Few eyes look up now-a-days to its broad facade. It
was otherwise when the beautiful Angelique de Meloises sat of summer
evenings on the balcony, surrounded by a bevy of Quebec's fairest
daughters, who loved to haunt her windows where they could see and be seen
to the best advantage exchanging salutations, smiles and repartees with
the gay young officers and gallants who rode or walked along its lively
thoroughfare."
The novelist has selected this historic house for the meeting of the
lovers, on Christmas Eve 1748. Here Le Gardeur de Repentigny, the loyal
and devoted cavalier was to meet the fascinating, but luckless Cleopatra
of St Louis street a century ago and more.
"As Le Gardeur spoke, adds Mr. Kirby; a strain of heavenly harmony
arose from the chapel of the Convent of the Ursulines, where they were
celebrating midnight service for the safety of New France. Amid the
sweet voices that floated up on the notes of the pealing organ was
clearly distinguished that of Mere St. Borgia, the aunt of Angelique,
who led the choir of nuns. In trills and cadences of divine melody,
the voice of Mere St. Borgia rose higher and higher, like a spirit
mounting the skies. The words were indistinct, but Angelique knew them
by heart. She had visited her aunt in the convent, and had learned the
new hymn composed by her for the solemn occasion. As they listened
with quiet awe to the supplicating strain, Angelique repeated to Le
Gardeur the words of the hymn as it was sung by the choir of nuns: -
Soutenez, grande Reine,
Notre pauvre pays!
Il est votre domaine,
Faites fleurir nos lis!
L'Anglais sur nos frontieres,
Porte ses etandards
Exaucez nos prieres
Protegez nos remparts!"
"The hymn ceased. Both stood mute until the watchman cried the hour in
the silent street."
We shall not follow further the beautiful but heartless Cleopatra through
her deadly schemes of conquest, or in her flight after the Intendant.
Sixteen years after the departure of the Court beauty, on a dark, stormy
winter morning, the 31st December, 1775, a loud note of alarm awoke at
dawn from their slumbers the demure denizens of St. Louis street. It was
the captain of the guard, Captain Malcolm Fraser, [26] formerly of
Fraser's Highlanders (78th), but now of the 84th Royal Emigrants, Col.
Allan McLean - who, on going his rounds between 4 and 5 in the morning, had
passed the guard at St. Louis gate, and had noticed flashes like lightning
on the heights without the works. Convinced it was for an attack, he sent
notice to all the guards, and ran down St. Louis street, calling "Turn
out" as loud and as often as he could.
