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 Rivière 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 topography and hydrology 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.

I have a feeling we're not in Montreal anymore. I’ve been asked a number of times if I’ve ever come across anything underground in Montreal that’s surprised me. I never really quite know what to say since most of what I see is fairly predictable. It’s mostly pipes and chambers of varying sizes, constructed out of either concrete, brick or occasionally metal. I haven't (yet) come across any dead bodies, pirate ships or gold coins — although I did find an old wallet once. What surprises do exist usually aren’t worth mentioning; a section that abruptly ends or a stretch that gets larger in diameter when you were expecting it to get smaller. Not exactly the sort of stuff that inspires answers people are hoping to hear. Occasionally, though, I do come across things that I’d consider to be quite out of the ordinary and this entry involves one such example. Enter the Cote St Paul Collector Sewer The Côte St. Paul collector (CSPC) delivers wastewater from the southern half of Côte St. Paul towards the eastern edge of Point St Charles where it falls into a far larger sewer, the Saint Pierre Collector. View Cote Str Paul Collector Sewer in a larger map The main arm of the CSPC begins as a 6’ brick pipe built during the late 1800s and finishes with 12’ prefabricated concrete pipe that was set during the 1990s. Running parallel for much of its length is the former water conduit turned sewer that I covered in this entry. A short connection exits between the two via a 5’ pipe, thus allowing any excess flow to be conveyed from one sewer to the other. I’m assuming the CSPC was added (or more likely reconstructed) to accommodate the burgeoning neighbourhoods that came after the second world war.

A view through the original Point St. Charles collector sewer, constructed in 1862. Perhaps the most interesting underground features in the Montreal area are found within the old sewers during the mid to late 1800s. Usually constructed entirely of brick and of sizes up to 9’ in diameter, they often appear to be steeped in history in a way that newer concrete sewers just can’t compare to. They have a warmer and organic quality to them as well that I tend to appreciate. Where concrete sewer systems can feel like cold modernist pieces of architecture, the brick ones seem more like inviting Victorian homes. A good example of these characteristics can be found within the Point St. Charles Collector. As its name implies, this sewer was responsible for the drainage of the eastern half of Point St. Charles. (The western half was serviced by another sewer that I first started to explore in this entry on Under Montreal). The sewer was also responsible for a portion of the neighbourhood once known as Victoriatown. Given that so little from this area can still be found at street level, it’s of some comfort that at least its sewer system can still be found and explored today.

The grit removal tanks of Montreal's wastewater treatment plant. Montreal’s wastewater treatment plant can be found at the far east end of the island in Pointe Aux Trembles. It's the largest in North America and ranks the third largest in the world- capable of handling 32 square metres of water a second. Raw sewage (usually) ends up here via a network of deep-level tunnels referred to as interceptors. These interceptors form a ring around the island, collecting and distributing wastewater to the plant before it has a chance to enter the surrounding rivers. To get a better sense of how the interceptors work, you can have a look at the entry I posted earlier on Undermontreal. Montreal's wastewater treatment plant as seen from Microsoft Live Maps. While it’s an impressive system in terms of its scope and capacity, the treatment process itself leaves much to be desired. In fact, it’s actually one of the worst in Canada. A national "report card" issued by the Sierra Club in 2004 gave the city's treatment process a grade of F-. The only other city to receive a grade worse than Montreal was Victoria, a place which doesn't even have a treatment process in place yet.

Inside the Montreal's former water intake conduit In my last entry I talked about Montreal’s Aqueduct canal and its role in bringing water to the city of Montreal. In this entry, we'll begin to go underground, but first, a bit more history... I mentioned the use of hydraulic machinery and how it was powered by water by the aqueduct. Only a small portion of that water (less than 5%) was actually sent through the pipes and into homes and businesses. By the late 1800s, several problems with this system started to make it less than ideal. The first issue was that demand for water was increasing and more horsepower was required to distribute it. The aqueduct at the turn of the century, roughly a quarter the width it is today, was incapable of providing the hydraulic horsepower necessary to power the pumps. On top of this, the success of system was often at the whims of mother nature. Low water levels in the summer and ice blockages in the winter frequently reduced pumping capacity. As a result, steam power, which was both cost and labour intensive, would then have to be used as a back-up.