THERE was a sparkle of trees as we motored again the next morning along the St. Louis road, cheerfully bound for luncheon at Spencer Wood, the present Government House of the Province of Quebec. It stands on the banks of the St. Lawrence, a charming and dignified successor to one of the most hospitable and well-beloved mansions of the old régime.
For the first house on this site was Powell Place, dating back to 1780, and named after a relative of the owner, General Henry W. Powell. It was originally a splendid old seat of more than a hundred acres, enclosed between two streams and hidden from the highroad by dense foliage, even as Government House is to-day.
After luncheon we went into the garden, a lovely place admired for many generations. Ancient books describe it as so beautiful that “botanizing excursions were often made by ladies and gentlemen from the surrounding countryside.” Within the large gardens there was “an elfish plot” for roses, “a circular fount in white marble,” conservatories, graperies, peach and orchid houses and pavilions looking towards Sillery and Isle d’Orléans. [page 48]
The estate was destined to many changes. After the Powells came the Percevals—the Honourable H. Michael Perceval, who was closely connected with the Earl of Egmont. During his tenure, he was the host of many fêtes and ceremonious dinners. Mrs. Perceval was the daughter of Sir Charles Flower, a Lord Mayor of London—so that in 1806, at the age of eighteen, she had been his official hostess. The link with England was therefore doubly strong. It was at the moment, too, when the real discovery of Canada as a land of promise was definitely made. It was quite ‘the thing’ to brave a sailing ship to these shores. Quebec was the social centre of British North America, and Powell Place one of its open doors. Visitors from Europe met old Canadian families here: the Duchesneys, the Montizamberts, the Uniackes, the Van Felsons, the de Gaspés, Bâbys, and others.
As visitors walked about the beautiful grounds they could see the deep blue lights reflected in a hundred varying tones on Jacques Cartier’s mystic river, the river of dreams, rolling below the high cliffs on which the house was set. Sometimes a half-tame deer startled the silence of the deep woods surrounding the estate. The Duke of Richmond, who visited here with Lady Sarah, in 1810, said that it was the loveliest spot in all this vast new world.
After the Percevals came Henry Atkinson, a [page 49] merchant prince of Quebec, who carried out the generous tradition of hospitality. It was from him that the Government, in 1849, obtained the property as a vice-regal residence for the Earl of Elgin; and it is here that our valued friend of the Canadian Maple Leaves comes in, for he, Sir James LeMoine, acquired by purchase ten years later, forty acres of the original estate upon which he built Spencer Grange, and where he lived and died.
Divided from Spencer Wood by a high brick wall and fences, the Grange was always its happy neighbour. In Sir James’ own quaint description it was “girt by a zone of trees which made emerald wreaths when the sun shone, and was oft times dipped in molten gold.”
“The house faces the river,” he wrote, “where the Belle Borne rill rushes down the bank to Spencer Cove; and the place is a great resort of birds.”
What The Grange was to Toronto, Spencer Grange was to the Quebec of fifty year ago: its literary mecca, the place where scholars met, the home of one of the most delightful of essayists and raconteurs.
Walking on the terrace, we could see the old Grange smiling in the sun. We thought of a happy afternoon spent there years ago, with the daughter of Sir James LeMoine in his wonderful old library, which contains a rare collection of curios, and volumes [page 50] relating to Canadian history, MSS, plans, inscriptions, and views of ancient buildings.
Next to his library and his aviary, Sir James took pride in an extensive vinery, which he cultivated with great enthusiasm. When the grapes were ripe he prepared a festival for his friends, which he called “a symposium under the shadow of the luscious vine.”..Here, amid flowers and birds and books, many of the choice spirits of the old capital would gather; among them, prominently, the historians, Garneau and Ferland.
Most of the members of that delightful circle have gone, but it is a satisfaction, to those who care for beautiful old places, to know that the ancient estate of Spencer Wood is apparently destined to continue its dignified existence, undisturbed by encroachment on the part of the growing city of Quebec. [page 51]
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