In the rosy days of his budding fame, the gifted Henry Ward Beecher
discoursed as follows of the Rock City [4]: -
"Curious old Quebec! - of all the cities on the continent of America,
the quaintest.... It is a populated cliff. It is a mighty rock,
scarped and graded, and made to hold houses and castles which, by a
proper natural law, ought to slide off from its back, like an ungirded
load from a camel's back. But they stick. At the foot of the rocks,
the space of several streets in width has been stolen from the
river.... We landed....
"Away we went, climbing the steep streets at a canter with little
horses hardly bigger than flies, with an aptitude for climbing
perpendicular walls. It was strange to enter a walled city through low
and gloomy gates, on this continent of America. Here was a small bit
of mediaeval Europe perched upon a rock, and dried for keeping, in
this north-east corner of America, a curiosity that has not its equal,
in its kind, on this side of the ocean....
"We rode about as if we were in a picture-book, taming over a new leaf
at each street!... The place should always be kept old. Let people go
somewhere else for modern improvements. It is a shame, when Quebec
placed herself far out of the way, up in the very neighbourhood of
Hudson's Bay, that it should be hunted and harassed with new-fangled
notions, and that all the charming inconveniences and irregularities
of narrow and tortuous streets, that so delight a traveller's eyes,
should be altered to suit the fantastic notions of modern people....
"Our stay in Quebec was too short by far.
