Place d'Armes (Arms' Square), Montreal

One of the oldest public spaces in Montreal, Arms' Square has a rather epic history to it, dating back over 300 years. The name itself sounds dramatic, and rightly so. “Pláce d'Armes” was the classic French term for a military gathering ground, a place where defenders assembled in uncertain times. This is actually the third spot in Montreal to carry this title, and it wears it well.

But the square didn’t always go by such a bold name. When it first appeared in 1693, it was called Place de la Fabrique—or Factory Square—before being renamed, in 1721, for having hosted drills and military parades. Then came a surprising career change: from 1781 to 1813, it operated as a hay and wood market. By 1836, the city acquired it, turned it into a Victorian garden, and by 1850—once Notre-Dame Street was completed—the square settled into the shape we recognize today.

At the centre of it stands Paul de Chomedey de Maisonneuve, founder of the city, cast in bronze since 1895. Sword in hand, he commemorates the defense of the early Ville-Marie settlement against the Iroquois Indians.

Still, the real show isn’t the paving stones. It’s the architecture forming a perfect historical surround-sound. On one side rises the majestic Notre-Dame Basilica. Nearby, stands the Saint-Sulpice Seminary, dating to the 1680s and considered Montreal’s oldest building.

Across the square, the Bank of Montreal headquarters—Canada’s first bank—opened in 1859. Then came the New York Life Building in 1887, Montreal’s first skyscraper, proudly equipped with what was then a thrilling novelty: an elevator.

The skyline continued evolving with the Royal Trust, the Duluth Building (sitting to the left of the basilica), and in 1931, the Art Deco Aldred Building, designed to let sunlight reach the street below. By 1968, the modern National Bank Tower—all glass and steel—added a post-war punctuation mark to the timeline.

And just when you think it’s all solemn history, two sculptures break the tension: a rather haughty English gentleman with his pug, and a French lady with her poodle. The dogs seem ready to make friends; their owners, not so much. It’s a playful nod to centuries of rivalry—played out in stone and fur.

Today, horse-drawn carriages depart from the square, benches invite you to linger, and cafés tempt you to pause. So, do sit here for a moment. Around you, three centuries of Montreal are quietly arguing—and getting along just fine...