Wolfe came next morning.

But the Governor again counter-ordered, and the important strategical position was left undefended.

The history of Wolfe's landing reads like a tale of romance. Print carries a certain conviction with it, but it is only when one stands on the spot where he and his men silently left their boats and climbed up the wet steep banks of the river that the tale of that night attack in the rain and the darkness can be even faintly understood. In the silence of the woods the whole scene very vividly impresses itself, and almost one can imagine the hush of the night, when the brawling of the little stream and the slipping of the men's feet on the loamy uneven soil were the only things to break the silence. It was a breathless climb and victory was never ensured, while defeat could only mean total annihilation. Needless to say such a consideration did not act as a deterrent to Wolfe and the men whom he commanded. Some sleepy sentries were found in the little wood, and the rest is soon told. Montcalm, reconnoitring the plains in the early dawning, found that a red wall had sprung up across it in the night and shouted, "There they are where they have no right to be."

"He had no choice but instant action. He rode down the front of his line of battle, stopping to say a few stirring words to each regiment as he passed. Whenever he asked the men if they were tired, they said they were never tired before a battle; and all ranks showed as much eagerness to come to close quarters as the British did themselves. . . . Montcalm towered aloft and alone the last great Frenchman of the Western World he never stood higher in all manly minds than on that fatal day. And, as he rode before his men there, his

presence seemed to call them on like a drapeau vivant of France herself."

"Never were stauncher champions than those two leaders and their six brigadiers. Let us remember how, on the victorious side, the young commander was killed in the forefront of the fight; how his successor was wounded at the head of his brigade; and how the command-in-chief passed from hand to hand, with bewildering rapidity, till each of the four Generals had held it in turn during the space of one short half-hour: then, how the devotion of the four Generals on the other side was even more conspicuous, since every single one of these brave men laid down his life to save the day for France; and, above all, let us remember how lasting the twin renown of Wolfe and Montcalm themselves should be, when the one was so consummate in his victory, and the other so truly glorious in defeat.'"

The ramparts of Quebec tell other stories which would take too long to recount. Two invasions by America were defeated. The first by Frontenac in 1690, and the second under Murray and Carleton when Arnold and Montgomery were repulsed. There is an interesting monument to the memory of the defenders upon which is inscribed :

Here stood

Her Old And New Defenders
Uniting, Guarding, Saving,
Canada.
Defeating Arnold

At the Sault-Au-Matelot Barricade
On the last day of

1775
Guy Carleton

Commanding at
Quebec.

The third American invasion was in 1812, but this time the tide of war did not sweep up to her battlements. In 1822 the citadels and walls built after a plan approved by Wellington were completed at a cost of £7,000,000. This was only one item of over £100,000,000 sterling spent by the mother country in the works and actual fortifications alone.

As we walk upon the solid ramparts of stone we are told of this vast expenditure of money laudably and rightly spent, but looking round at the country, at the St. Lawrence River, and the old town at our feet, we are reminded, not for the first time, that it is not money but the lives of men that make bulwarks, and in old heroic Quebec this fact is so apparent that we should be unworthy if we did not send a grateful thought back to those who lived and died there long ago.

Chapter IV

T

Story of the C.P.R.

HE actual making of the C.P.R. is so full of interest and even of romance that it is difficult to dissociate it in one's mind from stories of fancy and imagination.

Canada was to become a nation; more than that it was to become a compact and powerful nation. East and West were to join hands in a strong grip; scattered districts, provinces the size of empires were to be joined together under one Flag, and the integrating factor was to be the great railway system of Canada. As we now know, its final triumph has been complete, but men still living can remember the early days of the Canadian Pacific Railway, which are almost more like the personal history of a living creature than the story of a line of rails. The defeats, the hopes, the despair which followed each other quickly contributed to the personal interest that surrounds it, while the very fact that, like all pioneers, the railway was met by scoffs and jeers carries the analogy still further, and promotes almost a sense of affection and loyalty to the great enterprise.

The proper treatment of the subject involves the whole story of the federation of Canada. It could hardly be briefly described, and yet it is so well known that it seems hardly necessary to do more than recapitulate it here.

The gigantic scheme had been the dream of politicians, the objective of Lord Durham's famous Proclamation, and the kernel of Sir John Macdonald's magnificent and far-reaching policy.

During his short regime as Govenor-General, Lord Durham, in 1840, had brought about the union of Upper and Lower Canada, but at the same time he had made a larger and more comprehensive suggestion.

He wrote in his report:

"I discussed the general improvement of the government of the colonies with the deputations from the Lower Provinces and with various leading individuals and public bodies in both the Canadas, and I was gratified by finding the leading minds of the various Colonies generally inclined to a scheme that would elevate their countries into something like national existence. I am inclined to go further and enquire whether all those objects would not more surely be obtained by extending this legislative union over all the British Provinces in North America, and whether the advantages which I anticipate for two of them might not and should not in justice be extended over all. It would enable all the Provinces to co-operate, and above all it would form a great and powerful people possessing the [means of securing a responsible Government, for itself, and which under the protection of the British Empire might in some measure counterbalance the preponderality and increasing influence of the United States on the American Continent."

His masterly suggestion was not carried out at the time, but it remained an ideal in the minds of far-seeing men, and when in 1864 the Maritime provinces of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and