Elsie's Journey on Inland Waters

"Yes," said Mr. Dinsmore, "though our own are beyond reach at present, it is altogether likely the city, in the persons of some of its inhabitants, supplies vehicles for those willing to pay for their use."

"No doubt of it," said the captain.

"Where is Walter, mamma?" queried Violet, noticing that the boy's seat was unoccupied.

"I do not know. I fear he has overslept himself," replied her mother.

"No, mother," said the captain; "he was early on deck and begged permission of me to go into the city in quest of our mail. Ah, here he comes," as a blithe boyish voice was heard at the head of the companion-way.

In another moment the lad entered, looking rosy and exultant.

"Mail for us all, not to speak of telegrams," he said, in lively tones, emptying his pockets as he spoke, and handing letters and papers to one and another. "Mamma, your share is a large one, as it ought to be; the telegram, from my brothers, I presume, to announce their safe arrival at home; it is the one at the top of the pile, as you may see," handing her a number of missives.

"Yes; and most satisfactory," she said, with a smile and a sigh of relief, as she opened and read it at a glance. "'Just arrived safely. Hear that all the relatives are well.' Ah, what cause for gratitude to the Giver of all good!" she exclaimed low and feelingly. "There have been so many accidents, yet we and our dear ones have escaped them all."

"It is indeed a cause for gratitude," responded her father. "We will trust in Him and not be afraid; for wherever we go we are under His kind care and protection."

"A most comforting and cheering thought," said the captain.

Grandma Elsie was opening a letter post-marked Newport, R. I.

"Ah, this is from our dear Molly!" she said. "She dates 'Paradise Valley.' Where is that?"

"It is on the island of Rhode Island, a few miles out from the City of Newport," replied the captain.

"Ah, yes; so she tells me," responded Mrs. Travilla, her eyes still upon the letter. "They have taken a furnished house for some months, there is another within a few yards of it, now empty, and they want us all to come there, help fill the two, and have a pleasant time for a few days, or weeks, enjoying the lovely scenery, the sea breeze, and each other's society. What do you all say to the proposition?"

"I think we might spend a short time as pleasantly there as anywhere else," said Mr. Dinsmore.

"As I do," said his wife.

"I only wish I could be of the party," sighed Walter, assuming a very depressed expression of countenance; "but my college duties will claim my attention before that."

"For which you may be very thankful, laddie," said his sister Rose. "Remember it is not every boy – or young man – who attains to the blessing of a college education, without having to earn it by hard work."

"I expect and intend to do hard work," returned Walter, stirring his coffee, for he had seated himself and was beginning a hearty breakfast.

"On which side is your vote to be cast, Violet, my dear?" asked the captain in his pleasant tones, turning inquiringly to his young wife.

"I think a brief visit there, on our homeward route, might be very enjoyable," she replied; "but if my husband prefers to go directly home I shall be entirely content."

"Thank you, my dear. I do not see any need of excessive haste in returning home, and it shall be just as you say, whether we accept Cousin Molly's invitation or decline it."

"Then suppose we leave it to Lu and Gracie to say what shall be done, so far as our immediate family is concerned."

"Very well," he said. "Speak freely, daughters, in regard to your preferences for accepting this invitation or going directly home after visiting Quebec."

"I shall be perfectly satisfied with my father's decision," said Lucilla, with a smiling look up into his face. "I have no doubt the little visit to Paradise Valley would prove very enjoyable, yet home is to me the sweetest place on earth, and we have been away from it a good many weeks already."

Captain Raymond looked not ill pleased with her reply, but turned inquiringly to Grace.

"I can echo my sister's sentiments, father dear," she said, with her own sweet smile; "keep me with you and I shall be content and happy wherever that may be."

The captain's answering smile seemed to say he thought no other man had daughters quite equal to his, but turning to Evelyn he asked what were her wishes in regard to the matter.

"I have no doubt a visit to Paradise Valley would be very enjoyable, captain," she replied, with a smile, "that is, if the place is at all suggestive of the name, but like your daughters, I shall be perfectly contented whether we stop there for a time or go on directly home."

"There!" exclaimed Rosie, "were ever such accommodating girls seen before? Now, Brother Levis, when I am asked that question I shall give a different reply, if only to furnish a trifle of the spice of variety."

"Consider it asked then, my dear young sister," he returned, with assumed gravity, but a twinkle of fun in his eye.

"I do, and my answer is, that I am decidedly in favor of accepting Cousin Molly's invitation. I have a great desire to see Paradise, since the thing may be so easily accomplished, and nobody seems to have any objection to going there."

"Then we will consider the question decided in the affirmative," said the captain, "and make our arrangements accordingly."

"Not allowing among them an avoidance of Quebec, I trust," said Walter; "for I own that I very much want to see that old city."

"Set your mind at rest on that point, my boy," said the captain pleasantly; "I hardly think there is one of us who would willingly miss that visit."

"I am glad to hear you say that, captain," said Evelyn, "for I, for one, am looking forward to our visit there with a great deal of interest."

The little ones now asked to be excused, and went away to their plays, but the others sat about the table reading their letters – now and then a few sentences aloud, for the benefit of the company – until Walter had finished his meal, when they all gathered in the saloon for their regular morning service of prayer, Bible reading, and sacred song.

When that duty had been duly attended to, the gentlemen and some of the ladies went upon deck for a time. Rain was still falling, but less heavily than in the earlier hours, and Captain Raymond and Mr. Dinsmore decided to pay a visit to the city, promising to return in an hour or two, bringing vehicles for a drive, in case the weather should so improve that a little excursion might be taken with safety and pleasure.

Mrs. Travilla, Violet, and the young girls and Walter stood upon the deck, watching their departure.

"I hope they may enjoy themselves, but I shouldn't like to walk out in this drizzle," sighed Grace. Then in a lower, livelier tone, "Mamma, are you not proud of your husband? I think he is very handsome, even in that unbecoming waterproof coat."

"And I am decidedly of the opinion that everything becomes him," returned Violet, with a low, pleased laugh. "Well, mamma and you girls, how shall we pass the morning? It really seems to me that the saloon is more inviting and comfortable at present than the deck."

The others agreed with her, and all went below, where they found the two little ones begging Grandma Rose for a story to while away the time.

"Ah," she said, "here comes your Grandma Elsie, who is far better than I am at that business.

"Oh, yes!" cried little Elsie. "Grandma, won't you please tell us now about things that have happened at Montreal and Quebec?"

"Yes, dear; I promised you, and there will be no better time than this for the telling of the story," Mrs. Travilla answered pleasantly, as she seated herself and took up her fancy work, while the children drew their chairs to her side, each young face full of eager expectancy.

CHAPTER XI

Grandma Elsie took a moment to collect her thoughts, then gave the little ones very much the same story of the settlement and after-history of Montreal that Lucilla had heard from their father earlier in the day. From that she went on to give a similar account of Quebec.

"The city," she said, "is built upon a steep promontory, where two rivers, the St. Lawrence, on which we now are, and the St. Charles meet. There was formerly an Indian village there called Stadacona. Jacques Cartier, the same person I have been telling you about as the first white man who visited this spot where Montreal now stands, discovered that Indian village in the same year. But the city of Quebec was not founded until 1608; and not by Cartier, but by another man named Champlain, who on the third day of July of that year raised over it a white flag. Soon afterward rude cottages were built, a few acres of ground cleared, and one or two gardens were planted."

"Is that all of it there is now, grandma?" asked Elsie.

"Oh, no, my child! there is a city with a very strong fortress; there are colleges and churches; there is a building yard for vessels, where thirty or forty are built every year. Quebec has a very fine harbor, where many vessels can ride at anchor at the same time, and I have read that from fourteen hundred to two thousand come in every year from the ocean."

"Just to ride there, grandma?" asked Neddie, with grave earnestness. Then he wondered why grandma smiled at his query and everybody else laughed.

"No, sonnie," Mrs. Travilla replied, "but to trade. They bring goods to the people – silk, cotton, woolen; salt too, coal, and hardware. And they carry away what the folks in Canada have to sell, which is mostly timber."

"Did you say French folks live there, grandma?" asked Elsie.

"Yes; it was built by the French in the first place, but taken from them by the English in 1759."

"That was before our Revolution, wasn't it, grandma?"

"Yes; about sixteen years earlier."

"Please tell about it, grandma."

Grandma kindly complied.

"There was war at that time between England and France," she said, "and, for that reason, war between the English and French colonies of America. The French built a strong fortress on the island of Cape Breton, which is at the mouth of this, the St. Lawrence River; they began also to build forts along the lakes and the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. Fleets and armies came over from Europe, and the English and French colonists, on this side of the ocean, formed armies and engaged Indians to help them fight each other. The English attacked the French fortress of Louisburgh on Cape Breton Island, and took it. Then Wolfe, who was in command, put his troops on board of vessels, and went on up the river as far as the island of Orleans, a few miles below Quebec. There they built batteries for guns, intending to fire upon Quebec, where was the French general, Montcalm, with an army of 13,000 men; some of them regulars, the rest Canadians and Indians.

"But I will not go into all the particulars, as you two little ones could hardly understand them well enough to be much interested."

"Oh, yes, grandma, please go on," exclaimed Elsie.

"The English were unsuccessful at first, if I remember right, mamma?" remarked Rosie inquiringly.

"Yes," replied her mother. "It was nearly night when their divisions joined, and the grenadiers were so impatient that they charged madly upon the works of the French before the other troops had time to form and be ready to sustain them. As a natural consequence they were driven back to the beach with severe loss, where they sought shelter behind a redoubt abandoned by the French.

"A storm was brewing, and the French kept up a galling fire, until it burst upon their foes with great fury. The tide from the ocean came roaring up against the current of the river with unusual strength, and the British were obliged to retreat to their camp across the Montmorency, to avoid being caught in the raging waters and drowned. They had lost 180 killed and 650 wounded.

"Wolfe, who was not a strong, healthy man, was so distressed over the calamity that he became really ill. Of course he was much fatigued, and that, joined to distress of mind, brought on a fever and other illness that nearly cost him his life. It was almost a month before he was able to resume command.

"When sufficiently recovered to write a letter, he sent an almost despairing one to Pitt, but at its close said he would do his best. Then he and Admiral Saunders contrived their plan for scaling the Heights of Abraham, and so getting possession of the elevated plateau at the back of the city, where the fortifications were weakest, the French engineers having trusted for their defence to the precipices and the river below.

"Montcalm and his men saw that the English camp was broken up, and that the troops were conveyed across to Point Levi, then some distance up the river, by a part of their fleet, while the rest of it remained behind to feign an attack upon the intrenchment at Beauport. Montcalm, though he saw these movements, was at a loss to understand them; so he remained in his camp, while another officer was stationed a little above the Plains of Abraham, to watch that part of the English fleet that had sailed up the river.

"At night the troops were all embarked in flat boats and proceeded up the river with the tide. The French saw them, and marched up the shore to prevent them from landing. Toward daylight the boats moved cautiously down the river, with muffled oars, passing the French without being perceived, and the troops landed safely in a cove below. They were all on shore by daylight.

"Then the light infantry scrambled up the precipice and dispersed a French guard stationed there, while the rest of the army climbed up a winding and steep ravine. Then another division landed, and before sunrise five thousand British troops were drawn up in battle array on the Plains of Abraham, three hundred feet above the St. Lawrence."

"How surprised the French must have been!" exclaimed Lucilla.

"Yes," said Mrs. Travilla, "the first intimation Montcalm had of their intentions was the sight of the English army drawn up there, on what he had doubtless deemed those inaccessible heights. He at once perceived that this exposed his garrison and the city to imminent danger, and immediately marched his whole army across the St. Charles to attack the enemy.

"It was about ten o'clock when he got his troops there and into battle line. He had two field-pieces, while the English had but one; only a light six-pounder which some sailors had dragged up the ravine about eight o'clock that morning.

"At that time the plains had no fences or inclosures, and extended to the walls of the city on the St. Louis side, their surface being dotted over with bushes which furnished places of concealment for the French and Indian marksmen. I will not attempt to describe the relative positions of the two armies, which you little ones would hardly understand. I will only say that Wolfe placed himself on the right, at the head of a regiment of grenadiers who were burning to avenge their defeat at the Montmorency, and Montcalm was on the left of the French, at the head of his regiments.

"Wolfe ordered his men to load their pieces with two bullets each and reserve their fire until the French should be within forty yards of them, an order which every man was careful to obey.

"The English fired several rounds, then charged furiously with their bayonets. Wolfe was urging them on, when some Canadians singled him out and fired, slightly wounding him in the wrist. He wound his handkerchief about it and still went on, cheering his men, but quickly received another wound in the groin; then another struck him in the breast, and he fell to the ground mortally wounded. But he seemed hardly to think of himself, only of his troops and gaining the victory. 'Support me; let not my brave soldiers see me drop,' he said to an officer near him. 'The day is ours – keep it.' Then they carried him to the rear while his troops were still charging. The officer on whose shoulder he was leaning cried out, 'They run, they run!' At that the light came back into the dim eyes of the dying hero and he asked, 'Who run?' 'The enemy, sir; they give way everywhere,' replied the officer. 'What! do they run already?' asked the feeble, dying voice. 'Go to Colonel Preston and tell him to march Webb's regiment immediately to the bridge over the St. Charles, and cut off the fugitives' retreat. Now, God be praised, I die happy!' He spoke no more, but died, with his sorrowing companions about him, just in the moment of victory. Montcalm too was mortally wounded in that battle, and died the next morning about five o'clock."

"What a pity!" exclaimed little Ned. "What makes men fight so, grandma?"

"If there were no sin there would be no fighting," Grandma Elsie replied. "There is none in heaven; there all is peace and joy and love."

"Is it bad men that fight, grandma?"

"Not quite always; sometimes a good man has to fight to protect his wife and children, or other helpless ones, from being injured by a bad man. If a bad man were trying to hurt your mamma, or one of your sisters, it would be right for your papa to prevent him, even if he had to hurt him a great deal in doing so."

"Oh, yes; and when I grow big I won't let anybody hurt my dear mamma or sisters. I'll help papa drive 'em away if they try to."

"Please, grandma, tell some more," entreated Elsie.

"Yes, dear," said grandma. "The British have kept Quebec ever since they took it that time, and there was no more fighting there till our Revolutionary war began some sixteen years later: the 19th of April, 1775. In the fall of that year troops were sent to Canada; some under Ethan Allen, as you have already learned, some under Montgomery, and others commanded by Arnold.

"They, poor fellows, had dreadful times pushing their way through the wilderness, often suffering for lack of sufficient food and raiment, braving storms and bitter cold. I cannot tell you the whole sad story now, but you can read it when you are older. Arnold and his men reached Quebec first, but were not strong enough to attack it, and the garrison would not come out and fight them on the plains. Then Arnold, inspecting his arms, found that most of his cartridges were spoiled, therefore he retreated to a place twenty miles distant. There, on the 1st of December, he was joined by Montgomery and his troops; but very few of them were fit for fighting, many being sick; also a good many had deserted, so that the force was small indeed – only about nine hundred men."

"What's desert, grandma, to run away without leave?" asked Neddie.

"Yes," she replied; "and they generally shoot a soldier for it."

"I think I won't be a soldier when I get big," said the little fellow reflectively; "'cause I might get scared and run away and the other fellows might catch me and shoot me; and then papa and mamma would feel very sorry; wouldn't they, grandma?"

"Yes, indeed! and so would a good many other folks, grandma for one," she replied, dropping her work to put an arm about him, stroking his hair with the other hand, patting his rosy cheek, and kissing him again and again. "But we hope our little boy will make a good and brave man, like his father, and never play the coward by running away from dangerous duty."

"Maxie, my big brother, wouldn't, grandma."

"No, I feel very sure Max would fight for the right and his dear native land."

"So do I," said Lucilla. "Max is very much like our father in both looks and character; though papa says Max has a better temper than his. I never saw papa show a bad temper, but he says he has one and that that's where I get mine."

"Now, Lu, don't talk in that way about yourself," said Grace. "I've hardly seen you show any temper at all for years past. If you got it from papa, you got the power of controlling it too, from him, I think."

At that moment Walter came hurrying down from the deck, whither he had gone shortly before, his face full of joyous excitement.

"Folks," he cried, "do you know that it is clearing off? The sun is out and the clouds are retreating rapidly before it. Surely the change will bring grandpa and the captain back in haste, after the rest of us. So I think we should better be making our preparations as fast as possible."

"Why, my dear young brother," laughed Rosie, "one would imagine our lives or fortunes, one or both, depended on our seeing the sights of Montreal to-day."

"Very well, my wise sister, you can stay behind, if you wish," laughed the lad; "but I'm bound to make one of the exploring party. And there! they have come, for I hear Brother Levis' voice on deck."

The words had scarcely left his lips when Captain Raymond's quick, manly step was heard coming down the companion-way; then his pleasant voice, saying, "Everybody who wants to see Montreal to-day must make haste to don hat and coat or shawl, for the air will be quite cool in driving."

"Oh, have you brought a carriage for us, papa?" asked little Elsie.

"Yes," he replied; "we have three of what they call calèches out here on the wharf. They are pleasant vehicles to ride in, and the three will hold us all very comfortably. We will not want to stop anywhere for dinner," he continued turning to Violet, "so I have ordered a lunch put up for each calèche."

"My dear, you think of everything," she said, with an admiring affectionate look up into his face. "We will be ready in ten minutes; we need no preparations but what you have advised."

CHAPTER XII

The sun had already set when our friends returned to the Dolphin. They had greatly enjoyed their drive and the views of the places of interest visited, but were weary enough to be glad to find themselves again seated upon the deck of their floating home. The little ones were given a simple meal and sent to their berths, then the elder people sat down to a more substantial one, over which they chatted and laughed, discussing with much enjoyment the sights of the day and the historical events with which they were connected.

Then they talked of Quebec and upon what parts of it they should bestow most attention, as they could tarry there for but a short time.

"Of course we must visit the Heights of Abraham, whatever else we neglect," remarked Rosie.

"Yes," said Walter, "and Palace Gate, Cape Diamond, and the citadel that crowns it. I should like to see it, not only for the historical associations, but also because it is said to be the most impregnable fortress on the continent of America."

"And I, for the beautiful view it commands of what is called the most magnificent scenery on this continent, if not in the world," added Violet.

"It must be very large," remarked Lucilla, "for I remember reading that, with its ravelins, it covers about forty acres. We will go to see it, papa, will we not?"

"I think so; it would hardly do to visit Quebec and neglect so important a place."

"It was under Cape Diamond that Montgomery fell, if I remember right," remarked Evelyn Leland.

"Yes," replied the captain; "on the 31st of December, 1775. At two o'clock on that morning his troops paraded in three divisions; a part at Holland House under the direct command of Montgomery. That division, with Montgomery at the head, passed down from the Plains of Abraham to Wolf's Cove, then along the margin of the river under Cape Diamond. It was a dark, stormy morning, the snow falling fast and a fierce wind piling it in heaps – frightful drifts. Through that darkness and storm Montgomery led his men to the narrowest point under the cape, where, on the top of the precipice, the enemy had planted a battery of three-pounders. The post was in charge of a Canadian with thirty-eight militiamen, besides nine British seamen under the master of a transport, to work the guns. These men were awake and on the watch, perfectly silent; each artilleryman with a lighted match in his hand. Probably from their silence Montgomery thought they were asleep. But they were waiting and listening.

"Barnsfare could see faintly through the dim light and drifting snow, the movements of the Americans, and when they drew near, and Montgomery called out to his troops, 'Men of New York, you will not fear to follow where your general leads: March on!' rushing, as he spoke, over heaps of snow and ice to charge the battery. Barnsfare heard, gave his men the word, and they sent a discharge of grape-shot, sweeping down the American ranks with terrible effect.