On reaching the north side of the river, on which Quebec stands, we got
into an omnibus and drove up streets of a most tremendous ascent; it was
really quite alarming, as the pavement was in the most dreadful state,
and the omnibus, which was very rickety, was crammed with passengers.
Next morning we got up very early, and papa went out before breakfast to
inquire for the letters which we expected to receive from England, but
which had not yet arrived.
After an early breakfast we went in an open carriage to the Falls of
Montmorency, and I think I never had a more lovely drive. We passed
through several most prosperous-looking villages, and between farm
houses so closely adjoining each other as to give the appearance of a
long suburb to the city. At Beauport, about half-way between Quebec and
Montmorency, there is a splendid Roman Catholic church, which would do
credit to any country. The inhabitants here and at Quebec generally are
entirely French Canadians, and the driver here, as at Montreal, was
quite in the Cohare[4] style for intelligence and respectable
appearance. The falls of Montmorency are a little way off the road, and
the approach to the top of the fall down a flight of wooden stairs is
very easy. The river here descends in one great fall of 250 feet, and as
the river is 60 feet wide, the proportion between the height and the
breadth of the fall seems nearly perfect.
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