Life in a French-Canadian City

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 200, 12 November 1927, Page 24 (Supplement)

Life in a French-Canadian City

(Written for THE SUN by

H. KIRK.)

BVERYONE who has i travelled has enshrined ill his memory an “isle of enchantment.” a place of secret delight. To some it may be a quiet lake set among snowclad mountains: it may be a blue aud sparkling harbour at the foot of emerald hills; or it may be. indeed, an island—one on which the ocean j breaks: a tropical, verdant island] luxuriant with gorgeous flowers of j every hue, and of haunting perfume. J Yet. though these have all thrilled and delighted me. it is not with one | of them that my secret shrine is filled. ] The spell first fell upon me when. | like the Lady of Shalott, I gazed j from the window—not that of a j tower, but of a modern Pulman car. i We had spent the day travelling from Toronto, a beautiful journey, along the shore of Lake Ontario, lying! opalescent in the warmth of a spring- j Hummer day, and as we neared our] journey’s end and ran through the | suburbs, the green shutters of the! quaint foreign houses seemed to twinkle at me. enticing and alluring, j 'We are Montreal,” they seemed to say, “and you will love us. We are | new to you, we are different from I what you have seen, but we are not ] alien, not too strange.” in the bustle of arrival aud of dining in an immense cosmopolitan hotel, the spell left me, but when, rested and fed, we walked on the streets and mingled with the crowds, the soft murmur of French around me again intrigued me. I strained my ears to hear, but could catch only an oci asional familiar phrase. These dark-eyed folk. then, were those whose] history had enchanted me in my school ] days They had come across the ocean and founded a new France, had i been conquered, but not entirely defeated. Here they were, virile and * happy, living under a different flag, hut enjoying the freedom that they ] had exiled themselves to obtain, and ! retaining the customs and habits I they loved. They had kept their ownj

language, the treasure that a people, loving freedom, cleaves to most tenaciously, and surrenders only when threatened with extinction. In my modern classics 1 had read Drummond, Blake and Gilbert Parker, and here was the home of the people whose romance they had caught. In my fancy, I saw Jean Baptiste. I named this one as Babette and that as Paul. “Quaint Montreal” it is called, this city of my delight, with its glittering domes and spires, resplendent of the old order, its chimneys and warehouses indicative of active commercial life; its massive public institutions. Its many churches, modern buildings and homes. Montreal is a veritable treasure-house of historical interest. Here is charm, here is romance, a strange mixture of the old aud the new. The earliest days of its history date from 1535 when, on October 2, the site of the present city was visited by Jacques Cartier. It was then an Indian village having a population of 1,200, and bearing the

euphonius name of Hochelaga. Montreal to-day is a beautiful modern city, and, including suburbs, has a population of about 1,000,000. It harbours two distinct peoples, the two races growing side by side, but intermingling. Everywhere the two languages are used —in the railway stations, street directions, hoardings, advertisements, prices in the shops, while at the cinema the wording on the screen is both French and English. The houses in the French district are most picturesque. They are of red brick and built in pairs. The windows, the framing of which is white, are provided with green shutters. Access to the second or third storey is gained by an outside stairway, rather ornate, of wrought iron, also green, which leads up to an open balcony, on which there is usually to be seen a baby in a pram, a child in its chair, or members of the family, the women sewing industriously.

Kven in the poorer quarters of city, the permanent material of -Jr the buildings are built, gi ves it nicj stantial air. while the general anee ts greatly enhanced by , he T*" on the streets. re * s Chateau de Ramezay. erected * 1.04 by Claude de Ramezav. G ‘ nor of Montreal, is full of historical relics. When the America 3 revolutionary army occupied Montr. in 1775. Montgomery chateau his headquarters and fro issued his manifesto to the CanaL! people, urging them to cast otr ihf ! allegiance to Great Britain. Bent.l Franklin came here at the time ing his printing press which ~, up in the vaults of the chateau, v!” treal is a city of churches, there b! ing O' cr „00. including two C ath«a ’•ould 1 F k° m bedroom "inflow ; could look out on St. James's CathJ ral. a small edition of St p , * of Rome. Pe ‘»s d-ArmJs'bands' 1 ST" Notre Dame. It wasTuU? take the place of an earlier 10 dating back io 1672. and i ; , " lct ' lr «‘ modales 10,000 worshippers towers. 227 feet high, contain iMT,'" one of which, known aT 'u McfMß t"' eiShS ~early 2 5.0001 b. McGill 1 niversity is one of , h foremost seats of learning i n \ or ., America. It was founded by the Hnr‘ Jas McGdl. a leading merchant public-spirited citizen of Mom.! . who died in 1813. He bequeathed bt‘ property of Burnside, consisting of * acres of land, with the dwelling house and other buildings thereon and L sum of £IO.OOO in money to 'found* college. “ “ My greatest delight was to vi„j, Bonsecours Market ou market dav w here one could observe the scenes of French-Canadian provincial m Thither on Tuesdays and Fridays the country inhabitants flock, with little carts and their home-spun c!ot>ing. Amid the noise of N’ormai patois over the “frente sous." the “neuf francs” or the “un ecu.” one catches glimpses, through the jostiincrowds, of piles of native tobacco' maple sugar, ducks, chickens and garlic, straw- hats and home-made rocking chairs, rosaries and cheap jewellery. At Eastertide the display Of enormous beeves, decorated with paper roses, delights the hearts of the children.

Commercially, Montreal is a city of considerable importance, being, though 1,000 miles from the sea, the largest inland port in the world. It handles more grain than any other port in the world, having a grain-conveyor system by which 23 vessels can be loaded simultaneously. It can boast also, of having one of the largest cold storage plants in the world, and the largest railway-car building plant in Canada, while its factories turn out boots and shoes, clothing, tobacco and cigars, rubber goods and machinery.

Everywhere one sees the quaint and the picturesque cab-horses with gray hoods over their heads and ears, and the “tally-ho,” a survival of romantic times, a big coach drawn by four prancing horses, whose driver w ears a red coat and a tall silk hat. I left it reluctantly, this city of en chantment, and crossing the mighty St. Lawrence, which glistened in the sun, bearing on its bosom ships from all the ports in the world, I silently bade it farewell. —H. KIRK.