The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1906-08-23

was destroyed by the batteries from
Lewis, across the river.
On the north side of the Place
d'Armes, coming off Dulferin Terrace, is
the Union building, erected in 1905, up
on the site of previous building oc-
cupied as residence in 1649 by Cover
nor d'Ailleboust. This building was
originally occupied by the famous
Baron's Club, and afterwards used as
the Union and st. Georges hotels and
as government Offices. 1t was under
this roof that war was declared with
the United States in 1912. 1t is now
occupied and owned by tailor, ID.
Morgan, who runs common tailor shop
in the historical old building. Every
turn that we take in Quebec brings us
face to face with some memorial of the
past, and most of it's streets perpetuate
the name of it's worthless. Among the
curious streets that every visitor is
sure to.see may be mentioned Sous-le-
Cap and the site of the famous Break
neck stairs. Even the old postoffice has
it's history, for it is built on the site of
an old legendary haunted house known
as lie Chen dor. There, in the wall
can be seen the curious old stone with
it's inscription and it's golden dog gnaw
ing it's bone as of old. Passing along
st. Louis street, on the right is the
Place dArmes, military parade
grounds in the days of the French
regime. On the left is Kent House, the
residence of the Duke of Kent while in
Canada. In striking contrast is the
court house on the opposite side
OF the street. But contrasts are COM
mon in Quebec, for here the old and
the new meet together as they meet no.
where else on the continent. Close by
is the little old fashioned house once
occupied as the headquarters of General
Montcalm. Here he held his councils
OF war, and prepared his plans for the
defence of the city in 1850. Further on
we pass the Esplanade, beside the city
walls, used by the British troops as
parade ground.
By winding streets crooked and mar
row we drive up to the great citadel,
towering hundreds of feet above the
city proper and the river, which is en-
closed with massive walls of stone, on
which are located grim guns which
could blow fleet Of vessels coming up
the river to kingdom come. The citadel
is occupied by British soldiers and
guides were proved for our party who
took us over the citadel and out on the
parapet where magnificent view of the
city and the surrounding country is had.
The picture spread out beneath our
feet can nowhere be duplicated. Here
the lily banner of the Bourbons and the
time-worn flag of England have been
unfurled in token of supremacy. Yon-
der is the spot where the noblest sons
of France and England fought for the
empire of this land, in the memorable
battle of the Plains of Abraham. No
pen is needed to tell the glory of their
death. Behind Dufferin Terrace in the
Governors garden, the granite monu-
ment tells the story by it's simple in
scription: "In memory of Wolfe and
Montcalm.' Vanquisher and vanquish-
ed lie silent in the tomb, but their
names are linked together in an indis-
soluble wreath of glory. Nestled to-
gether below US are the antique gables,
the peculiar roofs, the quaint spires and
the historic walls that take us back in
to the last century, and side by side
with them, increasing their interest,
are the grand modern structures of the
present. Looking away beyond the
churches and monuments, the ramparts
and gates, we behold picture that no
pen can delineate and no poet describe.
Across the river are the heights of
Lewis and above it's frowning fortifica-
tions rises the summer sun; whose
beams gild the spires of a hundred
historic buildings, each with story
that might be the basis of a real
romance. Still looking to the right, the
Isle of Orleans divides the waters of
the St. Lawrence. Then across the
stream
"Where yonder mountains, cracked
And sundered by volcanic fire,
Sings Montmorency's cataract
Fit chord for such a granite Tyre"
Then the village of BEAUFORT stretches
it's serpentine length along the shore.
Beyond the BEAUFORT Flats rises the
blue Laurentians, mound over mound.
till they blend with the feecy clouds
upon the distant horizon. From out the
forests and fields glances the steeple of
the Charlesbourg church, hamlet
with history of it's own. Behind this
again, appears the humble but still more
interesting chapel of the indian village
of Lorette. Still turning westward, we
notice the beautiful St. Charles river
i