I can recall the time also when Lady Dalhousie and Mrs. Sheppard, of
Woodfield, would come to Spencer Wood,
In their botanizing excursions.
Spencer Wood, later on, was also a favorite resort of Lady Aylmer, in
1832, whilst at an earlier period, the Duke of Richmond's family, in
1818, used to come and ramble about the grounds, lunching there with
all the junior folks.
This charming and beloved lady, my old friend, Ann Perceval, died at
Lewes Castle, Stornaway. Scotland, the seat of her son in law, Sir
James Matheson, on the 23rd Nov., 1876, most deservedly regretted, at
the very advanced age of eighty-seven years." - 24 January, 1877.
Spencer Wood garden is described in London's Encyclopedia of Gardening,
page 341, and also in the Gardener's Magazine for 1837, at page 467. Its
ornate style of culture, which made it a show-place for all strangers
visiting Quebec, was mainly due to the scientific and tasty arrangements
of an eminent landscape gardener, M. P. Lowe, [230] now in charge of the
Cataraqui conservatories.
Well can we recall the time when this lordly demesne extended from
Wolfefield, adjoining Marchmont, to the meandering Belle-Borne brook,
which glides past the porter's lodge at Woodfield, due west, the historic
stream Ruisseau Saint Denis, up which clambered the British hero,
Wolfe, to conquer or die, intersecting it at Thornhill. It was then a
splendid old seat of more than one hundred acres, a fit residence for the
proudest nobleman England might send us as Viceroy - enclosed east and west
between two streamlets, hidden from the highway by a dense growth of oak,
maple, dark pines and firs - the forest primeval - letting in here and there
the light of heaven on its labyrinthine avenues; a most striking
landscape, blending the sombre verdure of its hoary trees with the soft
tints of its velvety sloping lawn, fit for a ducal palace. An elfish plot
of a flower garden, alas! how much dwarfed, then stood in rear of the
dwelling to the north, it once enjoyed the privilege of attracting many
eyes. It had also an extensive and well-kept fruit and vegetable garden,
enlivened with flower beds, the centre of which was adorned with the
loveliest possible circular fount in white marble, supplied with the
crystal element from the Belle-Borne rill by a hidden aqueduct;
conservatories, graperies, peach and forcing houses, pavilions
picturesquely hung over the yawning precipice on two headlands, one
looking towards Sillery, the other towards the Island of Orleans, the
scene of many a cosy tea-party; bowers, rustic chairs perdues among
the groves, a superb bowling green and archery grounds. The mansion itself
contained an exquisite collection of paintings from old masters, a well-
selected library of rare and standard works, illuminated Roman missals,
rich portfolios with curious etchings, marble busts, quaint statuettes,
medals and medallions, objets de vertu purchased by the millionaire
proprietor during a four years' residence in Italy, France and Germany.
Such we remember Spencer Wood in its palmiest days, when it was the ornate
home of a man of taste, the late Henry Atkinson, Esquire, the President of
the Horticultural Society of Quebec.
May I be pardoned, for lingering lovingly on this old spot, recalling
"childhood scenes" of one dear to me and mine!
The following, written by a valued old friend of Mr. Atkinson, is dated
Brighton, England:
On a sketch of Spencer Wood sent to the writer (Miss A.), with her
album, Oct. 18, 1848.
Dear Spencer Wood! What a group of pleasing remembrances are clustered
around me as I gaze upon this visible image and type of thee. Thy
classic lawn, with its antiquated oaks and solemn pines; thy wood-
crowned cliffs and promontories, with the sparkling sunlight reflected
on a thousand sheaves from the broad surface of Jacques Cartier's
river, hundreds of feet below. And then the quiet repose of thy ample
mansion, with its stores of art and models of taste within and
without; thy forest shades, thy gardens, thy flowers and thy fruit.
But most of all, thy gay and happy inmates, their glad and joyous
hearts beating with generous emotions, and their countenances
brightened with the welcome smile. Ah! how I seem to hear, as in time
past I have heard, their lively prattle, or their merry laugh echoing
across the lawn, or through the flower garden, or along the winding
paths down the steep slope to the pavilion.
And can it be that I shall never again realize these happy scenes! I
would fain hope otherwise; but life is a changeful drama, and time
fleeting; this world is not our home.
Adieu, then, dear friends. May God's blessing ever rest upon you; and
should it be His providence that we meet not again here, may we all so
use His dealings with us in this disciplinary state that we may be
sure to meet.
Brighton, Dec. 20th. In memory of some pleasant moments.
E. E. DOUGLASS.
In the beginning of the century Spencer Wood, as previously stated, was
known as Powell Place. His Excellency Sir James Henry Craig spent there
the summers of 1808-9-10. Even the healthy air of Powell Place failed to
cure him of gout and dropsy. A curious letter from Sir James to his
secretary and charge d'affaires in London, H. W. Ryland, Esquire, dated
"Powell Place, 6th August, 1810," has been, among others, preserved by the
historian Robert Christie. It alludes in rather unparliamentary language
to the coup d'etat which had on the 19th March, 1810, consigned to a
Quebec dungeon three of the most prominent members of the Legislature,
Messrs. Bedard, Taschereau and Blanchet, together with Mr. Lefrancois, the
printer of the Canadien newspaper, for certain comments in that journal
on Sir James' colonial policy. Sir James had spent the greatest part of
his life in the army, actively battling against France; a Frenchman for
him was a traditional enemy. This unfortunate idea seems more than once to
have inspired his colonial policy with regard to the descendants of
Frenchmen whom he ruled.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 122 of 231
Words from 124505 to 125518
of 236821
