Reflections 2013
Series 5
April 17
Canadian Trio III a: a Prolog to Québec (City)

 

Vieux-Québec   The third and last of the Canadian Trio visits was to Québec, to me the most enchanting of the cities in North America (CanUS). I say that though it pains me, since San Francisco is to me the most enchanting city in the US, but Québec's history and location edge out—but just slightly--even the "city by the bay". I'll have to give Québec a similar sobriquet; perhaps "city of the cliffs". How about "city at the narrows".

 
 

What cliff? What narrows? Take a quick look at this Panorama of Québec (Photo by Martin St-Amant CC-BY-SA-3.0) taken from across the river in Lévis. We'll discuss it further at the end of the visit, but for now, click to enlarge to inspect details, or you won't forgive yourself.

 
 
 [Note: this magnificent picture is a very large file with a lot of pixels and may not download properly, or may freeze. If that's a problem, copy-and-paste this next link in a separate window in your browser: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:79_-_Qu%C3%A9bec_-_Juin_2009.jpg On the lower right, find and click on the "Interactive Large-Image Viewer", then use the + and – signs at the lower left of the viewer.]
 
 

In a way, using this twilight picture as an introduction to Québec isn't exactly fair, because anything looks nice at sunset. Still, Québec from the river is always splendid. For purposes of orientation, upstream on the Saint Lawrence is to the left of the city ahead. Notice how the river is still wide where we are. This is the severe narrowing of the river going upstream that occurs at Québec, hence my suggestion of "city on the narrows".

 
 

The low area to the extreme right of the city is where the small Saint Charles River comes toward us into the Saint Lawrence. The heart of the city is on and below the promontory with the cliffs, referred to as a cape, that's located in between the rivers. That's why I suggested "city of the cliffs". The historic city is located both on top of the cape and at its foot, and is called Vieux Québec (Old Québec; Vieux = VYÖ), which since 1985 has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The part of Vieux Québec on top of the promontory is called the Haute Ville (Upper Town; Haute is pronounced OHT; Ville rhymes with "veal"). Note the magnificent and striking ramparts around the city, which here are illuminated. Québec has the only remaining fortified city walls in the Americas north of Mexico (CanUS). [St Augustine, Florida once had earthen walls fortified by palmetto logs starting in 1704, rebuilt in the 1730's and in 1808. However, only the Old City Gate of 1808 and some reconstructed sections remain, so St Augustine is no longer a fortified city.]

 
 

Note also the world-famous hotel that dominates the skyline, the Château Frontenac, in, of course, châteauesque style. Its central tower here is more brightly lit than the rest, but note the entirety of the complex. The part of Vieux Québec down by the river is called the Basse Ville (Lower Town; Basse rhymes with POSS[.ible]). Here is where it all started, in just a tiny area by the riverside below where the hotel is today. Landfill has widened the Basse Ville to the left of this original area and then way to the right, around the tip of the cape and all the way to the Saint Charles River area, where the Gare du Palais rail station is located.

 
 

Referring to New York, the song says that the Bronx is up and the Battery's down, but that means only that they lie to the north and to the south. In Vieux Québec, up is really UP on the cliff, and down is DOWN by the river! What a city, on and below the cliffs and right by the narrows!

 
 

Names   The reader must understand how two essential place names came out of the site you've been looking at. Before any Europeans arrived, this was the location of a small Iroquois village called Stadacona, with an estimated population of 500, which Jacques Cartier, the first European on the scene, reached in 1535. In reference to Stadacona, the local Iroquoian language used its word for "settlement", kanata. Although those Iroquoian people and their language had disappeared by 1600, most still-spoken Iroquoian languages of the St Lawrence valley to this day have a similar word for "town", such as Mohawk kana:ta (a: indicates a lengthened vowel, something like "aah"). By the 1560's kanata had developed into Canada, which first referred to the nearby region, then spread to the St Lawrence valley, and eventually referred to the provinces of Upper Canada (Ontario) and Lower Canada (Québec). After confederation, this reference to just the town at the promontory in this river valley spread to become the name of the whole country. In other words, "Canada" started in Québec.

 
 

And then there are those all-important narrows. A hard-to-cross wide river suddenly becomes an easier-to-cross narrow river, and then there's that easily fortified promontory right there to boot, just inviting settlement. The word in the local Algonquian language, Micmac, for "strait" or "narrows" was kepe:k and appeared later as Kebec. That remains its name, other than a respelling to correspond to French spelling customs, to Québec. In other words, the name Québec refers specifically to its location on the narrows. Even though cities are not shown on this map (Map by Karl Musser), you can tell where Québec is just by noting where the wide Saint Lawrence narrows down considerably.

 
 

W or Not? This gives rise to the issue of the pronunciation of the name of the city, and by extension, of the province. Francophones recognize that Québec is just a respelling of Kebec, and pronounce it that way. Most other languages follow suit. Even in Greek it's Κεμπέκ / Kebek (in Modern Greek, "μπ", actually "mp", is used to represent a "b"). English however, has gotten into the habit of anglicizing the French spelling of Kebec to say "Kwebec" instead. Although widely done, for the sake of authenticity, one should really continue to use the alternate English pronunciation, "Kebec". Unfortunately, though, I have to report that this English virus has reached the Cyrillic spelling of the Russian, Ukrainian, Serbian, Bulgarian, and Macedonian versions, where it is spelled Квебек, which is "Kvebek".

 
 

"City" or Not? An alternate virus affects English, which has an anal passion for ultra-clarification. If the state is Oklahoma, then the city, for the sake of clarity, has to be called Oklahoma City, right? The same goes for Iowa City, Florida City, Jersey City, and others, in their respective states. But it does not work for New York, whose name is two words long, not three. Only under extreme duress do people specify New York City as opposed to New York State. Normally, people from this city say they're from New York. Period.

 
 

It's similar elsewhere in North America, where English likes to pepper the word "city" onto names where locals are happy without it (for some reason, it's hard or impossible to find places outside of North America that use the word "city" in names). Spanish speakers in Mexico say their capital is Mexico. English speakers call it Mexico City. Spanish speakers in Panama say their capital is Panama. English speakers call it Panama City. French speakers in Québec say their capital is Québec. English speakers are sorely tempted to call it Québec City—and should have their wrists slapped for doing so. I relented in the title of this posting, and compromised, calling it Québec (City).

 
 

Mexicans, Panamanians, and Québeckers only lengthen the name under duress, so it IS possible to say la province de Québec as opposed to la ville de Québec, but it's not frequent. Another curiosity is that French grammar helps Francophones out as to which place they're referring to. If you're going "to Québec" and mean the province, you say au Québec but if you mean the city, you say à Québec. In addition, the Québec language authorities frown on leaving out the written accent in Québec, and Montréal, too, even when writing in English.

 
 

Age   Québec's founding date of 1608 makes it one of the oldest European settlements in North America north of Mexico. Many Mexican cities date from the 1500's, which is a reflection on the oldest US cities, those of Spanish origin, such as Saint Augustine FL from 1565, and Santa Fe NM of 1610. However, among the US cities of English origin, we have Jamestown, founded in 1607. In Canada, we've mentioned Tadoussac from 1600, and now Québec from 1608, both in Québec province, but we can't forget Port Royal in NS (today called Annapolis Royal), whose founding date falls right in between, in 1605. However, the age-winner in Canada is Newfoundland, which is the first area of permanent settlements in Canada. Most obvious is Saint John's, from 1583, as well as a couple of smaller towns, also from the 16C. However, when it comes to a visual demonstration of age and heritage, Vieux-Québec is the only North American city north of Mexico whose walls and ramparts still exist.

 
 

Emphasis on Settlement History Do note that almost all the history we do on this website—and we do a lot—involves very early history, usually involving when the area was first settled, as opposed to what developed later over time. How did the Norse evolve and settle in multiple directions? How was Britain settled by the Anglo-Saxons (and those rascally Norman French)? How was Australia settled, and North America? (In addition to human history, we also do earth history, such as why the Atlantic Ridge is there and how the Saguenay Graben formed.) A lot of history might have followed what we discuss, but to me, Travel involves the discovery of Place, and the foundation of Place is Origin. How did the Polynesians reach Hawaii? Why is there a Little Britain (Brittany) in France? How did Russian settlers reach Fort Ross in California? These questions are to me the crux of the matter. I claim to be a Modernist and not a Latinist, but as a Language Person I can quote three Latin expressions that show the importance of interest from the start:

 
 
 ab initio, "from the beginning", based on initium, "beginning"
ab ovo, "from the beginning", based on ovum, "egg" (!!!)
ab origine "from the beginning", based on origo, "origin". Put this last pair of words together into one and you'll see why an Australian descended from those that were there "from the beginning" and before European settlement is called an aborigine.
 
 

As we do talk about early history, it's curious to follow the progression on the northern route of the Norse crossing from Norway founding settlements in Shetland and Orkney, the Faroes, Iceland, and Greenland, and even Vinland at the northern tip of Newfoundland (although that was not a permanent settlement), and then five centuries later, seeing that progression continue in Newfoundland with John Cabot founding Saint John's, Cartier and Champlain sailing up the Saint Lawrence, and others exploring what became the northeast US down to North Carolina. True, the Spanish got an earlier start on the southern route, but we too often let that blind us to see the steady progression of the northern route.

 
 
 At the end of June, I'll be making a return visit to Newfoundland for the ninth and final Atlantic Isles posting to connect the progression ending with Leif Erikson in 1000 in northern Newfoundland to the continued progression in eastern Newfoundland starting with John Cabot in 1583, and moving down the coast of Canada and the US.
 
 

Europeans Arrive   We've now seen the parameters of Vieux-Québec and how the Iroquois had settled there. But the modern history comes with European arrival, which means Cartier and Champlain.

 
 

CARTIER When discussing both Tadoussac (2013/1) and Ottawa (2013/2) we mentioned that Cartier was the first European to sail up the Saint Lawrence. He had an encampment in 1535, and spent the winter with his 100 men. He went home, but returned in 1541 with 400 people hoping to start a settlement in Cap Rouge, upstream and today as part of the far western end of the city of Québec, but it was abandoned the following summer because of both hostile natives and the harsh winter.

 
 

The promontory on which Québec is located is referred to as a cape. It seems to me that a cape has to pretty much face out to sea, not down a river, but since the small Saint Charles River separates it from the north shore, I suppose a cape it shall be. In any case, we owe to Cartier the fact that the name of the promontory and cape is Cap Diamant, or Cape Diamond. Cartier found glittering stones in the cliff and thought they contained diamonds. He brought samples back to France when they abandoned the settlement in 1542, and was told by experts that what he had was quartz. It may have been a disappointment for Cartier, but today we can say that the glittering diamond on Cap Diamant is actually Québec.

 
 

CHAMPLAIN We said in 2013/2 that Champlain visited Tadoussac in 1603, and was anxious to see where Cartier had first arrived 68 years earlier, in 1535. We also said he returned in 1604, but to Acadia, where he helped establish, with others, a Habitation (Fort) at Port-Royal in 1605, in what is today Nova Scotia. It wasn't until his third trip in 1608 that he returned to the Saint Lawrence, stopped again at Tadoussac, but then went on to Cap Diamant. There, down at what today is the Basse Ville, which was then just small foothold of land at the river level, since much extended around the cape by landfill, he built another wooden, fortified Habitation. This is a model of the Habitation de Québec (Photo by Charny). It consisted of three interconnected two-story wooden buildings that served both as a fort and lodging, protected by a stockade and ditch. This is a rather attractive 1925 drawing of the Habitation by historical illustrator CW Jefferys, based on a sketch by Champlain himself. It think it gives a wonderful feeling of the relationship between the Habitation clinging to the riverside and the hovering cliffs above, to which the settlement would expand. This was the foundation of the city of Québec.

 
 
 To draw a US parallel to these events in Québec, it was also in 1620 that the settlers referred to as Pilgrims landed on Cape Cod, and in 1624 that the Dutch founded New Amsterdam, which the British made New York in 1664. I will also draw a parallel between the wooden stockade Champlain built for protection around the Habitation de Québec to the wooden stockade that the Dutch built for protection along the north side of what is now Wall Street.
 
 

After Champlain's travels to Ottawa, from 1620 to the end of his life he spent his time focusing on the administration of Québec rather than on exploration. He returned to Québec in 1620, and by 1624 he had built, and moved into, the wooden Fort Saint-Louis on the top of Cap Diamant in today's Haute Ville, near the present location of the Chateau Frontenac. This was indicative of how the settlement was developing, along the lines of a traditional French town, which typically reflected French society. By that time, the Habitation was developing commercially into a trading post surrounded by merchants, craftsmen, artisans, and sailors, while government officials and clergy inhabited Fort Saint-Louis above, located near what became in time the centers of power, including government, religious, educational, and military structures. For centuries afterward, the Basse Ville was the commercial level, and the Haute Ville the institutional level. We're still talking now about the 1620's, so much of this hadn't come about yet, but city life was moving this way from the very beginning, with the merchants living behind the stockade wall of the Habitation down below, and the elite living behind the stockade wall of Fort Saint-Louis above.

 
 

The first French child born in Québec was Hélène Desportes, in 1620. The population reached 100 in 1627, less than a dozen of whom were women. In 1635, Jean Bourdon, the first engineer and surveyor of New France arrived, and helped plan the growing city. By 1650 Québec had about 30 homes, and by 1663, between 70 and 100 homes, for a population of 500-550. Of these, one-quarter were members of religious orders. A century later, in 1763, at the surrender of French rule there were 8,000 inhabitants.

 
 

HÉBERT and COUILLARD While the names Cartier and Champlain were familiar, I was surprised to come across two other names of early settlers, Hébert and his son-in-law Couillard, only after I got to Québec this trip, and then found out a lot more about them since then. I was thrilled when I discovered that the quiet little corner of the Haute Ville that I'd found to spend three nights in a bed-and-breakfast in was directly connected to these original settlers, which was an extra historic thrill. I'll give myself credit for finding a nice, quiet place to stay, but I'll credit serendipity for the fact that it turned out to be as historic—and charming—as it was.

 
 

Louis Hébert (é.BÉR, both É's as in "café"), an apothecary from Paris, had gone with Champlain in 1606 to Port-Royal, and again from 1610 to 1613, where he tended to the medical needs of both the French and natives. But then he came back in 1617, this time to Québec, and for good, and took with him his wife Marie Rollet and his three children, Anne, Guillemette, and Guillaume. Note how early this date is. Champlain had founded Québec only eight years earlier, in 1608, and he himself wouldn't come to live there until three years later, in 1620. Hébert continued his apothecary work in Québec taking care of both French and natives, but also expanded his interests, going up topside, clearing some land of its old-growth forest, and planting crops on about 4 hectares (10 acres). He was the first settler to support himself from the soil, and was the only one for many years, other than Champlain, who was interested in cultivating land. It was Hébert who introduced European plants to New France, notably the apple, and he also studied local flora. On his lands up above he planted grain fields, vegetable gardens, and, of course, an apple orchard, with apple trees he brought from Normandy. He accomplished this both despite the opposition of the trading company and with hand tools only, since it was not until a year after his death that land was worked here for the first time with a plow. Hébert is recognized therefore, not only as one of the first colonists and pioneers, but as Québec and Canada's first apothecary and first farmer. Champlain also gave Hébert responsibility for the administration of justice by appointing him king's attorney.

 
 

Guillaume Couillard (ku.YAR) was a sailor from Saint-Malo, on the coast west of Paris. He arrived in Québec in 1613, four years before Hébert, so is an even earlier settler. He married Hébert's daughter Guillemette in 1621 and, as Hébert's son-in-law, joined the family farming business.

 
 

Then, in 1627, Louis Hébert died in an ironic manner, considering he had come to live in a place with a cold winter climate. He had slipped and fallen on the ice the previous winter, which proved fatal. He had been in Québec only ten years. At this point, Couillard took over the farming of Hébert's lands, since his wife, as the only surviving daughter, had inherited one-third of Hébert's estate. One-third went to Hébert's wife Marie and one-third to his son Guillaume, so it remained a family business and we can now consider the Hébert-Couillard lands as one ongoing unit. It should also be restated that up until 1634, everyone else in Québec lived within the walls of either the Habitation below or Fort St-Louis above, according to status, including Champlain, who was in the Fort. But Champlain had two neighbors living nearby in the only two houses built by settler families, that of Hébert and that of Couillard.

 
 

Couillard is the first person in Québec to make use of a plow, in 1628, and by 1632 he had doubled the area under cultivation. By 1639, he owned a flour mill. He continued to work for the colony and was held in high regard. As a sailor, he frequently piloted boats between Québec and Tadoussac. In 1654 he was ennobled by the king, for services rendered. He died in his house in 1663. Three years later, his wife Guillemette, who lived to 1684, sold his house and a good portion of his land to Bishop Laval to house the Seminary of Québec. The site of the house is marked in an inner courtyard of the Seminary. The couple had ten children and numerous descendants. For that reason, the name Couillard appears in the genealogy of almost all the old Québec families.

 
 
 Laval had founded the Séminaire de Québec / Seminary of Québec in 1663. It became a private university in 1852, and was renamed l'Université Laval / Laval University. It's the fifth oldest institution of higher learning in all the Americas, after the University of Santo Domingo (1538), the University of San Marcos, in Lima (1551), the University of Mexico (1552), and Harvard University (1636). That makes it the oldest in Canada, and the second oldest, after Harvard, in CanUS. It's the first in North America to offer instruction in French. It's no longer centered in the Seminary buildings in Vieux-Québec, which allowed for no expansion, but since 1950 has been centered on a large campus in Sainte-Foy on the western end of modern Québec. The old Seminary buildings now house primarily the School of Architecture.
 
 

This is the monument to the two families in Montmorency Park at the top of the original road going up from the Basse Ville, right after you enter the Haute Ville. It was dedicated in 1918 to commemorate the family's arrival three centuries earlier the previous year (2017 will be four centuries). Even though it has the whole family on it, it's called the Monument à Louis Hébert (Photo by Jean Gagnon). Click to inspect Hébert on top holding a sheaf of corn and a sickle, his wife Marie Rollet and the children on the far side, and Guillaume Couillard on the near side with—what else—a plow. It was this statue that got me wondering why I saw Rue Hébert out the window of my B&B, and why my first dinner was nearby on Rue Couillard.

 
 

17C Québec Growth, Seen in Maps   We can try to visualize early events based on period maps.

 
 

1640 Bourdon Map of Québec Before we finish discussing this combined family, let's look at what the growing settlement looked like at this time. We mentioned earlier that in 1635, Jean Bourdon, the first engineer and surveyor of New France arrived, and we have two maps he prepared. This is the 1640 Bourdon map of Québec and covers exactly the areas we've been talking about. Click to enlarge.

 
 

The Basse Ville is still tiny, hardly larger than the Habitation, with only a few streets. Already existing is what is to me the most interesting road in town, called today Côte de la Montagne, and we'll talk about it more later, but it's the "original street", the road rising from Rue Notre Dame and providing the only access to the Haute Ville from the river, at the top of which today is the Hébert Monument. It has to this day that distinctive bend pointing west, and I'm amazed to see something like this that I knew was old, but didn't think went back to 1640. Note the connection numbered 5 from that bend pointing back down into town, so that you could go up top from one side of town via the road, but could use this connection as a short-cut from this side of town—and still can today. Number 5 is listed on the right as Escalier allant sur le Cap (Staircase going to the Cape), and is the 1640 predecessor of one of the famous sights today in the Basse Ville, known now as the Escalier Casse-Cou (Breakneck Stairs).

 
 

A sharp turn to the left at the top of the road got you to "I" the "Fort & Château St-Louis". That's gone now, but is replaced today by a statue of Champlain on the Terrasse Dufferin (Dufferin Terrace) and to its left is the Château Frontenac. The road leading to the upper left with a bend in it is an early form of Rue Saint-Louis, for me the second most interesting street in Québec, which led from the Fort to the west and out the walls.

 
 

There are other buildings identified, but note the open area furthest to the right, reaching to the cliffs looking downstream on the Saint Lawrence. A dotted line is marked Clôture du Sieur Couillard (Enclosure of Lord Couillard) which goes up to a ruisseau (stream—discussed later). It's unclear if this enclosure means an actual fence or not, but by the time this map was made, Hébert was gone, and Couillard and his plow were master of this farmland. He wasn't ennobled yet, but obviously respected, given the honorific before his name. And it was in this area, close to, but not at, the cliffside, that I "lived" for three days in Québec. History is great fun.

 
 

1664 Bourdon Map of Québec Almost a quarter century after the 1640 map, Bourdon prepared this one in 1664. Click to enlarge the 1664 Bourdon map of Québec. The Basse Ville is still small, but lengthening. Note again the Côte de la Montagne with the side path/staircase coming out of its bend. To the left of that, the present, narrow Rue du Petit-Champlain is starting to stretch a couple of blocks to the left. It's hard to read the florid handwriting to the right of the map, but 14 seems to mention that that's at least part of the Couillard lands. The second of the côtes (slopes), Côte de la Canoterie, has not yet been built exiting from this area, but the third and final one, the Côte du Palais, is already visible further up. Proceeding counterclockwise, note the walls and gates to the west, away from the cliffs, where the land is flat and there are no côtes. There are gates here, though, and the Porte (Gate) Saint-Louis accommodates the Rue Saint-Louis, which here still connects the Fort/Château Saint-Louis with destinations to the west. Number 4 is the Jardin des Gouverneurs / Garden of the Governors, which still exists today on the far side of the Château Frontenac.

 
 

Fief du Sault-au-Matelot We've spoken about the substantial property owned by Hébert and Couillard in Québec but haven't yet gotten into specifics. Early on, when Hébert was still unique among the settlers in clearing his land up top, he petitioned the viceroy for title to the property, and in 1623 he received the grant guaranteeing him possession of all the land he had cleared, from then on known as the Fief du Sault-au-Matelot. (Medieval as the word "fief" sounds, it just refers here to a land grant. In English it rhymes with "reef", but in French it's FYEF, rhyming with "deaf". We'll get to the name of the fief in a moment.) This was the very first estate of this kind ever granted in Québec or Canada. Jumping ahead four centuries, it's the land that today is under the Cathedral, the Seminary (Old University), and the streets and buildings on what I was delighted to find had turned out to be "my neighborhood", Rue Hébert and Rue Couillard. One tiny block south of, and parallel to, Rue Hébert was Rue de la Vieille Université / Old University Street, and I could see the spire of its major building out of my window, the spire being illuminated at night.

 
 

We'll talk more about that interesting name of the fief once we look at a much later map that shows the fief clearly. Click to enlarge this map of Québec circa 1860. Understand that this is timewise a "middle" map between settlement times and today, since the map is a century and a half old, and depicts land divisions over two centuries earlier. The Fief du Sault-au-Matelot is still important enough to be shown here in lilac-pink on the right. At this late date, the layout of Québec looks much more like what it does today, although there are still many more changes to come. As always, let's start with the Basse Ville.

 
 

By this time the Habitation is long gone, replaced by Place Royale and its church, the second black symbol from the right. Landfill has extended the Basse Ville extensively by this time in both directions. To the south, what is today the famous Rue du Petit-Champlain is indicated here simply as "Champlain". To the north, we see the Vieux-Port / Old Port, much of which is now included in the Saut-au-Matelot, with the Rue Saint-Paul wrapping around the cliffs all the way to the north side.

 
 

Let's retrace our steps back to the beginning of the Rue Saint-Paul until we come to the street directly under the cliff that's actually called the Rue du Sau(l)t-au-Matelot. It brings us back to the Côte de la Montagne, with its signature curve. At its top, note that by now, there's an actual gate at its top, which is gone today.

 
 

At the top there's no longer a fort, and the Frontenac hadn't been built yet. Note the other fiefs, including the one for the Ursuline convent, whose buildings are still there. On the lower right, the five-pointed Citadel has already been built, shown in pink, as are the western walls. Just below the Ursulines, the Rue Saint-Louis still goes through the Porte (Gate) Saint-Louis to an area beyond the walls already being built up. The only other gate is where the Rue Saint-Jean exits via the Porte Saint-Jean. Since this map, a decorative gate has been added between the two, as well as a fourth back-street pass-through north of the Porte Saint-Jean.

 
 

On the north side, the hospital, still there today, known as the Hôtel-Dieu is the dominating structure in black. Remember that there a three côtes (slopes) entering up the cliffside, and through the scotch tape blurring it can be seen the Côte du Palais to the left of the Hôtel-Dieu, passing through a gateway that today physically no longer exists. Today, the railroad station Gare du Palais is just north of Rue Saint-Paul at this point.

 
 

To the right of the Hôtel-Dieu, but down in the Basse Ville, walk with me along Rue Saint-Paul to a point where a (here unnamed) côte takes off up the cliffside and into "my" Saut-au-Matelot. This is the Côte de la Canoterie, and it enters the upper walls at a gateway that no longer exists either. Here is the Rue de la Sainte-Famille (Holy Family Street). You are now in "my" historic neighborhood, with its very quiet back streets. One block in is the Rue Saint-Georges, a name changed in 1876 to nothing other than Rue Hébert. It changes its name to Rue Couillard in one direction, but walk the other way to where a one-block street forks backward. This is appropriately called Rue Monseigneur-de Laval, after the founder of the University (Seminary). I "lived" for three days in a bed-and-breakfast at the Y-intersection of Laval and Hébert (Saint-Georges), loving every moment. You can see the extensive university grounds adjacent. Right where it says "Université", the Rue de la Vieille Université (Old University Street) has since been cut through parallel to Hébert (Saint-Georges).

 
 

In sum, here in the lands that had been cleared by Hébert and farmed by him and Couillard, part of which had been eventually sold to Laval for his university. I had picked my B&B knowing this would be a quiet corner of the Haute Ville, but it was serendipity to then find that my ancient "neighbors" were named—like the streets—Hébert, Couillard, and Laval.

 
 

The Name Sault-au-Matelot I don't like to leave a stone unturned, which appears in the form of not leaving a plaque on a building or statue unread, and not leaving an interesting name untranslated. The name Sault-au-Matelot is occasionally explained in one guide book or another, but rather bizarrely, and inaccurately. I checked the website of the Ville de Québec for a lot of information about street names. If taken what I found there about the Sault-au-Matelot, have embellished it, and have run with it

 
 

The French verb sauter is pronounced so.TÉ and means "to leap, to jump". It's been taken into English in the form "sauté", since when you sauté foods in the frying pan you make them "leap" and "jump". Most English speakers who use this word twist it, pronouncing it, not so.TÉ but saw.TÉ, but that's the way things are. In French, two children's games using this word come to mind: corde à sauter, or jump rope, and saute-mouton, literally "leap-sheep". In English it's called leapfrog, which makes one think: leaping over a animal the size of a sheep is understandable, but how do you leap over a tiny frog? Maybe it's because the person being leapt over crouches like a frog. Such concerns are trivial matters, but good mind exercise, and indicate how different languages can view the same act differently—French as to the size of a sheep but English as to the stance of a frog.

 
 

The verb so.TÉ shortens to form a noun, pronounced SO. Given the quirks of French spelling, which competes with English spelling for quirkiness, the word SO is spelled "saut". However, the old spelling was even quirkier, "sault", and both spellings appeared on the last map. A saut/sault is therefore a leap, or a jump. However, in 17C French, it also could mean "waterfall", presumably because of the way the water "leaps" and "jumps" down the rocks. In Modern French a waterfall is a chute d'eau, or possibly cascade.

 
 

It's the old spelling that appears in the name of the cross-border settlement Sault-Ste-Marie. It was a single settlement that was divided by the establishment of the US-Canadian border, into Sault-Ste-Marie, Ontario and Sault-Ste-Marie, Michigan, which is one-fifth the population of its Ontario twin. All three words in the name retain their French spelling. Despite the French pronunciation as SO, English has attacked this word here again, and Sault is pronounced not SO, but SU, that is, "soo".

 
 

The name means "Saint Mary's Falls", but they aren't exactly a waterfall. Both towns called Sault-Ste-Marie are located where Lake Superior drains into Lake Huron, via the Saint Mary's River, which cascades downhill some 7 m (21 ft). These cascades are the "waterfall" referred to. However, it's interesting that the locks that have been built to bypass the cascades/falls are called—and spelled—the Soo Locks. Named after this area is also the Soo Line Railroad, which also uses that spelling. Ya can't win.

 
 

Back to the Saut-au-Matelot. It's pronounced so.toh.ma.TLO. A matelot is a sailor so that seems easy enough. But is it? In Québec you will most frequently hear the story that there was once some drunken sailor that leapt off the cliff, so the name means "Sailor's Leap". Another possibility is that there was a dog named Matelot that fell. These stories often start with the words "legend has it". When you hear those words, you KNOW you're about to hear trivial nonsense. You can tell that those are made-up stories trying to explain an unusual name that connects the Haute Ville and Basse Ville.

 
 

The website of the City of Québec says, understandably, that the origin of the name is not known for sure, but they give more credence to the following. The Saut in this case is not a leap, but a waterfall that once came down the side of the cliff. Since that was a valid meaning of the word in the 17C, it's logical. You'll remember in the 1640 Bourdon map above we saw a ruisseau (stream) crossing the property up top, which may have been the source of such a waterfall. So what do we have, "Sailor's Falls"? Who's the sailor? Well, you'll recall that Guillaume Couillard had been a sailor before he settled in Québec, and continued helping out sailing up to Tadoussac. It's thought that he could have been the sailor referred to in the falls, so the entire name of the property probably best translates as the Sailor's Falls Fief, including a veiled reference to Couillard, who worked with Hébert from the very beginning. And the image of this now disappeared waterfall connecting the Haute Ville and Basse Ville, just as the fief does, is an attractive one.

 
 

Québec Motto   I've come across the motto of the city and it's worth mentioning, explaining, and commenting on. The Québec motto is Don de Dieu feray valoir.

 
 

It seems to have one meaning, but is a pun, and has a more historic meaning than the superficial one. First we have a 16C spelling, as we did with sault/saut, which lends period atmosphere. Today, "I will make" is no longer spelled (je) feray, but (je) ferai. The same archaic spelling exists in the name of the western suburb where Laval University has moved, Sainte-Foy. Today, "Holy Faith" is spelled Sainte-Foi. Valoir, which is related to "valid", usually is "to be worth", and can stretch to something like "to validate". Here, (je) feray valoir is best phrased as "I'll put to good use". But what, then? One is immediately tempted to put an exclusively religious meaning to Don de Dieu, which is "Gift of God", until one learns that that was the name of the ship Champlain first arrived on. A more practical translation, that includes the sense of the sentiment, is therefore "I'll put [the heritage of] the Don de Dieu to good use", by continuing to follow in Champlain's footsteps to improve Québec.

 
 

Québec Architecture   There are heritage buildings in and adjacent to Vieux-Québec from all centuries since the 17C, but the overall style one sees is that influenced by the original settlers who populated Nouvelle-France / New France. It's a style influenced by the ancient 17C and 18C house forms of Normandy and other areas of northern France, but adapted to the colder climate of Québec.

 
 

These are some rooftops (Photo by Bouchecl) in the Haute Ville, with the high roof of the Château Frontenac in the background.

 
 

This view (Photo by Gilbert Bochenek) of other traditional rooftops includes a 20C surprise, the 18-story Édifice Price / Price Building, built in Art Deco style in 1930-1 and, obviously, the tallest building in Vieux-Québec. Criticized at the time for being out of proportion to its surroundings (there are now limits on building heights) it is today considered well-adapted, an architectural monument, and a defining element to the city's skyline. It now also belongs to the city, and is used as an adjunct to the Hôtel de Ville / City Hall (Photo by Gilbert Bochenek) across the street, a corner of which is shown here at the lower left.

 
 

Although the Price Building is primarily in Art Deco style, the steepled cooper roof is in a modernized châteauesque style, the blend of both styles being similar to that of the Supreme Court Building in Ottawa (2013/3). A stylistic opposite is that the Price Building narrows as it soars up to its châteauesque roof in contrast to the massive main tower of the Château Frontenac, which widens as it does the same.

 
 

Finally, an impressive night view (Photo by Martin St-Amant - S23678) of colonial buildings as part of the Québec skyline, with the Price Building and Château Frontenac, with everything illuminated. Click to enlarge to visit everything up close.

 
 
 [Note: this picture was taken by the same photographer who took the first picture in this posting, of the Cap Diamant, and consists of a composite of 84 images (!!!). It, too is a large file with a lot of pixels and may not download properly, or may freeze. If that's a problem, copy-and-paste this next link in a separate window in your browser: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:120_-_Qu%C3%A9bec_-_Septembre_2009.jpg On the lower right, find and click on the "Interactive Large-Image Viewer", then use the + and – signs at the lower left of the viewer.]
 
 

Modern Metropolitan Québec   It's been most fun looking at the beginnings of the city, but we need to see what Québec looks like beyond the historic walls. This stylized map (Map by Gilbert Bochenek) is a good starting point. Vieux-Québec on its promontory is easy to find, between the Saint Charles and Saint Lawrence. The rest of it flows to the west along the Saint Lawrence, and also north. On the right, find the road to the large Île d'Orléans / Orleans Island further downstream, not itself shown. On the left, the Grande Allée has always been the western extension of the Rue Saint-Louis; of note is the Boulevard Champlain along the shore. We've mentioned the neighborhood of Sainte-Foy at Québec's western end before. The city of Lévis runs along the south shore as a reflection of Québec. The location of the ferry from Old Québec to Old Lévis is indicated, at Québec's "front door", and two bridges, one of them the famous Pont de Québec, connect Québec's "back door" at Sainte-Foy with the Charny section of Lévis (not named here).

 
 

If you prefer something more "real life", here's a NASA satellite view of the same area. The more heavily populated areas of Québec and Lévis stand out. Here the closest 2/3 of the Île d'Orléans is visible. Find the bridge from the north shore that is the island's only connection to the mainland. I've driven over this bridge, and around the island, in the past. Although this is the bridge that's furthest downstream on the Saint Lawrence, it crosses only one arm. It's the rail-and-road Pont de Québec that continues to hold the honor of being furthest downstream, with the Pierre Laporte (road) Bridge just a bit further upstream. Although the "front-door" location of Vieux-Québec is known and named for the river's first narrows going upstream, it was practical instead to leave that as a ferry crossing and to use the next narrows upstream for bridge building, between Charny (Lévis) and Sainte-Foy (Québec).

 
 

We've spoken earlier about the consolidation two decades ago of most Canadian municipalities, and that occurred here as well. On 1 January 2002 on the south shore, ten municipalities merged from further downstream of Old Lévis to upstream of Charny at the two bridges to form the new incarnation of greater Lévis (lé.VI).

 
 

At the same time on the north bank, 12 (at first) former municipalities were merged to form an expanded Québec. This map shows the arrondissements / boroughs of Québec (Map by Boréal / Jean Gagnon). But there have been some very interesting changes since then. Many were unhappy with the merger, and a demerger referendum followed, on the basis of which, two municipalities divorced themselves from the new Québec and became independent again as of 1 January 2006, bringing the original total down to 10. Saint-Augustin-de-Desmaures was on the edge of the new conglomeration, southwest of Sainte-Foy (see map), but L'Ancienne-Lorette was right in the middle, leaving the hole you see on the map. Furthermore, there had been a Huron reserve/reservation called Wendake, which hadn't been involved in the first place, and that still accounts for the second hole in the map. Therefore, Wendake QC and L'Ancienne-Lorette QC are enclaves within the city of Québec. In addition, on 1 November 2009, Québec reorganized its arrondissements, reducing what had been 8 to the 6 you see on the map. That means that Sainte-Foy is now part of an arrondissement with a triple name (one community being Cartier's original settlement of Cap Rouge), and surprisingly to me, Vieux-Québec and its expanded western area, which is known as La Cité, was combined with a former arrondissement across the Saint Charles, Limoilou, to form the double-named area on the map.

 
 

Finally, we have a map of the entire Québec Region. Hover over the bottom to get your + and – signs to change the size. The inset map at the lower right shows the distance from Montreal, 233 km (145 mi) to the southwest, and all of the Île d'Orléans, with an ever widening river downstream. The left side of the main map shows in white, beyond the bridges, the two divorced municipalities, plus the Huron reserve. You can also see the main Campus de l'Université Laval in Sainte-Foy, and that La Cité and Sainte-Foy have not had their final arrondissement change on this map. The population of Québec in 2011 was 517K and of the metropolitan area 766K.

 
 

Pont de Québec/Québec Bridge   It's easy to think that the Québec Bridge is just a structure serving local needs until you know more about its history, and that it was part of a nationwide rail plan, the National Transcontinental Railway (NTR).

 
 

The first transcontinental railway in the world was built in the United States between 1863 and 1869 to connect its eastern rail network to San Francisco Bay. An early name for this link, no longer used, was the Pacific Railroad. The idea of uniting eastern and western North America caught on promptly in Canada as well, so once the Canadian Confederation was formed in 1867, British Columbia on the Pacific coast agreed in 1871 to join only on the condition that a rail link be built to connect BC with the eastern provinces. The Canadian government then created the Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR). By 1885 the CPR had connected Montreal to Vancouver, and eventually reached the Atlantic, becoming Canada's first transcontinental railroad.

 
 
 That name Canadian Pacific never used to make much sense to me, since the two words didn't seem to go together quite right. Why not something like "Canada-Pacific"?. But now it makes total sense to me. To contrast with the (American) Pacific Railroad, this was the CANADIAN Pacific Railroad. It's clear as a bell now.

This reminds me of another naming matter that similarly has a rival, cross-border component. As reported in 2008/20, the territory that included British Columbia (and more) and Oregon & Washington (and more) was divided by the Oregon Treaty 0f 1846 into the present components. However, the name of that territory was always in conflict, and resulted in each side using its own name for a new entity. The Americans had called the entire area the Oregon Country, which resulted in the name of the state of Oregon. But the British had always called the entire area the Columbia District. Once it was divided, the British (it was two decades before Canada was formed) considered the area south of the border American Columbia, a name that never caught on, but referred to the land it retained as British Columbia. Since it was by then the only Columbia, the word "British" was unnecessary, but was, and is, still used. In addition, the name was never updated to "Canadian" Columbia.
 
 

The Canadian Northern Railway (CNoR) owned a main line between Québec (City) and Vancouver and eventually acquired branch lines into Nova Scotia, making it the second Canadian transcontinental railway by 1912. After financial difficulties, it was nationalized as part of the Canadian National Railways (CNR) in 1923.

 
 

Before that, the government had wanted to form a third transcontinental system, but in two parts. It contracted with the Grand Trunk Railway (GTR), at that point Canada's largest, but operating largely in the east, to extend itself west of Winnipeg to Prince Rupert BC on the Pacific, by building, with government assistance, and operating the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway (GTPR). Then the government would build what it called the National Transcontinental Railway (NTR) in the east, from Moncton NB on the Atlantic to Winnipeg. The government would own the NTR, but GTR would operate it. The route of the NTR is of particular interest in that it would cut across Canada in a relatively straight line, well to the north of, and thereby avoiding the traffic of, the Corridor cities along the Saint Lawrence. It also avoided, and lost, the commerce of those cities, but the NTR would be cutting through mining and forestry areas that could be exploited, and would be bringing western grain directly to Québec and the Atlantic provinces. Construction began on the combined system in 1905, The GTPR opened in 1914 and the NTR in 1915, except for the Saint Lawrence crossing, which wasn't ready until 1919. However, this pair of railroads forming the third transcontinental route floundered financially as well. In 1920, first the GTPR was nationalized into Canadian National. The shareholders of the NTR, primarily in the UK, were determined that it should not be nationalized as well, but that happened nevertheless in 1923, along with the above CNoR. The entire plan occurred in the final days of Canada's railway boom, which collapsed during WWI as Canada's railroad bubble burst. Even in 1914 it wasn't clear that there was enough traffic for three transcontinental railways in Canada.

 
 

Today, Canadian National (Map by Central Data Bank) is Canada's largest railroad, and its only transcontinental railroad. Canadian Pacific (Map by Central Data Bank), although it had been the first, is no longer a transcontinental railroad, since it no longer reaches the Atlantic, but does continue to serve its original area between Vancouver and Montréal.

 
 

It's factual that there were very many UK investors involved in the Grand Trunk financial difficulties that let to the collapse of the third Canadian transcontinental project, and we can bring up an interesting fictional parallel. In 2013/4 we cited the Downton Abbey TV series to reflect fictionally on the actual Victorian and Edwardian attitude toward the "fragility" of women, which was only slowly changing in the early 1920's, and we can cite that series again here. A major event in the series is that Lord Grantham loses his fortune because of the failure in Canada of the Grand Trunk Railway in which he had invested far more than he should have, and is about to lose Downton Abbey until other financial arrangements are finally made. Fiction is not necessarily stranger than truth.

 
 

But let's come full circle again. What does all this business about transcontinental rail have to do with the Québec Bridge? Simple. It's the reason the bridge was built in the first place, to connect Canada's coasts, and then only secondarily to serve local traffic to cross the river between Québec and Lévis. The Québec bridge was the kingpin that held the route together from the Atlantic to the Pacific. To show this, we need to see a rail map, and the very best maps on the subject I have found on the website of David J Gagnon, in his section on Canadian National Railways. Rather than my linking directly to it, please open another window and copy and paste this link on your own: http://members.kos.net/sdgagnon/cna.html (If you're interested in other rail information on his site, scroll all the way down to the bottom of this linked page and click on "Back to sitemap".)

 
 

Scroll down to the first map you come across, which shows the Grand Trunk Railroad system at the outbreak of war in 1914. The red lines are the GTR's 1895 network and the blue lines are the National Transcontinental Railroad, owned by the government but run by the GTR. This is what we want to follow. It starts at Moncton, New Brunswick, the geographic center and transportation hub of the Maritimes, with direct access to the Atlantic. The route swings slightly to avoid Maine and stay in Canada, and then goes down to Lévis, the first practical crossing of the Saint Lawrence. From there, the route is a very straight line west to Winnipeg (off the map) to connect to the GTPR to Vancouver. But wait. That river link is still missing. The Québec Bridge wasn't completed until after the war, in 1919, hampering through rail traffic. In addition, the attempt to span the Saint Lawrence with what would become the longest cantilever bridge in the world would prove disasterous.

 
 

Before we explain that, and while we still have Gagnon's website handy, scroll down to the next map, which shows all the Canadian main lines east of Winnipeg in 1915, with the color code below the map. Look at the lines converging on Québec. Below this map is the map of lines west of Winnipeg, to Vancouver and Prince Rupert.

 
 

Construction planning on the Québec Bridge involved faulty design and inadequate supervision by engineers so that the actual weight of the bridge was far in excess of its carrying capacity. When the bridge was nearly finished after four years of construction, on 29 August 1907, the cantilever span on the south shore twisted and collapsed into the river with part of the central span in just 15 seconds, killing 75 workmen of the 86 that were on the bridge. This photo shows the wreckage of the 1907 collapse.

 
 

Work was resumed on building a stronger replacement bridge. The two cantilever spans were built, and the central span was being hoisted into place when, on 11 September 1916, disaster struck a second time and the central span fell into the river, killing 13 more workers. Wartime sabotage was suspected, just as it had been earlier that year on 3 February when the Centre Block of Parliament had burned in Ottawa (2013/3), but it turned out to be another tragic construction accident, a problem with the hoisting devices. The bridge, which was conceived to be one of the most advanced in the world, had now suffered two fatal disasters. That fallen central span lies at the bottom of the river to this day.

 
 

A new central span was constructed and hoisted into place, and the bridge finally opened to traffic after the war, in 1919. The building of the bridge was considered to be a major engineering achievement of the day, and Popular mechanics Magazine, in its issue of December 1919, published these photos of the lifting of the center span into place. Go from bottom to top to see how the center span ends up being supported by the two diamond-shaped cantilevers. It's the length of just the center span of 549 m (1800 ft) that makes this the longest cantilever bridge in the world. It also took a record away from the 1901 Alexandra Bridge in Ottawa (2013/3), which had been the longest cantilever bridge in Canada. The Canadian and American Society of Civil Engineers has declared the Québec Bridge a historic monument, and it has also been declared a National Historic Site of Canada.

 
 

Given its history, the Québec Bridge started out all rail, but tracks have been converted to roadways, and now there's three highway lanes and only one lane for trains. But then the Alexandra Bridge in Ottawa has no rail at all today. For additional road service, in 1970 the Pont Pierre-Laporte / Pierre Laporte Bridge was built about 200 m (660 ft) away from the Québec Bridge on the upstream side, allowing the Québec Bridge to maintain its title as the one crossing the entire river furthest downstream. The Laporte is the longest main-span suspension bridge in Canada and the longest suspension bridge in the world that doesn't have any tolls.

 
 

Let's take a look. All three pictures just happen to be looking south, from Sainte-Foy (Québec) to Charny (Lévis). This is the Québec Bridge (Photo by GboivinT) from the downstream side. Understanding the relationship and history of the cantilevers and the center span makes it that much more impressive. The Laporte is visible on the other side, and this beautiful night view (Photo by Martin St-Amant) is taken on that upstream side. This third one is of both bridges (Photo by Musidoz), from the upstream side.

 
 

Personal Visits   I've always told people I'd been in Québec twice, although some time ago. In my mind's eye, they were day trips, but consulting our travel diaries I see we actually stayed one night each time. The first visit was coming southbound on the river in July 1969, as part of one of our monumental driving trips around North America. We walked the whole Vieux-Québec and drove off to the west, noting in the travel diary that we passed the new campus of Laval.

 
 

The second visit was in early August 1980. We'd just finished our oral exams for our doctorates at Middlebury, and had time before graduation in mid-August for a drive through New England and the Atlantic Provinces. This was when we came down the Saint Lawrence, took a ferry to visit Saguenay, then came down the north bank, stopping on the Île d'Orleans, then Québec. Again, we made a point in the diary that we'd passed Laval leaving, which means that both times we must have crossed one of the other of the two bridges to the south bank, but not having known the history of the bridges, I have no idea which one we drove over either time. I'm pleased that I've finally learned to prepare myself so much better for recent travel.

 
 

Knowing I really liked Québec, but had already been there, I had no further plans for a revisit until I was on the ship in 2011 leaving the Amazon and got to know the banjoist, Peter Mezoian (2011/14). We dined together several times, during which he mentioned that, on all his travels entertaining on ships, Québec was his favorite port. On his bio on his website he even calls it "Paradise Found". Thus the bee entered the bonnet. When I was planning this Canadian Trio, seeing Québec properly seemed exactly the right thing to do, and I would leave the best of the three stops for the last.

 
 

This posting is being called a Prolog. Readers who followed it should now familiar with all sorts of locations, place names, historical people, events—and bridges. Whether you are well familiar with Québec, like Peter, slightly familiar, or have never been there at all, during the next posting, called "A Traveler in Québec", you should be able to walk with said traveler up and down the côtes, along the ramparts and through their gates for a vicarious visit that will be as pleasant and fulfilling as can be planned. And you save on shoe leather.

 
 
 
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