A rare view of Rivière St. Pierre, 1956, location unknown.

I recently stumbled across a peculiar old map for the island of Montreal showing a rather fantastic depiction of the island’s former creeks and lakes. It’s unlike any other map of the island I’ve ever come across. There’s no publication date printed on it, but given its author, Aristide Beaugrand-Champagne, it likely dates from the 1920s.

Beaugrand-Champagne was one of the city’s  architects and historians. He was also the originator of the idea that Jacques Cartier first arrived in Montreal from the north via Riviere Des Prairies rather than the South. Though it had its share of proponents, it was, and still is a controversial theory. This point of Cartier’s landing is highlighted on his map along the north shore, in Sault Au Ricollet.

During his studies, Beaugrand-Champagne paid special attention to the island’s former watercourses. In doing so, he came to the conclusion that the Iroquois village of Hochelaga was once situated in Outremont rather than in an area contained somewhere within the McGill University campus— another controversial theory for its time.

Anyway, with that mini-history lesson is out of the way. Here’s Monsieur Beaugrand-Champagne’s pièce de résistance. Clicking on the map for the larger view is recommended for this one.

Beaugrand-Champagne's map illustrating the island's topgography and hyrdrology between 1542 and 1642.

It’s hard to tell how much of this map is based on Beaugrand-Champagne’s knowledge of the island’s geography and how much of it is based on his imagination or even cultural bias. Any illustration attempting to show what the island looked like more than a couple of centuries ago is bound to have a certain degree of inaccuracy, and this one is no different.

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There’s a terrific multi-page article about Montreal’s lost rivers in the Saturday edition of The Gazette. I’ve been working with journalist Marian Scott who did an excellent job researching the subject by bringing in a broad range of people including city historians, architects, engineers, geologists and environmentalists. It’s been a fun and interesting project and it was nice to see a few of my photos used. I really wasn’t expecting to see myself on the front page so that was a nice surprise.

Unfortunately what’s online isn’t quite as interesting without a lot of the visuals that are in the print version, but for anyone interested in having a read, you’ll find the different sections below.

Our island’s lost rivers – main article

‘Drainer’ explores the world of water under our feet – section about yours truly (a few of the numbers in there aren’t quite right, but otherwise all is good)

Water, water everywhere -  summary of some of the island’s lost watercourses

This CSI tracks a polluted creek – section involving Daniel Green of Le Société Pour Vaincre la Pollution (the Society to Conquer Pollution)

So the weather’s been pretty lousy lately here. There’s been too much rain (or the threat of rain) for it to be safe enough to venture underground. So instead  I’ve been learning how to use the Google Maps API in order to create  something a bit more comprehensive for the sewers in Montreal. I’ve been making use of Google Maps so far, but have only been drawing out individual portions. Hopefully this is a bit better.

This is still very much a work in progress, but I figured it’s good enough to launch now. I’ll be using it to reference certain things in future entries.

You can find it through the top menu or right here: www.undermontreal.com/maps

The paths for the former creeks were taken from an impressive plan published in 1958 by the city of Montreal’s Water and Sanitation department.  It’s probably in need of some simplification and even a few revisions as it seems to contradict a lot of older maps, especially for the northern portion of the island.

The collector sewer paths are based on a few city planning maps combined with a fair amount of estimation on my part. Eventually I’ll be adding more paths and probably be making a number of revisions,  but in the meantime, this will have to do.

Preparing the foundation for the Meilleur-Atlantique tributary sewer on north shore of Montreal. (Photo source: City of Montreal Archives)

How else dispose of an immortal force
No longer needed? Staunch it at its source
With cinder loads dumped down? The brook was thrown
Deep in a sewer dungeon under stone
In fetid darkness still to live and run –
And all for nothing it had ever done
Except forget to go in fear perhaps.
No one would know except for ancient maps
That such a brook ran water. But I wonder
If from its being kept forever under,
The thoughts may not have risen that so keep
This new-built city from both work and sleep.

- excerpt from A Brook in the City by Robert Frost, 1923

I’ve already written a bit about how most of Riviere St. Pierre has been lost, but it’s definitely not the only river or creek to have suffered this fate. Perhaps “lost” isn’t the best word to use. While the majority have been removed from both the landscape and our collective memory,  their waters can still be found beneath us, flowing through the island’s sewer system.

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At the mouth of Riviere St. Pierre during the early stages of Montreal in 1700.

In a golf course to the west of downtown Montreal, you’ll find the last remaining portion of Rivière Saint-Pierre that still exists above ground. 200 meters are all that are left of a river system that once flowed freely over the landscape. The rest of it’s been retrofitted into the city’s sewer system or lost entirely. This one brief open stretch is found at the river’s upper reaches, in the town of Montreal Ouest. If one were to follow the river’s original path downstream from here, fifteen kilometers later you’d find yourself standing at the tip of Pointe à Callière. It was here, where the river spilled out into the open waters of the St. Lawrence that the city of Montreal first began.

“Here I examined the country very carefully, but after looking everywhere found no spot more suitable than a little place to which pinnaces and shallops can ascend. And near this Place Royale, there is a small river, which leads to some distance into the interior, alongside which are more than sixty arpents of land, which have been cleared and are now like meadow, where one might sow grain and do gardening. [...] So, having examined very carefully and found this spot to be one of the finest on this river, I ordered the trees of the Place Royale to be cut down and cleared off, in order to level the ground and make it ready for building.”

- Samuel de Champlain, 1611

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