[En route to Quebec—Tuesday, 2 July 1867]
July 2d Sat until 12 last night, the day died down resplendently as we passed Longueuil Verchères and the rest which are really but one long village the whole length of the river. The molten chrystal of the sky ornamented by dark wreaths of coal smoke from the steamer and every here and there stone wind-mills and tin-roofed churches brilliant as silver made the voyage exquisite while we sat and talked of “all lovely things” on the shady boat-side; it seemed as if we might do this forever Mr E.E.H. said and as if the only cross in life would be when the time came to go to the other side of the boat! After the stars came out and supper was despatched, we sat again upon the deck getting enchanted by each others legends and stories until the town of the Three Rivers came in sight. At first it looked simply as if the stars were having a party on that side of the river. Then we saw it was an illuminated city and as we drew nearer to the shore looking like those of another Venice, a torch-light procession with music advanced along the principal street skirting the shore. It was indeed lovely, especially when they ascended a curved bridge and descended to our boat-side. As we left the banks and watched the retreating splendors it was more like a vision of Aladdin’s palace than anything I could think of. This vision reminded us that the hour for dreams had indeed arrived. It was already midnight, priests and soldiers were becoming quiet & children had long before disappeared—so reaching Quebec would be in sight early, we retired unwillingly from “the sweet common air” outside.
