belonged to the monarch when found on
the sea-shore.
|
78 |
cits Abbreviation
of citizens, usually applied snobbishly to city dwellers and
tradespeople by those who regard themselves as superior by
virtue of their rural connections or social position.
|
79 |
the Lower
Town The portion of Quebec City at
the base of Cape Diamond and the site of much of the City’s
commercial, manufacturing, and, of course, maritime activities
(see Dêchene, "The Town of Quebec, 18th Century").
Weld, Travels 1: 350 draws a sharp distinction between
Quebec’s Lower and Upper Towns, describing the former,
"mostly inhabited by the traders who are concerned with…shipping,"
as "a very disagreeable place" and the latter, despite
being poorly "laid out," as "extremely
agreeable."
|
83 |
western
Indies The British possessions in the
islands of the West Indies (and see l. 199).
|
84 |
Greenock…Liverpool British
ports, the former on the Clyde River in southern Scotland and
the latter on the Mersey River in western England.
|
95 |
Wether Whether.
|
95 |
the public
edifice Robe probably had in mind not
only the buildings that he himself had designed (see
Introduction, above), but also the courthouses that were built
in Quebec City and Montreal between 1799 and 1803 and Quebec’s
Hall (or Hotel), the foundation stone of which was laid in the
summer of 1805 (see Kalman 1: 184-91 and Quebec Mercury,
August 17, 1805).
|
103 |
chimnie
flues Smoke-ducts in chimneys.
|
105 |
magazines Stores,
heaps, or receptacles.
|
105-06 |
fires / Which oft
consume this…town… Because of the
extensive use of wood in the construction of houses in Quebec
City and the heavy reliance on fires for heating and
manufacture, "fire’s more dread effects" were common
in Quebec and elsewhere in Lower Canada until well into the
nineteenth century. An "ordinance for preventing accidents
by fire" that prohibited the use of "shingle[s]"
and regulated the construction and cleaning of "chimnee
flues" (103-06) was enacted in 1777 and amended in 1790
but, partly due to poor enforcement, conflagrations continued to
occur in both the Lower and the Upper Towns (see Ruddel 225-36).
Robe’s name appears on the subscription lists of the Quebec
Fire Society in the January 13, 1803, May 26, 1803, and June 14,
1804 issues of the Quebec Gazette.
|
107 |
corn Wheat,
barley, oats, and other cereal plants (possibly including maize
or "Indian corn").
|
119-26 |
mill…Caldwell…rich
domain After 1774, when he took
ninety-nine year leases on several seigneuries, including the
large seigneury of Lauson on the south shore of the St. Lawrence
opposite Quebec City, Henry Caldwell (c.1735-1810), played
increasingly important roles in the development of the
agricultural and forest industries in Lower Canada. Shortly
after leasing Lauson, he "buil[t] a grist-mill there"
and during the Napoleonic Wars "[h]e was able to organize
effectively the cutting and selling of timber [for the Royal
Navy] by setting up sawmills beside his gristmills…. His
sawmills were the best known in Quebec and the Etchemin mills at
the mouth of the River Etchemin were among the largest.
Important visitors who went to see the falls of the Chaudière
were sometimes invited to tour Caldwell’s installations"
(Caya 130-31). A founder (1789) and later (1791) president of
the Quebec Agricultural Society, Caldwell was particularly
interested in improving the "breeding of livestock and the
growing of hemp" in the Province (Caya 131). In 1801, he
purchased the seigneuries that he had thereto leased and from
1802-1805 he increased his landholdings by buying two
seigneuries adjoining Lauson and several thousand acres of land
in various townships (see Caya 131, Dêchene, "The
Seigneuries," and, for further discussion of Caldwell’s
sawmills, Ruddel 119-20).
|
124 |
Point
Levi Now Lévis, Pointe Lévi (or de
Lévy) on the St. Lawrence River opposite Quebec City.
|
125 |
Chaudiere’s fam’d
bason The bay (basin) into which the
Chaudière River flows north into the St. Lawrence just above
Quebec City.
|
129 |
Chaudière’s and
Morency’s falls The falls on the
Chaudière River (see previous note) and on the Montmorency
River, which flows south into the St. Lawrence below Quebec
City.
|
130 |
Lorette The
Falls of Lorette on the St. Charles River, which flows south
into the St. Lawrence just below Quebec City.
|
140-66 |
the day fast
approaches…birth of him…Birthnight
Ball The birthday of King George III
(1738-1820; reign, 1760-1820), June 4, was celebrated annually
in Quebec City with a levee and a ball "for [s]uch Ladies
and Gentlemen as have been presented" (Quebec Gazette,
June 4, 1795; and see Quebec Mercury, June 9, 1806).
|
169 |
torrid
zone The region of the earth between
the tropics.
|
173-74 |
plagues / Spread
over Egypt…by Moses’ rod See Exodus
7:12 for the ten plagues that Moses inflicted on the Egyptians
to persuade the Pharaoh to release the Israelites from bondage.
The transformation of "Moses’ rod" into a serpent is
described in Exodus 7 and the plague of flies in Exodus 8.
|
177 |
embued Endowed.
|
184 |
pendant wood
Trees with branches that hang downwards.
|
187 |
ears Robe
has written "lears" but clearly "ears" is
correct.
|
205 |
staves
Strips of wood used to make barrels and other
containers.
|
208 |
Navy…masts
Since the late eighteenth century, and
especially during the Napoleonic Wars, Canada was a source of
pine masts for the British navy.
|
209 |
Hemp
The context suggests that Robe was wholly or primarily
interested in the plant as a source of coarse fibres for the
production of rope (and see the note to 119-26, above).
|
224 |
trash Waste
matter, particularly (though perhaps not exclusively) cuttings
and leaves from trees and bushes.
|
228 |
marguerite Daisy,
and similar flowers.
|
232-38 |
…separate views…join’d
in one… Despite the broken syntax
and blank line in this passage, Robe’s meaning is clear
enough: the scenery at Quebec is a suitable subject for a
panorama, a term coined by its inventor, Robert Barker, in c.
1787 to describe "[a] picture of a landscape or other
scene, either arranged on the inside of a cylindrical surface
round the spectator as centre (a cyclorama) or unrolled
or unfolded and made to pass before him, so as to show the
various parts in succession" (OED). Barker patented
his invention in 1787 and in the same and subsequent years
exhibited his first panorama, a view of Edinburgh, in Edinburgh,
Glasgow, and London. Panoramas were very much in vogue in the
ensuing decade in Britain and Europe, but Robe’s vision of a
panorama centred on "the bason of Quebec" does not
appear to have been realized; however, in 1830 a picture of the
"Basin of Quebec" was included in Robert Burford’s Views
of the City of Quebec "taken from the highest part of
the heights of Abraham" (3), which was exhibited at the
Panorama in Leicester Square, London (see also Altick 128-97;
Bentley, Introduction, The St. Lawrence and the Saguenay
xliii-xliv).
|
239 |
The scenes of action
of the renowned Wolfe The places
associated with the victory and death of General James Wolfe
(1727-1759) on the Plains of Abraham in 1759—for example, the
sites of his encampments and batteries, the passage by which he
led his troops up the cliffs to the plains, and, of course, the
battlefield itself and the spot on which he died after hearing
of the defeat of the French that was pivotal in Britain’s
acquisition of France’s North American colonies under the
Treaty of Paris (1763).
|
252 |
summer
convoy During the Napoleonic Wars,
British merchant ships travelling to and from Canada, Britain,
the West Indies and elsewhere were assembled into fleets under
the protection of ships of war.
|
252 |
on the underweigh On
the move, "underweigh" being a variation of
"underway" by association with such phrases as
"weigh anchor."
|
256 |
crouded Crowded.
|
269 |
pigeon…Of breed
particular Passenger pigeon (Ectopistes
migratorius), a North American species that migrated in vast
flocks in August and was eventually hunted to extinction (the
last one died in 1914).
|
293 |
…lightning…Cape
Diamond’s iron ore By a circular
logic, thunderstorms and lightning were believed to be
especially plentiful and potent in places that were (therefore)
assumed to bear large deposits of iron or copper ore, one such
place being Cape Diamond, the promontory that surmounts Quebec
City.
|
295-96 |
as late beheld…lofty
buildings feel the electric flame
The referent for Robe’s observation has yet to be identified.
|
301 |
shocks Propped-up
groups of bundles or "sheaves" of corn (see the note
to 107, above).
|
331 |
Rija Riga,
Russia’s principal port on the Baltic Sea.
|
367 |
Ang[e] Gardien
shore Côte de L’Ange-Gardien: the
north shore of the St. Lawrence downriver from Quebec City
beyond the Montmorency River and near the village of L’Ange-Gardien
(see l. 380).
|
378 |
Orleans
Isle Île d’Orleans: the large
island in the St. Lawrence downriver from Quebec City.
|
384 |
fatt Fat.
|
403 |
The word
"down" is repeated between "the" and
"upper" in this line.
|
Winter |
16 |
the dread fate of
Anticostie’s Isle The treacherous
reefs of Anticosti Island (Ile d’Anticosti) in the Gulf of St.
Lawrence at the entrance of the St. Lawrence estuary earned the
island the title of the "Graveyard of the Gulf."
|
17 |
’wail Wale:
choose, select. The presence of the apostrophe suggests that
Robe might have had in mind Edmund Spenser’s (mis)use of the
word "bewails" (meaning, to mourn or lament) in Book
1, Canto 6: 1-3 of the Faerie Queene: "As when a
ship…An hidden rocke escaped hath unwares / That lay in waite
her wrack for to bewaile."
|
52 |
Cul-de-Sac A
street in the Lower Town.
|
77 |
cariole Sleigh
drawn by one or two horses. Small carrioles accommodated only
the driver, larger ones a driver and passengers, and others were
used for such purposes as transporting goods to market.
|
94 |
beau Man
of Fashion.
|
98 |
Fortunatus The
hero of a popular tale that appeared in Europe in the sixteenth
century, Fortunatus was given by Satan a magic hat that
transported him to any place where he wished to be.
|
101 |
Martin cap…Tristram…Corporal A
"Martin cap" is a hat or toque resembling a pointed
nightcap, the reference being to Martin of Cambray (or Cambrai),
one of the figures on the clock in Cambrai, France whose peasant
attire was regarded as ridiculous. In Laurence Sterne’s Tristram
Shandy (1759-67), Tristram makes numerous references to the
hat of Corporal Trim and makes it the unlikely focal point of a
humorous meditation on morality in Volume 1, Chapter 5.
|
103 |
Bond
Street A fashionable street in
London, England.
|
106 |
tippet Cape
or short cloak, usually made of fur or wool, covering the
shoulders or the neck and shoulders.
|
108 |
leggins Extra
outer coverings for the legs, usually of leather or heavy cloth,
stretching from the ankle to the knee but sometimes higher.
|
128 |
In this line Robe has
struck out the word "taste" and written
"state" above it.
|
172-73 |
Britain’s laws /
For poverty Between 1796 and the Poor
Law Amendment Act of 1834, the destitute in England and Wales
were given assistance under the so-called Speedhamland System,
which decreed that wages below the level necessary for
subsistence were supplemented by parishes in accordance with the
price of bread and the number of dependants involved. During and
following the Napoleonic Wars, extensions, abuses, and the
increasing expense of the Speedhamland System gave rise to
criticism and, eventually, the amendment of 1834 (see "Poor
Law" 218). It is possible that Robe wrote the letter signed
"Pro-Pauperibus" and containing a lengthy quotation
from Thomson’s "Winter" that appears in the March 3,
1806 issue of the Quebec Mercury.
|
184-85 |
the written pass, /
By magistrate’s authority, to beg In
order to solicit alms, the destitute were required to have a
certificate of poverty signed by a magistrate or a church
minister.
|
189 |
The Gen’ral
Hospital and Hotel Dieu The Hôpital
Général, founded in 1692, and the Hôpital l’Hotel-Dieu,
founded in 1639, are both in Quebec City and were staffed by
nuns. A second Hotel-Dieu was founded in Montreal in 1642.
|
211 |
tommy
cods Several small varieties of fish
resembling cod that are found in the eastern coastal waters of
North America (see Bentley, "Editorial Notes" in Abram’s
Plains 35 and The Charivari 98-99, and "An
Addition to OED").
|
228 |
cahos Cahots: ruts
"formed [across the road] after a heavy fall of snow by…sleighs,
which gather up and deposit the snow in furrows" (John
Lambert qtd. in Bentley, "Editorial Notes" in The
Charivari 101).
|
247 |
’wildered Bewildered.
|
277 |
As ship by head sea
top’d Like a ship tilted up
vertically or nearly so by oncoming waves or swells.
|
275-80 |
The frost well set…the
murd’rous knife… See Weld, Travels
1:395: "in order to avoid the expence of feeding many
[domestic animals] through the winter, as soon as the frost sets
in they generally kill cattle and poultry sufficient to last
them till the return of spring. The carcases are buried in the
ground, and covered with a heap of snow, and as they are wanted
they are dug up….The markets in the towns are always supplied
best at this season…."
|
|